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risebto · 2 years ago

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Blood is Thicker than Ooze | Chapter Nine

Word Count: 4052 Warnings: Bad Parent Draxum, Hurt Donatello, Unreliable narrator, Psychological abuse, Separated Donnie AU, child abuse Description: Purple is the son of Draxum, a great warrior alchemist. With his help, Draxum will eradicate the prophesied human threat, and restore yōkai to the surface. Purple doesn’t understand why these three turtles are trying to stop them.

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Raph wasn’t one to snoop on his brother’s conversations. He wasn’t! He respected their privacy above all else. Or he tried to. But he was the big brother, and his responsibility was to ensure they were always safe. Rule one of the Mad Dogz: You take care of family.

So, really, he was just being a good older brother when he overheard Mikey get on the phone with April. And he didn’t mean to listen in on the whole conversation; it’s just that he was working out, and Mikey was fairly loud when he spoke. Not his fault at all.

“April, this is gonna be an odd request, but I need you to do something for me,” Mikey said, his voice a little quieter than it had been the rest of the call. Raph’s big brother senses tingled, so he slowed his curl-ups and paid close attention to Mikey’s voice.

“So, you know the Purple Dragons guys? … Well, uh, could you maybe tell me if one of them comes back to school? … So, one of them had some burn scars, I think… and I may have, uh, let him go. … I feel like you know the answer to that already. But anyway, I think he and… the purple not-turtle dude from Draxum’s lab might be the same guy. … Same! But yeah. Just keep an eye out for me, ‘kay? ... Thanks, April! You’re the best! See ya.”

Raph set down his weights and approached Mikey’s room just as the smaller turtle was leaving. “Mikey… you let the Purple Dragon’s kid go?” He asked, concern gripping his heart. We could be in serious danger if he is the purple turtle…

“Oh. You overheard.” Mikey laughed nervously, playing with his fingers as he spoke. “Um, yeah. I saw him breaking the hard drive, so I let him go.”

“Mikey,” Raph sighed, shaking his head and folding his arms across his chest. “That could’ve been a fake one to distract us. That means they could still have the hard drive with whatever was in the Nakamura servers.”

“I don’t think so,” Mikey said, shaking his head. “You should’ve seen him, Raph… he looked so scared.”

“Micheal, you have a big heart,” Raph said softly, putting a large hand on the youngest’s shoulder. “But not everyone is like you. There are bad people in this world. And if he truly is the purple turtle, then that means we’re in trouble. It means he might be after us… I’m the oldest, and I gotta look after us and make sure we’re safe.”

“You didn’t see him,” Mike reiterated, his eyes narrowed in fierce determination. “I got the one with the info on it— I’m sure of it. What if he’s not evil?”

“He tried to capture us!” Raph pointed out. “He was workin’ with that mad scientist! I asked, and he said he wasn’t there against his will.”

“Maybe he had to say that,” Mikey excused. “Maybe he’s being hurt, and we need to help him.”

“And maybe he’s a monkey wearing a turtle costume,” Raph said harshly before sighing and hanging his head. “I’m sorry. I just… he hurt Leo, and he could’ve hurt you. And I…” His throat began to constrict his speech, and he tried to swallow down the tears that threatened to spill. He needed to speak. He could cry after he was done talking. “I couldn’t protect you… I don’t want… I can’t let that happen again. I don’t trust him. So, please…”

Mikey shook his head. “I can’t just leave him, Raph. If there’s a chance that he’s hurting and that we can help… I can’t ignore that. He had scars, Raph. What if that goat dude caused them?”

Raph nodded in understanding. “Okay… okay. But please, let us help with this. Let’s do this together, alright? I don’t want to see you hurt. I can’t let you get hurt.”

Mikey nodded and pulled Raph into a hug. Raph sighed and relaxed, carefully embracing his youngest brother. He made sure not to hold on to him too tightly, afraid he might hurt him if he did.

“Hey, bros?” Leo’s voice cut through the air and caused both of them to pull away and focus their attention on the middle brother. “Touching moment and all, but I just read some Reddit news, and apparently, there’s a glowy bug infestation at this hotel downtown. I think we should check it out.”

Raph narrowed his eyes and nodded before he turned back to Mikey with a soft smile. “We’ll talk about this more tonight with Leo, okay? I trust you. I just… can’t stand to see you get hurt.”

Mikey smiled brightly and gave a thumbs-up. “Gotcha, Raph. Thank you. Now, let's catch some bugs!”

Purple dodged an attack by a golem created from his father’s alchemy and his technology, ducking under it as he launched an attack at one of its legs. In a gruesome display of strength and intelligence, Purple was able to blow the creature’s leg off with bombs he’d made and stored within his tech-bō. The beast slumped on one side and tried to swipe at Purple, but the turtle was able to tuck and roll away in time. The golem used its other hand to reach for Purple, which Purple combated with a swipe of his bō.

The golem was far bigger and stronger than Purple. The turtle was disadvantaged in many ways, but he had speed and precision on his side. Using the creature’s arms as a platform, he jumped off of his arm and began to climb his way up the beast carefully and fast.

He leaped onto the creature’s face. It was partly mechanical and partly made of flesh— an unholy sight. Purple used his bō to break the golem’s mechanical eye, causing it to cry out in pain. The golem used his hand to try and smack the softshell, but Purple hopped off his face in time, causing the giant golem to smack itself and tumble backward.

He used the hover scooter function of his bō to make a safe landing before turning it back to its standard form. He watched the golem fall over on its back, effectively defeated.

“Well done,” His father said, his voice and clapping cut through the air. Purple turned to give his attention to his father, who was grinning. “You’re improving, but you can do better.”

Purple deflated a bit at his father’s words. Why are you upset? He scolded himself. He just complimented you. He’s encouraging you to get better. Stop being so ungrateful.

“Thank you, Father,” he said with a slight bow. “I will work on my technique.”

“Good,” Father hummed, patting him on the head before continuing past him and towards the defeated golem. “A shame that it isn’t stronger. You should work on upgrading the golems.”

“Will do,” Purple assured him, but couldn’t help but feel conflicted and confused. Am I supposed to beat them or not?

“And, Purple—” Father was about to continue, but to Purple’s surprise, he was cut off by Huginn and Muninn bursting into the training room, out of breath and looking panicked. They both fell onto the floor, their wings spread out from exhaustion.

“Mr. Draxum!” Huginn said, trying desperately to catch his breath. “We got somethin’ to tell you.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Muninn nodded. “It’s, uh….”

“I do not have all day,” Father spat out, annoyed by the two yōkai. “What is it?”

“Big Mama and the turtles are trying to capture your oozesquitos!” They both said simultaneously, as if it was rehearsed and planned.

“What?!” Father roared in anger. He turned to Purple with a furious glare, his body rigid with rage. “Come on. We’re paying Big Mama a visit.”

Purple scrambled to his father’s side, waiting for him to create the portal. The many questions that loomed in his head went unsaid.

Father reached his hand out into the air, forcing the creation of a portal. It was a magenta hue, unlike the blue color the Portal Carver emitted. Purple liked his father’s portals better. They were protected and sealed, unable to be entered by portal pirates.

Purple entered the portal alongside his father, with Huginn and Muninn following close behind them. They stood at the entrance of the Grand Nexus Hotel, the structure towering leagues above the both of them. It was an incredible hotel that connected yōkai to the human world and vice versa, with the main location being in New York. While humans could not access the yōkai side of things, yōkai residents were allowed to travel all over the hotel.

Father ignored the humans on the streets that stared at them, appalled and afraid of their appearance and ability to just… appear there. Purple looked around to see a woman grab her child and start running and a man take out a phone to record them.

Huginn and Muninn took their spots on Father’s shoulders, and Purple pulled down his goggles to get an x-ray view of the hotel. “On the top floor,” Purple reported, spotting four heat signatures from that level, three of which had the shape of the turtles. The other heat signature was larger and undefined, but Purple was aware of the owner of the Grand Nexus Hotel as well as the Battle Nexus: Big Mama, a large spider yōkai with immense power and strength.

Father nodded and used his vines to help them ascend toward the top floor. Purple tried his best to balance on them, extending his arms to help. He was afraid he might trip and fall to his death.

In just a few moments, they reached their desired floor. From just outside, they could hear a powerful voice proclaim, “My rule is no stealing from Big Mama.”

Purple began to use his tech-bō to pierce the glass, cutting a large circle before pushing it in. The glass shattered on the ground, and Father used the vines to lower them both through the opening Purple had made.

“And my rule is no stealing from me!” Father shouted, his gaze narrowed at Big Mama.

Just within the room, Purple could see a large, open vault with one of his web guns lying just outside of it, as well as a jar full of Father’s mosquitech. To the left of Big Mama were three turtles, all trapped in her strong webbing. Mikey looked at him and smiled widely.

“Look! It’s Mr. Sheep and Purple Turtle to the rescue!” Mikey exclaimed. Purple gave him an odd look. Why did he think they were there for them? You abandoned me, remember? I have no sympathy for you.

“Mikey, not the time,” Raph said before his eyes widened in fear when Big Mama stepped in between him and Father.

“Scramulent to see you again, Baron Draxum. And this must be your creation, Purple. Quite a smart little fellow, I must say. I adore his contrapulations. But you both must really learn to use the dimbally door.” All of Big Mama’s eyes narrowed as she pointed toward the door.

“You must learn to use real words!” Father shouted as he pointed at her.

“Huh, they know each other,” Leonardo da Vinci said to the red turtle. “If only one of us had seen that coming.”

“You are a poor winner, Leo,” Raph grumbled to him.

“Those are my property,” Father pointed to the jar of mosquitech and then toward the three turtles. “As are those. Fetch the mosquitoes, my pets.”

Huginn and Muninn launched themselves off Father’s shoulders before being grabbed by a large dog-like yōkai.

“I need all these bimbally bugs for all those tasty victims they will mutate for my Battle Nexus,” Big Mama said with a menacing smile as she folded her two claws together.

“Those were made for something far greater than your silly Battle Nexus,” Father said, his voice powerful and demanding. “They’re here to eliminate the human threat forever! I will have every last one on the surface.”

Father launched himself at Big Mama, swiping at her with his claws. Big Mama leaped into the air and kicked back against Father, causing him to crash against her desk. He slammed a hand on the ground, causing vines to lift from the ground and move toward Big Mama. The turtles were in the way and moved aside so they wouldn’t be hit.

Big Mama continued to dodge his vines before pushing against the wall and flinging herself at Draxum. She shot a web from her mouth (gross), but Father captured it with his hand. He pulled her closer and landed a punch to her face, forcing her down to the ground. A cloud of dust formed over them, obstructing Purple’s view.

Purple hopped off the vines as they began to constrict down. He moved toward the turtles but saw that they were able to free themselves by using the alligator snapping turtle’s spiked shell. He gripped his bō tightly.

“To the roof!” Father exclaimed as he threw a ball to get the dog off Huginn and Muninn. The two gargoyles fluttered widely to take hold of the jar with mosquitechs inside, and Father used vines to propel himself toward the roof of the building. “Time for us yōkai to take over the surface.”

“Leo!” Raph exclaimed. “Portal us to the roof— now!”

Leonardo da Vinci began to argue with Raph before pausing and doing as he said, creating a portal with his blue ōdachi. Once he started to see the blue portal glow, Purple sprinted after the two of them. But he was too late and instead crashed into the orange turtle who had the same idea.

Purple scrambled away from him, disgusted that they had touched. He wrinkled his nose and brushed off his arm that had made contact with the orange turtle.

Mikey smiled apologetically. “So, uh, hi?”

A loud crash disrupted the one-sided conversation. Purple and Mikey pushed themselves up and off the ground to face the giant spider yōkai, which looked incredibly angry at them.

“Truce?” Purple offered. It was primarily meant for Big Mama, but he didn’t mind when Mikey pushed him out of the way of spider yōkai’s large leg coming down on him.

“Truce,” Mikey agreed, getting off him fast to start running.

Big Mama began to charge toward the orange turtle, but Purple put himself between them, using his bō to deflect her attacks, taking a step back each time he did so. He was being pushed toward the opening he had made, and he cautiously looked behind him. He held his breath, and Big Mama lifted her arm to swing at him, but something wrapped around him and pulled him away at the last moment.

Mikey had used his kusari fundo to pull him away from the ledge. Purple crashed into the ornate box turtle, and grunted from the impact.

Mikey helped untangle him before swinging his weapon toward Big Mama. It wrapped around one of her legs, and he pulled on it to bring her down. He retracted it and leaped toward her, using his kusari fundo to hit her in many places, the tip of it blazing with fire. He was fast and unpredictable, Purple realized. He didn’t move in any coordinated fashion.

Purple ran towards the vault. Just outside the vault, he found the web gun he’d made all those months ago for the giant spider and grabbed it. He turned the bike mode on his tech bō on and flew past Mikey, catching him by the shell as he continued out of the destroyed window.

Mikey climbed onto the bike and held onto Purple’s battle shell. The bike was only made for one yōkai, but Mikey was small enough to fit as well. Purple turned the bike around to face Big Mama as she approached the window. He aimed the gun and took his shot, the web throwing her backward and into the vault. Due to the force of the spider yōkai flying into the vault, the door closed automatically, sealing her in.

“That was awesome!” Mikey exclaimed, shooting his hands into the air with excitement, before holding onto the spikes on top of Purple’s battle shell to stop himself from falling. “Also, I got a few questions for you.”

“Yeah, I’m not answering any,” Purple said before his attention was caught by the dozens of mosquitech flying above them, dispersing out into the city. We succeeded!

“Oh, no…” Mikey gasped in horror, his face dropping as he, too, watched the hundreds of tiny mechanical insects infect the sky. “We’re gonna have so many more mutants on our hands!”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” Purple huffed, amused by the younger one’s expression of dread. “This is great!”

“How can that be good?” Mikey asked, but he clearly wasn’t looking for an explanation or excuse from him. He waved his arms in the air to exaggerate his point before grabbing onto Purple’s shell so he wouldn’t fall. “Bad people will be mutated, and that means that they have more power to hurt people! It’ll only make the humans more afraid of mutants!”

“News flash for you: they already are afraid of you,” Purple sneered, driving the bike to a rooftop. He let the orange turtle hop off, and he did too, before turning the bike into a bō once more. “What do you think they’re gonna do once they find you? The government is gonna wanna dissect you or use you as a weapon.”

“They wouldn’t!” Mikey protested adamantly. “I mean, sure, there are bad people. But there are good people, too! April’s our friend, and she’s human. She would never rat us out. She loves us- she’s like a sister!”

“Oh, so April’s a sibling to you?” Purple asked with a snarl. They really don’t want me as their brother. Father was right. “Humans are the reason we yōkai have to live underground. If we mutate the population, the humans will either die out or be forced to accept mutants and yōkai. Then we can all live on the surface.”

“I know what it’s like to live underground,” Mikey said sympathetically, putting a hand over his chest. “We live in the sewers, my brothers and I. It sucks. And I’d like to live on the surface, too. But hurting people isn’t the way to go about it.”

“It’s the only way to go about it!” Purple shouted, causing Mikey to shrink slightly into his shell and move away from him. “There’s only one Hidden City left. The others were destroyed because the humans found them. I cannot let that happen to us.” Purple paused before taking a shaky breath. “Join us. Join my father and me- you’d do great. You can help reinstate yōkai to the surface and ensure the humans don’t wipe us out first. You’d be a hero!”

Mikey fell silent, and Purple realized he had struck a nerve. He wanted to feel bad, but he didn’t. Purple was right; if Mikey couldn’t see that, then it wasn’t the softshell’s fault. We may be related by blood, he thought, but that means nothing. He is not my brother. He lost that right when he left me to die in a crumbling lab.

Mikey reached a hand toward him, and Purple recognized after a moment that he was trying to hug him. The purple turtle pushed the box turtle away violently, surprised and confused by the action.

The two stood there for a moment longer, neither saying a word. Purple was attempting and failing to read the younger turtle's expression. Purple realized that the smaller turtle was looking at him with pity. The softshell didn’t know how to take that— whether he should be angry or not. What did he have to pity the softshell for?

Purple didn’t want to look at him anymore. He just didn’t want to be standing nearby him. He knew the orange turtle wouldn’t join him in saving the yōkai. Perhaps he was already too far gone, too brainwashed, to see the right side of the war.

“Your… Your brothers are down at that bus stop waiting for you,” Purple murmured, pointing below. “Just… go. Go away.”

Mikey nodded but hesitated to leave, looking as if he wanted to say something. But he didn’t say anything. Instead, he used the building’s fire escape to descend safely before running towards the bus stop.

Purple watched from above as the three turtles embraced each other in a hug. He wasn’t one for physical contact, but at that moment, he wished he was down there hugging them, too. He didn’t know why he had pushed the box turtle away. Maybe I was scared.

The alligator-snapping turtle looked up, and Purple realized that he was looking directly at him. Purple was about to turn around to quickly make his exit, but then the snapping turtle cupped his hands around his mouth to make his voice louder before shouting, “Thank you,” up at him.

Purple was confused but gave a slow thumbs-up anyways. He backed away from the ledge and walked toward the stairwell that led down to the inside of the building. On the side of the entrance to the stairs, he used the Portal Carver to take him home.

Purple entered the living room. Huginn and Muninn were still perched on Father’s shoulders, and his father sat in his chair next to the fire. The seat across from him was empty but clean. No hint of dust lay on the cushions.

“I saw that the mosquitech were released,” Purple said, attempting to start the conversation positively. He shuffled his feet to try and quell the anxiety that was boiling beneath his skin.

“And how did you help with that?” Father asked. But before Purple could find his voice to respond, Father leaned forward in his chair to scowl at him. “Absolutely nothing. I had to do that on my own.”

“And you left me alone!” Purple snapped before he could think. He took a step back as soon as he realized his mistake of talking back. He retreated slightly into his shell, continuing to back further away from the chair as Father stood up and slowly stalked toward him.

“Because I thought you could handle getting back,” Father said bluntly. “Would you like me to hold your hand through everything? Does poor little softshell Purple need me to babysit him?”

Purple shook his head numbly, his throat burning and tight. His chest was heavy, too heavy to breathe. He wanted to curl up in a ball so tightly that he would disappear. But he couldn’t. Right now, he was being stared down by his father, who only looked angered by his cowardice.

“ANSWER ME!” Father roared, raising a claw into the air. When Purple flinched, Father relaxed and chuckled at the tiny softshell’s response. “Are you afraid I’ll hit you?”

Yes, Purple admitted silently but shook his head. Father seemed to see past the lie and raised his hand again, taunting him. Purple tried not to react, but he couldn’t suppress his anxiety, so he flinched again.

“I’m sorry,” Purple murmured, but his father didn’t respond to the apology. Instead, the large yōkai huffed in amusement, finding the softshell’s fear humorous. Father lowered his hand and softened his stance.

“I know a way we can try and… convince my creations of our side,” Father said calmly, cocking his head to one side. “Maybe a chance to redeem yourself.”

When Father opened his arms wide in an offer of a hug, Purple hesitated. He didn’t want physical contact. He didn’t want his father’s arms around him. He wanted to run back into his room and hide beneath the covers like he did as a child because that’s how he hid from the monsters beneath the bed. But he knew refusing the hug would make him even more of a jerk, so he entered his father’s embrace, hugging him back fully. He ignored how it made him feel even more anxious and uneasy.

“And if they don’t join us…” Father continued, petting Purple’s head softly. He traced the burn marks on the back of his head, which made Purple shiver from the light and odd sensation. “We’ll destroy them.”

#rottmnt au #rise draxum #rise donatello #rise of the tmnt #rottmnt #rottmnt angst #rottmnt separated au #rottmnt fanfiction #risebto #rise bto #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles

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boldlyvoid · 3 years ago

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Amoreena | Chapter Three

Chapter Three

summary: Heaven is a real place and it's located exactly 14.6 miles away from the FBI, Quantico Headquarters. Off behind a small park, under a fantastical willow tree surrounded by wildflowers, in every colour young minds can imagine.

Don't forget, heaven also comes with angels.

Warnings: fluff, hurt/comfort, depressed spencer, reader has a daughter, falling in love, strangers to lovers

word count: 2.8k

from the beginning <3

Y/N set him up with a pair of her father's old pyjamas, giving him a spare room to sleep in for the night instead of the couch, she figured he'd need privacy in the morning and not a 7-year-old attacking him at the crack of dawn. He was so grateful for their day together, hugging her goodnight and slipping away into the room to think about everything.

He took a moment to just sit on the bed, looking around at how she decorated. It was pretty plain, just a bed and some light green walls. Books gaining dust in the corner, clothes and blankets folded on top of the dresser against the wall, the only personality was the photo on the night table and the quilt on the bed.

There was a reason it wasn’t used anymore. The photo on the table was of her grandparent's wedding, it was black and white and older than him. They looked happy and in love, her grandmother was a spitting image of her, no wonder they were so close.

It made him feel a little emotional to know he was in this room. The memories it had with her, the connection to her grandma that she clearly wanted to keep. Otherwise, this room would be used for something other than housing the man they met at the park for a single night.

She was trusting him in this space, leaving him alone for the night to deal with his brain on hyperdrive, giving him the opportunity to stare at the ceiling as he remembered the day in glorious detail.

Drifting off into a peaceful slumber quicker than he figured he would.

—

He awoke to the feeling of someone holding his face, the soft touch of flesh on his cheeks. He fluttered his eyes open into the early morning sunshine, “good morning cutie,” Y/N whispered.

“Am I dead?”

She smiles as she laughs, leaning down to press her forehead against his shoulder, he wraps his arms around her on instinct, holding her as close as the night before.

“You looked like an angel,” he whispers an explanation.

She pulled back then, returning her hand to his face as she looked at him, “you’re beautiful in the mornings too.”

“What time is it?”

“7:30,” she confirmed with a small smile. “Amoreena is feeding the baby goats with her poppy, she’ll be in for breakfast in a few minutes if you want some cereal. My grandpa’s stuff is in the closet if you wanted something cozy, it’s a foggy one out there.”

He was so in love with her at that moment, nothing but happiness and wonderful words left her mouth. She was more euphoric to him than any drug, rushing more serotonin to his brain than any one-night stand managed to do, and he hasn’t even kissed her yet.

He noticed then she was in her pyjamas, a cute nightgown like his own mother would wear when he was a kid. Cows jumping over the moon displayed on the chest, it was adorable. She was everything to him.

“I’ll see you downstairs?” She says as she stands, removing her hand from his face as her fingers lingers on his skin, he didn’t want her to leave.

“Yeah,” he smiled, watching her leave as he sat up.

He put his slacks back on making sure he had his lactose pills in the pocket, a red sweater from the closet and a brown ranch hat. Wanting to fit the part of Farmhand while he was with them, and to see if it would make Amoreena laugh at him.

He kept a travel toothbrush in his satchel for times when he was sleeping in places he didn’t belong. Using the bathroom and making himself look as presentable as possible, he really, really wanted them to like him enough to keep him around.

Y/N was packing Amoreena’s lunch in the kitchen when he finally wandered in, taking a moment to look at what he was wearing. She smiled at him, placing her hand on her heart, “My grandpa loved that hat, you look great.”

“Thank you,” he says softly as he takes a seat at the counter, watching her carefully cut the crust off a sandwich.

She has a special sandwich cutter, pressing it into the bread and revealing the two dinosaur-shaped halves. Putting them in a little baggie and adding them to her pile of healthy snacks in Amoreena's lunch box.

“You’re the best mother,” the compliment rolling off his tongue without his permission.

She blushed lightly, “thank you, I try.”

Like a herd of elephants, Amoreena was running up the porch steps and swinging the door open, causing the chimes to bang off the wood before it eventually smacked the house.

“Gentle!” Y/N called down the hallway, “don’t get mud on the floor.”

Amoreena took her boots off neatly, hanging up her coat and cowboy hat before joining Spencer at the counter. “Good morning, Spencer!”

“How’s the kingdom this morning?” He asks out of pure curiosity, greeted with the purest response from her.

Amoreena’s eyes lit up like she didn’t expect him to believe in her fantasy world. What she didn't know was how easy it was for him to call this the kingdom, a far off land of true freedom and happiness. It was a little perfect world that didn’t feel real to him yet.

“It’s great, you’re so nice,” she sighed, laying her head on the counter. “Can I have some lucky charms?”

Y/N smiled, “sure, you know where all the bowls are big kid.”

Amoreena stormed around the kitchen, pulling out two bowls and spoons, not asking if Spencer wanted any but placing a bowl in front of him any way. “You need breakfast, it’s important.”

“Of course, Lady Amoreena,” he said softly, digging the pill from his pocket and placing it on the placemat. “Can I have something to drink?”

“Orange or apple?” Y/N smiled, opening the fridge door and waiting for his choice.

“Orange, please.”

“See,” Y/N looked at Amoreena, “even adults use manners.”

It made him laugh as she rolled her eyes at her mother with a fake sigh. It was nice to see that they had a mutual respect that was strong enough to play around like that, It was admirable to see them be friends, not just family.

“I’m going to get changed for the day,” Y/N announced then as Amoreena got situated back at the counter. “Be good, shout for me if you need me.”

Then it was just him and Amoreena eating cereal in silence.

She picked out all the marshmallows first, eating them before the cereal, and then finally drinking all the milk from the bowl, he has never seen a kid eat that fast.

“Was it good?” He laughed to himself, watching her wipe her mouth on her pyjama sleeve.

“The best,” she smiled back at him. “Are you going to be here a lot?”

“I don’t know yet,” he was honest. “But I’d like to be.”

“It would be nice, I've never had a dad,” she said it like it was nothing. Like the weight of the words weren’t supposed to knock the wind out of him.

“You know,” he speaks before he even thinks it over. “I never had a dad either, my mom raised me all by herself. She's my best friend in the whole world, she is the reason I love books and why I love the world, you’re lucky to have someone who has a heart big enough to love you for both parents.”

“You’re lucky too then,” she smiled back. “But you’d still make a good dad regardless.”

“Thanks,” he whispered, smiling softly as she put her bowl away and ran up the stairs.

—

Amoreena gave him a big hug at the bus stop, waving to him from the window as he stood with Y/N at the end of the driveway, his phone non-stop vibrating in his back pocket trying to take him away from the most perfect moment in his whole existence.

He finally looked at it when the bus pulled away, 8 texts from Penelope and 4 calls from Derek. It looks like they all knew he quit, and they want to see if he was okay. He sighs, putting his phone back in his pocket, taking Y/N’s hand instead, walking back to her house.

“I called to take the day off when I was changing, told them Amoreena got me sick,” she says lightly as she bumps her shoulder into his.

She was now wearing a light green sundress, it flows in the breeze as she walks, stepping in front of him to skip lightly, twirling around as they walk, she makes him smile uncontrollably. Then she’s letting go of his hand and running off into the field, Spencer chasing after her cautiously. Rubber soles of his shoes slipping on the dewy grass as he follows.

There’s an open field behind the barn, cows wandering around the far edges as the fog starts to settle its war with the sunshine. She stops then, catching her breath and waiting for Spencer with an arm out for him to walk into her embrace.

Holding him in the sunshine in the middle of her kingdom.

“Whatever the light touches is yours,” she whispered the words from the lion king, “If you’d like to be mine?”

He wanted to answer, but his phone wouldn’t stop buzzing against her hip. She reaches into his pocket and takes the phone out, answering it without breaking eye contact.

“Ex fed, Spencer Reid’s phone,” she smiled.

“who is this?” A males voice asked.

“Spencer’s girlfriend,” she answered, “he’s fine. If you’d like to see for yourself and join us for tea in the garden?”

“Um, sure, you’re at some farm right?”

She looked at Spencer confused, “yes?”

“We’re pulling up now.”

“What?” Y/N turned around as she noticed the line went dead, a car rolling down the driveway and following the path all the way towards the barn.

“FBI remember,” he laughed. “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be,” she leaned in and kissed him softly, he held her there for a moment, knowing his friends would be staring at the display of affection they were putting on.

He almost wished he could have seen it from their point of view. How she pulled him in, dipping under his hat, holding his cheeks in her hands as she pressed her lips to his softly. The view behind them was impeccable, the fields of wheat blowing in the early sunlight as he held her hips.

When she pulled away he could swear he saw a halo around her head, smiling at him with love in her eyes, matching his own. He pushed his hat up as he rested his forehead on hers, “I’ll be yours.”

“I figured,” she smiled, taking his hand and walking with him towards his friends.

“Hi,” he waved at them.

“What has happened in the last week since we’ve spoken?” Derek didn’t skip a beat, holding his arms out as he shook his head.

Penelope rushed around the car towards him, “why did you quit?”

“I’ll go put on some tea, meet me out back?” Y/N said softly, tapping his shoulder as she slipped out of his grasp and passed them all.

“I can’t do it anymore and you know why,” Spencer whispers. “I’m done, Derek, I need a life, a family, something to make me actually want to get up in the morning before I whiter away to nothing.”

“Okay,” he nods, reaching out to pull him into a hug, “you deserve that.”

Penelope hugged him too, the both of them wrapping their arms around him in the middle of Y/N’s land, he knew they’d understand. He just wish they all didn’t have to feel like this, like he was letting them down.

“Come on, you’re going to love Y/N,” he changed the subject, fixing his hat again as Derek laughed at him.

“Since when did you want to be a farmer?” Penelope teased him.

“Cowboys are like FBI agents right?” He smiles, leading them towards Y/N’s backyard. “Um, seriously though, I met her at the park on Saturday.”

“It’s Monday…” Derek added in a concerned tone.

“I know, it’s insane but we’re both tired of waiting for the right time, so we’re making it the right time, she has a kid and a life and she works at a library, she’s calm and beautiful and everything I need,” Spencer explains, stopping abruptly so that Y/N wouldn’t be able to hear him. “Fuck it, y’know?”

Derek’s face lit up, Penelope shook his arm as she giggled, “yes! I support this, fuck it and be happy.”

“Way to go pretty boy,” Derek patted his back, “I always knew you’d do it.”

It was nice to introduce them, Y/N sat close to Spencer as she learned all about the last 15 years of his life. Funny stories like the time they scared him in the dark at a crime scene, how nervous he used to be, even showing Y/N photos of him from over the years with the weirdest haircuts, she couldn't believe how cute he used to be. Gushing to his friends about how perfect their weekend together had been so far.

He got to know her more than too, learning with Penelope and Derek as she shared parts of her life. She was only 35, she actually has 7 siblings who have so far produced 4 nephews and 11 nieces for her, Amoreena being the oldest of the bunch. She’s lived here since she was a baby, born in the room she sleeps in actually.

Her whole life existed in this kingdom full of love and life. She had a huge family and enough love to keep it growing forever, it was her perfect world and now it’s his too.

It was the best morning of his life, watching his best friends and the women he knew was going to become the love of his life, mingle so gleefully. They were all free now, living in the real world where things were good and happy.

He wanted to stay there forever, but they decided to head out around 9:30, leaving Spencer and Y/N alone in the backyard finally. He turned his phone off then, tossing it onto the table and pulling her into his lap.

“I think we need to talk about this,” he said softly.

“About what?”

“How it’ll work, the rules for me being around Amoreena, I don’t want to jump right into stepdad mode and piss you off or be too distant and make you think I don’t want to be here,” he worried out loud. Giving her a glimpse into his mind and how it worked.

“I don’t mind you falling into the role of her father, you are a lot like Steven,” she looked at him softly as she spoke, her fingers trailing along his jaw lightly.

“Her father?”

“I tell people that yeah, but I don’t know,” Y/N admitted, not a care in the world about who he really was.

“You’re a literal ray of sunshine,” the words fell from his tongue.

“I don’t like being unhappy, so I choose not to be,” she admits, biting the inside of her cheek as she smiled at him. “And I think I’d be the happiest with you.”

“I'm glad you feel it too,” he whispers, leaning in and pressing his lips against hers again, softly as the first time.

“I’m also scared,” her words touch his lips ever so softly, “I’ve already lost too many people, please don’t leave me.”

“My girlfriend died in front of me,” the words are harsher than he expected them to be. but she had to know that he understood. Loving someone, planning a life with them, and watching them get ripped out of existence is the hardest thing someone could recover from, but they were doing it.

She pauses, “so you know what it’s like?”

He can only nod, “I understand wanting to keep something special and safe and failing.”

“Seconds are just as good as firsts," she whispers, leaning in close enough to kiss him. Resting her forehead against his, "if not better because you value what it can become.”

“I’m falling in love with you,” he announces without a second thought.

“Good,” she finally kisses him, resting her lips against his lightly before speaking again, "because I think I fell in love with you a few days ago."

He can't help but kiss her again and again, holding her in his lap as he spread kisses over her face. Her cheeks, her forehead, her chin, the tip of her nose, both eyelids and finally her perfect lips. It's soft and gentle like the first one, holding him softly as their lips brushed together.

Kissing in the sunshine for as long as they wanted without a single distraction or care in the world. She was exceptional, her life was perfect, he was so unbelievably happy to be sharing it with her. To be granted access to the happiest place on earth, his own little slice of Heaven with the two angels that kept it running.

tag list: @shemarmooresfedora @spookyspence @spencers-dria

#spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid self insert #spencer reid request #criminal minds smut #criminal minds imagine #amoreena

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angelicsentinel · 3 years ago

Text

the silence in black and white (1/?)

Prompt: Expertise | Emotion: Longing

The lights from the vanity washed Saguru out. Stadium after stadium, tour after tour. The bags under his eyes were dark and heavy like bruises. He lost himself, staring at the mirror. How had it come to this? He picked up his eyeliner, tapping it between his fingers against the vanity’s top.

The crackling sound of burning fire. Saguru watched the mirror, empty of everything save his own reflection. But mirrors obscured just as much as they revealed. He was there. Saguru knew, even if the mirror didn’t.

Hands wrapped against his bare, muscled chest. A warm chuckle in his ear as a broad chest pressed against his back. He smelled of the faintest hint of embers.

“I didn’t summon you,” Saguru said.

“Didn’t you?” the demon asked. He reached out with his long claws and rubbed the area over Saguru’s heart with one rough palm. He then closed his fingers, his hand forming a five pointed star, and jabbed his nails into Saguru’s flesh.

Saguru winced, and a bright blue five pointed star appeared on his skin temporarily before disappearing. “Is it time for the deal to come due?” he asked.

“That would be telling, wouldn’t it, Sa-gu-ru?” he said, singsong.

“You’re needlessly cruel,” Saguru said.

“You’re the one that asked for my expertise,” the demon said, burying his face in his neck and licking his throat with one forked tongue. Saguru shivered and tilted his head to the side. “And my my, how that’s made you millions.”

"I wasn't what we agreed on," Saguru said. "I wanted you to save their lives."

"And the money did, didn't it?" He rubbed his horn against Saguru's face. Spiraled and twisted, shaped like a markhor goat’s, but covered in soft velvet.

From memory, Saguru knew he had eyes the colour of the ocean depths that burned indigo with inner fire. That if he turned to look, he’d have unnaturally pale skin, almost the same colour of ice. Inhuman, one might say, if one were so inclined.

Saguru was so inclined.

“Didn’t it?” he repeated.

“Yes,” Saguru said hoarsely. “Are you taking your voice back?” If so, Saguru would be glad to be rid of it.

“That’s not how this works,” Kid said, tickling his claws up his neck to cup his throat. “It’s yours to keep.” He laughed. “The way you are mine to keep.”

“And if I refuse to perform?” Saguru asked, snapping the eyeliner pencil in half.

“You will,” Kid said, and nuzzled against his cheek. “My dearest former detective.” He spun the chair around and seated himself in Saguru’s lap sideways, booted legs hanging over the edge of the chair. Saguru was taller, but only by nine centimeters or so. The boots he wore were leather, shin-high and thick-soled and buckled. Motorcycle boots, if Saguru had to guess. Leather trousers, fingerless gloves, a fishnet shirt, and a studded leather jacket finished the ensemble. He patted Saguru’s cheek. “Your boyfriend commands it.”

Saguru couldn’t help the way his lip curled. “Boyfriend?”

“It has come to my attention I need to keep a closer watch on you,” he said, wrapping his arms around his neck.

"You've already taken enough. My privacy, too?" What little he had left of it, anyway. After the paparazzi and the fans.

"I think you'll find that won't be much of a problem anymore," he said. He grinned wickedly, his teeth razor sharp, and snapped his fingers. Fire sparked, bright blue. Saguru felt the heat, watching it warily. He snapped again and the eyeliner pieces levitated and became whole.

Kid shifted so that he was straddling him. Saguru sucked in a breath at the intimate position. He felt the heat through both layers of leather. "I'm not going to give in."

Another laugh. "Do you think you have a choice?" He cupped his cheek, tapping his claws on his temple, next to his eyes. “That’s cute.”

He leaned in for a kiss. Saguru's lips parted against his will; he struggled against the movement, but the binding was whole and complete. He could only feel; his lips were obscenely warm; his tongue carried the taste of flame.

His body reacted against his will. Despite his inhuman looks and his new attitude, his body was still Kuroba's. The demon was exceptionally, exceptionally cruel.

Saguru still managed to pull away. "Enough," he said, his voice rough, both from arousal and from fighting the binding.

"But Saguru, isn't this what you wanted?" Kid said with a pout.

He shifted in his lap, and Saguru cursed. "Not like this," he said, his voice weighted with want.

Kid traced his lips. “You should hear how he feels about this. I wonder if you’d sing a different tune, then.”

Saguru turned his head, cross at the reminder that he wore Kuroba’s face. “I don’t want to sing at all.”

Kid tapped the glowing blue tattoo over his heart, causing Saguru’s body to lock into place and turn rigid, and wrenched his head back so Saguru was facing him. His eyes gleamed. “Too bad, puppet. You signed up for it. No take backsies. Kiss me,” he commanded, and Saguru had to obey.

He fought hard as his hands and body shifted of its own accord. No matter how hard he struggled, it was fruitless.

(Maybe, he thought, it was because he really didn’t want to fight it at all. It was Kuroba’s body and it wore Kuroba’s face, and it said that Kuroba wanted this, but it would say anything to get Saguru to do what it wanted and therefore it couldn’t be trusted)

The kiss was soft, slow. Exploratory. Kid’s lips were soft. Saguru felt himself give in, little by little as Kid shifted to be more flush against his lap. Kid pulled him close, wrapping his arms around his back; his touch was hot.

Saguru had yearned for this for a long time, and it was all fake.

But he would take what he could get. Keeping the demon close would keep Kuroba close, and it knew it. It knew how to press all of his buttons and shape him to its will.

The fire was there long before, and oh, how it burned.

The door to his dressing room burst open. “Mister Hakuba, the band sent me to tell you to start your vocal exercises, you’re on in thirty—Oh, I’m so sorry!” his personal assistant held up her clipboard to cover her eyes.

Not that she’d see anything, since Kid had reverted to human as soon as the door swung out.

“Don’t worry, his voice will get a lot of exercise before then,” Kid said, baring his teeth at her. She took a step back.

“Kuroba,” Saguru scolded. He looked up at Diana and nodded. “I’ll be ready by then, don’t worry.”

“Alright!” she squeaked, and slammed the door behind her on her way out.

“You didn’t have to scare her,” Saguru said.

“A little fear is healthy,” Kid said, horns and fangs and claws back. “Let's get you warmed up, so we can play a little more before your performance.” A flame appeared on the tip of his finger and he touched it to Saguru’s throat. Warmth spread up through his throat, and he exhaled slowly.

“You’ll enchant the whole arena tonight,” Kid murmured. “I am not the demon of music for nothing.”

That was all well and good, but Saguru longed to be free.

[two]

#magic kaito #dcmk #sagukai #hakuba saguru #kuroba kaito #demons #dubious consent #rock star au #kissing #dcmkemogust2021 #rating: t

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lovely-necromancy · 3 years ago

Text

A Cure for Insomnia Ch 19

Your bags were jumping and sliding around in the back of Madeline's rusty pickup truck. She had been kind enough to offer you a ride up to the lodge when she stopped by the shop earlier.

Madeline had seen the sour look Nate kept sending you and how you were intentionally not looking over towards the soon to be graying young man. Not one to beat around the bush she asked what was up, mam bear mode peeking through.

Nate was just being a dick to you and saying you had to stay with the Cowells longer than what had originally been agreed to. Big Jo seemed fine about letting you go back home now, even with your resolve set to continue hanging out with Toby. But Nate was trying to put a tight leash on you since you “wouldn't listen to reason” - so he said.

Even with security at the cottage updated Nate still thought it best to keep you with them if you were planning to still interact with Toby. More than likely he was trying to make that harder for you to do since staying with them would definitely make it easier for him to keep track of you.

The thought alone set shivers down your spine. Like a constrictor slithering up your back to rest around your neck and do what it does best.

It had been really hard to breathe these last few days.

But all Madeline needed to hear was “Nate” and “being a dick” before she said she'd take you herself. Thereby ending the conversation and silent argument in the shop, as she spun on her heel stating when she'd pick you up later.

Nate hadn't been too happy about the exchange but he could suck your dick. He's been annoying you with all this Toby bullshit and doesn't get to tell you what he thinks right now.

The drive up is silent, but that comfortable kind of silence between two old friends who don't ever really have a need to talk to hang out. It's nice because it gives you tons of time to think about just what you're about to do.

Going over several scripts all at once in your head.

You want to talk to Toby. You still haven't read that file but it just doesn't sit right with you that it was ever even given to you in the first place. Toby being completely unaware of the total breech of privacy makes your stomach flip just like your bags in the back right now. It's not like you ever asked for the detailed life file but at the same time it feels wrong not to let Toby know tht something like that even exists for him. His past being dug back up all without his knowledge or consent. And now here you were about to lay it right down in front of him.

Was this the right move? You're the one bringing it to his attention, if it's something that will mess him up it'll be your fault that he's upset. Jo and Nate may have gotten the information but you still count yourself as being a complacent party to all of this.

Your stomach feels like it's on a drop tower as it sinks further into a pit of guilt.

You feel like the scum of the Earth right now. Hopefully he isn't too upset.

Seeing your downcast eyes, you were a lot more expressive than you ever really realized, Madeline pipes up, “You gon' be ok there sport?”

A small smile bit at your lips. There's a reason Madeline Cobb was known in Kepler as Mama. She took care of those she saw as her own and that was damn near half the town at this point. Hell you'd heard a rumor she raised most this town. The lodge had been her orphanage before all the kids grew up and turned it into a resort once new arrivals stopped coming. That's probably the reason it's always been so warm and welcoming, it was a home first.

“Yea...just nervous.”

She lets out a small chuckle at you.

“Don' be, 'm sure that Toby boy will say 'yes'. And if he don' well you just come find me. I'll set him right.”

Ok now you were just confused.

“Huh?”

“Don' worry about it, he likes you jus' like you like 'im. It'll work out for you two.” she reaches over and ruffles your hair before jumping out of the pickup. You hadn't realized you were already at your destination.

And it was too late to correct Mama, she'd already made it inside the lodge, about why you were so nervous. The warmth in your face makes you even more grateful for your mask. Barclay was getting bit by the end of the night, the man really needed to get a boyfriend and stop trying to manifest one for you.

The door to the lodge opens again, you hardly paid it any mind. So lost in your own musing you didn't even notice the man walking towards you. Your goat plush had fallen beneath your seat and you were attempting to grab it but it was too far out of your reach.

“You good there?” Toby's amused voice calls, startling you.

Popping your head out of the opened car door. Heart racing faster at the sight of your friend standing there with a small smirk on his bandaged face. You weren't ready for this.

His eye looks better, well like a normal black eye and not a swollen lump that threatened to over take his socket. Now his eye looked like it could still function out of the slight opening. Fuck this was hard enough when you'd pictured only one eye looking at you but now you had to calculate for both!?

Is it weird that this is what worries you? Are you derailing from the actual situation? Distracting yourself so the conversation is easier on you. So you don't have to think about the possibility that Toby won't want to be friends after this. That he'll end up hating you for something you hadn't done.

God you really want to cry.

“Hey, space cadet.” Toby's made his way over to your side and puts a gentle hand on you knee, “You ok? Did something happen?”

He's really sweet, you're going to miss him.

No, stop. You need to get a grip and stop thinking like this. Toby will understand and you guys can continue being friends, a bit awkwardly but still friends. You'd get to hang out and maybe wander through the Monongahela together.

“I...I dropped my goat.”

He cocks his head to the side, brows slowly smoothing out and he gives a gentle squeeze to your legs as he reaches under you, hand searching for your lost plush.

The warmth that was once collecting in your cheeks shoots down past the void sitting in your stomach. Just another thing to add to your list you suppose. After a week of nearly no privacy or comfort you are thoroughly pent up. You don't necessarily want Toby, just need someone or something to help relieve the fire between your thighs. He just happens to be in proxcimity of that fire, poking the flame that hasn't been snuffed during your stay with the Cowells, making it dance and writhe reminding you of the need.

But you can't focus on that yet, you'd give yourself a hand when you finally got back home. Right now you needed to focus on Toby. And having that uncomfortable conversation.

“Here he is.” placing the goat in your lap he looks into your eyes, a slight glint in his.

He's in a really good mood tonight. You have to ignor the whispers in your head, telling you you're about to ruin this for him.

Luckily a tic to the right shoos those thoughts away for you.

“YN?” his hand is back on your knee, it's such a small gesture maybe even completely subconscious but it helps ground you.

You haven't read that file but you can't see Toby ever doing something awful enough to warrant Nate's barrage of paranoia and fear. Even if he did....he couldn't still be bad right? You're such a good judge of character and you called Brian on his masking there's no way you'd miss Toby lying to your face.

“I...” he's looking into your eyes searching as you take a steadying breath, “I just really need a slushie right now.” your eyes drop to the goat in your hands.

You fucking coward.

It's silent for a moment as you chastise yourself for not just coming out and telling Toby you wanted to talk. Toby's hand falls easily from your knee and to his side.

“A'right then, you good to drive?” you really missed your chance here, “'cuz Brian's got Connor tonight.”

Wait what?

You look at Toby who simply raises the right side of his mouth in a lopsided grin. A subtle raise of his right brow tells you he understood what you'd asked for. When was the last time anyone was ever able to read you so well?

“Yes!” you push the goat into Toby's chest and practically dive into the back seat for your bags. “I can drive. Franklin?”

“Don't work tomorrow, so sure.”

His good mood seems to pick back up a bit. He's chuckling as you rush to gather everything and head over to your car, barely shutting Mama's door as you do. Toby gives it a good bump with his hip to make sure it shut properly. He unlocks your car for you and slides into the passenger's seat while you arrange your shit in the trunk.

You catch sight of the skull still in your trunk and figure you'll just leave it as is for now. Since it seems that literally every time you close this trunk you forget it exists. Bye weirdly placed deer skull maybe one day you'll have a wall mount worthy of your beauty.

Before closing the trunk you do rab the file. Maybe having it up front with you will help you actually tell Toby about it.

When you open the driver's side Toby's hand is already outstretched and waiting for your phone, this isn't his first rodeo after all. You can't help but smile as you hand it right over to him. He notices, because of course he does, and beams back at you. Sending more warmth throughout your body. After collecting your emotions the guilt comes back around.

You need to stop being horny on main. And in front of Toby no less. It's weird, like you're riled up for him and not because you're attention starved and haven't known solitude for over a week.

By the time you're driving off the lot Toby had picked you 'Let's drive to nowhere' playlist. A perfect choice for tonight, seeing as these are all either songs to dissociate to or have mental break downs with. And with you obnoxious emotions either is up for grabs. Aside from the music the car was silent as you drove out of town.

You were so wrapped up in what to say to Toby, how to say it, when – that you ended up not saying anything at all. Toby on the other hand couldn't wait for you any longer and broke the silence himself.

A habit he seems to have, must not like silences.

“Normally you don't shut up,” the words were harsh but his tone wasn't for once.

He watches as the scenery changes from quaint country road to interstate. “Did something happen?”

An awkward anxious smile makes its way on to your face. You've never been good at schooling your features and smiling was unfortunately your default in the even of confrontation. It was probably just your brain's way of protecting you from emotional trauma.

“Sorta.”

To his credit Toby waits for three full songs before prying for more information.

“Another attack?” he's on edge.

To be fair you are too.

“No, like hell Jo and Nate wo-would let me leave if that were it.” your head jerks twice to the right. You miss Toby's wince.

Nate barely let you leave the shop today, you had to get outside assistance aka Mama.

“Ok, so what happened then?” as you bit your lip trying to find your words Toby is running through his own list of possibilities. “Dis Ma- Tim do something to you?”

Huh?

Why would Tim have anything to do with this? Are they still fighting? But Brian has Connor tonight...that doesn't seem likely but you've really only hung out with Toby thus far. You don't know enough about their group dynamic.

You also didn't miss the beginning syllable Toby said. Was he trying to say 'Matt', 'Mark', 'Manny'? There were so many names that Tim's alter could have but at the least you've more or less been told there is an alter to begin with.

But why would Toby be concerned about Tim's alter? Was he the one that punched Toby? Were they actually the two fighting and not Tim and Toby? This is confusing just being on the outside, you have no idea how the trio copes with this situation.

“Oh no, Tim and Not Tim have been nice to me.” if you're coming clean about the file might as well come clean about knowing Tim has an alter. This way Toby could pass along the message to Tim and Not Tim.

“Back up, not liter-mrrow – literally. 'Not Tim'? You've met Mas-Ma-Masky?!”

Masky? That's a strange name, but who were you to judge the name someone gave themself. Maybe he's a He/Him enby.

“Not like formally or anything, but I'm pretty sure he was the one that helped me and Ronnie out the other week.” you switch lanes to drive off of the interstate, hoping to find a secluded road to have this conversation on.

God knows it's going to take all of your concentration.

Toby was seething in his seat and you know the tension is only going to get worse going forward.

You can hear him muttering to himself, 'of course' or 'he didn't remember', over and over. Finding a good place to park the car you take it and turn to Toby, who's still lost in his own head.

“Tobias.” you call trying to jostle him and it works a little too well in a sense. As he blurts out, “Don't! Masky's dangerous stay away from him!”

He immediately freeze like he hadn't meant to say that. And while it wasn't a tic it was probably an impulse brought on by his anxious frame of mind. He's popping his knuckles again too.

You don't know why you said it, looking at Toby's wide blown pupils – riddled with fear and nerves, you should've kept you mouth shut.

“Dangerous like you?”

Or at least phrased that a bit more eloquently.

Toby's eyes grow dark and his good eye cuts low nearly matching it's swollen twin. A shiver runs down your spine even though you know the malice is not for you.

“What.” he hisses out.

It's not a question, it's an order. He wants to know what you know and maybe even who told you. Maybe he thinks Masky told you something, since that was the topic of the previous conversation.

Dark eyes watch you like a hawk as you pull the file from the map holder in your door. His chest is nearly heaving with every breath at this point, can he hyperventilate? That's a dumb question he most certainly can. And he's either on his way to that or a panic attack. You hope you don't send him into a panic attack, Connor's not here to help. Connor know pressure though, Toby's had him preform it on you during your spells. Would it work the same if you laid on top of Toby? You're getting too distracted right now.

Not trusting yourself to not just back down now, you hold the folder out to Toby to take.

He's just staring at it like it'll attack him at any moment, and honestly it might...just not physically. He glances up at you. There's a funny flash of deja vu likening back to the first time you met. Cold indifferent and confused eyes looking at you as though you were some strange alien they'd never seen before. This time however there's a spark of something else in them. Something dark that festers beneath the surface. Was that hatred, betrayal, or was that the wall he was building back up. The wall that would sever this friendship.

Stop projecting. He hasn't even taken the file, he can't possibly know what's going on right now.

“What's that?” see.

“Nate got super protective after the attack, I guess the other day you just like rubbed him the wrong way. So, he had someone look into you. That file is everything they found...pretty sure it's your whole life, I swear I haven't read anything. Not even a peek. But Jo and Nate tried to tell me the-”

He snatched the file from you before you'd even said you hadn't looked. He opened it and a second later it was closed and he took a shaky breath before looking at you.

It was your turn to look like a deer in headlights tonight, you knew that breath was one of barely concealed rage. This was it, this was where everything ended, all because Nate had “a bad feeling” about Toby.

But you trusted Toby, he wouldn't hurt you. He was your friend.

“So” he lets out a harsh sigh, “you didn't...you haven't read anything?”

You hastily shake your head, “What did they tell you.” he looks off to the side and his mouth is all screwed up, and not in it's normal mangled sense.

“That I shouldn't see you anymore, you did something bad, awful, terrifying; Nate's list goes on but I sort of...fo the fingers in the ear 'lalala' thing” you say sheepishly, “anytime he tries to tell me something. Jo stops when I ask him to. He's not too worried about you...I think.”

Or he's working behind the scene to keep you and Toby separated for the long run but that's speculation and not the point of this conversation so you don't mention it.

Toby's flipping through the file skimming it, no doubt looking for his checkered past, he finds what he's looking for and nods once continuing on like he was reading a grocery list. Which he may as well have been, a grocery list of all his transgressions. With the way his fingers gripped the edges of the folder you could tell he was putting on a front about the contents.

They did bother him.

“Why didn't you look, why didn't you listen YN?” was he seriously angry at you for that?

“It was an invasion of your privacy. Whatever's in there I wanted you to have the ability to tell me on your own terms – if you ever even wanted to. Not because you were forced into it because I found out from some third party that doesn't even know you.”

“Then why the fuck did you -wrong- practically jump into a car with me and then hand me a file on my shitty life!?!” He slammed the file down into his lap with a lot of force, more than he should have used for sure. “They think I'm a menace and they're right you shouldn't have...you need to...” he trails off looking like he's trying to disintegrate the file in front of him with latent laser eye abilities.

His arms are shaking.

No – he's trembling. The way he's biting his lip tips you off. He's trying to hold himself together, trying to stop himself from breaking. This can't be the same person Nate's so worried about.

“You're biting your lip, that's not good for you.”

“Fuck off.” it's half hearted at best, no real weight behind the words. And he does let his abused lip go.

“It's a breech of trust if I didn't tell you this...I wanted to give you the file because you should know it's been read by two people, to my knowledge.” you place a hand on his forearm, “Toby, I don't know what you've done in the past but...you know you aren't that person now, right?”

He's out of the car in an instant, slamming the door behind him. You follow, as dumb as you understand it is, getting out of your car in the middle of no where with a very unstable person.

“Get back in the car. I mrrow I can't...I need a minute.” his shaking is so much worse now that he's standing, It's even put a tremble in his voice.

“You're stupid if you think I'm leaving you alone in the middle of no where.” you stand your ground, he may need space but this is not the place to have it. You're only a few miles from town, you can get him back to the lodge where he doesn't have to see or be near you.

Hell you won't say a word on the way back.

“Like you're not stupid for ignoring the warnings that I'm dangerous! I've killed people! Did you know that?! Did you even think that's what was so bad!?” he's giving you the same glare he had on when he talked about the fight with Tim.

“I could literally kill you right now, you've driven us out to who knows where but still remained in walking distance back to town. You live on the outskirts of it and it'd be so easy for me to make you disappear and everyone would believe your stalkers got to you.” his chest heaves at a vicious rate.

Despite the venom and truth of his words, you can't find it in you to be scared of him. If anything his rant proves Toby must not have been mentally well during his crimes, he's acting like a cornered alley cat not a serial killer. There's a vice grip on you heart at the thought.

“Ok...are you?”

It's like a switch has been flipped in him and he calms instantly.

“What?” he knows what you're asking.

“Are you going to kill me?” you asked like you'd been asking what time it was.

He stares at you looking you up and down, “No...I wouldn't.” his neck jerks triggering your own tic.

“Then I'm safe.” you slowly approach him, much like you would a feral alley cat. “I trust you Tobias.” you reach out to tough his arm again.

It hadn't worked in the car but Toby does seem to calm down faster when he's being touched. Like the sensation brings him back to reality and locks him there.

“Y-you shouldn'n'n't.”

He doesn't pull away this time as you place your hands gently on his forearms. His eyes raise to meet yours.

“...I've killed.”

He sounds so helpless.

The only thing you find shocking about this is that he actually did it. You know people are capable of all sorts of vile things. But the way Toby's voice breaks, the tremors that run through his body. You can't see any similarity with the horror show you once imagined, a Toby covered head to toe in blood and a vicious grin.

The fact that Toby killed doesn't really phase you much more than the ever present 'how' that rings out. He must have had a reason. Jo wasn't too worried so maybe it was circumstantial. Not to mention Toby's among the general public. Could it have just been an accident? A misunderstanding?

“I don't – no I'm not going to say 'I don't care', because this is something that really effects you but I...I guess what I'm trying to get at is..it doesn't bother me. I know it should but, Tobias I just can't picture you as a murderer.” that blood stained Toby flashes before you singing 'liar', “I got to know you before finding out any of this. So, I know there must've been a reason behind it. And that's...and you don't have to tell me anything.”

Nothing more is said, after all you've said everything you could think of to deescalate the situation. And Toby is frozen as he stares at you. You'd have thought he was dissociating had it not been for the way his eyes still held that tiny reflection of light. He was still present, just unsure how to proceed.

Honestly you were stumped too, you had no idea how to begin this conversation let alone end it.

“My – there was...” you rub his arm in a small circular motion. You don't need to hear anything more, it already feels like too much information that he'd lost the agency for.

But your gentle shushing did nothing because he continued, “Clairse says I had a psychotic break and...just went after the biggest stressor at the time.” he pauses with a deep breath and closes his eyes in the process. “She says it wasn't really my fault, I was under...a lot of – I wasn't there, where I should've been mentally. My dad was abusive...anyone in my situation would've broken at some point.”

His words are hollow and robotic. A mantra he's learned to say although he doesn't believe it.

You'd normally give someone the choice but this time you just slip you arms over his shoulders and pull him into a hug. There's no resistance from him either, if anything he leans into the embrace and grips onto your back. His trembling doesn't stop but it's softened by the pressure.

“You don't have to tell me anything Tobes. I don't want you to...not if it's this painful.”

“I want – want to tell you about Lyra.” his voice cracks in tandem with his neck as he says her name.

And he does tell you, against all your protests to take his time. He tells you everything laid out his whole life right in front of you. From being home schooled early on – isolated within his own home for years, to his older sister and her untimely accident that he's still clearly wracked with guilt about, and then the spiral that ended in patricide and a fire that ate his entire neighborhood.

By the end of his recounting he'd stopped trembling and letting out the occasional sniffle – and now the two of you were leaning on the hood of your car. Looking at the stars that just started coming out for the night, you occasionally whispered affirmations to Toby as he tells more stories from his childhood. The good ones this time.

His spirits aren't as high as they were when you'd started your evening but they're much better than they were two hours ago.

You chuckle as he finishes telling you about the time he and Lyra managed to sneak out of the house for a concert only to realize they had no way of getting back into the house when they returned. Their mom just opened the door letting them inside with a small crease in her brow but the smile that played at her lips told them everything they'd needed to know. They weren't in trouble, she'd sent them off to bed and in the morning asked how the show was. From the way Toby talked about his mom you can tell he really loves her. The feeling must've been mutual, if she sent them off to bed instead of dishing out a punishment all because Toby had smiled for the first time in weeks that night.

“Ah, favorite child Toby strikes again.” you joke.

This time Toby didn't say anything, you had been throwing small jokes in to help keep the mood light, but he just looked at you with his head tilted. A grim expression barely crossed his features before being replaced with a lopsided smile and warm but sad eyes.

“Y'kn – Kyra used to say that all the time.”

“Must be true then.”

He looks at his hands with the softest expression you've ever seen. It's an expression normally given to Connor, just sadder this time.

You nudge him getting his attention back to the present.

“You still want that slushie?”

He takes a moment to look around you and finally rests his gaze on the stars. “Not Franlin, not tonight.” he says focusing back on to you.

“Think we're two exits from Riverton if that helps. They have Wawas.”

“Wawas?” he chuckles.

You nod, “Yea they have smoothies and milkshakes.”

“Ooh la la.”

You both snort and head back into the car. It's surreal to be buckling back in, joking around with Toby when just hours prior you thought you'd be ending your friendship the moment you opened your mouth.

You can't help but ask, “Are we cool?”

“Yea...we're good. 's not like you fucking asked for the information.” he leans his head against the window and crosses his arms into himself.

“I'm still sorry about it though.”

“Know you are. But it's over now.” the finality of that statement takes the weight off of your shoulders. For the first time in days you can breathe again.

“Thanks for telling me everything...you didn't have to. But I appreciate you sharing it with me.”

His nails dig into his arms, or they would have if they weren't chopped down to the bit.

“I mrrow I-I didn't tell you everything...”

Nope this was over and done with, no more sad and scared Toby. You couldn't handle anymore, guilt had found a friend in discomfrot and the two had set out to eat you alive with every tremor that tore through Toby's body.

“What are you like a child murderer or something?” Giving a laugh to soften the joke.

….

You missed the way Toby tenses and sucks in a breath. His heart is beating wildly in his chest, so hard he's certain you hear it. Is that where you draw the line? Child murder. Of course you had to have some boundaries he couldn't just expect you to be cool with everything he's done. You were sure to figure it out sooner or later no thanks to your boss. But Toby couldn't loose you now. Not when you've been an anchor he hasn't had in such a long time. He feels almost human again when he's with you.

He's been quiet too long, at least he thinks he has. He needs to say something, joke around back and dismiss the notion. You can't know not now – maybe not ever.

“I'm trans!” he hadn't meant to blurt that out.

He stared at you with wide eyes. Why had he said that, that hadn't even crossed his mind. Just as he was about to laugh it off you reached over and lightly punched him in the arm. That small gesture sent a tickle down Toby's spine. It was such an innocent touch, but he was touched starved and knew it.

“I am too goof. Thanks for telling me but why the wait?”

Fuck now he had to think of something. Talking to you always made him so brain dead.

“Mrrow...mrr-you saw me as a man first...I wanted to keep it that way.” maybe he didn't have to make something up, just tell you the half truth.

Brian had questioned him when they got ready for the picnic why he hadn't worn his trans tie dye shirt and he's said he misplaced it. A bold lie to tell someone like Brian, especially since it'd been a gift from his mom. She had sent it in a care package last June. He'd never loose something his mom gave him, at least not so quickly. If he'd been being honest with himself at the time, he was worried about your reaction. Of course he knew you were trans too so not like you'd be one to be a transphobe, but he didn't want you to stop seeing him as a man and only see him as trans.

“Toby, you are a man. Nothing short of you telling me otherwise will change that for me.”

Toby isn't sure when you grabbed his hand but he's aware of your hold when you start to rub along his knuckles. He watches your thumb circle jis joints and pressing a bit into the divots as he takes another deep breath.

He gives his best smile, a lopsided uncomfortable looking thing, “I don't think I like when you call me Toby.”

#A cure for insomnia #Timothy Wright #timothy wright x reader #timothy wright x brian thomas #masky x reader #ticcitoby #ticci toby #ticci tobyx reader #ticci toby x reader #brian thomas x reader #Brian Thomas #masky #creepypasta fanfic

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thiswasinevitableid · 3 years ago

Note

88. I dropped my watch in an open grave, jumped in to get it, and while you were visiting your dead grandmother, you saw me climbing out of the grave (credit to @enchantedcass)

Indruck, sfw or nsfw, please!

Here it is! This is technically SFW, though there's some discussion of sex and a bit of steaminess at the end.

“Here, these are fresh.” Indrid sets the wildflowers on the small, stone marker, so covered with moss and worn with age that no one can read it. He only knows where to find her because he watched from the Barrens as she was put in the ground.

Temperance Leeds. His grandmother, the one who narrowly avoided accusations of witchcraft, the only human who ever set foot deep enough in the trees to bring him food, to drape blankets over his shaking shoulders. She never forgot him, and he shall return the favor as long as he lives.

There’s a thump of earth behind him and he whirls; it’s midnight in a graveyard, who could possibly be here? The ghosthunters usually wait for darker nights to come. In his periphery, a hand rises from an open grave.

Great, if the dead rise he’ll probably be blamed for that too.

“Fuck” A young man pulls himself from the grave, staring at his cell phone, “c’mon, please don’t be fuckin cracked.” Light illuminates his face and sighs, “thank fuckin christ.”

The light disappears and he blinks, eyes adjusting to the dark. Indrid, too caught up in working out why he’s in the ground, hasn’t bothered to hide as he should. The human notices.

“Uh. I. Uh. Dropped my phone checkin the time. I, uh, definitely wasn’t smokin in the off limits, uh, fuck, graveyard I, uh, I fuck, promise I’ll clean up my beer bottles I mean, uh, fuck.” He scratches the back of his neck, “please don’t call the cops?”

“Can you see me?” Indrid cocks his head.

“Yeah?”

“And you are worried about me alerting the police?”

“I mean, guess we’re both breakin the rules but I kinda figured you were staff here because of the clothes.” He gestures to the ensemble Indrid cobbled together from clothes lines.

Indrid stands, stretches his wings, flicks his tail and watches the human slowly notice the color of his eyes and the outline of his horns.

“Fuck. Look, man, whatever you are, I swear I won’t tell, I’m just tryin to keep busy, please, my folks are already worried about me-”

“I’m not going to harm you.” Lightning cracks through the sky, flashing his shadow across the frightened human, “I just wanted you to see me clearly.”

Rain patters on the leather of his wings. The man looks up at the sky, face seeming even younger as it fills with resignation. Indrid recognizes it’s source.

“You have nowhere to go, do you?”

“No. I, uh, decided I wanted to get outta town and never come back, made it as far as here before I ran outta money.”

Indrid offers his hand, watches the man’s face zero in on the claws, “You may spend the night with me, if you wish. My home is a ways into the woods, but it is dry and warm.”

“Okay.” The young man replies softly, letting Indrid help him up as the dirt turns to mud. Indrid shelters him as best he can with a wing until they reach the cottage. Indrid kneels by the fireplace, lumps kindling into a pile as the young man sets his backpack on a chair.

“Nice place. Gotta admit I was expectin somethin more dilapidated. On account of the whole, uh, y’know.” He gestures to Indrid’s horns and cloven feet.

“It was much like you expected, once upon a time. But a human named Arlo Thacker took pity on me and helped me build it with the aid of a few friends. There.” The fire flickers merrily, “that should keep us warm. You may--ah, what are you doing?”

The young man has removed his jacket and shirt, revealing what Indrid recognizes from human magazines as a sports bra. His hands are now on the fly of his jeans.

“You said I was supposed to, uh, spend the night with you?”

“Yes, in that you may sleep here to be safe from the weather and any who might wish you harm. Not so that you may keep me warm. So to speak.”

“You’re not gonna fuck me?”

Indrid flicks his tail, surprised, “You would offer yourself to me, looking like this?”

The man nods in a way that suggests he’s run a calculus in his head and decided Indrid’s desire was less abhorrent than some other option. Indrid crosses the small living room, bringing them face to face. He reaches out a hand, runs his claws through black hair until the human closes his eyes. Then his hand slides to cup his cheek, one nail tracing fond little shapes on the skin as the man sighs. Against his better judgement, he tilts his head down to nose the dark locks; smoke lingers there, just as alcohol hangs on his breath. He’s so warm, so willing and so very soft. Indrid wants nothing more than to undress him further, carry him to his cozy bedroom and discover what sounds come when he fits their bodies together.

“What’s your name?”

“Duck. It’s a nickname.”

“A charming one. But no, Duck, I will not take such advantage of you. I may be called a devil, but I do not believe in making one trade their body for basic kindness. Come along, the bedroom will allow you more privacy.”

“Thanks.” Duck sways, and Indrid senses a weariness he’s not certain a good nights rest will fix. Tomorrow he will be sure to be gone when Duck awakens, leaving his dry clothes and a map back to town outside his door so that he can do what Indrid can dare to; leave the Barrens and find a life waiting for him in the world beyond.

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

There are some days when Duck thinks his encounter in the woods was a dream. The hand-drawn map he keeps folded among his books tells him otherwise.

He’d come home after that night, made his peace with Kepler for a few years more, and often awoke from dreams where he was pushing through brush in pursuit of a strange shadow. He never cites these as a reason for his taking a job at a state forest in New Jersey that includes the Barrens.

Now, he’s decided to upgrade from his apartment to a house in the woods that’s been listed for over two years and is a goddamn steal because of that.

“As you can see, there’s another residence across the clearing; that’s why the company that built this lovely dwelling was able to do so. They intended to build a nice little community here.”

“The fact that ain’t happened got anythin to do with the reason I gotta stay the night before I make an offer?”

Ned’s smile falters, “Indeed, dear boy. I like you, so I’ll be forthcoming; we’ve never seen anyone in the other house. But they have most certainly seen us.”

Duck settles in for an uneventful afternoon and evening, reads his book and considers whether he could fit some windowboxes on the house for garden space. It’s not until it’s pitch black outside that it starts; footsteps on the roof, followed shortly by red eyes peering in through the living room window.

He opens the front door, the undergrowth rustling hurriedly to his left.

“Uh, hey there. You may not remember me but, uh, we’ve actually met before. About ten years ago. You uh, you let me stay the night?”

Only some crickets, unaware of the tension in the air, reply to him. Then the bushes grow two, ruby red flowers.

“Duck?”

“Yep. Y’know, you never told me your name. If we’re gonna be neighbors, feels like I oughta know what to call you.”

A shadow moves from the trees, stopping when it reaches the light spilling from the windows. He’s as Duck remembers him; short horns sprouting from a mop of silver hair, claws on his fingers and black wings folded on his back. His skin is a swirl of ashy grey and ember red. And his face, while striking, is human. That was the part that always tripped Duck up; the Jersey Devil was always drawn with a goat or horse face, making him question whether that’s who he met all those years ago.

“Indrid. My name is Indrid.”

“Nice to see you again, Indrid.”

The other man smiles, and Duck knows what will replace the mad hunt through the brush in his dreams, “Likewise.”

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

“You know, she had three more children after me. None of them suffered the same curse.” Indrid kicks idly at the long decayed remains of his family home. Their nightly walk brough them close to it this time around, and Duck had been curious. His interest is never prurient or morbid; Duck wants to get to know Indrid, not his legend.

“That fuckin sucks.”

Indrid chuckles, “I do enjoy how you put things so plainly.”

“I’m serious, what kind of folks put their kid out when it’s a baby? I mean, mine weren't always the fuckin parents of the year but at least they understood lookin after me was part of the deal.”

“It was a different time.”

“Fine, but I’m still judgin the hell outta them.”

Indrid looks fondly down at the human, “That’s as fair a fate for them as any.”

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

“It don’t weird you out?” Juno indicates Indrid’s house from where she and Duck are sitting on his front porch. The twin Adirondack chairs are a new addition, as the warmer months mean he and Indrid spend ample time trying to see the stars through the treetops.

“Nah. Indrid’s a real good neighbor when he’s around. He’s uh, from an old family so he don’t gotta work. Part of why he keeps such weird hours.” Duck wishes he could introduce them; it’d be nice for the three of them to have dinner before Juno heads south again. But Indrid has several centuries of shitty human encounters that dig under his skin like splinters, and Duck will never push him to ignore that pain. Besides, there will be other visits.

The summer and fall pass in much the same ways last winter and spring did. Duck works in the park, visits friends in town, runs errands, and generally goes about all the mundane moments that make up a life. Then he spends his evenings in one of the two cottages, or walking alongside Indrid on long-overgrown pathways.

The hardest part of it all is not mentioning Indrid in every single conversation; Duck is already tempting disaster being unable to lie and the neighbor of a cryptid. He doesn’t want to also drive his friends up the wall talking about said cryptids art, or his laugh, or the little herb garden Duck is helping him grow.

They’re in the stretch of days between Christmas and New Year, and Indrid has just finished opening the gift Duck brought him; a thick, soft sweater that Duck stitched a “I” into the front of along with a few little pine tree patches. Indrid smiles at him and notices that Duck’s sweater is done in a similar fashion (in fact, everyone in the Newton family wears one like this). The grin turns bashful and Indrid rubs his cheek against the fabric.

“Thank you, Duck. I, ah, I’m sorry I do not have anything to give you. Holidays are not my strong suit.”

“Just gettin to see you is enough.” Duck stands to refill his tea, Indrid’s gaze caressing his back as he moves through the room. He almost hadn’t gone home, had offered to stay and keep Indrid company. But his friend insisted, reminding him that while it felt odd to be without each other, they both had spent plenty of time apart and been fine. All the same, when he got home yesterday Indrid was knocking on his door before he even put his bag down.

Duck didn’t mind at all. No more than he minds when Indrid sleeps with his head in his lap or strokes his hair while they read on the couch.

The cryptid stokes the fire as the snow gives way to sleet, streaking the windows with icy drops.

“Goodness, what a frigid night.”

“No kiddin.” Duck sets his mug down, turns just as Indrid gets to his feet, “can’t say I mind, kinda reminds me of the night we met.”

The colors of Indrid’s skin make a blush difficult to spot, but Duck’s learned which dip of his head and quirk of his lip means it’s there.

“‘Drid? Did you ever think about that night? Because I did. I, uh, I do.”

“Yes.” Indrid’s tail twitches.

“What do you think about?”

“I, ah, I...you first.”

Duck crosses the creaking floorboards, looking up into red eyes, “I think about how safe it felt when you brought me here. How when I woke up, I felt like this was some kinda weird sign, that I needed to rethink some things and that’s how come I went home, which turned out to be a good call. And” he smirks, “I think about how I was drunk and desperate enough to ask the fuckin Jersey Devil if he was gonna fuck me.”

Indrid blushes once more, studies the ground as Duck touches his shoulder, “I must say that is the part that dominated most of my thoughts. Not right away; for the first few weeks when I thought of you I only hoped you were alright. Then I would let myself imagine that I had been devilish indeed.”

Gently, Duck raises Indrid’s hand and cradles his cheek with it as they did that night, “What would you have done, devil of mine?”

A snicker, “I will answer that only if you tell me whether you are angling for the demonstration that I think you are.”

“Damn right.” He closes his eyes, heart swelling and skin prickling as Indrid steps closer and nuzzles the top of his head.

“I would have asked if you were tired of running. If you wanted a home. And would you like to make it here, so that we could keep each other company. I know in my heart this would have been a selfish offer. I am glad I did not make it, did not trap you here, resign you to a fate that was not what you would have chosen freely.”

“I’m pretty fuckin free these days.”

“And that all on it’s own fills me with joy. But yes, there were nights where I wished I’d been selfish.”

Duck tips his head up, brushing their noses together, “Say you made that offer and I accepted. What then?”

Indrid cups his face with both hands. The kiss is chaste, Indrid sighing against his lips as he twines his claws in his hair. Duck wraps his arms around his waist, lightly teasing the edge of one wing.

“Then” Indrid murmurs, “I’d carry you to bed.”

“Yeah, that part woulda been easier when I was seventeEEN” he laughs as Indrid scoops him into a bridal carry with ease. He’s never been in Indrid’s bed, so he giggles again when he discovers it’s ten times squishier than his own. The cryptid sinks onto it with him, guiding him so they’re face to face on their sides.

“May I undress you?”

“Knock yourself out, darlin.” Affection deep and warm as a thermal spring wells up in him as Indrid carefully removes his sweater and shirt before dainty setting his claws to work on his fly. When Duck is down to his boxers, hunger enters Indrid’s eyes for the first time.

“Oh you are divine.” One hand strokes his leg, pausing at the crease of his thigh each time it reaches there. The other curves along his belly up to his chest before caressing his face, the black claws making his skin seem oddly pale and very fragile in comparison.

Duck touches the hem of Indrid’s shirt and the cryptid freezes.

“‘Drid? Is this okay?”

“Do you...truly wish to see me unclothed?”

Duck surges forward to kiss him as he rucks up his shirt, the movement a sufficient answer for Indrid to raise his arms and let him pull the sweater and battered shirt beneath it away. His skin here is the same swirl of colors as the rest of him, but there’s a dusting of peach fuzz fur across it. It’s delightful under Duck’s tongue, though the little keen of pleasure from Indrid is even better.

“It’s strange” Indrid traces hearts and zig-zags with his claws along Duck’s sides as the human continues kissing his chest and neck, “I thought that seeing you like this would so overwhelm me with need that I’d beg to have you this instant. But it seems I feel much the same way I did in my fantasies of that night.”

“Oh” Duck reaches up to toy with the base of a horn and Indrid groans happily before continuing.

“Had you stayed, knowing you were now mine, I’d have taken my time. Nestled you under the blankets, opened you up on my tongue until you were weak from pleasure. That way it would be easy to take you when I was ready. Perhaps on your back, so you had me to hold onto if you needed. Or on your belly, so you would be even more sheltered from the cold, cruel world by my body and wings. And I’d stay there for hours, make up for decade after decade of touch starvation by glutting myself on your young, willing body.”

“Holy fuck, ‘Drid.” Duck pulls him down into a kiss, “christ that’s a fuckin good image.”

“Mmmm” the cryptid licks his cheek, “it is, isn’t it. But since you are not going anywhere, and we are not limited by the confines of my imagination, I am even less inclined to rush. Will you indulge me with just kisse tonight?”

Duck brushes silver hair from his forehead, planting a kiss there when he’s done, “Of course.”

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

The morning brings several feet of snow and announcement that those who can stay in their homes and shelter from the ongoing storm should. The pines drop heaps of white across the ground, and frost makes the windows so icy it’s better to draw the curtains and stay curled up in the dark.

Duck doesn’t mind at all.

#indrid cold/ duck newton #indruck #meet ugly #monster boyfriend

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reydelcastill0 · 4 years ago

Text

>[Because He Is]

[But He Isn't]

"I'll wait there all night, but please come," Tommy says. Tubbo probably doesn't hear it, but he likes to think they did. When Tubbo is out of sight, he sneaks out of the SMP and crosses onto the Dream SMP. He isn't safe, but the idea that he isn't on enemy territory comforts him. He doesn't take the boardwalk, instead opting to go through the sewers. He hides out in one of his lower rooms and doesn't go up.

If any Manbergian knew he was here, far from Pogtopia, he would be easily defeated and then they'd have a one-up on the rebel SMP. Tommy is thankful that it's Tubbo who knows he's here and no one else. He hopes he can get Tubbo to agree to run away. Tubbo almost brushed him off, seemingly ready to ignore Tommy. The implications of that are frightening. It means Tubbo is beginning to side with Schlatt.

Tommy wouldn't have noticed that before the election, but after losing Tubbo, Tommy began analyzing lots of little things. He noticed more than he ever had before. Tommy began paying attention to body language, learning when to walk on eggshells around Wilbur. He learned when Eret is trying to make herself seem softer so that she doesn't come off as threatening to Pogtopia. Tommy doesn't care that they want to make amends. Eret betrayed L'Manberg. Tommy also learned things about other people, but he focuses on Tubbo. Every time Tubbo tenses their shoulders, or tightens their jaw, or the twitches when their smile is forced— Tommy noticed it all.

Tommy thinks about what it would be like for Tubbo not to need to do any of that anymore. They'll be happy.

"Tommy?" A voice calls out, "Are you here?" It's Tubbo. Tommy, excitedly goes to greet Tubbo.

"Tubbo, I have an idea, we could—" Tommy is at the top floor when a sword is pushed to his throat, just shy of cutting him. "Tubbo?"

Tubbo stands at the entrance of the shack, Schlatt standing behind him more smug than ever. George is right in front of Tommy, holding the sword. The iconic goggles looking at him mockingly.

"Tommy! Buddy, ol' pal! It's so good to see you again," Schlatt says, laughing as he speaks. He clasps his hand on Tubbo's shoulder. Tubbo looks to Tommy, no remorse in his eyes. Schlatt isn't forcing them to do this. "Isn't it good to see him, Tubbo?"

"Yes, Schlatt," Tubbo says without hesitation. Their lips quirk into a genuine smile, but it's small. Not a smirk, but it's the most genuine smile Tubbo has made around the tyrannical goat-man. Tommy hates that it's genuine, because this isn't one of Tubbo's fond smiles, it's more sinister than Tommy thought they were capable of.

"Tubbo?" Is all Tommy says.

"You see, we're a bit tired of you, you know? You and Wilbur always overshadow people, you know? Tubbo... Fundy... No one seems to be able to last long around you guys without feeling worthless. Fundy... His own dad cares about you more than him... And Tubbo? They have to do everything, but you never put in the effort for them!" Schlatt laughs maniacally at the end as though he's told a joke. He dropped a bomb on Tommy, and everything he's said is true.

But Tommy can only say, "Tubbo?" The shock of the situation isn't letting Tommy say much else.

"You were exiled Tommy," Tubbo says, finally responding to Tommy. "You should be executed... But Schlatt agreed to let you live."

"But you're going to jail," George taunts, finally saying something and nothing else.

Schlatt laughs again, and pulls Tubbo out of the room. He let's George handle the situation. Without Schlatt's eyes to focus on Tommy, Tommy quickly escapes, heading into the sewer system. George curses, not having expected Tommy to do that. As competent as George can be, he tends to forget little details every now and then. Luckily for Tommy, George forgot that Tommy can still go back down.

Tommy hears screaming, but he only lets himself run. He won't stop running until he's back at Pogtopia. He doesn't make it far in the sewers before seeing George down there with him. It won't be long before the man catches him, so he goes up the first stream he can. Then he runs until he's somewhere they won't find him.

Tubbo knows Tommy's routes, so he tries to be as unpredictable as possibly. So where can Tommy go without anyone figuring it out quickly? Tommy wants to say Bad or Skeppy, but he'll be fresh out of luck if neither are home. Tommy thinks of Eret for a moment, but he tries to push that thought away.

Tommy ducks behind some trees and catches his breath. In reality, Tommy has no options. Eret has been offering Pogtopians a place to stay. Resources, shelter, protection. That last one is what Tommy needs right now. He thought tonight would go better, but he at least brought the resources. What good is all that if anything he builds will get him caught? He can't run too far without being noticed, and shelter would be even more obvious.

Tommy thinks it's pathetic and that alone makes him cry. He stifles his sniffles so that no one hears him, but he's sure they would anyways. If they're close enough to hear, then it didn't matter if he was quiet, because they would have already known he was there.

Tubbo is really siding with Schlatt, and that thought alone makes Tommy cry harder. He should've never joined L'Manberg, or fought with Dream over his discs. He should've never been born, his mind supplies, but the depressing thought is ignored out of spite.

When his crying finally stops, it's almost daybreak, and Tommy begins to worry. One thing is being on the run at night, but another, and even harder thing, is to do so during the day.

Tommy decides to resort to his last option: Eret. The king would keep him safe, probably even provide escort. Tommy wanted to make it to his strip mine, but in truth, he won't be able to. If Tubbo is smart, and they are, Tubbo will go to the bunker and check for Tommy, whether the strip mine was there or not.

Making his way to the castle, Tommy hopes he won't be caught.

Except a hand is placed on his shoulder and a gun is at his head. "Tommy..." The voice says. It's Tubbo's. Tommy isn't sure what happened next, but perhaps his mind went blank. He numbly follows Tubbo to the White House and he knows Tubbo was talking to him on the way. But by the tone of voice, it wasn't an apology or some plead to stay friends. Tommy, even in this state, can understand that Tubbo sounds rather smug.

"You found him!" A voice exclaims. Tommy snaps out of it, and hopeful, thought the voice was Eret or Technoblade for a moment. It was Schlatt's. "Good job, Tubbo. He's slippery, huh? I know you could find him! If only you did that for me the first day." His last sentence is laced with venom, but it doesn't phase Tubbo. Tommy, on the other hand...

"Well. I guess that it's for you, huh, kid?" Schlatt asks, his question hypothetical. Tommy wanted so badly to make a sarcastic response, to cuss the man out, but seeing Tubbo comply without resistance left Tommy feeling defeated. Tommy lost.

Schlatt and Tubbo walk Tommy to a little jail cell made just for him. It's decorated. Tommy figures that, if Schlatt had it his way, the cell would be barren aside from a bed, toilet, and a sink. The books and paper lining the right wall, the privacy wall blocking the view of the toilet and sink... The carpet... It's Tubbo's doing, and that makes it all hurt more, Tommy thinks.

Tubbo is the one who locks the iron door. Tubbo is the one who willingly hands over the keys to Schlatt, aware that those keys is their only chance at freeing Tommy. Tubbo is the one who tells Schlatt to leave.

And Schlatt does, carefree and without worry. He doesn't even ask Tubbo to go with him and leave behind Tommy. It would be an injustice to separate them, after all, but Schlatt isn't separating them. They're closer than ever. Shame that the cost of that meant Tommy had to be locked up while Tubbo properly steps into the role Schlatt wanted him to. Schlatt need a little brother, after all, and who better than Tubbo?

"I'll let you out of here one day, Tommy, and we could be happy," Tubbo lies, "I promise."

And Tommy believes them. He's like a fool, because he is.

#akobj fic #choose your own adenture #bad ending #dream smp #tommyinnit #tubbo #wilbur soot #technoblade #jschlatt #georgenotfound #dreamwastaken #quackity #the eret #l'manberg #pogtopia #manberg #dream smp election #angst #angst with a sad ending

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kibybun · 4 years ago

Text

Animal crossing au!

Yandere Hawks x reader headcanons

Tw: Yandere, stalking, murder

Enjoy!

🍑You were over everything. You parents had kicked you, you had just found out your boyfriend was cheating on you with your bestfriend, and your job had just let you go. You were so over it.

🍑You storm to your small apartment to see a tiny piece of paper attached to the door. Eviction Notice. Great.

��You slam the door shut and go to pack your things. You were tired of living here and needed a new face with new faces. Luckily you saw an add about a special get away package.

🍑You make it to the airport and thankfully your tears were dried. Upon arriving you see two cute little kids who had raccoon quirks.

🍑They ask you many questions but you didnt mind, it helped you calm down.

🍑You answer all of the questions then you're escorted to a boat. There you meet Kapp'n. He was an old man with an odd mutation quirk but he was really friendly and even sang songs for you and the twins.

🍑You bid Kapp'n goodbye and step onto the docks. There you see a little blue goat named Sherb and a hollow bunny named Coco.

🍑You get to know them more as Timmy and Tommy lead you to a plaza where you meet Tom Nook. He also had a Raccoon quirk.

🍑He explains some stuff about the island and how it's your guy's job to make it a home. He hands you tents and off your journey begins.

🍑You set your tent up by the water and help Sherb and Coco set their's up close to yours. You then help them collect peaches and sticks for Tom.

🍑The sunsets and the campfire is lit. You enjoy your peach juice and help come up with the island name. You already feel so at peace.

🍑You retire for the night and when you wake in the morning Tom Nook asks you to be the Resident Representative. You accept excited to help everyone out. And so your work begins.

🍑You happily pluck all the weeds, help build the stores, build unforgettable bonds with your villagers, and help form the island in your view.

🍑Today you were planting some coconut trees when you saw something in the sky. It was red so you didnt think twice before hitting it with your slingshot. You were very shocked when a man with wings fell to the ground.

🍑He looks at you confused as you apologize profusely. He probably didnt know it was you who knocked him out of the sky.

🍑You introduce yourself and so does he. You're shocked to find out that he was the number two hero who disappeared a few years ago. Either way that doesnt stop you from offering him an island tour.

🍑He seems happy that you dont pester him more about his old career as you show off your island. You hadn't had anyone visit your island so you were excited to see his thoughts about your decor and favorite spots.

🍑You even introduce him to your villagers though, something seemed off by the way he watched you so intently as you interacted with them. It was like he was angry but hid it so well.

🍑You quickly move on and he stops you in front of your orchard. He asks about your native fruit and you say you have peaches and that you're missing pears.

🍑He happily offers to bring you pears in a week or so and you accept hesitantly. This was your island and you wanted to build it all by yourself but you know that it would be really hard to find pears for free.

🍑The sun begins to set and you bid Keigo farwell, being left with an unsettling feeling.

🍑For the next week you felt like you were constantly being watched. Even when you knew for sure your villagers were away from you. It bothered you so you started doing more work at night and staying inside during the day. Your villagers were obviously confused but they simply thought you were sick, sending you medicine, gifts, and get well soon cards.

🍑One night, a week exactly since you met Keigo, you see his vibrant red wings in the sky. You didnt shoot him with a sling shot this time.

🍑Once he lands he happily hands you a box of pears. You take them and ask why he's up so late. He claims that it was really hot on his island and that he had a feeling that you were awake.

🍑You brush past the weird feeling that was brewing in your gut and try to start conversation with Keigo. Everytime you spoke he watched you so intently and was too eager to reply back.

🍑After an hour or so you try to convince him to leave. He was rather reluctant but left nonetheless.

🍑Slowly, overtime it seemed your villagers were avoiding you. You were definitely hurt but you could understand how they feel. You've been hanging out with someone else and it probably seemed like you were avoiding them. You try and apologize but they seemed annoyed that you tried. You settle for sending letters.

🍑At the same time Keigo's visits grew more frequent and lasted longer and longer. It also got harder to try to get him to leave.

🍑You and him were sitting and watching the ocean around 11pm when he asked if he could move to your island. You were shocked and confused. He had his own island.

🍑You decline. You wanted privacy and frankly you were seeing so much of him lately it was tiring. Plus you didnt want to force one of your villagers to love just for him.

🍑He was more than furious that you said no. He stands and starts yelling at you asking why. Did you not want him? Hasn't he been so nice to you? What's wrong with him that you dont want him to live there?

🍑You try to calm him down but he just angrily flies away.

🍑The next morning you wake up to see you have mail. It was from Sherb. It explains that he left and how everyone else was going to leave you. What was odd was how everything was spelled right and grammatically correct.

🍑Either way you fall to the ground and cry. Why? What have you done?

🍑You run and knock on all the doors of your remaining villagers but none of them open their doors for you. Then you see Sherb's empty plot. There, on a sticker, read a new name. Keigo.

🍑You storm over to Tom Nook and ask him what's this all about. He seems startled when you ask but explains how you written a letter to Keigo asking him to live here. Tom slide a paper towards you.

🍑It definitely looked like your hand writing but you can tell the difference.

🍑There was nothing you can do now, he was already moving in. You slump and hide in your house, savoring your last moments of privacy.

🍑You were startled by urgent knocking on your door. You jump up and swing the door open in panic only to see Keigo smiling at you. You were so tempted to slam the door shut.

🍑He eagerly enters your home and plops on the couch. You awkwardly stand and watch him. He notices and pats the spot next to him. When you dont move her angrily stands and pulls you into his grasp.

🍑You endure this, waiting for the perfect opportunity to leave. Once you're free, you run to Dodo Airlines with a spare nookmiles ticket to escape Keigo further.

🍑Once there you have a very pleasant conversation with Wilbur as you sit at the docks of a foreign island. You were later able to sneak back into your house without Keigo finding you.

🍑When you wake up you find a single blue and bloody feather laying upon your pillow. Having a bad feeling about it you leave your house and head to the airport. When you arrive you instantly get chills by how quiet and empty it was. You couldn't find your favorite Dodos from that day on.

🍑Slowly your villagers start to disappear. They didnt leave kind notes either.

🍑Soon after them everyone else was disappearing. First it was Redd, no longer showing up. Then Gulliver. All the people who visit your island had stopped. Then the Able sisters closed their shop one night and it never opened again. You were heartbroken when you saw the Raccoon family and Isabelle nowhere to seen.

🍑You were alone with him.

🍑You tired so hard to escape your little island paradise but everytime you left he found you and brought you back.

🍑You carved any interaction with someone other than him. You missed your villagers and everyone. You just wanted to be held.

🍑And he held you he did.

🍑You didnt want him to hold you but you didnt fight it. He felt real and helped numb the feeling of abandonment you felt from everyone you held dear leaving.

🍑He made so many promises saying he'd never leave you, how he loved you so much, how he'd take such good care of you.

🍑You believed him.

Kiby~💚

#bnha hawks #hawks #hawks x reader #keigo tamaki #mha hawks #my hero academia keigo takami #yandere hawks #hawks x you #boku no hero academia hawks #pro hero hawks #bnha keigo #keigo x reader #mha keigo takami #yandere keigo #yandere x reader #yandere

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the-jade-cross · 4 years ago

Text

No Matter What - Chapter 4

Chapter 4

“FAWN!” Minho yelled and the girl instantly cringed when every head at the breakfast tables snapped up from their plates of eggs and toast, looking first to Minho who had just appeared at the tables, arms open wide as if expecting Fawn to run for a hug, before all eyes glued on her.

“What happened to you not telling anyone my name?” she told Minho, trying to hold back a smile as she planted her hands on her hips.

Minho put on a fake pouting face when Fawn moved to give him no hug but rather to poke his chest playfully. “Technically I didn’t tell anyone your name… I just called you by your name.”

Fawn threw my hands up in exasperation but not before Minho smirked and she turned around to see what he was looking at, only for every boy in the Glade to be staring at her with wide eyes or face splitting grins. A regular band of Cheshire cats!

“So, you chose a name!” Gally said, standing up to pat Fawn on the shoulder. “Should have stuck to Spitfire though.”

Fawn smirked and shoved him, earning a chuckle from the boy before she returned to her seat between Alby and Winston, tucking into her eggs. Over the next thirty minutes of eating, almost every member of the glade came over and called her name, either just to say good morning, ask her a question or merely just saying her name. Fawn finally caught onto the fact that they were all testing out how it sounded.

“I think your choice suits you,” Alby told her when he gave Winston a warning look when the boy called her name for the fifth time in two minutes.

Fawn smiled at him gratefully before she felt someone nudge her foot under the table and she lifted her eyes to Zart who was giving her a mischievous look.

“What?” Fawn whispered, concerned.

“Did you know that I put six names in that jar?” he asked in a low voice so only Minho, Alby and Fawn could hear since the others were all talking to each other.

Her eyes widened, “Indeed? I think everyone put a few ideas in there.”

“All but one,” Zart whispered. “Newt only put one name in the jar.”

Fawn frowned, tilting her head to the side, “Which one?”

Zart just gave her a grin like he had just peed his pants and was proud of it and she realized what he was hinting at. “He was the one who suggested Fawn?”

The boy nodded and she felt her cheeks heat up before Minho and Alby looked at her with knowing smirks on my face.

“Oh, shut up,” Fawn muttered.

“We didn’t say anything,” Minho pointed out.

After finishing breakfast, she headed to the Bloodhouse to make sure the animals had feed before she herded the goats to the small stretch of forest. According to Winston, they had discovered about a year ago that when the goats trampled through the woods and ate the undergrowth, it killed the small brush growing there which then meant that the dead plants composted the earth better and with the goats trapsing around the woods, it helped beat up the hard chunks of earth.

Opening the goat pen, she gently shooed the four goats out of the pen and toward the woods. The four creatures had just begun to nibble around when Fawn sat down against a nearby tree to watch them. She heard a stick snap behind her, and she leapt up on instinct, only for a quick apology to escape a familiar person.

“Newt!” She said, sighing in relief. “You scared me!”

The boy grinned sheepishly before coming to stand over her, “I just came to grab some compost. Mind if I sit?”

Fawn nodded and he sat down against the tree, their shoulders touching just slightly as they watched the goats eat.

“So, I hear you chose a name,” Newt observed.

Fawn smiled, nodding, “Yes, and I heard that you were the one who suggested it.”

Newt’s face immediately went bright red and Fawn patted his shoulder, “Don’t worry, I didn’t find out till this morning. I rather liked your choice… it felt right.”

Newt smiled, “It was the first name that popped into my head. Couldn’t think of anything else that suited you.”

“Thanks,” she said, smiling at him. “It’s nice to know that I don’t have to keep being called Greenie or Spitfire.”

A chuckle erupted from Newt at her words and Fawn blushed at the sound.

“You know I was thinking,” Newt observed. “We all came here, only remembering our first name… nothing about our past or families before this. Unlike you… you remember someone from your past… and something of significance… even if it is just slightly… the jar game gave me an idea.”

Fawn turned to look at the boy and got lost in the way his brown eyes smiled. “What if we used the jar and made last names for ourselves? Giving us a sense of trying to connect with our past.”

“I thought we couldn’t remember anything?” She pointed out. “We were brain washed.”

Newt nodded, “But you remembered something.”

“It might have just been an accident,” Fawn suggested. “Maybe… whoever the people are that run this place… ran out of brain washing liquid or something.”

Newt snorted. “It is because you won’t give up Fawn. You woke up in the box with a purpose, a want to remember. Your body remembered how to draw your bow and you were able to remember the name: Drake and those two letters: WR. Maybe if we tried to tap into our pasts a little, we might be able to remember.”

Fawn stared at Newt as if he had just discovered that the earth was round. “You used my name.” Newt’s eyes widened. and he blushed before he saw the huge smile on her face.

“I like it when you say my name,” She tells him. “it sounds right.”

Newt beamed at her before shyly looking back at the goats. Fawn turned to look as well but felt Newt brush her hand with his and she couldn’t hold back the huge grin on her face.

******

“Fawn has been acting something strange,” Gally had told Newt that morning when the boy had overheard Winston and Gally talking about how Fawn had almost mistaken the feed for the chickens for the feed for the goats.

“She has only been here a few weeks,” Winston had observed. “Sometimes it takes a while to catch on.”

“It’s not just that!” Gally had argued. “Whenever I sneak up on her, she acts like she doesn’t know me until I speak and then she relaxes. It is strange.”

“Gee I wonder,” Winston rolled his eyes. “Sneaking up on her isn’t going to exactly get you a kiss!”

Newt chuckled when he remembered the way Gally had looked appalled at Winston’s words. He strode briskly toward the washroom and pounded on the door to make sure no one was in. Under his arm was a small towel and a scrub brush. It was his day to scrub the grime off himself and was glad that Alby had taken his yesterday or he would have had to share the showers.

He was just about to enter when he heard water running… that’s strange… no one should be showering… Pushing open the door, he stepped inside and froze in his tracks. Since Fawn had arrived, they had separated a corner of the shower with a tarp for Fawn to have privacy. The girl had apparently thought herself alone for she had not pulled the tarp all the way down which revealed her knees all the way to her feet. She was barefoot obviously with water dripping onto the slightly damp section of floor.

Newt suddenly realized that he was staring when Fawn moved to open the tarp and he spun around, accidently making a noise as he did, and he heard Fawn freeze.

“Who’s there!?” she demanded.

The boy glanced over his shoulder to see that Fawn was peeking her head around the tarp, hiding behind it with worry and fear on her face.

“It’s just me,” he replied, and the girl immediately relaxed as if she hadn’t realized who he was a moment before.

“You scared me,” Fawn admitted. “Erm… could you just wait a sec?”

Newt quickly spun around to give her privacy. When Fawn emerged from behind the tarp, her red hair was soaking wet and matted to her head. Her shirt and pants hung loosely on her previously dried body. She was pulling a comb through her wet locks as her bare feet padded over to Newt.

“Alby said it was alright if I used the shower,” the girl explained, sheepishly looking at her feet. “I didn’t know you needed to use it.”

Newt quickly shook his head, “No, no, don’t worry about it! Alby probably just forget to let me know. I’m sorry that I walked in on you.”

Fawn blushed and quickly pushed her now brushed hair onto her back and Newt became increasingly aware that the wetness of her hair dampened her shirt, making it see through, revealing her blue sports bra beneath. He averted his eyes just as Fawn turned around to grab her things. This gave Newt a perfect view of her back and his eyes were drawn to a dark mark visible beneath the fabric… just between her shoulder blades.

“Fawn…what is this?” he asked, touching the mark.

Fawn’s hand reached back and felt but when she found nothing, she frowned, “I don’t know…”

Newt’s fingers brushed the top of her shirt. “May I?”

“Yes please,” the girl said, curiosity in her voice as Newt pulled the back of her shirt down enough to see what he saw was a tattoo.

“It’s a rose,” Newt told her, “A white rose tattoo.”

Fawn frowned and her fingers searched for the marking but couldn’t find it, so Newt guided her hand.

“When you came up in the box, you remembered the letters: WR. Do you think it stands for White Rose?”

Fawn nodded, “That sounds strangely familiar… but I wonder why I remembered it… it couldn’t be my last name.”

Newt shrugged as he let go of her shirt, “Perhaps a nickname? Or perhaps a club you were in.”

“Possibly,” the girl muttered, her voice drifting off into deep though. She readjusted her shirt before grabbing her plaid shirt and pulling it over the white t-shirt. She then turned to Newt and locked her big orbs on his chest.

“Promise you wont tell? I am already strange enough being the only girl and the only one to not remember my name,” She pleaded.

Newt smiled and grasped her shoulders, “Your secret is safe with me.”

Fawn beamed, lifting her eyes to his but Newt noticed that she didn’t make direct eye contact. Just then, the sound of arguing voices came from outside and the two kids hurried out to see what the commotion was about. It looked like Gally was having a heated argument with Alby and Winston was trying to help calm the boy down while Alby glared at Gally seriously.

“What’s going on!?” Newt called

All eyes turned to them and Gally stormed over to Fawn. Seeing him coming, Newt planted himself in front of Fawn as Gally yelled at her, panting.

“You’re hiding something! I can tell! You are so slow and quiet, and you never look us in the eye! Those are the actions of a traitor! Are you spying on us for Wicked!? Are you a secret assassin or something!?” he bellowed.

“Gally!” Newt snapped. “Snap out of it man! WE all know Fawn is not a spy or an assassin. She has done nothing wrong!”

“Then how come she isn’t looking me in the eye as we speak!” Gally yelled, pushing toward her but Newt and Alby held him back.

Sure enough, Fawn was staring at him wide eyed but her eyes were fixed on his chest instead of his eyes.

“Look me in the eyes traitor!” Gally yelled, almost like a grazed animal.

“Gally!” Newt yelled, shutting him up. “Enough!”

Turning to Fawn, he looked at her gently, “Fawn, can you look me in the eye? Just once?” he asked.

Fawn’s eyes turned to him but didn’t meet his eyes. The whole glade was silent as Newt patiently waited for Fawn to remove her eyes from his shoulder to his gaze. Finally the girl shook her head and looked down. Gally hollered.

“See!? She is hiding something!”

:With the way you are bellowing, I don’t blame her,” Alby observed sternly.

“Fawn, why cant you look at me?” Newt asked, taking a step toward the shaking red head.

Fawn let out a shaky breath and fought back tears. “It is just like I told you earlier… I’m strange enough as it is.”

Newt shook his head, “That is not what this is about Fawn.”

The girl nodded, “IT is… because I want to look you in the eye but I cant… because I don’t know where they are… or what color your eyes are.”

Gally frowned, “What is that supposed to mean!? An excuse?”

Fawn sighed, “The thing is… the reason I cannot and have been acting quiet is so I can listen. Because I cannot see you guys.”

The Gladers remained silent, wishing for the quivering girl to continue.

“I’m blind.”

#maze #maze runner #newt x oc #newt x you #newt x y/n #newt x reader #newt

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cordonian-literature · 4 years ago

Text

The Aftermath - Ch. 27

Apples and the Doctor’s Office

Summary: After the first day of the Apple Blossom Festival and Drake’s birthday, Riley, Liam, and the kids visit a doctor

Word Count: ~4.8k

Warnings: mention of character death, mention of addiction/drug abuse

*All characters belong to Pixelberry, except those that are unique to my story (I’ve also used some characters and fictional instances from Donna Tartt’s book “The Goldfinch”)*

Catch up here!

Tags: @captain-kingliamsqueen @gkittylove99 @lovablegranny @iam-the-kind-and-thoughtful @mom2000aggie @kingliam2019 @queenrileyrose @shanzay44 @cordonianroyalty @hopefulmoonobject @hopelessromanticmonie @cinnamonspongecake @kuladekiwi @twinkle-320 @iaminlovewithtrr @charlotteg234 @amandablink @texaskitten30 @tinkie1973 @louiseingram1208 @queencatherynerhys @pens-girl-87 @missevabean @ladyangel70 @sanchita012 @cordonianprincess @liamandneca @cordonia-gothqueen @pink-diamond13 @queenwalton @yourmajesty09

I’m not sure if the tags are working or not, but I hope I got everyone down! If you would like to be added/removed, please let me know :)

✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧

- Eleanor -

Mama woke us up extra early the morning after the beach party. While she helped bring my stuff to the car that was waiting outside, I decided to go back onto the bed and take a nap until it was time to actually leave. But when I opened my eyes, I was already in the car, my head on Mama’s leg.

Mama and Daddyo were sitting next to each other and talking quietly while Gabe was sleeping on the other seat. I looked out the window to find that we were driving by large fields. There were trees surrounding little farms, and I saw animals that looked like sheep or goats, but I couldn’t tell from the distance.

We eventually reach a large house and Daddyo wakes up Gabe to eat breakfast. When we walk into the kitchen there are already waffles, omelets, and fruits waiting for us. During the meal, Daddyo tells Mama that he’s worried about some investigation but Gabe and me are too focused on eating to pay attention.

After that, Daddyo asks us what we want to do today, and Gabe suggests soccer. I didn’t really want to play, but I still follow the two of them outside.

While we walk through the large house, there are people working and cleaning like crazy. I ask Daddyo why they’re doing that, and he tells me it’s because the court is going to show up in a few hours.

Daddyo leads us far away from the building and towards a bunch of apple trees. I skip alongside him, humming whatever tune came into my head. Him and Gabe find four sticks and push them into the ground. Another person walks out of the house with a soccer ball, and Daddyo gives it to me to start out the game.

I kick it, trying to get it back towards him, but the ball goes to Gabe instead, who kicks it into the goal and gets a point. He goes to get the ball and gives it back to me. When I try and kick it towards the goal to get myself a point, I kick it in the wrong direction again and it ends up at Daddyo’s feet, who manages to kick it into the goal to get us a point.

The three of us play around for a few hours until some servants come out and tell us that the court has started to arrive, and Daddyo told us we needed to go get ready for the Apple Blossom Festival.

Mama helped us get dressed, but Daddyo had to leave to get ready for something. I was upset since I wanted to spend more time with him, but Gabe said that we would probably see him later.

After everyone is dressed, Mama, Gabe, and me walk back over towards the apple trees with Duchess Olivia and Countess Hana. I ask Mama if Uncle Boris and Aunt Rowan would come, too. She tells me that Aunt Rowan is with Lord Maxwell, and comments that she hasn’t seen Uncle Boris since the horse race.

We keep walking until we reach a small area where there aren’t that many trees, but a lot of people were gathered. There were photographers and people who I recognized from other events. I see Daddyo walk towards the front of the crowd, with Bastien and some other guards walking behind him.

He faces the crowd and asks for everyone’s attention. I notice Heather out of the corner of my eye and walk up to her. Uncle Leo gives me a high-five when he sees me and Hunter walks towards my brother.

“Welcome to the annual Apple Blossom Festival!” he calls out. People clap lightly, and I see Lord Maxwell start cheering. “Traditionally, the Queen Mother and other ladies of the court would taste the first apples of the season, so in her memory, I propose we all take a bite.”

There are some nods, and servants begin passing out apples to the adults. When a servant gives an apple to Uncle Leo and Aunt Katie, Uncle Leo takes both apples to give to Hunter and Heather. The same servant gives Gabe and me apples, and someone shoves a camera into my face.

“Go on, kiddos,” the person behind the camera says to me and Gabe. “Take a bite of the apple.”

I look at the fruit in my hand, which is probably one of the brightest and reddest apples I’ve ever seen. Gabe takes a bite of his apple, but before he can even start chewing, he starts coughing again. The cameraman angles his camera away and asks Gabe if he’s okay.

“Yeah, sorry if I coughed on your camera,” Gabe says.

“That’s fine,” the man says. “Were you choking?”

“No, my chest just started hurting.”

“Gotcha. Wanna take another bite?” The cameraman looks over at me, and I take a large bite of my apple.

It’s sweet and sour at the same time. I hate sour things, and I feel like my cheeks are burning. I force myself to swallow the apple and smile at the cameraman, because spitting it out would probably look gross. “Yummy!” I manage to say.

“Adorable!” the man says, then turns to take a picture of Gabe, who smiles while chewing.

“That was delicious,” Gabe comments. The cameraman thanks us and walks away.

“That was sour,” Hunter says, wiping some juice off his chin.

My brother shrugs. “I like sour foods.”

Gabe finishes his apple and asks for another one. When the rest of the court has also eaten at least one apple, Daddyo asks for everyone’s attention again.

“As everyone has taken a bite of their apples,” he begins. “I would like to thank our farmers, ones whose families have provided for Cordonia for generations.” He clears his throat, then starts talking again. “There is something else I wish to speak about. I know that recently Cordonia has faced many challenges. There have been natural disasters, economic recessions, international disagreements, and uprisings by anti-monarchist organizations. But Cordonia and her people have always been resilient. We’ve always stood together in unity.

“Some of you I’ve known since my early childhood,” he continues, “and you’ve held my trust above all others. But this is a very unique issue we are facing, and Cordonia has learned from experience that her allies are not always who they are said to be.

“My security team has reason to believe that the late Queen Mother did not die of a heart attack, but was actually poisoned, just as my own mother was more than thirty years ago.” People in the crowd gasp and begin whispering with each other. “Investigations are being led, but my team has suggested furthering those investigations by searching the belongings of certain members of the court. Do not fret, your privacy will be respected and if need be, the search may be done while you are present.”

The crowd of photographers and reporters start yelling questions towards Daddyo, and Uncle Leo leads us all back towards Mama and Duchess Olivia.

“Did you know Regina was poisoned?” Uncle Leo asks.

“Yes,” Duchess Olivia answers him. “Jacob told me what he discovered this morning. I didn’t know if Liam would tell the people, and I’m surprised that he did.”

“He was worried about it this morning,” Mama adds. All the adults turn to look back at Daddyo, who still has microphones being pushed in front of his face.

“I hope he’s doing okay,” Uncle Leo says.

“I’m sure he is.” Duchess Olivia turns back to Uncle Leo when he speaks, and there’s an angry tone in her voice.

Jessica walks up to the group, pulling Drake behind her. She greets everyone and pinches Gabe’s cheek. Drake starts talking with Uncle Leo, and Jessica turns to Mama.

“I wanted to ask if you would join Drake and I for dinner tonight,” she says. “I made a reservation at a restaurant for his birthday. It would be lovely if you all attended.”

“That’d be nice,” Mama says. “We could all go.”

“No, thank—” Duchess Olivia begins, but Mama gives her a look, and instead says, “Fine.”

“I’ll go fill in Hana and everyone else,” Mama says, walking away.

“Hey, do you wanna go pick some apples?” Heather taps my shoulder to ask.

I search the crowd for Daddyo, but can’t see him anymore. I tell Heather sure, and our brothers follow us towards some trees.

Hunter and Gabe are the ones who want to climb up, and Heather and me are left near some baskets. Gabe tells us to catch the apples they throw down at us and to count them.

For a second I think it’s not a good idea, since I don’t think I’ll be able to catch the apples and am a little scared that I would drop them, but Gabe already sends one down and I throw myself at it.

I catch it, but land face-forward in the grass. Gabe calls to me from the top of the tree, saying that I had to get up.

Heather and I continue to catch apples until our baskets are full. I had lost count around twelve, but Heather counts my basket, too, and says that the four of us collected about fifty apples altogether.

Hunter frowns, complaining that we could have done better. Heather looks around for where we have to bring the baskets. And Gabe reaches down to eat another apple.

I see Aunt Katie call for Hunter and Heather. The two of them walk away from us, and we wave goodbye to them. Gabe and I start walking away to go look for where Mama is, but Hunter and Heather call to us again to say that we’re all going somewhere together.

Gabe and I are led in a car that has Lord Maxwell, Aunt Rowan, Duke Bertrand, Duchess Savannah, and Bartie. They tell us that everyone is headed to the same place, and that we would be celebrating Drake’s birthday.

“I wonder what Jessica has planned,” Maxwell wonders aloud.

“Probably cake?” Gabe asks.

“Naturally,” Maxwell replies. “But do you think there’s a chance she didn’t get balloons?”

“We can bring some!” I suggest. “In case Jessica forgot.”

“I like the way you think, baby blossom,” Maxwell says.

He crawls over towards the driver and asks him to bring us to a place we could get balloons. Duke Bertrand tries to stop Maxwell, but he refuses to sit down and the driver has already parked in front of a store.

Me and my brother follow Maxwell into the store, who goes straight to the counter.

“Do you have balloons?” he asks. There are balloon designs on display right on top of our heads, and I pull Maxwell’s sleeve and point at them. “Hmmm...” he stares at them for a while, then turns back to the person at the counter. “Do you maybe have a balloon that’s shaped like a whiskey bottle?”

“No, but I got champagne ones,” the old man says.

“Good enough, we’ll take ten,” Maxwell requests.

“Ten?” my brother and me ask in union.

“Do you think we should get more?” he turns to us and asks. “What if we get forty and say ‘Happy Fortieth Birthday’? He’s not forty yet but it would be funny.”

“I mean, I don’t know,” Gabe starts. “If Lady Jessica already got balloons, then bringing forty more would seem like a little too much.”

Maxwell sighs. “Fine.”

“Gabe is now the bossy blossom,” I point at my brother to announce.

“What? No—” he tries to protest.

“Are you gonna tell me not to call you bossy?” I question, crossing my arms in front of me.

“That would make you extra bossy,” Maxwell states.

“But—” he tries again.

“Stop being bossy, bossy blossom!” I cry.

Gabe turns away from me. Maxwell pats him on the head and says, “It’s okay, bossy blossom.”

Maxwell and I laugh while Gabe stares at the balloons.

We all hold three balloons, and Maxwell holds an extra one. When we get back into the car, Duchess Savannah and Aunt Rowan laugh, and I can tell that Duke Bertrand is upset, but he doesn’t say anything.

For the rest of the ride we punch the balloons at each other until we have to get out of the car. Aunt Rowan ties some balloons to my wrists because she was worried they would fly away.

When we enter, there’s a guy in a fancy suit who greets us.

“This is not the kind of establishment you bring childish balloons into,” Duke Bertrand whispers loudly to Maxwell.

The three of us ignore him and follow the fancy man through the restaurant until we reach a very big table. Everyone else is already seated, including Uncle Leo, Aunt Katie, Hunter, and Heather.

Except for the ones me, Gabe, and Maxwell hold, there are no balloons in the room. And there aren’t any decorations either.

“Happy Birthday, Drake!” Maxwell cries, walking over to where Drake was sitting.

“Tie ‘em to his chair,” Uncle Leo comments, pointing at the balloons.

While Maxwell works the knot of the balloon tied to my wrist, Drake grabs the string and pulls it close to his face. “You know these are champagne bottles, right?”

“Imagine that it’s whiskey,” Maxwell tells him.

I follow Gabe towards a few seats. I got to sit on Mama’s right, while Gabe was on Daddyo’s left, with the both of them in between us. Thankfully Heather was next to me. Gabe feels far from us, and when he tries to say something to me, I couldn’t really hear him. I wave at him to exaggerate the distance.

The adults talk steadily throughout the meal. Mama and Daddyo were sitting close to each other, mostly whispering. Countess Hana was talking with Maxwell and Aunt Rowan. Duke Bertrand laughed with Uncle Leo, and sometimes I saw Daddyo send looks in their direction.

As time went on I got more and more tired, and I wanted to ask Mama when they would finally cut the cake, but then Drake and Jessica stand to thank everyone for coming, and we all head outside.

“No cake?” I whisper at Gabe when we take a seat in Daddyo’s limo.

He shrugs. Mama and Drake join us in the car, and I wonder where Jessica is. I spend the drive back looking out at the streets we passed.

“Do you think they’re already done with the search?” Drake asks.

“Perhaps,” Daddyo answers. “I don’t believe it should have taken the entire day, especially if no one resisted.”

“Do you really think it could have been someone from the court?” asks Mama.

Daddyo shrugs. “I’m not sure. I certainly hope not.”

When we get out of the car, we see Lord Maxwell and everyone else walking into the big house. They wave at us, and we begin to follow, but someone walks up to Daddyo.

“Your Majesty,” the man says. “There is something you need to see.”

The five of us follow the man up the stairs and down dark hallways. I don’t even hear people talking, and the big house suddenly feels spooky.

The man leads us into Gabe’s room, where there’s Bastien and some other people in similar suits. Bastien stands over Gabe’s open suitcase, and he looks down at something on his bed.

“What is it?” Mama asks. She rushes forward to lean over the thing that Bastien was looking at, then gasps.

Drake and Daddyo follow Mama, and their faces frown when they inspect the object.

“I...” Mama tries to speak. “I saw this at the Met. Before the bomb went off.”

Gabriel and I look at each other, confused.

“What on Earth was it doing in Gabriel’s belongings?” Daddyo questions Bastien.

“I don’t know. We didn’t even know this was the prince’s room,” Bastien tells everyone. “My team believed it was the room of another Lord or Lady, so we decided to inspect it. We only realized it was His Highness’ room after we had already found the painting.”

What painting are they talking about? I turn to look at Gabriel, but his chin starts to shake. All the adults are still questioning each other, and since they aren’t really paying attention to me, I make my way over to the edge of Gabe’s bed to look at what the problem was.

It was a painting of a bunch of dancers. They were wearing bright-pink pointe shoes, and I figured they were ballerinas. The whole thing looks like it was recently painted, but I tap the painted flower in the painted girl’s hair, and my finger comes away dry.

“What’s the commotion?” Duchess Olivia comes into the room. She towers over me to look at the painting. When she looks back at everyone, she’s just as confused.

“This painting,” Mama begins to explain, “was in the Met the day of the bombing. The Dance Class. There was ash on it, and... look, they’ve painted over it to make it look new.” Mama points to certain places on the portrait.

“Weren’t the missing paintings around Europe connected to the incident at the Met?” Drake asks.

“They were,” Duchess Olivia speaks up. “And there was some evidence that the perpetrators were from Europe, but nothing came of it.”

“So that means it is someone at court,” Drake states.

“I’m still concerned as to how the painting got into Gabriel’s room,” Daddyo states.

“Mom, I didn’t do anything,” Gabe goes to our mother. Tears are falling down his face and he’s having a hard time breathing.

Mama holds his head in her hands. “Baby, I know you didn’t.”

She holds Gabriel while he cries. Duchess Olivia and Bastien continue their conversation.

“Everyone whose belongings were searched showed no suspicious behavior or resisted in any capacity,” Bastien tells us.

“Give me the names of whose rooms were checked,” Duchess Olivia demands. “I’ll have Jacob look into it.”

Gabe starts to cough roughly into Mama’s side. He tries to take in a breath, but a cough, vibrating from his chest, forces its way out. Gabriel’s face goes pink, and Daddyo and Bastien kneel in front of him.

“Your Majesty,” Bastien says. “Perhaps the prince should see a doctor.”

Daddyo’s focused on making sure Gabe can breathe, and once he’s calm and Mama wipes the tears from his face, Daddyo nods at Bastien.

“I’ll schedule an appointment for you early in the morning, Your Majesty.”

“C’mon, you two,” Mama says to us. “Let’s get you both to bed.”

...

Mama woke us up extra early again, but this time I wasn’t so tired. Her and Daddyo fussed over Gabe while we ate breakfast in a small dining room.

They brought me to the doctor’s office with them. I didn’t like that I was back in the hospital, but when we were brought to the waiting room, I was glad that I didn’t see any patients or sick people.

Once a nurse tells us that the doctor will be here in a few moments, Gabe comments, “I ate two whole apples yesterday but we still ended up at the doctor’s.”

Mama laughs. “Really?”

“That’s a lie,” I add in. “He ate three.”

“The extra apple didn’t save me,” he states.

The doctor arrives and shakes Mama’s and Daddyo’s hands. She says that she wants to bring Gabriel into another room to run some tests and ask some questions. Mama follows Gabe, and Daddyo and me are left in the waiting room.

“Is Gabe sick?” I ask him after Mama and Gabe have left.

“I’m sure your brother is fine. There’s nothing to worry about, angel.”

His phone rings, and I expect him to walk away and answer it, but he stays in his seat and talks. I spend the next few minutes walking around the waiting room, picking up magazines and staring up at the television. I grab three booklets from the stands and hand two of them to Daddyo, who is still on the phone.

He leans back in his seat and watches me flip through the magazines while talking. When I’ve gone through all of them and sniffed more than twelve perfume samples, he’s finally done with his call.

“What are we doing tomorrow?” I ask him. I was hoping that we could go to the movies again so we could all spend time together. Even though we had fun yesterday morning, the moments felt too short.

“The fox hunt is tomorrow. We’ll be visiting an ancient village.”

“We’re gonna hunt?!” I cry.

He gives a deep laugh. “No, no, we’ll just ride horses to get to a village.”

“Phew,” I voice, making him laugh again. “Wait, I don’t know how to ride a horse! Do you?”

“Yes. Perhaps after the baking contest today, I can teach you and your brother.”

I wanted to ask him what the baking contest was for, but the doctor finally comes back to tell us that we can come into the room now.

Gabe is sitting on the examination table, and Mama stands next to him. I take a seat next to the table and Daddyo stands next to the doctor.

“So I’ve taken a physical exam,” the doctor starts explaining, “and a lung function test. We’ve been able to determine that Gabriel has asthma.”

Mama and Daddyo both frown.

“How?” Mama asks. “He’s not allergic to anything, doesn’t have allergies...”

“Sometimes,” the doctor starts again, “asthma can be triggered in children by cold air, excessive exercise, or air pollutants.”

“Air pollutants?” Daddyo questions.

“Like tobacco smoke.” The doctor pretends to hold up a cigarette to her lips.

“Oh, God,” Mama whispers, putting her face in her hands.

“What is it?” Daddyo asks.

Mama lifts her head again. “Theo smoked. A lot. While I was pregnant and during Gabe’s first year. I think he only fully stopped before Ella was born.”

Daddyo’s mouth falls slightly agape and his eyebrows furrow.

“Well, that explains it,” the doctor states. “I’ll give you some treatment options so it doesn’t get worse, but if it does, make sure to give us a call.”

Gabriel jumps off of the examination table. We walk together out of the hospital and back into the car.

No one says anything while we drive back. Mama and Daddyo both seem tense. I want one of them to start talking, but I’m afraid to speak.

“I thought that Theo would go outside to smoke,” Mama finally says. “I didn’t even consider...” She trails off and puts her head back in her hands.

“Didn’t consider that you were putting my son in the care of a drug addict?” Daddyo says quickly. We all turn to him. He looks at Mama like he’s angry. I’ve never seen him or heard him like that. I don’t understand why talking about Daddy made him mad.

“What?”

“Instead of bringing him to me, where I could have kept him safe, you decide to bring my son into the hands of a stranger?”

“You’re saying that as if I had a choice.”

“You’ve always had a choice, Riley!”

“Not then, I didn’t—”

“You always did.” Their voices get louder. I think they’ve forgot that we’re still in the car with them. “If you had refused to depart with him, what was the worst that could have happened?”

Mama’s voice breaks. “I did refuse!”

“Truly? Look where we are now.”

“Do you really think that I left that day with no intention of coming back? I tried for years to convince Theo!”

Daddyo doesn’t say anything for a few moments. He looks away from Mama, but not at us, until he finally says, “Riley, we were the ones who had to bring you back, and that was when you were on death’s door.”

“So you’re assuming that I never even tried to come back?”

“Clearly, Riley, you didn’t!” he screams. “You told me that you traveled to Europe numerous times, but not once did you try to contact me.”

“I wasn’t allowed to!”

“So you voluntarily let that man determine my son’s health and your life?”

They’re both leaning forward in their seats. Mama looks like she’s ready to cry. I can’t tell how Daddyo’s feeling, but the tone of his voice kinda scares me.

“You’re blaming me for all this, aren’t you?” Mama asks. “He’s still just a kid, his asthma hasn’t gotten into anything worse—”

“And if it did? If it had gotten worse before we realized it? Tell me, Riley, what would have happened then?”

Mama pauses for a moment. She looks helpless. I want to hug her, but I was still too frightened to move a muscle.

Daddyo breathes out and leans forward, looking down at his shoes with his elbows on his legs.

“My father battled lung cancer for the last few years of his life,” he continues. “How do we know if Gabriel’s condition won’t worsen into something similar?”

“We can talk to the doctor about it,” Mama suggests in a small voice.

Daddyo doesn’t say anything. We all fall into silence again. I turn to look at Gabe, who seems like he’s trying to melt back into the seat. Craning my neck, I try to see what’s out the window, wondering how long it would take us to get back to the big house.

I turn to look at Mama. My mother’s face is slightly pink, and there are tears streaming down her face. I get up out of my seat to hug her, wrapping my arms around her waist, but she doesn’t react.

Daddyo looks at her, but he doesn’t have the same face on from when he usually talked to Mama. He looked mean and angry.

“What about Boris?” Daddyo speaks up. He turns to Mama again, but she just stares at him. “He was with Theodore when he forced you to leave New York?”

“Yes.”

Daddyo sighs and leans back in his seat. “Did he also forbid you from returning to Cordonia?”

“No,” Mama answers simply.

“So it was just Theodore?”

Silence again. Daddyo doesn’t look away from Mama.

“What did he say about me that... inspired you to leave?”

She doesn’t answer him.

Someone opens the door to the car. I didn’t even realize we had stopped driving. Mama wipes her tears and gets out of the car, rushing into the big house. As soon as Daddyo steps out, some people surround him and start talking to him. His expression changes quickly, and it’s almost like he was never mad.

Gabe and me get out of the car, and we follow people back towards the apple trees. My brother stays quiet, and I don’t try to talk to him, either. I knew the both of us were thinking about what had just happened.

When we reach the crowd of people, Lord Maxwell and Aunt Rowan call us over to them. “Baby blossoms! Come bake some apple pie with us!”

I ran over to them, hoping that the apple pies would make me feel better. Gabriel still walks slowly.

“Hey, Gabey,” Aunt Rowan says to him. “Everything okay?”

He shrugs. “They had a fight...”

“Who?” Lord Maxwell asks, putting down the knife he was using to cut apples.

“Mama and Daddyo,” I tell them.

“About what?”

Gabe shrugs again. “The doctor said that I have asthma, and then they started talking about... about Dad.”

“Aw,” Rowan says. She pulls Gabe into a hug.

“They’re both probably worried,” Maxwell wonders aloud. Him and Rowan give each other a look, but then we go back to making apple pie.

Lord Maxwell had forgotten to tell the judges that he wanted to be a part of the competition, so our pie was not judged, which meant that we got to eat the entire thing. Countess Hana and Lady Kiara’s pie won, and we cheered them on from the sidelines.

I didn’t see Daddyo for the rest of the day, and Lord Maxwell told us that he was probably really busy. I wanted to go find him and ask him to teach me how to ride a horse, but I was worried that he was still mad.

So instead, a little after sunset, Lord Maxwell brought me, Gabe, and Rowan to the stables and taught us about horses for a little bit. I learned how to sit and stay balanced, and was excited for the hunt tomorrow. I just hoped that Mama and Daddyo weren’t still mad at each other.

#the royal romance #choices trr #choices the royal romance #choices trr fanfic #king liam #king liam x mc #trr king liam x mc #trr king liam #liam x mc #trr liam x mc #trr fanfic #trr fandom #trr fanfiction #trh fanfic #trh fandom #trh liam #the royal romance fanfic #choices stories you play #the royal heir fanfic

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artificialqueens · 3 years ago

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Galactica, Chapter 74 (Group Fic) - TheDane/Veronica

A/N: Click here if you’re looking for previous chapters (or here if you’d rather read on AO3). 💫

Previously: Galactica shut down for the holidays, and Bianca turned Courtney’s shitty day around.

This Chapter: Christmas Eve. Fame plays hostess for Juju and Detox’s family, Bianca and Courtney jet off to Puerto Rico, Violet spends the evening with Sutan, Raja and Raven, and Pearl thirsts for Dahlia.

***

“Patrick?” Fame called over her shoulder, a big porcelain vase on the table in front of her.

“Yes darling?” Patrick was sitting in an armchair, his finger holding his place in the crime novel he was reading, Charles curled up on the floor in front of the crackling fireplace.

“What do you think of this?” Fame took a step back, showing off the greenhouse bouquet she had arranged, their gardener bringing them in after his rounds, snow covering the ground outside. “I was hoping they could be the centerpiece for tonight?”

They were upstate, in what Karl had jokingly started to call The Farm one summer. In reality, it was a mansion with several acres of land, the incredible garden the reason for the nickname, though Karl had insisted it was because upstate New York was basically Hicksville.

Fame and Patrick had bought it forever ago, the property supposed to be a real estate investment, but when they had visited it to oversee the remodel during the fall of the year they got it, Fame had fallen in love instantly.

She adored The Farm, loved the open land, loved the space that reminded her of her childhood’s free roam, loved that Charles had all the space in the world, the property so big that no one ever bothered them while they were there.

“I think that’s lovely dear,” Patrick smiled, taking a sip of the spiced eggnog the chef had made. “Juju’s going to love that.”

“Good.” Fame smiled, a moment of happiness washing over her body. Juju and Detox were coming up for Christmas, bringing their children along, the bedrooms already prepared for them.

When Detox and Juju had accepted her invitation to join them upstate, Fame had been overjoyed, spending the holiday with her friends instead of family so much more enjoyable, and best of all, it required absolutely no flying.

Unlike the Manhattan townhouse, The Farm was decorated in a traditional Christmas red and green, a fresh cut actual pine tree set up in the parlor, copious amounts of gifts for Kelly and the twins already under the tree.

“I’ll go check up on the chef.” Fame put down her garden shears, quickly drying her hands on her tea towel, collecting the scraps for the compost out back. “Make sure they’re cooking the Brussels sprouts correctly.”

The night's dinner was a wild lemon and honey salmon, a spinach salad with goat cheese and beets, the dessert spiced tea-poached pears for the adults and a sundae bar for the kids.

“And the mac and cheese?” Patrick raised an eyebrow.

“Of course,” Fame smiled. “I specifically instructed the chef to go for the mega size Kraft. The little ones should know it’s Christmas too.”

In reality, Fame had requested a complete restock of what Patrick lovingly called the kids cupboard, a whole section dedicated to the Sanderson kids, Kelly always going straight there the second she stepped foot inside. Just because she was a teenager who rarely attended family events anymore didn’t mean that Fame would forget about her.

“The sleds are ready to go too.”

Fame had never wanted kids of her own, but she loved and adored her entire chosen family, especially the little ones. Spoiling them had been one of her favorite pastimes since they’d met, when Kelly was still a chubby little baby with a passion for sticking jewelry into her mouth.

Today, she’d planned a lovely afternoon of fun in the snow for when everyone arrived. Fame had even bought a new snow set, the pure white Prada demanding to go home with her, her new mittens lined with rabbit fur so she could truly get down and dirty while building the snowman she hoped they had time for.

It was one of the most liberating things about The Farm, the acres of land meaning that there was a sense of privacy she could never feel in the city.

“And did you go for the wood?”

“Of course I went for the wooden sleds,” Fame rolled her eyes, Patrick so often playing stupid on purpose just to rile her up. “The antique German design.” There was no way Fame was going for anything but the best, and Julia and Owen deserved the best sledding experience money could buy, gourmet marshmallows and Jacques Torres hot chocolate already in the kitchen ready to go.

“Mmh?” Patrick smirked, taking another sip of his egg nog, and Fame went over to kiss him, just to wipe it off his face.

***

“Kelly Sanderson! Don’t you forget your scarf!”

“Yes mom,” Kelly rolled her eyes, but snatched her scarf, putting it around her neck before walking towards the house with her gym bag over her shoulder, and Juju couldn’t help but smile.

They were emptying out the car, the drive upstate a complete pain since she had been nauseous the entire time, Detox driving while Kelly was in the front seat, so Juju had been alone in the back with the twins because someone had to keep an eye on them, and Kelly refused.

“Okay champ,” Detox looked at his son who was still in the car, Julia standing on the snow-covered ground in her Frozen jacket. “I’m going to unbuckle you, but that doesn’t mean that you can-“

“Bye dad!!”

“Fuck!”

Juju laughed as Owen ran as fast as he could towards the front door, his sister right behind him.

“We got them!”

Juju turned to see Patrick call from the door, a big smile on the man's face, Fame right behind him.

“Your death wish!” Detox yelled, and Juju smiled before digging back in, her husband quickly gathering enough suitcases to make his first trip up to the house, Juju taking a moment to enjoy the blessed silence of private property upstate.

She fished her phone out of her handbag, a sense of relief washing over her when she saw that Bianca had texted. They had only spoken once last week, when Juju called her to apologize for the dinner party pile-on, and Bianca said it was okay, but she also seemed a bit rushed and distracted. Juju was hoping that it was just work, that she wasn’t genuinely mad, but she couldn’t be sure, especially since she hadn’t responded to any messages the night before. Looking at the messages today, though, it really did seem like they were good.

JUJU: Hey there. Thinking of you, hope you’re good.

JUJU: To be clear, I was thinking of you because I got up to take a very large dump.

JUJU: :-D

JUJU: Hehe

JUJU: <3

JUJU: OK goodnight! xo

JUJU: Merry Christmas Eve, lady! I love you.

BIANCA: Love you too, kiddo. Sorry for being MIA last night.

BIANCA: I’m taking Courtney to PR for Christmas, we’re heading to JFK right now.

BIANCA: Tell the monsters that I owe them some presents when I get back.

JUJU: Oh wow!! Have fun!!!! (And trust me, they will collect on those presents, lol)

She sighed, slipping the phone back into her bag, thinking that perhaps she should keep Bianca’s vacation plans under wraps for now. She turned towards the house, watching Fame on her knee, unlacing Julia’s shoes. Yes, better not to be the messenger for this particular news.

***

“So...is it everything you imagined?” Bianca asked, a wry grin on her face. She’d been a bit shocked when Courtney revealed in the car that she’d never flown first class before. She thought that surely someone as cute and charming as her had been slipped a free upgrade or two by a flight attendant trying to hit on her.

“It’s perfect.” Courtney tilted her champagne glass towards Bianca for a toast, her eyes taking on that slightly glazed, naughty look as she sipped on her third glass.

“Perfect, huh?” Bianca asked, clinking her glass lightly. “Then I guess you don’t want another present…”

“Wait, no...I do!” Courtney exclaimed, suddenly looking so serious that Bianca couldn’t hold back her cackling laughter.

Drunk Courtney was turning into one of her favorite people, the comically exaggerated faces she made when her defenses were down too cute for words.

“Oh, well in that case…” She reached into her bag and pulled out a box wrapped in sparkling pink and gold.

“How did you fit that in there?” Courtney asked, letting Bianca take her glass so that she had both hands free for the large gift, examining it closely. “Are you Mary Poppins?”

“Yeah, that’s me. A g-rated singing nanny.”

“Hot,” Courtney giggled, and Bianca gave her a stern look. “What, I like sexy nannies. Maria Von Trapp...Fran Fine?!”

“You’ve gotta be kidding me.” Bianca shook her head, amused.

“Oh no, am I being naughty? Are you gonna spank me?” Courtney’s eyes glittered.

Well, this was an unexpected turn. Perhaps something to explore when they weren’t flying thirty thousand feet over an ocean, surrounded by people.

“Open your present.”

“Yes, ma’am…” Courtney said, making Bianca laugh again as she tore into the package, first pulling off the excessive ribbons and bows (Joslyn really shouldn’t be trusted with that kind of thing) and then the glittery paper. She lifted the lid on the box, revealing 5 brand-new designer bathing suits, all from this year’s hottest resort collections. Her eyes lit up. “Ooooh, wow! This is much better than the plan I had.”

“What was your plan?”

“I was just gonna go without a suit,” she said, shrugging a bit as she fluttered her lashes.

“Huh.” Bianca’s brow furrowed in mock disappointment, adding, “Yeah, no, I like your plan better, give these back.”

She reached over and attempted to swipe the box from Courtney’s hand, but Courtney clutched it greedily to her chest.

“No! They’re mine now!”

Bianca laughed, leaning over to press a kiss to her cheek, just as Courtney grabbed her face and went right for her lips.

“Thank you, B. I love them. I love you.”

“I love you too, sunshine.” Bianca rested her forehead against Courtney’s with a happy sigh. “And I can’t wait to see you in them...or out of them.”

***

“Are you sure it’s okay that I’m not helping?” Violet asked. She was sitting on a silver bar stool and feeling absolutely useless, her fingers drumming on the marble breakfast bar.

Raja and Raven’s apartment looked like something from a catalog, big art pieces hung everywhere, fresh flowers in vases even though it was December. Violet had spotted the heavy oak Raja preferred, and the green and gold she gravitated towards, but it was clear that Raven was the main decorator.

“Of course,” Raven smiled, flashing her teeth over her shoulder. She was standing at the counter, filling up the sink so she could rinse off their dishes.

“Let her have the fantasy,” Sutan grinned, putting the empty tray he was carrying down, Raja right behind him. “This is the one time of year Raven pretends she’s the perfect housewife,”

“Fuck off.” Raven flipped him off, “I’m always perfect.”

When Sutan had told Violet he usually spent Christmas Eve with his sister and Raven, Violet hadn't been surprised. What had surprised her was when Sutan told her that Raven insisted on cooking every year. It had been a simple meal, roasted chicken and potatoes with gravy, but it did really seem like Raven had made it herself, Raja in charge of buying the dessert.

It was the first time Violet had celebrated Christmas Eve with anyone since she was 17, and while it was very different from what she usually did, which was wine and a movie, it was nice.

“You are, Princess,” Raja smiled, pressing a quick kiss against her hair as she dropped their dishes. “Now, does anyone want another drink?”

“Me,” Raven grinned, and Violet had to fight not to show the surprise on her face when Raven just grabbed the dirty dishes. She had never thought Raven would be someone who did chores, who’d willingly get her hands dirty.

“I’m driving tomorrow, so no,” Sutan was leaning against the counter, a smile on his lips. He was wearing a blue turtleneck sweater, and Violet had to admit that he looked stupidly hot in it.

“Actually…” Sutan paused, narrowing his eyes. “Raven, what’s going on with your nose?”

“Her nose?” Raja tilted her head, looking at her fiancée. “What do you mean?”

“It looks different. There.” Sutan pointed with his pinky at the edge of her nose.

“She seems normal to me.”

“Can’t you see it? Here, I’ll adjust- Let me push her head back.“ Sutan was just about to reach for Raven’s chin, when he was cut off.

“Hey!” Raven pulled away, “Crazy agent, I’m in the room.” She raised an eyebrow, her tone sharp, “I’m trying a new makeup technique.” Raven pushed Susn’s hand away from her face. “Is that a problem?”

“Of course not…”

“Good,” Raven rolled her eyes. “Now can we please get this done so we can watch a movie?”

“Sure.” Sutan rolled his eyes too, grabbing a dish towel before bumping his hip against Raven, making her yelp, laughter filling the room.

Violet let out a breath of relief she hadn’t even realized she had been holding, the knot in her stomach slowly releasing. She was probably overreacting, a childhood of tense Christmases just under her skin, but it had almost felt like Raven and Sutan were about to get in a fight.

Violet took her glass, a smile on her face as she took a sip of her wine, the uncomfortable feeling thankfully already fading.

***

Earlier, Courtney had enjoyed a healthy buzz from all the first class champagne, but then she fell asleep for half of the flight, and by the time they got to the resort, she felt refreshingly, deliciously sober, closing her eyes to feel the warm, fragrant ocean breeze blow in through the windows.

As Bianca directed the hotel staff with their suitcases, Courtney wandered over to the glass doors, eyes widening when she peered out at the terrace.

“B! Omigod, is this an infinity pool?” She threw open the doors and stepped outside, where a table was set up with a romantic, candlelit dinner. But even better, what was clearly a private infinity pool, which made her so excited she squealed with glee. “I’ve seen pictures of those but I never thought I’d see one in person!”

Bianca appeared in the doorway, a smirk on her face as she replied, “It’s not an infinity pool. It’s an infinity hot tub. The pool is down those steps.”

Courtney giggled, already slipping off her shoes to feel the heavenly warm water. She sat down at the edge of the hot tub, letting her legs dangle into the water while she gazed out at the gorgeous view, the gentle waves under a night sky sparkling with stars. When she mused last week about wanting to go to the beach, she certainly wasn’t imagining a private beach at this posh resort. But for once, everything in her life had worked out perfectly. All because of Bianca, who was now chatting with the hotel manager about their meal.

“Es esta la comida? Todo es vegano, verdad?”

“Si, of course. I hope everything is to your liking, Señora.”

“Es perfecto. Gracias.” She pressed some bills into his hand, adding, “Feliz Navidad!”

As soon as he left, Bianca turned back to Courtney, head tilting curiously when she took in her enraptured expression. “What?”

“I just think it’s sexy when you speak Spanish,” Courtney explained, biting her lip.

“Oh yeah? That’s what gets you going? My shitty high school Spanish?” Bianca asked, strolling towards her, dimples deep in her cheeks.

“Uh huh. I like the accent. Say more things…” Courtney leaned back, lashes fluttering, as Bianca laughed and pretended to think real hard.

“Hmm…” She settled in beside Courtney at the edge of the hot tub, slipping an arm around her waist and pressing a kiss to her shoulder. “Dónde está la biblioteca?”

“Ahh, yeah, that’s it,” Courtney growled, and Bianca laughed some more.

“Tu eres una gringa loca…”

“Uh huh…wait, what does that mean?”

“It means you’re a crazy white girl.”

“Oh. Yeah, fair.” Courtney cupped Bianca’s face in her hands, pulling her in for a kiss. Things were just starting to get a little heated when Courtney’s phone began to ring. She had a brief moment of panic before realizing that it was her personal phone, not her work phone. And since very few people made phone calls anymore, she was fairly certain that it would be her parents.

Coming out to her parents had been strange. She knew already, from how they reacted to Ben’s coming out when he was just 13, that they would be fine with her not being straight. But Ben hadn’t been dating someone nearly 20 years his senior.

So she was nervous, more than she’d have admitted, when she finally told them everything that was going on in her life--that she was dating, or rather in love with, a woman.

A woman who was, incidentally, a famous fashion magazine editor many years older than her.

Turned out, it was even more of an anticlimax than she anticipated, Mum giving her some bland platitudes about how love is love and Dad telling her to make sure she takes her vitamin D.

Which at first seemed like an innuendo, but actually was just him being his usual health-conscious self. Either way, they seemed both unsurprised and unbothered by the whole situation, which was a relief, she supposed. It was strangely reminiscent of when she was 16 and she’d announced that she wanted to graduate from high school early and go to America for University. Measured, unemotional support.

Courtney reached for her bag, pulling out the phone and answering, her family’s face popping up on the screen as she tried to figure out the time difference. It must already be Christmas morning in Brisbane.

“Hi, Mum! Happy Christmas!”

“Hello darling!” her mother cooed, elbowing Dad and Ben on either side of her, who she’d clearly forced into position, sitting on the sofa with the Christmas tree behind them, the picture of suburban bliss. “Happy Christmas!”

“Happy Christmas, love!” said Dad, pretending that he wasn’t thoroughly engrossed in whatever crime novel Courtney could see open on his lap.

Mum poked Ben again with her sharp elbow, and he scoffed.

“Yeah, yeah. Happy Christmas. How’s your rich girlfriend?” Ben asked.

“Great. How’s single life?” Courtney shot back, and Ben opened his mouth in mock offense.

“You fuckin’ cunt-”

“What was that, dickhead-”

“Kids!” Mum interrupted, putting on her best scolding voice as Courtney and Ben both broke out into giggles.

“She knows I’m kidding, Mum. Calm down.”

“I’m perfectly calm,” Mum said, rolling her eyes. “I’m just trying to have a pleasant conversation with my daughter, thanks very much.”

“Thanks Mum,” Courtney said, kicking her feet in the warm water. “It’s fine, though. It wouldn’t be Ben if he wasn’t giving me shit.”

“That’s called love, ya slag! Appreciate it!” Ben cut in, and Courtney blew him a kiss.

“Well darling, we just want you to know that we miss you terribly, but we’re so happy that you’re having a nice vacation. Right?”

“So happy,” Ben echoed, sticking out his tongue.

“And we’ve been talking about it, and-” she patted Dad on the thigh, then hit him harder when he didn’t say anything.

“Oh, yes. Ahem. We’ve been talking about planning a trip to New York next year,” Dad said. “How does that sound?”

“That sounds fantastic!” Courtney exclaimed. She hadn’t seen any of them since a quick trip to Australia last spring, before she moved to New York.

Bianca sat down beside her again, silently handing over a glass filled with ice and some kind of milky liquid along with a sexy wink, just out of camera range.

“Guys, check out the view!” While her family exclaimed over how beautiful it was, Courtney took a small sip of the drink, eyes widening with delight. “Omigod, this is like Bailey’s but better. Cheers!”

“Cheers,” Bianca murmured back.

“Hi, Bianca!” Mum called loudly. “Thank you for the wine!”

Apparently, Bianca had sent a whole case of high-end wine to her family home--and even signed both of their names on the card, although her family knew for damn sure that wasn’t something Courtney could afford.

“Um...hi. You’re welcome,” Bianca grinned, giving a quick, friendly wave and then leaning back out of frame, tilting her head towards the table with their food. Courtney nodded, reaching over to squeeze her thigh.

“Mum, thanks for calling. But we should go, we have dinner here and it’s getting cold.”

“Alright my love,” Mum said, smiling warmly. “Have a wonderful night. So long, Bianca!”

“Bye, Mrs. Jenek. Merry Christmas,” Bianca said, and Courtney giggled behind her hand.

“Mrs. Jenek…” she snickered, and Bianca grimaced, then put a hand on her hip.

“Well...shut up, I’m from the South. That’s just what we do.”

“You could at least say ‘doctor.’ She has a Ph.D.”

Bianca facepalmed, and Courtney laughed again, kissing her on the cheek. It was adorable how much she cared about making a good impression on Courtney’s family. “I’m just kidding, she doesn’t care about that stuff.”

“I care, though.”

“I know.” Courtney nuzzled into Bianca’s face. “And I love you for it.”

***

“Hey! I saw that!” Trixie gasped, pointing at Kim, who had just skipped a square on the Monopoly board.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Kim smirked, leaving her car piece as she took another cookie.

They were all gathered around the coffee table, mugs of hot cocoa and Katya’s Christmas cookies on plates, a crackling fire playing on the TV, music playing from the speakers.

“You’re cheating,” Trixie looked around. “Say something!”

“I didn’t see anything, sugar butt,” Katya smiled, her knitting needles in hand. She was weirdly good at Monopoly, Katya dominating the majority of the board. When Trixie had asked her how, and what her strategy was, Katya had simply grinned and told him it was simply how it was done in Soviet Russia.

“Pearl, what about you?”

“What?” Pearl looked up from her phone. “Oh. Sorry. No.”

“Who are you texting?”

Pearl smiled. “No one.”

“Not again,” Trixie groaned, not even interested in whatever girl had managed to capture his best friend’s attention for more than two seconds. “Pearl please. It’s Christmas.”

“Relax Trix,” Pearl grinned, leaning over so she could press a kiss against his cheek. “You’re the only one for me.”

***

PEARL: Was just thinking about you...so I thought I’d say hey ;)

DAHLIA: Oh yeah?

PEARL: Uh huh

DAHLIA: What were you thinking about?

PEARL: Mostly I was hoping to be suffocated by your thighs real soon.

PEARL: Your thighs are the stuff of dreams

DAHLIA: Right now, my thighs are stuck to the plastic cover on my grandma’s couch...but thanks.

PEARL: Hot

DAHLIA: Lol

PEARL: Can I tempt you to sneak away at some point in the next few days? Without pissing off the fam, of course

DAHLIA: Possibly...I have like 40 cousins, so no one would even notice I’d gone

PEARL: Fan fucking tastic

PEARL: Hey guess what?

DAHLIA: You’re horny and wanna fuck?

PEARL: Yes

DAHLIA: Patience, darling

PEARL: But also...it’s midnight. Merry Christmas.

DAHLIA: Shit, I missed mass again!

DAHLIA: For the 7th year in a row!

PEARL: Hahaha

PEARL: Oh god. My roommates are singing happy birthday to Jesus.

PEARL: With a fucking cake and candles

DAHLIA: LOL, HBDJ

***

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missmillyashford · 4 years ago

Text

Eight Hundred Eyes Are Better Than One - Reaction

I should have done this a long time ago but I just reread this chapter and reacted to it as I went if you’re interested @anbu-legacy

Because I’ve had a grudge against canon Jiraiya for so long it’s been an interesting but slow process of adjusting to this (better) version of him where his awful traits either don’t exist or are slightly more subdued, and traits I could actually appreciate are more emphasized. And saying that, I love this image of this giant, flamboyant man being so unsubtle about his summons that he just wakes up not just Kakashi but his entire FLOOR. Nice one. This man is a spy theoretically and I love that juxtaposition. At least it makes it easy to let Ryouma know they’re leaving.

“Dodomeki?” he said quietly.

Boyfriends, Kakashi reflected, were supposed to be reassuring. “I’ll bring you an eyeball,” he promised.

“Gross.”

This reminds me of that time Kakashi found a weird creepy bug in that one cave during the kiri mission and instead of leaving it be like a normal person he decides to pick it up and bring it all the way back to the team to scare Ryouma with it. I always find it super funny when Kakashi pulls stuff like this, terrorizing his poor teammates with gross unwanted show and tell. I personally would love a gift like that, though. I am totally someone who would probably keep particularly interesting animal body parts preserved in a jar somewhere in my house because I find anatomy and physiology interesting. I once had the opportunity in one of my university classes to hold a horse’s brain and was quite enthralled. I just wanted a good look at it and was really curious what it would feel like.

“Just bring yourself home safe.”

“Always do,” Kakashi said, which was mostly true. “Captain, too.”

I’m reacting to this on a reread so hahaaaaaaa. Nice one, Kakashi. Your poor hands.

I would say I can’t believe that Kakashi actually WENT INTO THE ROOM to wake up Raidou and Genma, but this is Kakashi, so I can. He could have just knocked on the bedroom window, or just gone to the door, like a person with basic social skills and a modicum of decency. Kids these days. No respect for the general concept of privacy. Sheesh. Boundaries. I’m glad I’m not them. I will admit that I laughed though.

Raidou jerked, sat up wildly, and blurted, “What the hell?”

“Taichou,” Kakashi said, with a little wave.

Genma exhaled, tweaked the sheet so that it covered Kurenai more fully, then sat up — a much smoother operation. “Hatake,” he said tightly, visibly trying for calm.

“Lieutenant,” Kakashi said. And, for good measure: “Yuuhi. Well done.”

Asdfghgfds. This bastard. I love and hate him. DK is always so good at this sort of humour with Kakashi and it never fails to get me.

I feel bad for Genma and Raidou and Kurenai right now though because they didn’t even get to TALK properly the next day after getting together before Raidou had to leave.

Kakashi felt his spine stiffen. Reflexive, pointless defense of his parents, who had raised him on legends and myths, told in the few quiet moments between everything else.

I really love the callback to Don’t Fear the Dark. It’s really interesting when we get little glimpses at what Sakumo was like, and what his family was like before it fell apart. The defensiveness about it has my heart hurting, because it’s one of the few tiny pieces he still has of his father. Speaking of Sakumo, mythology/legends, and Don’t Fear the Dark, I remember that there were traditional masks of demons and things in their home. For a very long time I’ve been very curious to see what the Hatake estate looks like, and what other personal items from Sakumo and their life before are still there. Here’s to hoping we’ll get to see it one day?

I like how these legends have been woven into the worldbuilding too.

Usagi thumped him on the shoulder. “Better dodge, then. We’ll bring some of her scrapings back in a jar for the lab.”

Genma would probably appreciate some jar-scrapings, though.

Genma’s my type of person. I appreciate him.

I’m really enjoying getting to know a little more about the relationship dynamics of the members of team thirteen. Ginta and Usagi’s relationship is so fun.

I love Goya purely on the basis that she’s a badass archer lady with wicked aim and I feel like that’s understandable and valid.

While Raidou and Usagi bartered for shelter, and Jiraiya signed autographs for the goat herder’s starstruck daughter, Kakashi watched a handful of goat kids bounce back and forth over a fence with blithe disregard for its actual purpose.

The goats hopping over the fence makes such a great image. I adore Tarama the goat village, purely because of the goats. And the Katsuko callback.

I am weak to the characters being dumb reckless idiots experimenting with jutsu for science so I was LIVING for the thunderstorm Ginta-Kakashi shenanigans. I’ve also always loved thunderstorms so I might be extra weak to lightning users. Just casually detonating each other’s jutsu and hoping they don’t explode each other irreparably in the process. Good fun.

Actually getting so see Kakashi split lightning was so cool. We keep hearing about it in canon and legacy so to finally see it is so satisfying. I like the description of sharingan vision as “he tracked the bolt zig-zagging down as if it were made of syrup, oozing through superheated air, long, lethal fingers branching out towards them.” And I also particularly liked this line:

The lightning snapped towards him like a massive, elemental predator scenting blood.

I am very amused:

In the dizzying aftermath, Kakashi had just enough time to think ow and awesome before the next strike threatened, and they both ran like hell for the village.

Usagi’s childish glee is so great. And yeah, I feel both her reaction AND Raidou’s are pretty appropriate. But still, lol:

“When did you turn three hundred? Your rookie just did the coolest thing ever. Stop being miserable about it.”

“You want him?” Raidou said.

“Yes,” said Usagi instantly. “Hatake, you’re mine, get over here.”

“Wait, no,” Raidou said.

I’m glad Kakashi is being appreciated.

The conversation Raidou and Kakashi had about KureGenRai hook up was veeeeery interesting. I wasn’t expecting Kakashi to react so harshly. I guess it is hypocritical of Raidou to say what he said then do that, though Raidou has a point that it’s to protect rookies from senior officers. Lieutenants and Captains are different since they’re closer in rank. I’m guessing that Kakashi is kind of frustrated with how he and Ryouma have felt like they’ve had to keep their relationship secret for fear of getting in trouble, even if same rank liaisons are technically not against the rules, unwritten or otherwise. Because of Raidou’s whole boundaries thing and general testiness about that kind of thing?

I’m curious to see how keeping it a secret from Ryouma will go. How long will they even want to keep it from him, and if they do want to keep the secret how will Ryouma feel about both the relationship and Kakashi’s secret keeping once he finds out?

Another thing I’ll be curious to see is if this at all changes if Kakashi wants to keep his relationship with Ryouma secret still, and if so from who. I’d doubt it would since there are other factors but still. I am looking forward for when people find out, but at the same time I’ve been enjoying it being private. I think a temporary shared secret like this can feel kinda intimate so long as it doesn’t overstay its welcome. And we get scenes like Kakashi panicking and hiding in Ryouma’s bathroom while Ryouma clumsily lies and implies he may have hooked up with an Uchiha to evade arrest so that’s a bonus. I think being able to have their own relationship exist in isolation from judgements and comments from the outside allows them to take some pressure off their relationship, and gives them time to figure each other out and how to just be together unhindered. I can see why they’re doing this the way they are.

A mass grave. Whoever had dug it — Kusa ninja, most likely — had missed the small body on the hill.

“Poor bastards,” Usagi said quietly.

Kasumi, of all people, went back for the body.

I like this detail about Kasumi.

“Now we track,” Jiraiya said. He gave a little wave in Kakashi’s direction. “Do the nose thing.”

Some days, Kakashi didn’t feel entirely respected in his workplace.

Loooool

It took two more days to even get close to the Dodomeki. For Kakashi, it was like living in dual headspaces — the clean, sleek arrowhead mind of a predator, and the disordered tangle of everything human. Team Thirteen, with their… themness. Jiraiya — firmly, unignorably himself. The discomfort of Raidou and the unhappy friction between them. No Genma to smooth down the rough edges. No Ryouma to distract with chatter or an unexpected, brilliant idea.

I really liked this section for a couple reasons:

1) I like how when certain members of the team are absent it highlights just how important they are to the entire team. Genma the vital lynchpin and mediator; Ryouma the emotional heart, friend, and innovator. I also appreciate that it’s not just their skillsets that are addressed either. They’re valuable for things like their kindness, level-headedness, and company.

2) I love the acknowledgment of duality of Kakashi’s headspace and social interactions. The headspace required to do his job as a tracker vs. working as part of a team of antsy, ridiculous people are very different. The interactions he is going to be having with the wolfdogs that don’t even so much as speak human vs. his human coworkers are going to be very different too. Kakashi having an entirely different headspace with the dogs to the point he actually separates it from being entirely human (like referring to “humans” as if it were a group he isn’t entirely part of) reminds me of all the way back to the thread Lost in the Dark when Raidou sees Kakashi speaking to the entire pack for the first time. He realizes Kakashi’s social skills have likely been influenced by his exposure to the dogs he grew up with. It was such an interesting revelation to me. This is the part I mean if you’re curious:

What followed was one of the strangest conversations Raidou had ever witnessed. Kakashi, with his economy of speech and movement that seemed so disjointed in human interaction, slotted into place as naturally as breathing. Raidou recognized that questioning head tilt echoed back by listening dogs; the silent, watchful glances that lingered a second beyond comfortable; the predatory edge polished like a fine weapon. Here, Kakashi’s hair and mask just looked like markings, no more notable than that shepherd’s black-tipped ears, or that hound’s white-ticked coat.

It explained a lot.

I really liked seeing Raidou defend Kakashi from Kasumi’s crochety and unjustified remarks. Progress!!! I’m proud.

I’ve probably said it before and I’ll probably say it again, but I always love your dialogue. There’s so much personality and liveliness in it. The banter is so entertaining. Usagi and Ginta especially right now.

I know the mythology the Dodomeki comes from is very different, but there is something about the descriptions of her that make me think a lot of what I felt watching the Netflix the Witcher series. Which might not mean anything to you if you haven’t seen it. Similarly horrifying and deadly and gross. It’s great.

The entire fight scene had my heart pounding. It was so intense and fast-paced. So many close calls and how fast she was was so terrifying. We just saw Kakashi with his sharingan so fast he was able to split a lightning strike in half, yet she’s so fast he can’t even hope to keep up. Fuck.

Abe had to chase him nervously around, attending to whatever bits of Jiraiya’s face he could reach, until the medic finally lost his temper and ordered Jiraiya to sit.

I loved this.

I don’t have anything interesting to say about them theorizing about her sickly state, but I am very intrigued. I also love when little bits of real life actual science are incorporated in fantasy like this (ex. the mention of ketosis).

I am still very very worried for Kakashi’s hands. I suspect he won’t get out of this entirely unscathed even after treatment.

#anbu legacy

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captainjimothycarter · 4 years ago

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A very unfortunate Marvel comic states that where Steve is, the Avengers will form. So even when he was trapped in 1587, the Avengers sort of came to being. they just appear. So Steve, 1940s time travel, changing the timeline, and the realization that the Avengers are just sort of coming into being. Natasha with the comics origin of a 1920s birth, WWII fighter, Clint the runaway carny kid, Maximoff twins the children of holocaust victims etc. Steve changes the world, and they still stay.

I fail to see how that’s an unfortunate comic because I am in love with that idea? Steve is like hopping through time because he wants privacy. He gets maybe a day before POOF there’s Tony whose naked and clearly was in a shower beside him and just as confused. It just becomes a ridiculous thing then. But let’s go with this idea that Steve doesn’t know this? This is gonna be butchered and my own interpretations and I am so sorry OP.

Steve went back to 1946. Shortly after the events of S2 where Peggy went back to the SSR in Brooklyn.

The question of time travel had come up quite a few times when the dust had settled. Steve couldn’t tell you how many hours he spent discussing things with Bruce. Maybe the man had known what Steve would do, but he didn’t exactly say anything when they’d embraced and the man held on for a fraction of a second too long.

There was no explanation for this, then. Well, there was. Peggy had told Steve he was a carer, nurturer and it stemmed from the fact of growing up sick and wanting to do more. Even when he wanted to rest, he had to do something. Even when Steve was playing her househusband, he was doing something. Even when Steve pulled the mask back on for a mission here under her insistence, he was changing some events in time. In their timeline, that is. [Not that Peggy understood much of this time travel business.]

That being said, she had to admit this was quite off. She knew the name of Steve’s team. Of his family, his friends. Tony, who was Howard’s son [something she struggled to wrap her head around.] Clint, a guy who grew up in the circus and fought with a bow and arrow? Natasha, a product of the red room and being kidnapped. [She knew about that and with Steve’s help, had already started to get involved with searching.] Then there was Bruce? A man who was part...monster and part human? Thor, who was a God.

Not that Peggy didn’t believe Steve, it was just...hard to think of all this insane stuff so many years in the future, but that was Steve. Her Steve, coming home with an insane story she had no choice but to believe.

And the evidence was right before her.

Before both of them. Natasha Romanoff. The name had crossed Peggy’s desk in some small memo, something she almost overlooked. The second she’d read it, she called Steve to come to her office, damn the SSR, and what they thought.

Steve was there, shield and all despite how he insisted he was putting it down, but he was ready to fight. Rather than was Jack or Kirby or a Hydra bastard who won’t go down.

Side eyeing the few agents just staring at him, Steve frowned at the paper that Peggy pushed towards him. He read the sentence. A document, a birth certificate that had been recovered from what they thought used to be an old Red Room facility.

The question was, were they meant to find it, or was it placed there on purpose?

Regardless -

“I’m going,” Steve told her, sitting down heavily, the chair creaking as he stared at the name on the paper, unblinking. Natasha’s last words echoed in his head. He could do it. He could give her a better life.

“Go where exactly, Steve? The SSR has accommodated the building. There’s nothing left.” Peggy was trying to be understanding of a situation she didn’t quite understand, but she also knew her Steve. He had that look that told her he wasn’t going to listen to reason.

“I know them too. I know her. I have to try something. See something the agents won’t,” he insisted, rubbing at his temples. “Bucky, then Natasha. The Maximoff twins...” He muttered off a series of names Peggy didn’t fully understand either.

“Okay, I’m going too.” Steve wouldn’t have it any other way.

There was something. Natasha. The familiar redhead curled under a floorboard, skin, and bones, and sickly. So sickly, it made a childhood Steve look healthy. She’d heard the SSR coming and hid under the floorboards. The agents, the idiots had missed everything. Peggy quietly chewed them out while Steve and Bucky had pulled Natasha out and got her warm and boarding the plane. Least the agents had something to look sheepish about.

“She has no family,” Steve said, looking at the sleeping Natasha in the hospital bed. “Her parents were killed. If we put her in the system, they’ll find her. She has things to unlearn.”

Peggy stood beside him, holding his hand and let Steve speak. “I’m aware. I read the reports. I’ve dealt with them before.” She paused and squeezed his hand. “We’ll take her in. We have no other choice.”

That’s how Natasha came back into Steve’s life, from a scared child who refused to sleep or eat without orders, to a happy, bouncing kid within a few months time.

It was Peggy’s turn to wake her fiance up at 2 in the morning, whispering in his ear as she settled on the bed.

Steve had rolled over, frowning. Peggy was still dressed for work. She’d just gotten home. She looked exhausted. No, it looked like she’d been crying.

“Pegs? What’s wrong? Darling.” He sat up and turned the light on, bundling Peggy into his arms. Seeing one of the strongest people in his life breakdown like this just practically broke his heart.

Peggy held him close, a reminder that Steve was alive, he was here, he was hers. She couldn’t risk affording to fall apart. “I got a call from Dugan right before I was leaving...” She told him about the call. How Dugan told her about their recent patrols had lead to finding kid’s footprints everywhere. How it took them weeks to find the kids. Kids, Pegs. Kids! Kids with weird powers. Speed and...telekinesis. They called themselves Wanda and Pietro.

She recognized the name almost at once, whispering their surname because Steve had told her so much. They were victims of being in a camp and forgotten about when everyone got out. The system missed them because they were kids. They’d been barely surviving these last year or so on their own. The Howling Commandos were flying in now.

There was no question about it. They were taking them in. They were going to raise them with Natasha. They were going to do the right thing, even if it was hard.

They’d have to move, get a bigger place. And if Steve thought what was happening was going to happen, they’d damn well need a farm.

Maybe he could get Peggy a fuzzy cow. She always laughed at those...

It was unnerving to watch the people you once considered family sitting across you as kids, calling you dad. Dad. He liked that name. The sediment warmed his heart. Bucky had to move in just to help with the kids: Wanda, Pietro, and Natasha. Peggy was busy full time at Shield and Steve always was there for her and how busy she was.

They did wound up moving to a good section of land in the country side. It was a bit longer trip to the city, but it fit their lifestyle. It was perfect.

Until Howard barged into their home, one Sunday morning, Peggy was sitting on the counter, watching Steve cook breakfast and nursing her coffee in the early slumbering morning. The kids had yet to get up yet.

“Jesus Christ,” Peggy cursed, nearly dropping her coffee when her best friend barged in, a wild look in his eyes. He looked frantic, in tears. “Howard, what’s wrong? Are you okay? Where’s Jarvis?”

She sat the man down and kneeled before him, Steve putting the omlettes aside to kneel on Howard’s other side.

The man opened and closed his mouth several times before he could speak. “I have a son.”

Steve’s eyes widened, sharing a look with Peggy. No. Tony wasn’t supposed to be born for – god a damn good while. But far as he knew Tony was Howard’s only child.

“You have a son?” Peggy whispered, running her hand through Howard’s thick hair to keep him calm. “How did you find out? Did she call?”

Howard’s head shook. “No. I-I-I...She dropped him off this morning with a note. Said she didn’t want to be a mother. I left him with Jarvis. I-I didn’t know what else to do. I-I don’t know what to do.”

“I think you know what you need to do,” Steve said gentle as possible, clapping his friend on the shoulder. Howard’s cheeks burned a bright pink. “You need to step up. You can’t let Jarvis care for this kid. We’ll help you. What’s his name?”

“Tony.”

Steve stilled, feeling Peggy’s eyes on him. Impossible. The Avengers were slowly forming together.

Two years.

That’s how long it took for the circus to come into town, something Steve had been waiting for, in the back of his mind. In those two years, he’d started home schooling the kids with Bucky’s help. They’d built a beautiful farm with two fluffy cows, a herd of goats under Bucky’s insistence, and a large garden that Steve shared with the neighborhood.

When he’d first saw the flyer and a flash of blonde and ginger hair running through town putting them up, Steve had his suspicions. It wasn’t until he snuck into the camp sight that he saw them. Sure enough there were the Barton Brothers. They were practically kids. He’d never met Barney beforehand, but he knew how important Barney was to Clint, even if he insisted they were bad for each other.

“So what are you going to do?” Peggy asked, sipping on a red wine when Steve told her about who he saw. “We can’t leave them there obviously. Not when it’s gonna end bad for them.”

Steve paused and considered it, sharing a look with Bucky who shrugged. He watched Natasha trade a card with Wanda, listening to Pietro pouting about losing at poker. Damn Howard for teaching them. Speaking of – Howard was somewhere in their house putting a baby Tony to bed. The man had stayed far too late again.

“I’m gonna kidnap them.”

All Peggy could do was smirk at Steve. She expected nothing less than the dramatics.

Turns out, kidnapping the Barton brothers were easier said than done. There was fights, scuffing. Steve wounded up with a broken nose from Barney’s elbow and Peggy had bite marks on her wrist from Clint. And the kids learned a new series of curse words.

It wasn’t until Clint saw it was Captain America saving him, did he comply. Because the circus life sucked, but they were better off anywhere than here.

“I told you he’d save us!” Clint told Barney smugly as they sat in the back of the car. Peggy and Steve’s smile were hidden in the dark as they drove without their lights on.

“Gotta say...I didn’t think it happen. You’re still wrong. He didn’t save us. You agreed to go with him.” Barney pointed out and Clint huffed.

“You can just get out. I’m staying with them.”

“And let you have all the fun? No way.”

Legally, on paper, Howard and Peggy had worked so that it said that they were the adopted parents of the Maximoff Twins, Natasha, and now the Barton Brothers. A full house on a chaotic day. Unofficially, they were Tony’s godparents under the Jarvis’ of course.

Steve was still trying to figure this out as the years melted by and his and Peggy’s work as Director [unoffical for Steve], piled on. The Avengers were together, to a point. They were coming to him. They were finding him. He got to make due with his promise of giving them a better life.

Even if it was an insane life.

The last he expected was to literally run into Bruce.

That is to say a toddler Bruce Banner who had a series of bruises that looked like a handprint on his sides and wearing only a diaper.

“What the hell?” Steve breathed, kneeling down to pick up Bruce. He couldn’t explain how, but he knew that this was Bruce Banner. Maybe it was the eyes. It was late at night, Peggy had gone home an hour ago. He’d told her he needed to finish up some report for Phillips, then he’d be home.

“Where did you come from, hm?” Steve asked the crying toddler, rubbing over his back and rocking him side to side. He wrapped the toddler in his jacket and cradled him, frowning as he came down to the labs to find a man passed out, a bottle in hand. He could smell the alcohol from here. Hearing Bruce’s whimper from under his jacket told Steve all he needed to know.

Peggy wasn’t fond of being woken up at 2 in the morning but for this, she’d give it an excuse. Howard and her met Steve at HQ, where he sat locked in her office, bouncing the sleepy Bruce. She met Steve with clothes and a bottle for Bruce, courtesy of Howard. Howard had gone straight to the labs to ‘discuss’ things with their newest scientist.

“I found her,” Peggy mused, flipping a page over to show Steve. “That’s his wife. This little one’s mother.” Her tone said all. And Steve’s heart clenched. His mother had been in the same situation.

“Pegs, its...Bruce.” Was all he whispered as the toddler guzzled the bottle down, like it was his last meal and knowing his situation, God knows when he’d eaten last.

“Your...friend? The...?” She eyed Bruce, skeptical.

“Not now, but later he will be. Or would be. There’s an accident, attempting to recreate my serum but I-I won’t...allow it. We can’t allow him to go back. The systems messed up...”

Peggy just wore a fond smile, kissing her husband on the lips. “What’s one more, Steven? He needs our help and we’re not going to let him go into a system that will hurt him. Well, come here, Brucey.”

There was one more.

Just one more and Steve was on edge. Thor. How would he show up? How would they come together?

Wanda and Pietro had been growing in their powers and gotten ahold of them. Natasha's skills from the Red Room had proved useful in many situations but she never used them for selfish needs. Clint and Barney were as siblings went, bickering, but a new love for each other was there and appreciation. Their relationship forever changed. Plus, Clint’s obvious crush on Natasha was adorable. Bruce and Tony took to one another like fish to water. Tony was obsessed with his new friend and wanted to show him everything. Often, they’d find the pair curled up in the farm house, amongst the hay, asleep.

Howard, as Steve had seen was an amazing parent. Steve had made sure of it. He wasn’t going to abuse this Tony and ruin him. Howard had even given up alcohol. Not only given it up, but Stark Industries focused on the enviornment, not selling weapons. Steve was sure Peggy had nothing to do with that.

They were all together, another family, but in a new sense. Just the question was...where was Thor?

The avengers was incomplete without him.

The answer came one winter night. There was a storm outside, thunder and lightenign clashing across the sky. There was something odd about it. That made Steve’s hair stand on end. He’d sent the kids to bed early, his tone telling them not to question him. He refused to move away from the window, holding a coffee mug and staring at the flashing clouds.

“Is that him?” Peggy asked, layin a hand on the small of his back, rubbing in small circles. “Is his arrival always so...much?”

Steve laughed, unable to help himself. “You have no idea.” He kissed her head, stroking her newly graying hair away from her face. “And yes. That’s him. I’m sure of it. We just don’t know...how he will -”

Steve’s answer came with a lightning strike that blew out the side of the barn. Bright lightning filled the sky and he had to cover his eyes, cursing. Grabbing at his shield, he ran out to the smoldering barn, trying not to think about how he just finished painting it.

Peggy was right behind him, her nightgown fluttering in the wind. She gasped at the...teenager passed out amongst the burning hay. Clearly, something different about him was a god. The hammer that he so carried laid beside him. Steve tensed before picking it up, feeling a shiver run down his spine at the power pulsing through him.

“Here,” he whispered to Peggy without thinking, passing it to him. “Don’t let the kids find that or Shield. We have to keep this under wraps. We don’t know how he’ll be.”

Not hearing Peggy speak, he turned around to see Peggy holding the manner with a confused look, it only grew at Steve’s bright smile as he hoisted the God in his arms.

“What? It’s just a hammer.”

“No, no darling it’s far from just a hammer. Only those worthy can hold it. I knew it.”

Peggy wanted to be annoyed at Steve for not telling her but instead, she laughed.

Steve can’t say he was surprised when a familiar figure appeared in his bedroom where Thor laid asleep. He’d just stepped out to check on the kids and Peggy [who was now asleep on the pull out couch], stopping to grab a wet cloth to dab at Thor’s skin.

“Frigga.” He whispered, pausing at the sight of her. She smiled, as if greeting a friend before hugging him tightly as one would.

“My Captain,” she breathed, cupping his face as they pulled away. “Do not look surprise. Of course, I remember you and know what you have done and will be and what you are doing now.” That didn’t surprise Steve, the blonde just shaking his head. “Thank you for looking after my son. We are...unsure of what happened, not quite yet.”

She sat on the bed and held Thor’s hand, Steve sitting beside the bed. He looked up to see a sleepy Peggy in the doorway. Standing up, he brought her inside and sat her down. “Peggy, this is Frigga. Thor’s mother.”

“I’m starting to wonder if I’m not the one that was frozen and this is all an illusion,” she murmured, still accepting the hug from Frigga.

“The great Carter. You are as great as a warrior as time as whispered about. Lady Sif has spoken of great things about you and how she was with you during the War.” At their confusion, Frigga did not elaborate. “Can I ask a favor of you Great Carter and Captain Rogers? There is...There are situations going place in Asgard. Situations I do not need my son getting involved in. He will be safe here, on Midgard for some time. He will have access to his powers, to his divinity, but he will be safe. Heimdall will watch him. But I do wish for him to be under your eye. You will protect him and he can learn lots from you.”

How could they say no to her? That was...a sin, if you asked Steve. How could he say no? Thor needed their help. They were going to help.

No matter what it took.

“Of course,” Peggy whispered. “He’ll be safe here.”

They were together. The Avengers. Their makeshift family was together and growing, and changing time. The circumstances were different, but Steve promised himself he’d give them a good life. He just didn’t think it be like this.

Where he was their parental figure, where he was with Peggy, the love of his life, owning a farm, helping Peggy with SHIELD, helping raise a family.

They were together. The Avengers would have the life each one deserved that didn’t mean a life of harship and recovery.

#Steggy #Post Endgame AU #Found Family aspect #just Steve is their father #This is like 3k #Wt #Wtf #I love it #I hope its what you wanted #Steve is a father #Peggy is a mother #Adopted Avengers

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professorspork · 5 years ago

Note

fic prompt + daily queenly duties

Well, this one definitely got away from me a little bit…

—-

The day starts at dawn. Not with an alarm, but nevertheless, like clockwork–

“Ouch! Ah, jeez–”

Kristoff opens an eye to watch Anna hop around on one foot, holding her stubbed toe in both hands as she inhales sharply and tries to keep from crying out any further.

“Did you kick the chair again?”

Realizing she has an audience, Anna puts her foot down and attempts to look regal and put-together. It’s a losing battle; her hair is all over the place and there’s still a bit of drool on her chin. It’s adorable.

“…No? Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“I keep telling you to move it.”

She shakes her head. He watches as she brushes out her tangles and ties her hair in a bun–as his wife fades to the background and the queen emerges in her stead. “If I move it Olaf can’t climb up to read us a bedtime story, and you know how much he loves that. It’s too heavy for him to move by himself.”

“We could always move it after he’s done.”

“Well then I’m comfy and I don’t want to leave bed.”

“I could move it.”

She smiles at him, winsome. “The bed’s comfy because you’re in it.”

He sees his chance and gives it his best shot–lifts up the covers to show his bare chest; the inviting spot on her side of the bed she’s just vacated. “I’m still in it now, y'know.”

Her nose scrunches as her face can’t decide whether to be playfully disapproving or to flirt right back. “You’re a terrible influence, Kristoff Bjorgman.”

“Yes, but I’m your terrible influence.”

Unable to suppress her grin at him any longer, she leans over the aforementioned chair just long enough to peck him on the lips, then disappears behind her privacy screen to change.

“What’s on the docket today?” he asks. On the other side of the divider, the vague outline of her silhouette disappears under layers of fabric.

“Oh, um. Open petitions this morning, and then a sit-down with the Stonecutter’s Guild. I guess some of the young apprentices are freaked out ever since meeting the Earth Giants because they’re worried all rocks have feelings? Which: they might, honestly. I’m going to have to ask Elsa–remind me to send her a note before breakfast, okay? Oh, and then tonight is the solstice pageant.”

“Can’t forget that.”

“Don’t be mean!”

“I’m not,” he laughs. “I’m genuinely looking forward to it.”

Queen Anna emerges from the other side of the wardrobe. “Well, good. Alright, I’ve got to check in with the castle staff and get my day going. I’ll see you downstairs?”

“Of course.”

Only she doesn’t, because by the time he actually makes it to the dining room he learns she’s long gone–she’s skipped breakfast to go deal with some issue at the fjord, two ships double-booked for the same dock and each refusing to yield to the other.

Sounds about par for the course.

Shaking his head, he wanders down to the kitchens for a sandwich or two, scribbles out a note for Elsa, and heads out to the dell where Gale likes to gambol and play most mornings. Anna’s better at finding Gale than Kristoff is; more than once he’s caught her laughing at him for talking to a stiff breeze that was simply that, and nothing more. It takes up more of his morning than he’d like, but eventually he feels the telltale tickle under his chin that he’s in the presence of the wind spirit.

“Hey. I know Elsa’s coming down tonight, but Anna’s got a question that can’t wait until then. Do you mind?”

Gale blows his hat right off his head, which he takes to mean don’t be silly. Or possibly how dare you, I’m very insulted, but hopefully not. Like he said: he’s not as good at this as Anna.

“Thanks,” he says, and he opens his palm to let the gusts carry his note away. He watches until it’s disappeared past the treeline, just in case.

He heads back to the castle, arriving just as the sun hits its zenith. Anna hates these short winter days, he knows–doesn’t like the idea of the dark outweighing the light. The solstice will be good for her; every day from here on out a little brighter than the last.

Open petitions are in full swing in the front hall–he lingers in the back for a bit to watch Anna work. Long gone is the single throne and long queue of Agnarr’s day. Elsa rethought the space about three times during her reign, and Anna’s made further changes, since. Now the dais contains a few overstuffed armchairs, and a side table for tea. Anyone who comes to speak to Queen Anna does so in comfort, and on her level. They… chat. Like friends; like equals.

When she wraps up the inquiry she was working on–some sort of misunderstanding about a dowry, and a young couple pretty desperate to give back what sounds like the world’s most ornery goat to the bride’s father–Kristoff strides to the front of the room.

“Sorry folks, just gonna call a quick recess, okay? Ice Master privilege, sorry, I’ll give the Queen back in just a minute.”

Before Anna has a chance to protest, he escorts her out the room and into a side hall.

“What are you doing?” she asks, unable to quite keep the laughter at his antics out of her voice. “I still have like a half-dozen people to see.”

“Yeah, I noticed. Which is why I figured you could probably use a pick-me-up.” With that, he takes the wrapped sandwiches from this morning from his satchel.

Her shoulders drop in relief at the smell of the fresh-baked bread; she immediately snatches one from his hands and starts scarfing it down. “Oh my gosh, I’m starving. How did you know?”

He knows because it’s his job to know. Anna takes care of Arendelle. Kristoff takes care of Anna. It’s as simple as that.

“Maybe you shouldn’t have skipped breakfast, feistypants.”

“Duty called,” she shrugs, unapologetically talking with her mouth full. “And hey, that’s ‘Queen Feistypants’ to you.”

“Apologies, your Majesty,” he teases, dropping into a low, ostentatious bow. His hat falls off with the movement, but when he goes to pick it up, it dances away from his hand.

“Wait, what? Oh, for–Gale!” he groans, and snatches at the air as the wind plays keep-away with him. “C'mon, give it back.”

Anna slaps her forehead. “Oh no, I was supposed to ask–oh,” she blinks as Kristoff’s parchment falls daintily into her hand, Elsa’s reply scribbled on the back. “Thanks.” She scans the note quickly. “Well, apparently there’s some sort of knocking test you can do to see if a rock has the spirit or not; Ryder can come down and teach it to the guild members. That’s easy enough.”

Kristoff raises an eyebrow. “Ryder has to tell these kids 'only dead rocks don’t knock back?’”

“They’re not dead rocks, they’re never-been-alive rocks. Totally different.” She polishes off the last of her sandwich and–when she gives him a plaintive, puppydog look–the last few bites of his, as well. “Okay, I’d better get back to work. Catch up with you tonight; thanks again, love you!”

And then there’s a quick kiss and she’s gone, like the whirling dervish she is. Or maybe that’s just Gale, chasing along behind her.

He’s at loose ends for the rest of his day–an ice harvester doesn’t tend to have as much to do, in the winter–and decides to ride out and meet Elsa halfway. Sven brays happily at the opportunity to go full speed, and before long they’re racing through fresh powdery snow. Just for the thrill, just for the fun of it. It is in these moments–bitter wind stinging at his face, the world whooshing past him in a rush–that Kristoff thinks he best understands the two women who make up his family. The freedom of speed and cold air and ground under your feet. The joy of going as fast as you can, because you trust your own legs to carry you. Or, y'know. Sven’s legs, as the case may be.

Anna’s the one who’s good at metaphors. He’s just along for the ride.

He hears them approach before he sees them–Ryder shouting out a Northuldra call-and-response song, a children’s rhyme about reindeer. Elsa’s voice chimes in on the refrains–hesitant, tremulous, happy. Like she’s still not quite certain she remembers all the words, but she’s so pleased to be included she can’t help but try anyway. It brings a full-toothed grin to Kristoff’s face, unbidden; he dismounts as they crest the ridge ahead and come into view.

“Kristoff!” the two shout in messy union, then immediately engage in a race to get to him first. The Nokk leaves Ryder in the dust; in moments, Kristoff’s got an armful of ex-Queen as Elsa jumps down into his arms.

“Hey,” he laughs, “I missed you, too.”

“What about my Kristoff hugs?” Ryder pouts as he catches up. Elsa squeezes Kristoff just a little bit tighter.

“Get your own. This one’s a family heirloom.”

“Imagine if I played that card every time you hugged Honeymaren,” Ryder teases slyly, and Kristoff bites back a laugh at the way Elsa turns bright, bright red. She lets him go and draws herself up to her full height, clearing her throat and squaring her shoulders. All he sees is Anna pulling the same maneuver that morning, and he can’t help it–the giggles escape, despite his best efforts.

“That’s quite enough of that,” she grumbles, re-mounting her horse. “We should get going or we’ll be late.”

Ryder settles for a fist-bump, in the meantime, and the three of them turn and make their way back towards Arendelle.

It seems like the whole town has turned out for the solstice pageant, the amphitheater down by the fjord filled with the buzz of proud families waiting for the kids to begin. Anna’s saved a whole passel of seats toward the front–piled high with cloaks to stop other people from sitting there. As though people might edge in on the Queen’s saved seats.

Kristoff feels his heart melt for her that much more.

Elsa and Anna do their usual song and dance at being reunited, prompting good-natured eye-rolls from everyone around them, and then the lights go down and the curtains come up. They hurriedly fall into their chairs as the schoolmaster comes out on stage.

“Hello parents, friends, and families! As you know, the children have been working hard on our little revue these past few weeks, and they’re very eager to share it with all of you. Enjoy!”

All the students shuffle out, holding hands. And there, standing among them, is Olaf–clearly scanning the crowd for their friendly faces. Anna lets out a whoop, and he positively beams at them.

Kristoff crosses his fingers. “Here we go,” he murmurs under his breath.

Olaf had been begging for the chance to go to school for ages now–but after he learned to read, they kind of ran out of excuses not to let him. The other children are more than used to his presence, and he loves coming home every day with new facts to share with all of them. Honestly, he’s thriving–though he had been heartbroken not to get the part of the Spirit of Summer to Come in the solstice pageant, cast instead as, perhaps predictably enough, a snowman.

Olaf nails every single one of his lines; at one point, Anna elbows Kristoff in the ribs, eyes mirthful, and he realizes he’s been mouthing along with them the whole time. After the final song, they all jump to their feet and cheer. Elsa puts her fingers to her lips and whistles loud, just the way Kristoff taught her.

The rest of the evening is a blur–Olaf dangling between Anna and Kristoff’s hands as they all walk home; Elsa and Ryder talking over each other at dinner in their eagerness to share all they’re learning about Ahtohallan; a lively game of Twister that Anna wins easily (Olaf being disqualified after detaching his arm to reach left hand blue). Ryder and Anna make plans to meet back up with the stonecutters first thing the next day, as Anna will be swamped the whole of the afternoon with trade delegation meetings. Kristoff has to all but drag her away before she can promise away what little free time she has left to making final adjustments on plans for the New Year’s ball in the coming days–“that’s tomorrow-you’s problem,” he reminds her, and she lets herself be led away by the hand.

And then finally, at long last, it’s just the two of them.

This, perhaps, is Kristoff’s favorite moment of the day: when Anna takes off her crown, lets down her hair, and curls up against him. Just Anna, no more, no less.

“I’m e-e-exhausted,” she yawns, burying her face in his shoulder, and he drops a kiss onto her forehead.

“Just one more queenly duty for the day,” he chuckles, before calling out “Okay buddy, we’re ready!” towards the door.

The quiet sound that had served as background noise throughout their nightly routine, of Olaf counting to one thousand on the other side of the door, goes quiet. “Are you sure?” he asks. “I’m only at eight hundred and thirty four.”

“Come on in, Olaf,” Anna laughs, and he does–dragging the book they’ve been reading behind him. On little snowball feet, he makes his way to the bed and, as Anna knows he likes to, clambers up onto the bedside chair before perching on the armrest.

“Are you ready?” Olaf asks, his eager smile pulling a little to one side, just like Elsa’s does. At their nods he begins: “Chapter Eight: The Enigma Becomes Doubly Mysterious. The child had laid her head on a stone and fallen asleep…” They gasp in all the right places as Jean Valjean realizes Cosette’s gone icy cold in the snow and cannot be roused; when the chapter ends on a cliffhanger, they even let him read on, until they know Cosette is safe. “One more?” he asks hopefully when he reaches the end of chapter nine, but he takes it with grace when Anna shakes her head–finishing their ritual by giving each of them a hug and lugging off his book, closing the door soundly behind him.

“I still feel like giving him that book was probably a mistake,” Kristoff chuckles.

“The schoolmaster says his vocabulary is improving too fast for us to hold him back.”

“Yeah, but Les Miserables?”

“He’s tough; he can handle it,” she says with certainty, and, well: the Queen has spoken. Who is Kristoff to argue?

Out of habit, his hand drifts up; he traces a delicate line with his pinky from the top of Anna’s forehead to the tip of her nose, once, and then again. Her gaze goes dreamy and disoriented, her blinks growing longer–and then her eyes narrow and she frowns, shaking him off. “Hey, quit it.”

“Quit what?” he teases, but she’s sitting up now, climbing into his lap to straddle him, and–oh.

“One more thing to check off my to-do list before bed,” she murmurs into his mouth, and oh, that’s awful, but–

Somehow, he just doesn’t have it in him to complain.

#this is so much longer than i thought it would be #i hope you enjoy!#they are MARRIED i am INTO THEM BEING MARRIED #fic what i wrote #frozen #frozen 2 #kristanna #Anonymous

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