#Melody kept playing the game after the live - She told us that someone else was live | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ashintheairlikesnow · 4 years ago

Note

Seconding the 'mob guys watching over Chris for Paul's suggestion!

CW: References to murder/mob organization stuff, references to parental death, grief, referenced past whump of a minor

Every Tuesday at 9 am, just like clockwork, Sean Malley lumbers into a coffeeshop nestled into the corner of a flat featureless strip mall. Contrasting to the pale concrete nothingness of its surrounding, the little coffeeshop is painted a warm, rich brown along the exterior, with heavy platers spilling over with purple and yellow flowers every few feet until Sean reaches the door.

It’s a welcome bit of individuality along this ring of small strip malls and larger big-box stores kept out of the city proper by a pile of zoning laws too draconian to fight. He’s been coming here for ten years now, more or less, and has seen the little coffeshop through its earliest days struggling for business right to now, where he feels reasonably certain he’ll be dead long before they close this place for good.

He moves inside, the light immediately warm and slightly dimmed. The scent in the air of freshly roasted coffee beans and baked goods. The cannolis they sell came from him, Sean’s proud of that - his wife had a favorite recipe and he’d given it to them after she passed, hoping for one batch for the service. They’d just kept making them, having one ready for him when he popped in, and... well, they’ve sold them ever since. Even call them Christa’s Cannolis, handwritten in cursive on a little placard. She’d have been tickled pink, he thinks sometimes, to see it.

One of his knees comes and goes as it pleases these days, giving his step a bit of a shuffle-scrape. He’s smiling, though, and humming as he goes.

Life is good for Sean Malley, all things considered.

Truth be told, he hadn't actually expected to live this long. Keeping close to Conor and his family had paid off in the early days - just as his instincts had kept him safe when the Garden erupted in in-fighting, too. When the Clean-Up happened, during the Garden’s most vicious in-fighting, Sean had seen half the men he’d watched start as snot-nosed dumbasses taken out one by one, clearing the way for Conor’s fucking grandson to make his play for power.

Those kids who’d run lookout gigs and then moved on to guard duty or work with the cargo coming in... one by one those kids-turned-adults, with families of their own, had been removed from the picture. Fifteen, all told, a bloodbath stretched out over six months - sixteen, of course, if you count how Paul’s murder went all wrong.

The one comfort had been watching Conor’s grandson lay the groundwork for his own comeuppance the whole time - promising favors for loyalty and then killing the ones he’d promised those favors to. That’s no way to start yourself as leader, and... well.

Trash had been taken out, in the end. Riley Higgs had gotten rid of the poison - and the poison’s friends - and his crew’s a damn sight better than Conor’s grandson’s people had been.

Riley, for one thing, understands that an organization like the Garden works, in the end, on trust. On being a family.

Don’t kill your family without a good damn reason, now do you?

Now Riley... he had a good reason. And Sean had made sure Riley Higgs knew a few very important facts that kept him on the man’s good side, and very much alive when the dust settled.

Even if he had did have to live with a bum knee. And back. And his hip’s started twinging every time it rains...

"Morning, Mr. Malley!" His favorite barista calls out, giving him a wave from behind the counter. She's a pretty thing, just cute as a button. Probably in her late twenties but when you’re as old as Sean is, everyone looks like a child playing pretend.

Still, it always brings a bit of sun in the old man's day to see her bright pink hair before he ever takes his seat. He always tells her she should move on from here, do something with her life other than serve old men their coffee and watch them while away the hours.

But I like it here, Melody always replies, giving a little shrug of her shoulders. I like our regulars, too. Besides, this place pays better than the job I’d get with my actual degree.

"G'morning to you, Melody!" He calls back, moving to have a seat in his usual spot, sinking gratefully into the plush armchair by the bookshelf in the corner. His favorite coffee table book, a heavy thing full of photos of World War II, is already laid out on the side table next to it, bookmarked where he’d left off last week. "Busy day, today?"

Melody is already heading his way, coffee in hand just how he likes it, one of Christa’s Cannolis on a small plate in the other. Sean’s doctor has been on him about cutting out sugar, and he’s done it just about everywhere else, but he still has his cannoli on Tuesdays. Christa had been so proud of herself when she’d mastered that recipe...

"Not really,” Melody says with a shrug, breaking into his thoughts. “Just the usual morning rush and a couple college kids, wandered outside but they left their drinks, I figure they’ll come back. One of 'em looks like he got mauled by a real weak bear."

Sean feigns surprise. "Oh, does he now?" He takes a sip of his coffee and sighs happily. "Not too hot. You had it out already, didn't you?"

"I saw your car pull into the lot," Melody says, giving a little it's nothing gesture. “I knew you’d be in, so I kept an eye out for you.”

"You're a doll, Melody, and this place would be lost without you." He presses the twenty-dollar bill into her hand, and when she protests, he shakes his head, adds another ten, and closes her hand firmly around the cash. "Take it, take it. I'm an old man on my own, who've I got to spend it on, huh?"

"You're not that old, Mr. Malley," Melody sighs, an old song and dance between them. “You’ve got grandkids who could use it, too, you know.”

"Ha! Trust that my grandkids never want for anything, Melody. Besides, live the life I've lived, and sixty feels like eighty-two. Go on, then. Cilly'll be along in a bit."

He sits back to drink his coffee as she heads back behind the counter, watching through the front window the cars that pass along the highway, the scattering of people getting in and out of their own vehicles in the parking lot. It's a perfect, and perfectly normal, Tuesday morning. Just like any other.

A perfectly normal Tuesday where one creature of habit makes it a point to get a quick look at another.

A flash of red catches his eye, and he frowns, watching a bright red Northern cardinal alight on the bench placed outside the shop, preening one wing briefly and then seeming to look towards the lot.

Sean follows its gaze, silently chastising himself for being so utterly taken by a simple bird, but... Northern cardinals are more or less unheard of around here, especially in the city. This one seems to cock its head in his direction.

"Someone," He mutters to himself, "is a bit lost."

There's a peal of laughter, as the door opens, the little bell on top chiming to announce them, and there they are.

Two young people walking inside, heads tilted together. One of them has thick, wavy black hair, one of those haircuts the younger people like so much now, shaved on the sides but long on top. The younger guys in the Family wear their hair like that now and then.

Sean thinks he liked it better when everyone kept things neat and tidy, but times change, and the Garden can't stagnate just because an old timer's got opinions. Riley’s take is he’d rather is people look like they could be anybody anywhere, and Sean has to admit the kind of haircut he’d like to see would stick out like a sore thumb.

Both of them are wearing all black head to toe, the black-haired one in a tank top and baggy pants, a large yellow lightning bolt on a cord settled just below their collarbone. Honestly, if he gets past the hair thing, they’re cute as a button, too.

Really, though, he’s not here because of them.

He’s here to get a good look at the young man walking in beside them.

It’s funny - it’s been nine - ten? - years since he last saw Paul Higgs alive, the day before he and his sweet Ronnie were gunned down in their own home in the night... but tears still prick at the corners of Sean’s eyes when he see the ghost of Paul in his son’s narrow face.

There’d been a joke when the little one first came into the world, that somehow Paul and Ronnie had put together a child where her genetics simply skipped out entirely. He’d been a little clone of Paulie from the start, and he’s different as a man than he’d been as a child lining toy cars up at their feet in the warehouse on Saturdays when Ronnie needed a break.

Sean pulls his phone out, idly scrolling - his daughter had helped him to get Facebook and a couple other things besides, including some kind of app that had his favorite card games. He pretends now to be fascinated by something he sees, but in truth he pulls his camera up and starts recording.

“It, it, it could change everything,” Paulie’s boy is saying, breathlessly excited, hands moving through the air in a blend of gesture and general happiness. “You see? Everything! Make it, it, it-it safer, make... make things better.”

“I know, I know,” The other one replies, deep voice warm and thick with love, and Sean sighs, missing his Christa now more than ever. He consoles himself with a bite of cannoli. “I already told you I’m in, Chris, okay? I’m going to help you. You don’t have to sell me on it.”

Tristan ducks his head with a shy smile, and boy if he isn’t Paul’s spitting image in that, too. Paulie hadn’t smiled much, not like his kid does - maybe that’s what he got from Ronnie - but in a smile like that, well... you could see where he got it from. If you’d known Paul, of course.

Which the kid didn’t, not anymore.

“It could, um, be dangerous though.” They’re barely audible now as they go back to where they left their still-steaming drinks, sitting down on a nearby couch. “Nat’s worried. And, and, and you know Jake-”

“Chris, you could walk across a crosswalk when the light starts blinking and Jake would still worry about you,” The other one teases. Sean knows their name, but right now it won’t quite come to mind, lingering on the tip of is tongue, never quite landing. “It’ll be public, yeah-”

“Telling everyone who... who, who I am.” Tristan starts tapping his fingers on his pants, a peculiar finger-twist-tap-tap-tap gesture that Sean once knew as well as anyone, when the boy was small. But it’s the words, with a hint of nervousness lining them, that get his attention. “The... the whole world’s going to, to, to to-to-... to... to know about Tristan Higgs.”

Now that gets Sean’s attention. He cuts the video, sends it to Riley, and starts a new one. It takes work not to sit up, or drop his cannoli, or in some other way give himself away.

He knows, then?

How?

Sean looks down at his phone, looking over the scar on Paul’s boy’s forehead, the only remaining evidence of what had been much more visible the first couple times they’d seen him out after it happened. Sean and Cilly had figured maybe a fight - people get into them, really. Paul wasn’t exactly gentle as a lamb, and why would his boy be?

But now... he wondered. His instincts told him the two were related, and of course he knew from the time they’d worked with WRU pretty closely under the table that those memory things they did sometimes failed. Sean had done a fixer job once for someone whose pet had recovered memories too fast and killed a servant in a panic...

“Oh, Paul,” Sean murmurs. “What’d your boy do, hm?”

“I’m, I’m going to to to t-... to tell everyone who I am,” Paul’s boy is saying, leaning forward and taking the hands of the other one in his own, squeezing them tight. “I’m... will, will, will you come with me? When, when I... so someone’s there?”

“What? Holy shit, Chris, go to the Olympics? With you?” They inhale and exhale, blowing some hair from their eyes, and smile. “You should take someone who knows more than I do about all that stuff, Chris, take Jake, or-”

“Jake has has to stay here. To, to protect the house. But... will you come with me?”

Sean cuts the video, sends it to Riley, and this time adds a message.

Olympics are in Chicago this year. What’s Paul Jr. planning?

He feels eyes on him and glances up to find Tristan looking over at him, an expression of uncertainty on his face. Sean’s been watching him for years, popping up in places, the way you sometimes see the same faces at the corner store, the mom-and-pop, a coffeeshop like this one. Now, he watches Tristan look him over, knowing he’s familiar but not knowing why. Part of him, with a pinprick of an old, old grief, wishes Paul’s little boy would recognize him now.

Most of him knows it’s better if he doesn’t.

Tristan looks away, and goes back to talking, but his voice lowers and now Sean can’t quite pick up what he’s saying beyond a few scattered words. He gets a couple photos of the lovebirds with their head together, sipping coffee, and sends those on to Riley, too.

Job done, he settles back to finish his cannoli and drink his coffee. Tristan and-... Laken, his name suddenly supplies, only an hour after he’d started trying to remember it - get up and leave, Tristan’s arm around Laken’s waist.

Good for the kid, Sean thinks, with a smile. By this age Paul had an elementary school son running around, but you know, it’s good to take your time on these things, and it’s nice to see that all the shit they’ve had to stand back and watch still wraps up nicely into Paul’s boy living a pretty nice life indeed.

His phone dings just as Cilly enters - right on time at 10, like clockwork - and he glances down to open the message from Riley.

I’ll get one of our guys to look into it. This might give us the out on the business I don’t want to be in I’ve been looking for. Kid looks good, looks like Paul. Family genes run deep.

Sean greets Cilly, even older than him but a sight more spry, and glances out the window. The bird’s gone from the bench, of course. The day is bright and shining.

In Laken’s car, they’re halfway back to the house Laken shares with their roommates when Chris suddenly sits straight up. “Mr. Malley,” He breathes out, green eyes widening.

Laken jumps - he’d been silent, preoccupied and in thought - and nearly jerks the car into a curb. “Damn, Chris! You scared me. What’d you say?”

“The old guy, in, in, in the the the the-the-... the coffeeshop, who kept looking at, at me.” Chris rocks forward, hands on the dashboard, his eyes staring ahead but not at the road, they’re looking far ahead... or behind himself, back in time and not space, when and not where. “His name’s Mr. Malley. I, I, I knew-... my dad knew, my, my, my dad, my dad-”

He winces, the headache splitting him apart, and Laken hits their turn signal, pulling into the parking lot of a generic fast food place, swinging into a parking space and turning to look at him.

“Chris? You okay?”

Chris’s face has gone pale, cold sweat breaking out. It still happens, sometimes, and when they lean over to touch his shoulder he flinches back from them, instinctively.

Laken exhales. “Okay. Ride it out, Chris. Let the memory go if it’s hurting, it’ll come back to you. They all come back now.”

“No! No, I, I, I want-... Mr. Malley knew my dad, I went to-... work, with, with him sometimes, his his his wife babysat me, I... I know him. I knew him. I knew-” He turns to look at them, and they fight the urge to try and touch him again.

Not yet.

“Do you... do you think, think, think he knew me?”

Laken swallows. “I don’t think so. Wouldn’t he have said something, if he recognized you? If he was your dad’s friend? Are you absolutely sure that-”

“Yes, I’m, I’m sure. I know it was him. I, I, I know, he, he, he gave me me me Dinotopia books... for Christmas one year...” Chris jerked in a breath and let it out again, hands going up over his head, folding himself in half until his forehead rested on the dashboard, pressed to the cool molded plastic. “He, he, he, he came to their funeral, he hugged me, he said, you’re too young to to to to have to lose so much, and everyone said-... everyone said stuff I hated but but but not him, he said, he said-”

“Chris, please, don’t hurt yourself doing this-”

“He said grief gets worse before it gets better, and and and and he said-... he said... he said don’t let anyone tell you that R-Ronnie’d want you to to to be strong, she’d want you to scream your head off if you want to, your dad’d be proud if if if if-if... if you told us all to go to hell, and... and and and and it felt like he was the only person who who who knew them at all that day, everyone said, said, said stupid things but not him, not-... not him and not Mr. Cilly, not-... not my Aunt Jo, not anybody, but he-”

Chris chokes on a sob and when Laken throws their arms around him he melts into it this time, crying against their shoulder, the two of them uncomfortably arched over the center console and the gear shift.

“It’s okay,” Laken whispers, running their fingers over the slowly growing fuzz of his hair. “It’s okay. Let it ride, Chris. It’s okay.”

“He, he, he was my dad’s b-b-best friend-... Why d-didn’t he, if he saw me, why wouldn’t he-... I s-see him all th-the the the time, why doesn’t he know who I am?”

“Maybe he’s like Akio,” Laken says, and feels him trembling under their touch. “Maybe he’s always thought you were dead.”

“I w-was,” Chris whispers “When I, I, I was Baldur. When I was training. When... when I... was good. I was dead.”

“Chris-”

“I was dead,” Chris says, and they kiss his head, helpless to think of anything else to do. “When my p-parents died, I died, too. Mr. Malley made m-me feel like I I I wasn’t. Why didn’t he kn-know me? Why didn’t a-anyone know I was alive?”

“I don’t know, baby. I don’t know.”

“Hurts,” Chris whispers. “Why, why, why didn’t anyone help me before she she she-... before I was-... why didn’t anyone help me?”

Laken’s own eyes burn, and they draw circles on his scalp with their fingertips. “I can’t answer that,” They say, low and soft. “I’m sorry. But you know you have people who can and will help you now.”

For a while, Chris’s only sounds are sobs, and Laken can only make soft soothing nonsense noises and feel like shit that it’s not enough.

“Ev, everyone knew she-she hated me,” Chris whimpers, and sounds younger than he ever has, and Laken wants to throw a punch or scream and they can’t do either, only sit in the car and glare at people who look in as they walk past. “Everyone.”

“Chris-”

“Everyone knew, why, why, why why why didn’t they stop her?”

Back in the coffeeshop, Sean and Cilly are in the midst of an argument about a baseball game that happened 30 years ago when his phone rings. He holds up one finger and picks it up, lifting it to his ear.

“I have a job for you,” Riley says, with his cheerful hint of brogue. Funny, to remember that this part of the family only came here a few decades ago. “It’s a job I know you’ll enjoy.”

“Watching Paul’s boy is my retirement gig,” Sean says amicably. “You know I don’t do the dangerous stuff any longer, Mr. Higgs.”

There’s a silence. “I’m going to do some looking into what you sent me. But in the meantime I need to give you a job, and you’re going to do it.”

“And why is that, Mr. Higgs?”

“Because you’re going to want to do this.”

“What is it, then?”

Another pause.

“I want you to find Joanne Botham.”

Sean thinks of the dour, angry woman who had ignored Tristan in his funeral suit, gathering mourners around her while she sobbed over Ronnie’s loss, Ronnie’s own son alone on a couch staring off into space until Sean himself had sat down and told him, don’t let ‘em say your mom’d be proud of you bein’ stoic today, kiddo. Ronnie’d want you to scream if you felt the urge.

The kid had looked at him like he’d been given water in the desert, a starving man offered a bowlful of broth. Mr. Malley?

People will say a lot of real stupid stuff to you today, Sean had said. His eyes had gone to Joanne Botham, and Ronnie’s sister’s icy glare when she looked at her own nephew had made his blood run cold with anger even then. Likely in the future, too. But you just remember Paul and Ronnie weren’t saints. And they’d never want you to be, either. I’m sorry for your loss, Tris. No one on God’s earth has loved their kid like yours loved you. Should’ve seen his face when he told us your mom was pregnant with you. Could’ve lit the world with all the sunshine there.

A clap on the back, a whispered thank you, and that had been the last day Sean Malley had ever seen Tristan Higgs alive.

Until, of course, Riley had told him there was a boy living in a pet liberation safehouse who looked remarkably like Paul. Until, of course, Riley had shared that he’d known Tristan Higgs was alive all along. Until, of course, Sean had been told he couldn’t make a move because WRU was protecting all the players who had stolen his friend’s kid.

Until... now.

“Mr. Higgs?” His voice drops, and Cilly sits up, alarmed at the sudden change in tone.

“You heard me. Find Joanne Botham. I have a feeling we are about to get the opportunity we’ve been waiting for.”

The phone goes dead on the other end, and Sean slowly sets it down, finishing his second cup of coffee in a gulp. Then he looks at Cilly, and starts to smile.

“Riley’s got work for us,” He says, and when Cilly’s eyebrows raise he doesn’t wait for him to ask for more. “Don’t worry. You’re going to like it. Finally get to do what we should have done ten fucking years ago.”

---

Tagging: @burtlederp , @finder-of-rings , @endless-whump , @whumpfigure , @astrobly @newandfiguringitout , @doveotions , @pretty-face-breaker , @gonna-feel-that-tomorrow @boxboysandotherwhump , @oops-its-whump @cubeswhump , @whump-tr0pes @downriver914 @vickytokio @whumpiary @orchidscript @moose-teeth @nonsensical-whump

#whump #speak out arc #chris the strawberry blond romantic #emotional whump #grief tw #referenced parental death #referenced past whump of a minor #referenced murder #memory loss #memory recovery #recovering whumpee #caretaker and whumpee #hi made myself cry during chris's part towards the end wheeeee

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myhockeyworld87 · 4 years ago

Text

Bubble Wrapped - Part 13

Word Count: 3,876

POV: Reader

Warnings: Same as always, Language, Smut, NSFW, Please see the note in the Masterlist

Teams: Bruins, Caps, Flyers, Lightning, Pens, Jackets, Canes, Islanders

Notes: Well, here we are onto another part of Bubble Wrapped. When we last left this story, our Reader had an encounter with Svech, who then proceeded to profess his love. Our reader didn’t quite see Svech in that light but there might be someone else that she does. So I’m hoping the wrap this story up in a couple more parts. I’m not sure what happened here but this is soft smut in my world. As always feedback is greatly appreciated and wanted…hahaha! Luv ya all!! Happy Reading to all!

Wracking your brain you tried to come up with alternate solutions on where you and Mat could have dinner and maybe a little fun afterward. There was always the option of shutting down one of the nightclubs and having a private party for just the two of you, but then staff would be milling around cooking and getting things ready for the players to use those rooms during the day. Your suite was the ideal option, but with your current roommates, it was scratched off the list easily.

It was then that an idea struck you. Your suite connected to the pool, which always shut down early in the evening. It wouldn’t be hard to shut it down, say around seven in the evening for a late dinner with Mat, and with it being on the rooftop there would be no chance for anyone to see anything that happened after that dinner. “I think I have an alternate plan,” you told Mat who had already decided dinner was off the table so to speak. “That is if you’re still interested.”

One side of his face turned up into what could only be called a shit-eating grin. “Oh, I’m definitely interested.”

“Then meet me up by the pool say seven-thirty tomorrow night?”

There was a note of disappointment in Mat’s face and it had you questioning if you said or had done something wrong. “Yeah, seven-thirty sounds great. Just wish I was the one planning the date for you.”

Oh, well if that was his concern, that was nothing. “I’ll let you plan the next one. You know when you move into the hotel.”

“Deal,” he told you, his eyebrows picking up with excitement and you had to wonder what he had planned for the future. “I hate to do this but I kind of have to get going. I have to get ready for the game soon, or I’d stay and chat.”

“I understand.”

“I’ll meet you tomorrow night.” Mat told you, a huge grin on his face, but then you were pretty sure that yours reflected the same. He was just about to turn and walk away when he stopped, his voice dropping low. “So, am I supposed to bring a suit or…?”

The innuendo hung in the air for only a moment, before you chuckled softly. “Consider it optional,” you told him with a little wink, and then before he could be the one to walk away you did. Leaving Mat to wonder what tomorrow night would hold for the both of you.

The rest of the afternoon went rather swimmingly, or maybe it was just because you had thoughts about your upcoming date with Mat on the brain. You worked most of the day downstairs, calling to check on Svech every so often only to find that he was sleeping. By the time you got back to the suite, the boys were all down in the living room playing video games. At least it was better than them puncturing your ceilings with hockey sticks. There was a slight awkwardness between you, Joel, and Andrei, but then you sort of expected that, considering Svech kept looking at you like a lovesick schoolboy. You could only hope that Joel didn’t realize what had happened while he and Dougie had been at practice.

Before you knew it, everyone retired for the evening. You half expected there to be a knock at your door shortly after you retired, and you laid there for quite some time waiting for it. It never came though. Maybe it was because they were sharing a room, or maybe it was because they both realized that something had happened between you with both of them; you couldn’t really be sure. At any rate, you were glad when they all finally left for the arena, so you could get ready for your date with Mat. Even Svech put on his suit and tie and headed over, as he was hobbling around much better the next day.

Throwing on a cute pale pink sundress, you headed up to the pool area to setup. Being the hotel manager did have its perks, and one of them included knowing where the most secluded spot was on the rooftop deck. You made sure that it would be closed off to all the players, but there was still an off chance that someone could wander up, and you didn’t want to be in the wide open for just anyone to see if they decided to peer through the hallway by the elevators. You rearranged a couple potted plants for cover as well, before setting up the table.

Right before Mat arrived you went down to your suite and brought up the meal that you had the chef prepare, so that everything was perfect for when he came. You weren’t sure why you were going to all the extra trouble, but there was just something about Mat that made you go that extra mile.

You were shocked to see him standing at the door, dress in a button-down shirt and dress pants. Most of the men had adopted the relaxed casual attire the NHL deemed appropriate for the bubble, and you just assumed that he probably hadn’t brought anything with him. “Hi,” he breathed out when you opened the door to let him in, only to lock it again. “These are for you.” He handed over a small bouquet of pink and white roses to you. “It’s the best I could do.”

“They’re beautiful.” It was so simplistic and sweet compared to the extravagant gifts Tyler had given you. “How did you get them?”

“You’re not the only one with connections,” he said with a little wink and you had to wonder if Carly had anything to do with this.

“Thank you, they’re lovely.” Going up on your toes you kissed him on the cheek, which only made you lightheaded as you inhaled the intoxicating scent of him mixed with his cologne.

“You look beautiful by the way,” he told you. Before you could pull away, his hand went to the small of your back urging you to stay tucked into this side.

“Thank you.” Just being close to him again, sent a jolt of lust through your body, and you knew if you didn’t get him over to the table soon, that you’d be having him for dinner. “Let’s eat before it gets cold.” You skated your hand down his arm so that you could entwine your fingers with his and lead him over to the spot you had set up for the two of you.

The table, while not anything special, was set up for just the two of you. A bottle of champagne sat chilling beside it, while the soft glow of candles lit up the secluded alcove you’d chosen. “Wow, you really went to a lot of trouble.”

“It was nothing really.” It struck you then that this was the first real date that you’d had since this whole pandemic started. I mean sure you’d had a few hookups, maybe more than a few, since you were in the bubble and maybe something even before it, but this was like actual couple stuff. “I wasn’t sure what you liked so I kind of just went with a little bit of everything.” A bout of nervousness hit for some unknown reason and suddenly you were shaking as you uncovered the dishes you had ordered. Apparently, hookups were easier to deal with than an actual date was.

“Hey, look at me,” Mat gently whispered as he covered his hand with yours, and you looked up into the deep fathoming pools of his eyes. “I’m nervous too if it helps.” The side of his lips lifted up into the cutest smile you ever saw. “Just breathe.” You did, taking a nice deep calming breath and feeling so much better. “Ok, yeah…” Mat said and you looked at him in question. “Maybe not so deep next time.” His cheeks were stained red as he’d just admitted to staring at your breasts, and you had to laugh at how you were both acting like two high school kids instead of grown adults.

It was time to take the situation in hand. Stepping closer to Mat, you whispered, “I think we’d both feel better if we got this out of the way first.” You slid your hands up behind his neck and drew his mouth down to yours. You were only in control of the kiss for a moment, before Mat’s tongue swept across your lips, begging you for entrance, which you gave, of course. His tongue mingled with yours, tasting you and drinking you in, as his hands slid around your waist pulling you close to his body. You melted into him and all the nerves from moments ago just seemed to disappear along with the rest of the world.

Mat pulled away first, yet still chased your lips, before breathless saying, “That was exactly what I needed.”

With one final peck, you stepped back, albeit reluctantly. “Ok, back to dinner then.”

Conversation over dinner flowed easily after that, so much so that you completely forgot the awkwardness that took place when Mat first got there. Mat spoke about hockey and his family, while you deftly avoided telling him anything about yours, not wanting to go down that rabbit hole. Instead, you told him about all the crazy mishaps that had taken place since this bubble had started, omitting all your sexcapades.

“They really broke a pipe with a hockey stick?” Mat roared with laughter at your telling him why the three Canes were staying with you.

“I know. I couldn’t believe it either.”

“You certainly have your hands full here.” Mat took your hand in his then, gently rubbing his thumb back and forth over your knuckles. “Though I’m glad you made time for this tonight.”

“Me too.” You were honestly having one of the best nights you’d had since the bubble started. With his free hand, the one not still linked with yours, Mat grabbed his phone. Apparently, he didn’t feel the same way as you did if he was going to make a call.

The thought no sooner came to your mind that he wasn’t enjoying himself when you heard a soft melody playing from his mobile. “Dance with me?” You simply nodded your head, and he drew the two of you to your feet.

He easily wrapped you up within his arms, as yours went around his neck; the two of you swaying to the music, bodies pressed intimately as you danced under the stars. Mat’s eyes stared into yours, so warm and loving, and you found yourself getting lost in them. Slowly, his lips drifted down to yours, capturing them in a kiss that stole your breath away. This time you gave him entrance immediately, as your tongues danced to a melody all of their own.

Your fingers slipped through his locks at the nape of his neck, and he moaned against your mouth. The kiss becoming even more heated, his hands roaming over your ass to press you closer to him. Mat twirled you both until you felt the back of your knees bump up against one of the oversized cabana chairs. He lowered you down onto it; his body followings yours as he continued to ravage you with his kisses.

Mat’s mouth was everywhere, on your lips, trailing down your neck and across your collarbone, until he suddenly stopped. He pulled back to look at you, lust in his eyes. “Do you want me to stop?”

It was sweet of him to ask considering what had already transpired between the two of you a week or so ago. “Please don’t stop,” you begged him, wanting to feel his mouth on you again. A wicked grin spread on his face before he was back to devouring you again. His one hand skimmed up the inside of your thigh while his other eased the strap of your dress off your shoulder. Not to be outdone, you deftly undid the buttons of his shirt before pulling its tail out of his pants. His body was amazing. You drank it in that day at the arena, admiring his abs as sweat glistened off of them, but now you let your hand leisurely play with the well-developed muscles there.

When your nails raked across his six-pack to roam down to his belt, he sucked in a breath, before stilling your hands. “Not yet, babe. There’s something I’ve been dying to do first.” He gently pushed you so that your back fully lay on the cushions. Slipping your arms out of your dress straps, he slowly lowered the garment so that he could feast upon your breasts. It was no surprise that you weren’t wearing a bra as the sundress's thin spaghetti straps didn’t allow for it. Mat took one taut nipple in his mouth, his tongue swirling around it before tugging on it with his teeth. Your back arched up into him as you gasp out with pleasure.

You were so enthralled with his mouth, you didn’t feel his hand glide up your inner thigh until it reached your core. His hand cupped your sex and you knew he could feel the moisture that he’d created through the thin material of your panties. He spread your legs easily before sinking down on his knees in front of you. He pulled your body closer to the edge of the cabana seat, before pushing your dress around your waist. “Lift up for me.” You did as commanded and the next thing you knew he slid your panties off and into his pants pocket. He trailed hot kisses up your inner thighs making you squirm with delight. Your chest rose and fell in anticipation of where his mouth would soon be, and you could feel him grinning as he kissed your heated skin.

His fingers spread you wide before you felt his tongue lick a stripe up your core. “Mmm,” he moaned out, or was that you, you couldn’t tell. “Fuck your wet,” and this time you knew they were Mat’s words, which brought more moisture pooling at your center. His mouth went to work then, flicking across your clit, then darting inside your pussy. It was a full-on assault to bring you pleasure, and you treasured every second of it. One strong arm, held your hips down as your body started to move on its own accord. “You taste so good,” he panted then sucked on your clit. “I knew you would. This is all I could think about for the last week.” His fingers joined the play of his lips, thrusting first one and then another inside you.

“Don’t stop,” you moaned, as your hands threaded into his dark locks keeping his mouth in place as you drew closer to the edge of ecstasy. Maybe it was your words or the fact that Mat could feel you start to flutter on his lips, but his mouth didn’t let up on your clit as his fingers made that perfect come-hither motion that drove you to the brink of insanity. You came with a loud moan, as your body shook from the intense sensations.

Mat worked you through the orgasm, slowly ceasing his movements as you came back to reality. “Damn your beautiful when you cum.”

His lips glistened with your juices on him and you found yourself reaching for him. He came willingly. His body looming over yours. “Then I think you should make me cum again. Only this time I want you inside me.” Mat didn’t have to be told twice. His mouth came down on yours, where you tasted your essence on his lips, as he kicked his pants off. Taking himself in hand, he guided his cock to your wet and waiting pussy. The chords in his neck strained as he slowly entered you, as you could see the amount of effort it took him to hold back instead of just plunging in deep and hard. Little did he know that that would’ve satisfied you as well, but there would be other times for him to do that, at least you hoped there would.

His lips only left yours once he was buried deep inside you, and then it was only to suck in a deep breath. “Fuck,” he hissed out. “You feel so good.” Slowly, almost painstakingly so, he started to thrust in and out of you. One hand held your hip steady, while the other toyed with your breast, flicking and pinching your nipple. You moaned at the sensation relishing the feel of him inside you. “So beautiful.”

His lips found yours again, stoking an even greater hunger within you. “Harder, Mat. Harder.” He picked up the pace, his balls slapping against you. Moans from both you and Mat mingled in the night air, as a cool summer breeze caressed your heated skin. You felt your body clench as Mat hit you in just the right spot.

“That’s it cum for me, beautiful.” You broke apart, shattering once again as your second orgasm of the night hit you. He gave you but a moment to recover before flipping over on your stomach. Grabbing a pillow, he propped it under your stomach then drew you up on your knees. His cock slammed back into your dripping pussy. Both hands gripping your hips, he pounded into you at a feverish pace. When you finally recovered, you levered yourself up on your elbows, pushing back against him when his thrusts slowed. “Fuck baby,” he grunted out as you fucked yourself on his cock. He gathered your hair in his hands, pulling you gently back towards him as he lowered himself down to nip at your neck. You hoped there wouldn’t be marks there in the morning.

You weren’t sure what pushed Mat over the edge, but the next thing you knew he grabbed both hips and pistoned his cock in and out of you. “Oh,” he groaned, and you felt yourself start to quiver. You didn’t think that you’d cum like this, without any stimulation to your clit, but you could feel a third orgasm start to build. “God, yes, baby.” Mat thrusts hammered into you and then you were spiraling once again. Mat followed you, with a loud moan, as his hands bit into your hips. Your elbows gave out and you both collapsed on the lounge chair. “That was…”

“Fucking amazing,” you finished for him.

“Yes, yes it was.” He moved to his side, bringing your body with him. Bodies sticky from sex and sweat, you laid there letting the summer air cool your body. Mat swept back a lock of hair that had fallen across your face. “So beautiful.” His words were but a whisper, a caress almost and you shivered, not from the night breeze but the look in his eyes. They held so much emotion in them. Happiness, lust, longing, and something else you dare not say for you weren’t sure if you were ready for that, were all there.

It was too much, and so you closed your eyes before saying, “Care to take a little dip?”

“I thought he just did.” You both laughed lightly at his cute little pun. “But why not.”

You got up, leaving Mat still lounging on the oversized chair, and shimmied your dress off your body finally. Looking over your shoulder, you gave Mat a wink before walking to the edge of the pool and diving in. When you surfaced from the water, Mat was still in the same position, just lazily watching you. “Are you coming?”

“Oh, I think we’ll both be doing that in a few minutes.”

True to his words, Mat had you cuming as you both found release under the water. It was sometime later, that you were both dressed again, the night getting late and Mat had to get back to Royal York and his team. “I wish I didn’t have to go,” he told you holding you within his arms, his hands running up and down your back.

“I wish you didn’t either.” You kissed for what had to be the millionth time that night.

“Well, hopefully, you’ll be seeing more of me here soon.” He dropped kisses to your lips, nose, and forehead, before adding. “Until then…Do you think we could do this again?” You went to answer, but Mat continued. “Maybe on a more exclusive level?”

It was the last thing you thought he’d ask. You didn’t really see him as the monogamous type, so his question took you off guard. “I think you’ve been in the bubble too long.”

“Maybe,” he admitted. “Maybe it’s only opened my eyes to things that I want.” He took a small strand of hair and tucked it behind your ear; he seemed to be doing that a lot tonight. The gesture was both endearing and seductive at the same time.

“I think you drank too much champagne.” It wasn’t that you didn’t like the idea of a relationship with Mat. In fact, it was kind of appealing. Of all the men you’d been with since this whole thing started, there were three that came to mind that you’d actually consider being with, and Mat was one of them. You just didn’t know where your feelings stood with the other two.

His grip on your hips tightened and he nudged you closer. “The only thing I’m drunk on ... is you.” He punctuated his words with an intoxicating kiss. “But you don’t have to answer me now. You can let me know when I move in here.”

“You’re incorrigible.” You couldn’t help but kiss him again, for he was just too irresistible.

“I’ve gotta go,” Mat finally said, after what seemed like an endless goodbye kiss.

“I’ll go down to the lobby with you. I should check and make sure everything is fine, before heading to bed.”

“Alone?”

“Yes, alone.” You hadn’t realized he was the jealous type, but you could see a little bit of the green monster there in his eyes.

“Just making sure none of your roommates will be visiting.” You rolled your eyes at him, though in the back of your mind you wondered what he had heard to make him think something was going on between you and any of the guys.

“They won’t be.” You kissed him one last time before heading downstairs. The lobby was quiet as you said your goodbyes, but then you heard the doors open as the Canes came filtering back in from their game. You’d forgotten all about them playing tonight. From the look on their faces, it hadn’t gone well.

“Looks like I’ll be moving in sooner than I thought,” Mat whispered in your ear as Svech and Joel walked past. Both of them took in your appearance, as well as Mat’s hand at the small of your back. “Guess I’ll be getting an answer to that question soon as well.”

You were going to have to examine your feelings faster than you anticipated, and you weren’t quite sure you were ready to give up all the fun, just yet.

#bubble wrapped the series #nhl smut #nhl imagine #nhl imagines #hockey smut #hockey imagine #hockey imagines #Mat barzal #mat barzal smut #mat barzal imagine #mat barzal imagines #mathew barzal #Mathew Barzal smut #mathew barzal imagine

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vivianweasley · 4 years ago

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Just Another Bad Guy (Fred Weasley X Malfoy!Reader)

Summary: You are Draco Malfoy’s twin sister so everyone just assumed that you guys are the same. Not Fred, he knows who you are and loves you for it. But your romance was cut short after you were forced to become a death eater. Could the two of you find your way back to each other after all of this is over?

Pairing: Fred Weasley X Fem!Malfoy!Reader

Warnings: angst to fluff, war, post-war traumas, poor writing

Word count: 4.1K

A/N: I finished this a long time ago but got scared to post it for some reasons. Hope you guys would like it :)

Please do NOT repost my work or translate it on another site without permission! Thank You! Reblogs and comments are always welcome<3

To be honest, no one really knew what kind of person (Y/F/N) Malfoy is. But she’s the twin sister of the infamous Draco Malfoy, so everyone just assumed that they are the same: pure blood and proud pricks.

Including Fred Weasley, or at least before today’s incident.

He was hiding around the corner, watching the trip wire and paint hanging on the ceiling. He was waiting for Draco Malfoy’s twin sister to trip over and cause the green paint to fall on her. The color of her snotty little house would suit her.

But that didn’t happen. He just watched her walk over the trip wire and nothing happened.

After everyone was gone, he quickly ran to check what exactly happened to his prank that he has so meticulously designed. But the next thing he knew, he was covered in green paint.

He heard someone laughing and turned around to see Y/F/N Malfoy standing there.

“What are you looking for Weasley?”

“How did you...”

“Just a freezing charm and an hot-air charm used at the right time and right place.” Some of the green paint got into Fred’s eyes, but he was certain he could see a mischievous smirk on her lips. She bent over a little, as if trying to make sure he could see exactly who used his prank back on him, “I expected better from you, Weasley.”

And then the game was on.

You two started a pranking war while everything seemed to stay normal on the surface. Sometimes Fred would win, but most of the times his pranks would just backfire on him.

Then you two started to actually hangout, like sneaking out at night to prank Mr. Filch or to hangout in the secret passages. But no one knew about this. Maybe not even George.

Fred realized that you were nothing like what he imagined. Under your cold and proud look, there was something mischievous and wild in your heart, but you hid it so well.

Then the Yule ball came around. Fred knew there was something more than friendship between you two and obviously he has dreamed about taking you to the dance. But things were never so easy between you two.

He ended up taking Angelina to the dance. They went as friends. It was basically a group thing. And you went with a Slytherin boy in your year.

But both of you thought it would be a waste if the rest of the night was just like this. You exchanged looks while dancing with your Yule ball dates and snuck out on cue.

You met up at your usual hangout place, the astronomy tower.

He smiled, offering his hand, “Y/N Malfoy, may I have this dance?”

“You may, Weasley.” You smiled, taking his hand.

He pulled you closer to him and started dancing. There was no music, but you were humming a melody you loved.

The cold winter wind brought you closer and closer. Your humming was even better than music in Fred’s ears. Everything felt just right.

And you kissed, under the starry night.

No words were needed. You could tell how each other felt through the passionate kiss you shared.

------

But you were still a Malfoy after all.

Fred swore he felt like his heart was ripped apart when he learned that you became a death eater, just like your family. He snuck into the school for he wanted to see you again before the big war hit.

“I know you don’t want to do this, Y/N. You don’t have to do this! You can run away, just run away from all of this! Please!” He pulled you into a deserted hallway and tried to scream some sense out of you.

But your expression was cold, your family’s signature distant and proud look that you put on all the time, “Who do you think you are, telling me what to do?” Your voice was even colder, “You’re just another stupid Weasley.”

There it was, you said it, the words that was going to haunt Fred for years. Even though he absolutely denied it.

And the war hit. You were on opposite sides. It was brutal. Screaming, blood, and corpses everywhere.

Fred fought with all his strength. After successfully taking out three death eaters, he saw the wall behind him falling onto him. It was too close and too late to run or cast any spell. He closed his eyes. Could this be the end?

But nothing happened. Someone casted protego shielding him from the falling wall, giving him enough time to escape. He looked around, but no one was there.

Knowing that he now owed his life to someone, he fought even harder, until Voldemort finally met his end.

From that day on, Fred never saw you again. He would still think about you of course, but he would soon try to think about something or someone else when those horrible words that you said hit him again.

He knew that you became a writer and published your memoir when people’s hate for former death eaters faded out a little. He has read your book secretly on his lunch breaks in Flourish and Blotts. The book was simply stating what happened and it wasn’t too emotional overall. But just stating the simple facts was enough to let the readers know that the Malfoy twins were not as evil as they thought they were.

All you grew up with was ideas like “pure bloods are the superiors” and “we must follow the Dark Lord”. You never had any choices and even if you had, it was a simple choice: you do what you’re told to do or you’ll get your family killed. And deep down, Fred always knew that. He sometimes would wonder could it be possible that you said those words because you knew the two of you won’t ever have a chance of a happy ending? Could it be possible that you said those words to protect him?

And one thing that definitely caught Fred’s attention was the title of your book, “Just Another Bad Guy”. The wording looked awfully familiar to him, making him wonder could be possible that you also couldn’t forget those cruel words you said to him, calling him “just another stupid Weasley”?

But he also found that you have never mentioned anything about the Weasleys in your book. Was it because you were sorry for what you have said? Or was it because that his family was too embarrassing for you to even mention?

It had been 8 years after the war now. Today, the old Hogwarts classmates decided to meet up again. It was nice seeing so many familiar faces, but Fred knew that there was just one person, who he might never see again.

The dinner party went well. People were catching up and remembering the good old days at Hogwarts. Everyone seemed to be doing well, having a steady job and even starting a family now.

Then people started talking about your book. Fred was suddenly on guard, as if he was ready to argue with or even fight anybody who was going to talk shit about you. But then he realized, what role was he playing in this whole situation anyway?

To Fred’s surprise, people were actually taking nicely about you. He was feeling almost gratified that people actually took the time to read your work. It was beautifully written after all.

“I always knew she wasn’t so bad,” said Luna, “I saw her protecting a student during the battle. Who was it though?”

Luna’s dreamy voice hit Fred hard like a bludger that he dropped his fork.

The noise caught Luna’s attention and suddenly made her faded memory resurface, “I remembered! It was Fred! She saved Fred!”

Everyone was staring at Fred now. He laughed awkwardly and replied, “Guess Malfoy isn’t just another bad guy then.”

And Fred remained rather quiet for the rest of the night. He was quiet enough for everyone who knew Fred Weasley to be worried about him, but luckily, people probably just thought that he was shocked that a Malfoy saved his life.

But George knew, even though Fred has never told him. He knew all about his twin’s little adventures with you back in school. He knew about Fred’s worries after knowing that the Malfoy’s are death eaters. He knew his brother would secretly read your book. And he knew that you were on Fred’s mind, even after all these years.

------

After the war, you went back to Hogwarts to finish your last year of school. But besides going to classes, you would just hide in your dorm and you would even eat in the Slytherin kitchen instead of going to the Great Hall to avoid seeing anyone.

You couldn’t face the students who lost their families and friends during the war. Whenever they were looking at you, it felt like they were asking you to pay. And you just couldn’t face the Weasleys. After what you’ve done and said, how could you? Those words kept replaying in your head and you already lost counts on how many nights you’ve lost sleep on that matter.

After you’ve finally finished your seven years of education, you moved to a quiet countryside. You decided that instead of trying to forget, you should learn how to face and live with those memories and that’s why you started to write them down. At first, you could only write some harmless stories from the first or second year at Hogwarts. Then when you got used to pouring your heart out through writing, you started to write about memories about the war.

But some memories you just couldn’t manage to write down, even though they were haunting you everyday. That was the memories about Fred Weasley. So you decided to not write about the Weasleys at all, pretending like you’ve never met any of them. If you never met him, then there won’t be losing him, right?

You knew that Fred was the only one who could let you be yourself, who could light that fire within you. But now you’ve lost him, you’ve lost that fire, and you’ve lost yourself.

Fortunately, with the help of time, you were getting better. Especially when Scorpius was born, you felt like you suddenly saw a sense of vitality and liveliness in your life. You wanted to teach him how to love this world, even though you were still learning. You wanted to go on so many adventures with him, even though you were still not brave enough to step out yet.

You also finally decided to organize and publish your memoir. You were still nervous, but you thought you were finally ready to try.

And this was already 7 years after the war.

------

It has been 13 years after the war now. For some reasons, Fred was the only one in the family that hasn’t got married yet. He was still working in the Weasleys’ Wizards Wheezes. Their little joke shop has already became the most popular joke shop in the entire European wizarding world with many branch stores. But Fred’s favorite was still the original one located at No.93 Diagon Alley.

It was a lovely Saturday afternoon today, so Fred decided to give himself a break and popped into the Leaky Cauldron.

But as soon as he stepped inside, the sight of a woman with platinum hair at the counter captured his attention. He knew too well who that was.

You turned around a little and Fred saw your face. You were still beautiful, he thought. But the pride and sharpness on your face, which he both loved and hated so much, ceased to exist.

Before Fred could even process his action, he approached you, “What are you looking for, Malfoy?” That was the first words you have ever said to him and he was really surprised that he still remembered that after all these years.

You were startled when you realized it was Fred, but you soon regained your calm. “Weasley,” you nodded at him, “I’m just...waiting for someone.”

He nodded, taking the seat next to you, “So how’s it going?”

“Not much,” you said lightly, “but you must've been busy, with the business going so well.”

“So you’ve been paying attention to me?” he smirked.

“I don’t have to Fred, the huge figure of you in front of the joke shop is basically screaming for attention every time I stepped into Diagon Alley.” you laughed. Fred’s heart fluttered when he heard you calling his name. It has been too long, but it felt just like the first time.

“Look what I’ve found!” a little boy was screaming and running towards you. Fred couldn’t help but noticed the boy’s platinum hair and grey eyes that matched yours. The boy showed you the fake wand in his hand and you gently combed his hair with your fingers.

“Is that your boy?” Fred asked, feeling unreasonably nervous somehow. So many years have gone by, you were 31 now for Merlin’s sake. Why would he be surprised if you have already got married and had a son.

“Oh no, this is Scorpius, Draco’s son. I’m just here to pick him up for Draco. He’s busy today.”

Scorpius clearly has noticed the man who was talking to his aunt. Suddenly, he looked at Fred surprised with his eyes wide opened and shouted, “You’re the tall, red-headed man that auntie always talks about!”

Now it was Fred’s turn to look surprised. Then he smirked, “So you have talked about me? A lot?”

“Oh please, you’re not the only ‘tall, red-headed man’ in the world alright?” you laughed awkwardly.

“So it must be just another stupid Weasley, ay?” he asked, making use of those once haunting words.

“Yea that’s right! Weasley! Fred Weasley! That’s his name!” Suddenly Scorpius shouted, finally remembered what he was trying to remember this whole time, “You’re the owner of that joke shop! Are you coming up with new products, Mr. Weasley? Can I please take a look at them?”

Fred raised his eyebrows and looked at you without even needing to state his question.

“Oh Merlin, Draco must be waiting for us. We have to go now! Come on Scorpius!” Your cheeks were flushed and you tried to drag poor Scorpius with you as you ran for the exit.

But you heard Fred saying, “I’ve missed you Y/N. It might sound pathetic I know, but I think about you everyday. Merlin, everyday for the past decade! To this point, I’m pretty convinced that you’ve put a spell on me when you left.”

You thought you could only hear him saying that in your wildest dreams. You turned around, tears were forming in your eyes. Fred was pretty sure that was the first time he has ever saw you cry.

“I’ve missed you too.”

(Part 2) Just Another Weasley

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oohnoniall · 3 years ago

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The Lantsov Emerald [Kaz Brekker x OC] - Chapter Five (Anastasia)

Warnings: cursing, fantasy violence, family drama

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Escaping the palace had been the easy part. Nikolai had shown her all the secret pathways when they were children. They had played games with them. She'd always wanted to be the fairy while he was a pirate or some sort of scoundrel. She had remembered those childhood days fondly throughout her journey to Kribirsk. If she hadn't, she would have been forced to think about the pain in her feet and the fact that she had been foolish enough to not beg her father's permission.

At least then she would've had a carriage.

Upon reaching the city, she had paid handsomely for fresh clothes and lodging. She had bathed, scrubbing her skin raw, and dressed in a plain sky blue gown. She had attempted to plait her hair by herself, although it appeared messy and uneven. Anastasia had never known just how hopeless she was until she had gone days without a bath or her lady maids.

Nikolai would have been so disappointed in her.

She was fresh-faced when she came into the bar. Her cheeks were rosy and her eyes took in every single person in the crowded bar. She had thought enough to keep her traveling cloak. There was no telling what any of the patrons would do if they discovered that the princess of Ravka stood before them.

Years of dancing and lessons in how a princess should behave made her elegant. Even in the dusty, dirty bar, she strode forward as though she was on the dance floor. Each of her movements timed to the waltz of her heartbeat. She knew that her gait alone would be cause for attention. What simple maiden walked as though the ground was a dance floor? What young woman acted as though the world should bow before her?

Anastasia had not been around enough women to know what the answer truly was.

She felt eyes on her the entire time she ordered her drink. Kvas like Nikolai had drank with her before he had gone. She had gagged and refused to ever touch any again. The smell still made her wish to gag, but she had to keep up some appearance. She took the glass from the barkeep, thanking him with a small smile. Anastasia then turned her attention to the rest of the patrons of the bar.

Most of them were her subjects. They looked hardened, as though life had done them no favors. They had lines along their features that she had not seen amongst the nobility. They looked as though dirt had encased them their entire lives. Her heart ached for them. Was there nothing that she could do? She didn't have the power to change things. That power lived with her brothers. She would never be Ravka's queen.

Her eyes landed on a small group in the corner of the bar. A boy with dark hair and a wild grin was playing with a revolver, his fingers fiddling on the hammer as though he was waiting for a reason to use it. A girl in deep, navy blue clothes sat beside him. Her features hidden by a hood and her body was nearly as still as the breath that had caught in Anastasia's throat.

At the head of their table sat the guard from the ball. His eyes scanned the room, landing on her. She wondered how many times those eyes had stopped someone in their place. He seemed sharper than he had that night. The angles of his face were made of glass and were likely to cut her if she touched them. He was far too handsome for his own good.

Without thought of her safety, Anastasia headed over to the three of them. She felt as though she was vibrating, excitement coursing through her veins as she neared the table. The man had lied to her. He had snuck into her home. She would find out why. That would be a good enough reason for the last-ditch effort for freedom.

"Mr. Vanzin," she lowered her hood as she spoke, keeping her back to the other patrons. "I've been looking for you."

An amused smile graced her features as she looked down at him. He played off the idea of being at ease, his spine straight and his eyes glancing at her as though she were nothing more than a mouse. But his hands told a different story. The black gloves he wore could not hide the way he tensed. His fingers clenched in a fist that she was certain he would not use on her. He wouldn't dare to create a scene.

"Your Highness," he sounded bored as he regarded her. Anastasia was uncomfortably reminded of most of the people in the palace. "Had I known you were serious about seeing each other again, I wouldn't have left so quickly."

The Zemeni boy offered her a chair beside him. She did not like the grin that stretched across his lips. It was as though he was one of the big cats her nanny had told her about at bedtime. She took the seat nonetheless. This would not be the first time that she had found herself in a den of lions. She dined with monsters each night. She had danced with several the night she had met Mr. Vanzin.

"I'm afraid that I was curious about you, Mr. Vanzin," she crossed her ankles, every bit the picture of a perfect princess. Rasmus would be getting a beautiful bride. "After all, it's not every day that one manages to break into the Little Palace. Nor when a guard lies directly to my face."

"I assure you," his gaze could have cut through ice, "nothing about that night was personal."

"How could it be?" Anastasia's eyes sparkled with amusement. It was like she was verbally sparring with Niki once more. He danced around the questions he didn't want to answer, made her feel as though she would go mad half the time. "You didn't even tell me your real name."

The air surrounding them seemed to grow thick with tension. The girl's hands had disappeared underneath the table while the boy was rubbing the handles of his revolvers. Anastasia would not allow them to frighten her. She would not be afraid and she would not back down.

"You're clever, Princess," his tone was filled with venom. "You should be careful. That's a good way to get yourself killed."

"Is that a threat, Mr. Vanzin?"

"Only advice," he told her before he drank the glass of kvas that had been in front of him. His eyes were dark as he stared at her. Heat flooded her cheeks but she did not let it phase her.

Anastasia had been around princes and lordlings her entire life. She had been around beautiful men and around men who had assumed they were beautiful. She had never let them phase her. She would not let this conman get underneath her skin. Even if it did feel as though she were drowning when he looked at her like that.

"You'll forgive me if I don't take it," she said, praying to the Saints that the dim of the bar was hiding her heated face. "Now, why don't you tell me who you are?"

"So you can cart us off to a Ravkan prison?" It was a valid thought. Had she been any of the other members of her family, she more than likely would have called for help. But had she been anyone else in her family she wouldn't have had to run away from her future.

Nikolai got to be the scholar, Vasily the king. All Anastasia was good for was a high bride price and to be her father's favorite pawn. Her future had never been her own. It never would be.

"I assure you," she leaned forward, strands of her hair falling into her face. "I would not turn myself in just to give you up."

For a split second, his left eyebrow rose and an expression of confusion crossed his face. It was gone before Anastasia could blink. He wore his mask well. Almost as well as those in her court. Maybe he was like her. A royal running away from a future that did not exist.

"What do you mean?" The Zemeni boy piped up, his expression more confused than the other two. Although it was more amused than anything. "Turning yourself in just means you're in as much trouble as we are."

"It would appear that way, wouldn't it?" She glanced at him, an amused smirk playing on her lips. "My family plans to ship me to Fjerda on the eve of my birthday. I'll be wed to Prince Rasmus the week after," she knew they didn't need an explanation. Nor had they asked for one. However, she needed to say something. Needed to tell someone how angry she was about the entire thing.

Nikolai was gone. This band of criminals seemed to be the next best thing.

"You decided to leave your cushy palace and come after me as a result of your impending wedding?" His face remained impassive, something that she could not read. She hated that he wore the mask of a courtier. "I don't know if I'm impressed or insulted."

"I hope it's impressed," Anastasia kept her eyes on his, not daring to back down from the demon in front of her. "At least enough to allow me to know your name."

"It's Kaz," he did not tell her his surname. She supposed it did not matter in the long run. It wasn't as though she would be spending long with the man. He would more than likely give her up before she had a chance to find Nikolai. Before she had a chance to see the sea and feel the wind in her hair.

Anastasia wished for freedom. A caged bird sang a lonely song. The song in her heart wanted more than that. It wanted to be among the greats, among the waltzes that she had adored from childhood. She wanted to live her life as she chose. If only so she could spend every second of each day surrounded by the notes, feeling the melodies in her heart and the beats in her heart. It was not a dream that any of Ravka's nobility would have understood.

None but Nikolai.

"Kaz," his name felt rough on her tongue. The syllables were brutal and cutting. Just like the man in front of her. "Perhaps we could make a deal."

"What sort of deal would you offer?" His tone was indifferent but the spark in his eyes told her that he was at least intrigued.

"I want passage. My brother is attending university in Kerch. I wish to see him a final time before I leave. I will keep the guards off of your back," she said, keeping any passion or hope from her voice. Vasily had once told her that negotiating meant selling your soul. That having too much enthusiasm would give her opponent the upper hand. Maybe he'd had a point.

"We can avoid the guards without you, Princess," she hated the way he said it. Like it was an insult instead of her honorific.

"I can also offer payment," she said almost lazily. She slipped her hand into the pocket of her cloak, pulling out a ring that should not have been in her possession.

She tossed it onto the table. The emerald sparkled in the light, the face perfect in every way. The Lantsov Emerald had been the stuff of legend when she was younger. As she had grown up, she had realized that it was nothing more than just a pretty gem. One that her parents prized above all others, but a gem nonetheless.

It was supposed to go to Vasily's future bride, but Anastasia had found it unfair. She had stolen it from her mother's chest in the dead of night. Then, she had escaped using those secret passages. She had known the emerald would come in handy. Although she had assumed it would be used to prove she was the Princess of Ravka. Not payment.

Kaz looked at the emerald for a second before he looked back at her. "I'm listening."

"The Lantsov Emerald has been in my family for generations. It's Ravka's greatest treasure. I'm offering it to you for safe passage to and from Kerch. Also, protection while we're there. I'm willing to add three million kruge for you and your crew upon my safe return."

She doubted that her parents had that much money. Or that they would be willing to pay that much for their only daughter's safety. She was ruining their plans. But she didn't care. They would ship her off without her ever seeing Nikolai again. They would sell her before she had the chance to find herself.

Kaz looked at her, his gaze was unyielding and colder than the ice of Fjerda. She wondered if he had learned to be cold or if it had just come naturally to him. Was he a monster of a man? Or a man who had become a monster? There was a story there. Something that was hiding beyond his eyes, beyond the facade he painted on. The facade that she only hoped was a facade. She didn't know what she would have done had he admitted to it all being real.

"Do you expect any of this to be easy, Princess?" He questioned, watching her as though she held a dagger in her hand instead of a valuable emerald.

"No, quite the opposite actually." Anastasia was not an idiot. She knew they would have to cross the Fold, find passage on a ship, and prey to all the Saints that she was not followed by her parent's guards. She doubted they had even noticed her missing. The Sun Summoner disappeared at the perfect tie. She wouldn't have been able to slip away without the distraction.

"We'll have to wait for a skiff," Kaz sat up straighter, almost as if to intimidate her. She matched his posture, not daring to back down for a single second. "No one knows how long that might take. A ship to Kerch will be another question entirely."

"I assure you, Kaz," the name stabbed her throat, "I am prepared to stay as long as necessary. I will not go to Fjerda without seeing my brother."

"Your brother will not be easy to find. Do you know how many rich sons have been sent to university?"

"Nikolai will be quite easy for me to find." He didn't need to know that he would have an angry prince to deal with during all of this. Once Nikolai heard of her disappearance, he would be angry. He would claim she had no idea what she was doing. That she was being reckless and stubborn. That there had been no reason whatsoever for her to leave the safety of the palace. He would have told her that she was stupid for trusting a man who had broken into their home.

She would take every second of his tongue lashing. As long as it kept her from never seeing him again.

"I will have other business in Kerch," Kaz stated as he watched her. He was looking for any sign of weakness. She knew that he would try to betray her. He would see her as another piece on his chessboard. Just as everyone else had.

She was no longer willing to be a game piece.

"I'm quite aware of that," there was no reason for her to be the only job he'd take on. Even if she was offering more money than he'd probably ever see in his life. Money she did not know if she had. "Now, do we have a deal?"

He did not offer her his hand, unlike what she had seen other men do with her brothers. She didn't know if she was supposed to be offended by the slight or not. Surely it had more to do with how he felt about the deal than anything to do with her. That or her nails were in a worse state than she had previously realized.

"The deal is the deal, Princess." She wondered if she would ever hear anything else come from his lips. Would he call her by her honorific the entire time? Or would he loosen up? She didn't think it was important enough to complain about it. No matter how grating it was to hear him use it with nothing but venom in his tone.

Anastasia picked the ring up from the table, giving him a kind smile. "You'll get this once I've been returned to Ravka, safe and sound."

Kaz said nothing, just nodded his head as she stood from the table. At least he knew better than to fight her on when he would get his payment. It was probably for the benefit of her peace of mind. If she trusted him not to slit her throat, then maybe she would be less likely to put up a defense. She didn't know for sure.

"Enjoy your night," she told the three, giving them a curtsey. Her skirts flourished around her, almost making her wistful for a night of dancing underneath the stars. "I expect to see you here tomorrow."

"Of course," he nodded his head once, looking at his crew instead of her. She wondered if they thought she was all talk. Surely a princess would run from danger instead of towards it. She should have been trapped in her golden cage with her jewels and her grand piano that she was not allowed to touch. They would assure she'd change her mind before entering the Fold.

The look on his face told her everything that she needed to know. He may not have expected her to come after him, but he knew now to expect her to back out. To do anything other than what she had said. Surely he should have realized by now that Anastasia was a woman of her word. She'd found him. She'd stolen the greatest heirloom her family had and run away from home. She had done everything that no one would expect from her.

The same things they would expect from Nikolai.

The thought nearly blinded her as she stepped into the sunlight. Had she begun missing her brother so much that she had decided to act as though she were him? He would have told her that it was a waste of her own potential. He would blame himself for making her a mirror of him. It would be bad enough to have one of them roaming the streets of Ravka. They didn't need two.

But she knew that she was not like her brother. She didn't see the world as one big game that she had to win. She just wanted to dance, to feel the music filling her veins and speaking in it's beautiful secret language to her soul. She knew it was a silly wish, one that she would never truly get to experience. She'd have to marry a man she didn't love. She would have to dance only when it was appropriate. Anastasia would lock herself up for her country.

She just needed a chance to dance before she did so.

Kerch may have been known for it's criminal underbelly, but it was the only safe place for her. She would be far from whatever trouble the Sun Summoner was bringing. She would be able to find Nikolai. Anastasia would be able to yell at him for hours at a time for not writing her back as much as he should. She would be free for the first time in her life.

As long as she did not get her throat cut or held for a ransom it should be perfectly safe.

Anastasia headed back to her room. It was not safe to dawdle on street corners. She had no idea if her parents had discovered that she was missing. She had no idea if anyone would be out looking for her. Vasily wouldn't be. He had too much to do, too much to prepare for. The time for him to take the throne was almost upon them.

He had less time for his little sister than normal. She felt as though Nikolai had abandoned her. Perhaps this unwanted isolation had been the truth behind her desperate need to flee. Perhaps knowing that she was alone, and would be for the rest of her miserable life, had been what drove her to running as far as she could from the walls of her gilded cage.

She slipped up the creaky stairs, using the gentle creaks as though they were a melody. She craved music. Craved hearing the waltzes, the symphonies. She needed it as though it was oxygen. She needed to hear every beat, feel every note. Alas, her life would not go in that direction. She would sooner end up hidden behind blocks of ice than in a symphony hall. Especially after what she had done.

As the princess entered the room she had rented, she did not notice a figure standing silently in the corner.

She took off her cloak, tossing it down on a small chair in the corner of the room. Her back was to the silent woman, never once noticing her as she began to freshen up. The day was still long, the sun having only just hit the middle of the sky. She planned on actually doing something besides make shady deals in the back of a pub.

Anastasia lifted her face, water dripping from her eyelashes. She caught sight of the woman in the mirror, her spine instantly stiffening.

"Your Highness," her voice was soft as she stepped out from the shadows. "We've a lot to discuss."

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takonei · 3 years ago

Text

Beta AU - Main story, Chapter 6, Trial (Part 3)

Note of the author: No thoughts, just imagine Tricky from Madness Combat vibing to chicken dance in front of dozens of corpses.

Chapter 6: My killing game, our killing game

...

The tears kept rolling down his cheeks. His vision was blurred, the horrified faces of his friends out of his field of vision.

Kirumi’s figure was clear as crystal, and she was still as stoic as ever.

His question did not even make her blink.

He was right. She knew what she did. And she wanted him to say it out loud.

"... May I ask why those accusations?" she asked, as calm and composed as a portrait in a museum.

But her voice. Her voice.

It sounded so dissonant in his ears now. A harmonious melody that allowed her to wrap anyone in a blanket of lies and deception, an illusion spell that only a true instigator could master.

But the spell didn't work on him anymore.

Even though he was now immune to the curse, he still couldn't look at her bright green eyes, ever so similar to those of the one person who tried to take her down with him.

"Y-You don't have an alibi for when we were investigating Himiko's death..."

"Neither do Kokichi and Miu."

... She wasn't even denying the fact that her alibi was non-existent.

"Kokichi and I, we... We saw that some of the footsteps were heels... Some were not, but someone with heels did go down here."

"Miu also has heels."

He stayed silent for a moment.

The others' mouths had been shut ever since he spoke out, and even now, they couldn't find the courage to say something. They were but helpless bystanders, ignorant about the atrocities she had committed.

"I believe you have other arguments, Shuichi. An alibi and a pair of shoes do not make one a mastermind. You do understand that."

That was not a question. It was a simple statement that confirmed one thing.

She was playing with him. Everything was a game, from the murders to their entire existences, and he was the toy she was currently messing with.

He bit down the irony of the situation.

Shuichi, the ultimate violinist, was played like a fiddle.

"T-The anterior file we saw in everyone's flashback light folders... Those were the flashback lights that made us remember our pasts before the game, weren't they...? The pasts that Rantaro had proven to us to be fake because of his scar…”

"But you...” He swallowed. “You didn't have one. You didn't have a flashback light for your past memories... You created an entire story for yourself and you told it to us like a vulgar fairytale, going as far as making your own talent reveal so no one would question anything about you after that.”

"But you knew it was fake. You knew you never lived through this. You knew that you weren't the maid and mercenary you claimed to be."

Kirumi raised an eyebrow in ‘confusion’. How was she able to make her lies and fabricated emotions look so real?!

"Tatsuya didn't have an anterior file either. Added to that, he also didn't have a character file nor a talent file like everyone else.” she replied. "Since you were so adamant about him being the mastermind."

He noticed her slightly narrowing her eyes.

Had he been ignorant about her true nature, he would have assumed this was a sign of annoyance, to be accused of such crimes.

But this look, now... It was a provocation. A challenge.

He could feel his heart beat faster and faster by the second. His former friend knew those were mere excuses to push him to his limits, but her motive was still completely incomprehensible to him.

"You were never concerned about anyone’s wellbeing during the game, but...” he swallowed. “But that changed after the fourth trial, when you suddenly 'became worried' about Rantaro... You wanted to stop him, didn't you?" he looked at her, tears still burning his cheeks. He couldn't even manage to keep his voice from cracking at every word he spoke. "You knew he was going to do something... So you tried to talk him out of it, pretending you cared even just a little about his mental health. You knew his plan was going to be your demise. That was not compassion."

"That was malice."

Kirumi paused. Her eyes seemed to widen a little, though he wasn’t sure. But her expression had changed. And this time, it was real annoyance. The kind that her stone-cold facade never showed to anyone. "... My attitude towards Rantaro is none of your concern." She spat out.

His hands held tighter onto the podium. "... Then what about the suicide rule? Is it really your concern only?"

Kaito and Miu, who had not seen what he and Kokichi had found on the computer, stared at him in both panic and incomprehension.

"Hold up, what suicide rule?!" Miu yelled, terrified.

"There's a set of rules that the mastermind has to follow... One of them says that if a death occurs, the mastermind must prevent anyone from taking their own life away for 24 hours... And after this amount of time, the person was free to end it all."

She paled. "What...? I thought... I thought they needed people to die as quick as possible..."

"But not too quickly, right...?" Kaito nervously looked at her. "Just so there can be a good trial coming out of it..."

Shuichi nodded. "The mastermind had to monitor us... To keep an eye on us. That's what the other person said in the conversation, remember?"

Kokichi turned to him. "You mean the mastermind was directly instructed to monitor us just so we don't...?" he trailed off.

"... Just so we don't kill ourselves in the dark when no one is looking.”

Somehow, those words were far easier to speak out than the ones he had to say to expose the friend who had betrayed him.

“When the colleague said to ‘once again keep an eye on someone’ after the fourth trial, it was Rantaro. There is no questioning that he was the second person the mastermind had to monitor.” Shuichi explained. “But the first person they had to keep an eye on..."

"... Was none other than you, Kokichi."

The smaller guy's eyes widened. "What...? Me? But... She never... Kirumi never talked to me in private! She never asked me how I was feeling or anything like that!"

Shuichi shook his head, shutting his eyes down.

"She didn't need to. All she needed to do was to keep an eye on you... After the third trial."

Kokichi glanced at Kirumi, whose eyes were closed, her icy gaze kept unseen.

"What... What are you saying? After the third trial I... I..."

He trailed off. Though he refused to admit it, he knew exactly what Shuichi meant.

After he witnessed Himiko's dead body, learned that he was partially responsible for her death and listened to Angie's morbid words, Kokichi had been emotionally devastated. That was a memory he could not ever forget. His empty eyes and laughter... It was someone who had sunken into madness.

Fortunately, they had managed to pull him out of the darkness just in time, but had they not been here right away, he could have ended up like...

... A certain someone.

Shuichi slightly raised his head, looking at Kokichi with regret.

"She stayed in front of your room that night. Waiting, making sure you didn't try to take your life away, for the sake of the game. I don't know how you were holding up at the time, but let me guess... You never actually tried to commit the act, did you?"

His friend could only stare, horrified.

"I... I didn't..."

"If you actually did, she would have made herself known. She would have knocked, talked to you, gotten someone to do the job... Anything so you wouldn't end it all before those 24 hours."

He still couldn't bear looking at Kirumi, but he knew she had her eyes on him.

"... And what makes you think I am the one who kept an eye on him? As you said, it was at night. It could have been anyone."

Ironically, he had discovered the answer before the question itself.

All this time he thought he was holding a lock, so he kept searching for a key to fit in. But when his eyes landed on the mastermind’s rules, he realized. The entire time, what he had in hand was not the lock.

It was the key.

"... The doors of our rooms are soundproof."

"The only way to hear what's happening on the other side is if you stand right next to the door. Even with a good ear like mine, it is hard to distinguish the sounds and guess what is going on inside. But the morning after the third trial, you said something to Kiyo that stood out to me. You said, and I quote..."

"Check Kokichi’s room. I heard sobbing last night."

"That always seemed strange to me. I know I did shrug it off soon after, but there is absolutely no way you could have known about that... Unless you were right next to his room."

"At first, I assumed you just took a walk at night, happened to pass in front of his room and heard him, but... You were never here by chance. You were exactly where you wanted to be, back against the door and listening to him to make sure there wouldn't be an unnecessary death right after Angie's execution."

"I'm right, aren't I…?"

...

Kokichi was appalled by the revelation. He turned to Kirumi, horrified. "I-Is that true...? Kirumi...?"

She didn't answer, and simply closed her eyes.

Shuichi wasn't sure if it was frustration or fear growing inside him. Perhaps it was both.

"Answer him!!" Miu slammed her hands on the podium, breaking the silence with a cry of desperation. "Are you the fucking mastermind or not?!"

Kirumi turned back to Shuichi. "May I ask..."

"Is this truly how you came up to the conclusion that I was the villain of the story?"

She stared intensely at him.

He despised the challenging look in her eyes. How could she find this even remotely amusing?

"There is something else, isn't there? I have been familiar with this face of yours for long enough to know that. You are still hiding things."

He opened his mouth, but nothing came out.

"Actually, don't answer. I already know.” Kirumi broke eye contact, looking at nothing in particular. She then glanced back at him. “It's the reason why you were so silent during this trial, after all."

"You knew something else that you do not wish to tell us, or rather, tell them."

"It was the final piece of evidence, for you. The one that made you connect all the remaining dots. A very explicit proof about who was pulling the strings all along. But now, you think that if you say it out loud, the rest of the courtroom will get mad at you for refusing to admit it. And thus, you are making this trial last longer for no other reason than your denial."

"A trial in which I, may I remind you, had to guide you all so you could finally tell the truth.”

Shuichi's heartbeat was going haywire. He wondered if anyone was hearing it, too.

Kaito glanced at him. He looked betrayed, which stung him a little. "Shuichi... You knew this...?"

He lowered his head, gripping his podium even harder.

"I..."

He whispered. His eyes briefly met Kirumi’s, but not more than a second.

"I heard you when you were in Rantaro's room."

...

There was one place Shuichi needed to go to.

He glanced at the dorms building where Kirumi had supposedly gone to.

He needed to get there. He ran as fast as he could to avoid any possible damage.

Shuichi immediately closed the door behind him, and the ruckus outside became less loud. But the silence of the dorms was not that much more reassuring.

His eyes drifted to the different rooms, now all empty, as their owners were either dead or investigating. However...

... He noticed one door was slightly opened.

Rantaro's.

He swallowed and approached the room.

...

"Rantaro..."

"You truly were something else."

Shuichi jumped. That voice, he knew it all too well. It was Kirumi's. Frowning, he gently placed a hand on the door and listened.

"You were the one I was the most curious about. When you entered the room, that day, I knew you would be the best adversary I could ever ask for."

Was... Was she really implying that...

"Ignorance is bliss, as they say. I do wonder how things would have gone had I decided to lower your intellectual capacities just so I could remain the true mastermind of this killing game."

...

No…

Kirumi...

Kirumi was...

"Whatever the case... You beat me at my own game by succumbing to madness. It shouldn't have ended this way. But it did, and regrets were never welcome on this battlefield.”

"I unknowingly wrapped strings around your wrists and tossed you around like a ragdoll, and you were not even able to defend yourself."

"But you didn't cut those strings. You kept weaving them into a horrid and unrepairable mess."

"Something neither I nor anyone else including yourself could untangle, and you were well aware of that."

"Anyone in this position would have hopelessly tried to tear apart the strings of control and break free. But you... You kept this link between us alive because you knew you could defeat me this way."

"You pulled me by the strings and dragged us into hell where we belong."

"I can still feel your grasp even now, and if I have to be honest..."

"... It terrifies me."

"..."

"No. You do not deserve hell."

"You were not an angel, far from it. But you were no demon either."

"Just a lost soul wandering in a labyrinth of madness."

"I am praying that the God who has welcomed you in the afterlife had mercy on you and decided to free you from this nightmare."

"As for me, the judge of this killing game, it is my role to compensate for my defeat and the unfairness that caused your demise."

"Your wish... I shall grant it. I hope you will be with us for this, Rantaro."

"I'm dedicating this trial to you."

...

Shuichi had slammed his hands against his mouth, eyes wide and trembling. He didn’t want to succumb to fear, but it was already too late.

He came here to get answers, a confirmation that she wasn't the mastermind, but...

He should have expected this. So why...?

Why do things have to be this way?!

Why did it hurt so much?!

...

This couldn't be real. This had to be a lie.

She... She wasn't the mastermind. Not the Kirumi he knew.

There was no way.

She was just as much of a victim as everyone else here.

There was no way she was the mastermind. It had to be someone else.

He would talk to her, and everything would be fine.

Everything would be fine.

Everything. Would. Be. Fine.

…

After what felt like an eternity, he found the courage to quietly open the door.

...

"... Y-You admitted it." Shuichi muttered, voice shaking.

"I was right behind the door, a-and... You said it. You said that you were the mastermind of the killing game. You said that- that Rantaro was a wonderful adversary... That you were the judge of the killing game and… and had to compensate for his death… You..."

"You..."

He swallowed.

"… You're the mastermind. You're the one who orchestrated this killing game."

The silence had settled back, and he despised every second of it.

He looked at Kirumi again, at last, and...

She smiled.

"Finally."

"Quite the evolution, isn't it?"

Her damn smile. Why... Just how did it feel so sincere...?

"I am glad I didn't have to do the reveal by myself. That you were able to face the truth."

"But I understand. The truth hurts. It eats you from the inside until you're nothing but an empty shell. I may have been a little too harsh with you on this. Though I do think it was necessary if we wanted to go forward with this trial."

"Unfortunately, neither Miu, Kokichi nor Kaito would have been able to expose me, so of course, you were the one who ended up doing the dirty job.”

“I do have to respect you for this, though. I don’t think-

"SHUT UP!!"

Shuichi yelled, slamming his hands on the podium with tears falling off his eyes.

He couldn’t contain the growing rage inside of him anymore. She was speaking so casually about every single atrocity they had faced.

She had killed his friends. She had killed eleven people who didn't deserve any of this. Not a single bit.

From Gonta to Rantaro, everything was her fault.

All those trials, all this stress, misery and paranoia he's been enduring those last three weeks, it was all because of her. And she was not even remotely sorry about it.

He wasn't going to let himself get stepped on anymore. Not by this wicked woman, not by the sadistic bear nor by anyone else. He had been in her grasp for way too long, and his entire being needed to compensate for his foolishness.

"I've had enough of this bullshit, Kirumi!! What do you want from me?! I didn't do anything to you, I talked to you like a friend, I liked you knowing that you were not someone completely innocent, I even defended you at times and I talked to you about everything!! Don't speak to me about betrayal and digging up truths, you have no idea how it feels!!"

"Were you happy knowing you were the only person I could talk to all this time?! Were you happy that I became dependent on you?! I kept so many secrets from Miu, from Kokichi, from Kaito because I thought you were the one who could understand me the most! I distanced myself from them those last few days so we could try to understand what was going on with Rantaro, the person I was completely afraid of but did my best to help!”

“Rantaro may have been completely crazy and hopeless at this point, but at the very least he wasn't nearly as much of a horrible person as you were all this time!!"

Shuichi paused, taking several shaky breaths.

"Do you have any idea how I felt after Rantaro tried to kill me just because I put a hand on his shoulder at the wrong moment...?"

He touched his neck, gently tracing the line where the cold blade had been with two trembling fingers.

"I want to know, Kirumi."

"How did you feel when I told you about this, the dawn after the fourth trial?"

...

The silence was deafening. He ignored the shock on the others’ faces. He knew Miu was the most aghast at the revelation, but he couldn’t keep the secret to himself and that dirty traitor anymore.

That was not a rhetorical question. He genuinely wanted to know.

But one could only wonder what kind of twisted thoughts were running through the mastermind's head.

Through Kirumi's head.

She was as cold as a statue. A tall figure of pale and polished marble that contrasted greatly with the dark and twisted soul residing inside.

"... I did feel a little bad about it."

"Of course, I did not learn anything from our discussion, but I was surprised that you decided to tell me about the incident."

"To be standing on the clear boundary of life and death... I am not familiar with the feeling, but a part of me wishes I were. Of course, I have no idea how it affected you on a personal level, but I did witness the consequences of Rantaro’s actions on you.”

"Is this the answer you wanted?"

...

Shuichi stayed silent.

And then… He let out a broken laugh.

"... You're a monster."

"And I am not denying it."

Kaito visibly did not like that response. "And you’re just admitting it like it’s nothing?! Are you proud of what you’ve done to us?!"

“Are you actually proud of this entire killing game?!” he exclaimed.

"You are going to have to be more specific.” She said. “To make you all go through horrible experiences for my own personal gain? Not really. I may be a monster, but I do have morals.”

“Organizing the killing game, masterminding everything from both backstage and the scene itself, without being discovered by neither the participants of the killing game nor its audience?"

Kirumi smirked. It was the smile of a witch, truly fitting the puppeteer she really was. She raised a hand, putting her thumb on her middle finger.

"... Pride is a word way too weak to describe this feeling."

With a snap of her fingers, something fell out of the ceiling. It seemed to look like a microphone.

"I believe we've been chatting for way too long." she said as she caught the item without difficulty. She placed a finger on a small button on the handle and pressed it. Two circular metal plates now covered the sides, making the tool look like a hammer.

Kirumi span the microphone around her fingers with the incredible dexterity she has shown to them multiple times throughout the game.

"The scene is about to end, so let us enjoy a short intermission, shall we?"

With another click of a button, the handle of the microphone extended, changing it into a pedestal.

“I suggest you four to mentally rest while you can, as I am not intending to make another intermission after this one. Thereupon…”

She firmly gripped the microphone by the top like a cane.

“Let the grand finale begin!”

She slammed it on the ground. And on impact, everything went black.

...

The silence was making him feel sick from the tension it radiated. He wanted to say something, but he wasn't even capable of muttering a single word.

He jumped when a powerful voice struck his ears like a lightning bolt in the quietness of the night.

"Ladies, gentlemen, and all our noble friends from all around the world..."

"I believe now is the time to put an end to this grand show."

"Three weeks have passed since the beginning of this killing game. Three weeks of sorrow, anger, fear, grief and despair... All the spectrum of human emotions at your disposition."

"On act one, the sacrifice of selfless individuals in a race against the clock."

"On act two, the tale of two lovers, dancing twinkles of hope extinguished by fragile trust.”

"On act three, the fall of a martyr, an innocent soul turned into a macabre work of art by the twisted mind of a fallen angel.

"On act four, the theatre of misery, a battle confronting emotions and knowledge at the bottom of hell."

"And on act five, the irrational battle of a resigned soldier and a broken hero who fell into the deepest madness."

"This season has once again given chills and thrills to the fans, though some, alas, are still disappointed that their undying thirst for despair is left unquenched."

"Tonight, on act six, we finally put an end to all of this."

"Tonight, we put an end to Everlasting Dissonance, the 53rd season of Danganronpa, the legendary show that has been reuniting countless fans of murder mystery for decades now.”

"I put my blood, sweat and tears into this game, to satisfy those unspoken desires of yours. As a payback, I shall ask one single request of you all.”

“Please, my dear friends…"

The light came back, the four innocents illuminated by the white spotlights on the ceiling.

Shuichi had his head turned to where her voice was singing this tragic tale of theirs- where Monokuma was sitting during the trials.

A fifth spotlight lit up, revealing the bear standing on a floating platform, and behind him was the ringleader sitting on her throne of lies, legs crossed, with an outfit drastically different than the one she had a minute ago.

A white shirt beneath a sleeveless grey vest. On top of those was a green tie with a simple silver clip. She was wearing dark blue pants and grey, elegant high heeled boots. On the side of her belt was a tiny white ribbon, similar to the ones European judges were wearing on their collar. Her necklace was still there, wrapped around her neck, loyal to her as always. Her headband was gone, but she now had a grey hairpin that looked like a bow on her left side, keeping a strand of hair together.

But what stood out the most was the black judge coat she was wearing like a cape, silver shoulder pads keeping it in place, linked together by a chain.

She wrapped her fingers around the microphone. With the inviting gesture of a TV host, she smiled, and a booming voice echoed loudly through the courtroom.

"... Enjoy the show!!”

#ndrv3 #danganronpa v3 #beta au #ndrv3 au #main story

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horansqueen · 4 years ago

Text

You & Me : chapter 42

A Niall Horan fanfiction ; rated MA

Sequel to AM CONVERSATIONS

CHAPTER 1 || CHAPTER 2 || CHAPTER 3 || CHAPTER 4 || CHAPTER 5 || CHAPTER 6 || CHAPTER 7 || CHAPTER 8 || CHAPTER 9 || CHAPTER 10 || CHAPTER 11 || CHAPTER 12 || CHAPTER 13 || CHAPTER 14 || CHAPTER 15 || CHAPTER 16 || CHAPTER 17 || CHAPTER 18 || CHAPTER 19 || CHAPTER 20 || CHAPTER 21 || CHAPTER 22 || CHAPTER 23 || CHAPTER 24 || CHAPTER 25 || CHAPTER 26 || CHAPTER 27 || CHAPTER 28 || CHAPTER 29 || CHAPTER 30 || CHAPTER 31 || CHAPTER 32 || CHAPTER 33 || CHAPTER 34|| CHAPTER 35 || CHAPTER 36 || CHAPTER 37 || CHAPTER 38 || CHAPTER 39 || CHAPTER 40 || CHAPTER 41

NOTES:

-one chapter is her pov, the next is his -4.4k -im sorry, i never proofread, i hate it. -there WILL be smut. but not only smut. -this is a romance, comedy, smut story. -for the summary, check my MASTERLIST.

READ AM CONVERSATIONS AGAIN ON WATTPAD HERE

- notes: i hope you enjoy this! i really hope its worth a read! please send me requests for the few chapters left. i have the last chapters totally planned and they cant really be changed, but i can add a few things in them. as for the next few chapters, just send me anything you want for them!

if you want to be on the list of blogs i notify when this is updated, just message me :)

requests! : i changed it a bit i hope its ok! i used an other request for the chapter but it was part of many requests in the same ask so im not adding it in case i use the rest too. basically, it says “Louis being upset at losing his roommate”

TAKE A LOOK AT THE CHARACTERS HERE

Chapter 42 : Her chapter

OLIVIA

May 21st, 2018

I was happy that Dylan hadn't asked Heidi to be there the next day since we were about to film the scene I feared the most. Niall had a few things to do but he told me he'd join me a bit later on the set. If I wanted to be honest, though, I was sort of happy he was not there, if only because this scene was going to be tough to play and knowing he would be there when I was filming it would make me even more nervous.

I jumped slightly when someone knocked at the door and walked to it with a frown. I had decided to eat in my dressing room if only to be alone and try to get back in those horrible feelings I had when Niall broke up with me. I remembered the rain, I remembered running away, I remembered the way he was looking at me and the way my heart twisted in my chest, feeling like it was stuck in a vice. I remembered the tattoo I had just got of a heart around his name, on the skin of my back, and how much it seemed to burn. I remembered running to Louis and crying with him. I remembered everything of that night. It was so vivid I felt like I would never forget. I knew this memory would never be blurry, I knew I'd remember every fucking second of it for the rest of my life.

When I opened the door, Dylan looked up, and my heart skipped a beat when I realized how vulnerable he looked with his sad eyes and his hands in his pockets. I was used to the confident and funny man who had been my rock for so many months. Now he looked exhausted and hurt.

"Can I come in?"

I nodded and licked my lips, moving away to let him in and I closed the door as he turned around to face me. We remained in front of each other just staring in each other's eyes until I moved my arm to show him the couch.

"Please, sit."

We kept silent for a few more minutes after sitting down and all I could hear was my heart thumping against my rib cage. I didn't know why he was there and I didn't want this conversation to turn bad. I knew what kind of person he was though and I knew it would most likely not end up in screams and insults, but he was with Heidi now, and I knew what she was capable of.

"I'm sorry, Olivia." he finally let out with a sigh before rubbing his eyes. "I'm sorry for bringing Heidi here yesterday. I mean, I didn't even invite her she sort of... invited herself. But that's not the point, I mean I knew how you felt about her and I promise I didn't do that to piss you off, or make you uncomfortable."

My lips parted and after a while, they curled slightly. "I know, don't worry about it." I just shook my head a bit. "But Dylan, are you serious? I mean Heidi? Really?"

"Does it bother you?" he asked with a sad smile as he looked up.

"No, it doesn't. You can date whoever you want it's just... I'm surprised. After all you said about her... After all we said about her." I corrected myself. "Just be careful okay?"

"Liv," he chuckled, raising his eyebrows. "I'm not gonna marry her. She just... eases the pain, I guess. Some sort of a rebound."

"Basically, you two fuck."

This time, he laughed and leaned against the couch. "Pretty much." he shrugged and put his gaze into mine, his smile faltering a bit. "She's no you, but she's not bad looking when naked."

This time, I let out a loud laughter that made him smile more. "As long as she keeps her mouth shut, maybe!"

"Yea, that doesn't happen often, unfortunately."

I laughed again and rolled my eyes before tilting my head and pressing my lips together, staring at him some more. "I'm sorry I hurt you, Dylan."

"No, I'm sorry." he lost his smile and closed his eyes for a few seconds before moving closer and leaning his elbows on his knees. I frowned, a bit stressed about why he was acting like that but when he sighed again, I held my breath. "I'm the one who told her. About you and Niall. I told her you cheated on me and that I said it was okay, and she asked when it was and she just.. connected the dots. It's my fault she made that instagram shit. I hope you can forgive me."

I swallowed hard still looking at him. I couldn't really blame him and I was a bit surprised that I didn't think that he could be the one who told her, especially after seeing them together a few days before. It was so obvious now and I mentally slapped myself for being an idiot.

"Done." I just replied with a small smile. "Anything else I can help with? World Peace? Starvation in third world nations? Anything?"

He laughed and sent me a small smile as I became more serious. I didn't want us to be on bad terms and yes, it felt weird to think that only a few weeks ago, we were supposed to get married, but we both needed to move on from that.

"Heidi and I we just... bonded over the fact that we felt betrayed, and we were sad and hurt, you know? We won't spend our lives together. I don't have feelings for her I'm just.. trying to move on."

I stared at him again, keeping quiet for a few minutes, not wanting to say something wrong. We had had good moments together, and I couldn't pretend I didn't miss him but at the same time, I didn't miss the love relationship we had. I was with Niall and no one else made me feel like he did. No one else ever did make me feel like Niall did, not even Dylan, whom I was ready to marry.

"I really hope it works, Dyl." I sent him a fond smile, tilting my head. "You deserve the best."

----

May 22nd, 2018

What woke me up in the middle of my nap in the afternoon was a soft piano melody and before my eyes even opened, my lips curled into a fond smile. I put my pants on and got out of bed, following the music and yawning a bit on my way as I tugged at my hair. When I entered the living room, Niall looked up and sent me a smile as he kept playing and finally licked his lips, taking his hand away from the keys and raised his eyebrows.

"How did sleeping beauty sleep?"

"I don't know about her," I started with an other yawn. "but I slept very well, thank you."

"I was talking about you, silly!" he chuckled. "You sleep all the time, and you're beautiful. This is now officially my new nickname for you."

I raised my eyebrows and my lips parted as he laughed. "If you call me that, I'll start calling you Neil."

I smiled when I saw him grimace and finally sat next to him on the small bench, facing the piano. I've always wanted to play and at the same time, i loved watching Niall play. If only I could be as talented as he was in something... anything, really.

"You're so damn good, I swear, I'm jealous."

"My piano skills are pretty basic."

"Lies!" I quickly replied, turning my head to look at him and raising my eyebrows. "You always say that and we both know it's bullshit." I turned back to the piano and placed my hands on the keys as if I knew what I was doing. "Here's a little something I can play for you.”

I let an amused smile appear on my lips and finally used just two fingers to play a short song on the piano, missing one or two notes as I did. When I turned back to him, he was smiling big, trying not to laugh.

"Is that 'Take Me Out To The Ball Game'?" he asked, unable to stop a chuckle from escaping his mouth. "Played with literally two fingers?"

"Don't laugh! I taught myself that."

He started laughing anyway and I raised my nose up, pushing his upper arm with mine and making him laugh even more. He smelled good and he looked gorgeous. I was trying not to think about the fact that he was leaving in a few days and when I looked up at him, he licked his lips.

"Do you want me to teach you?"

My lips curled into a happy smile but I tried to hide it by pressing them together before nodding. He chuckled and proceeded to take my hands and placed them over the keys. I tried to listen to his instructions but my mind drifted away after a while as I looked at his fingers slide gently on the keys for a while before my eyes moved on his arm and up to his chest and his face. I stared at his lips moving for a few seconds before blinking a few times as I tried to get out of my thoughts.

"Are you sleeping again?" he asked, raising his eyebrows with a smile.

"No... no I just..." I shook my head and chuckled. "Play that song. The one you had in hands in my dressing room. You said you needed a piano well there's one. I want to hear you sing."

"I was teaching you how to play darling." he pointed out, making me tilt my head.

"Play Niall, please."

He stared at me and I felt my heartbeats accelerate. I couldn't believe I was here with him and that he was looking at me like that. After a while, he just nodded and licked his lips before his fingers glided on the keys again.

"Maybe we are the champagne lovers Lay in the dark, we are stargazing now Well, I don’t like it.

Rolling the dice just to feel the thunder Deep in the heart of a downward spiral Falling, we’re falling.

We should twist the knife Put it all to bed, I Need to understand what it takes to love again

So come on love me when the lights burn low Meet me underneath the sheets Cause you got a hold of me baby, enough to pull me back in deep.

You used to love me when the lights burned low Now we’re tearing at the seams We‘ve both had enough of this, baby, so promise me that when you leave You won’t say you’ll come back to me.

Maybe we are the perfect strangers Only the stories left on paper now And I don’t like it.

We should twist the knife Put it all to bed, I Need to understand what it takes to love again

So come on love me when the lights burn low Meet me underneath the sheets Cause you got a hold of me baby, enough to pull me back in deep.

You used to love me when the lights burned low Now we’re tearing at the seams We‘ve both had enough of this, baby, so promise me that when you leave You won’t say you’ll come back to me.

Come back to me You won’t say you’ll come back to me."

I felt a tear roll down my cheek and swallowed the lump in my throat with difficulty. Silent came back in the room and slowly, I brought one of my hands to his cheek, brushing my thumb on it gently. I loved how some of the lyrics really fitted us, and I couldn't explain how perfect it was. He knew how to add things in songs that were only obvious to us two, and I needed to learn how to do that, because when it came to writing my tv show, I knew it was more and more obvious with time that it was based on my story with Niall.

"Those lyrics about the sheets..." I just whispered before licking my lips and sniffing.

"We've been hiding under the sheets since we were kids." he explained even if I already knew what it meant. "Just you and me, in our world. And now I realize that it was our world because you're my world."

I started seeing blurry because of the tears in my eyes and blinked again to let them slide down my cheeks. He brought his hand over mine on his face but his eyes never left mine.

"You're so full of shit, Horan." I just replied in a whisper with a small chuckle.

"I mean it." he quickly murmured before I pressed my lips against his.

He kissed me back deeply and his arms wrapped around my waist, pulling me closer to him. His lips parted against mine and he panted, making me whimper low. I let my hands slip under his shirt and I thought he was going to laugh at how impatient I was but instead, he moved slightly away, his lips still against mine.

"I'm gonna fucking miss you."

"How many times are we gonna tell that to each other." I whispered back, sliding my hands up his chest.,

He pulled away a bit to stare in my eyes and something twisted inside me. "I don't know, petal. Now too often I hope."

I pulled his shirt off and let it fall on the floor and I kept my lips pressed against his as he got up slowly, grabbing the hem of my shirt and taking it off too. He turned me around slightly, both his hands on my waist and when he kissed me harder, I leaned against the piano without thinking, hitting a few keys and making an horrible sound. We laughed against each other's mouths and I felt him pull my pants down, along with my panties. I wiggled slightly to take them off and pushed them away from us as I moved a bit and hit a few keys again but higher notes this time.

"Clumsy ass." he whispered with a chuckle.

"Hey it's your fault." I argued in a low tone before smiling wide.

I reached for his pants and unzipped them and when he took a step back, my eyes fluttered as I started at him. He took his pants off and when he pulled his boxers down, my lips parted slightly. I watched him sit back on the bench as I stood between him and the piano and he brought his hand to his dick, stroking it slowly. I ran my hand to my breasts as I stared at him and felt my heart jump in my chest at the sight.

He brought his free hand between my thighs and I propped one of my feet on the bench next to him before two of his fingers ran on my slit. He was staring at what he was doing and I let out a low whimper as his thumb found my clit. I was already turned on but feeling him touching me while looking at him touch himself was amazing and I licked my lips, moaning slightly louder.

"I just want to sit on your cock."

He let go of me but I noticed his fingers pressed harder around his cock as he looked up at me and it only took him a few seconds to make a quick head movement.

"Turn around and sit on me."

I felt my heart jump again and slowly did what I asked. I felt him spank me once as I held myself on the piano to sit slowly on him. His hand reached my right side as his left hand positioned his dick and I closed my eyes as I felt it slowly get deeper inside me until I was sitting completely on him.

"Fuck, bend down a bit."

I did as he asked, holding myself on the piano again and making an other unpleasant noise as I hit different keys. This time though, he didn't laugh. He ran his hands on my back, pushing on it gently again and he finally held my waist to help me move up and down on his cock very slowly, watching it slip almost completely out of me and then back inside me as I sat back on him a few times until he was balls deep.

"I fucking love watching my cock disappear in that pretty little cunt of yours." he admitted in a low tone before groaning low. "Fuck me, petal. Harder."

I started going harder as he asked and I tried to grip the piano with my fingers to get balance, my fingers making an annoying sound as they slid on it. My lips parted and I held my breath when I felt him push his thumb in my asshole and I let out a curse word, my movements faltering a bit.

"Don't you fucking stop." he just let out, spanking me with his free hand. "Nothing I want more than to cum deep inside you, pet. I want to feel you clench around me. Fuck, you're such a perfect little cumdump."

I held my breath at his words, feeling my whole body throb at the way he dirty talked to me, a bit surprised but aroused by his words. I was thinking about touching myself when I felt his arm slither around me to reach between my legs as the thumb of his other hand was still fucking my ass.

"You're gonna cum so hard, yea?" he asked, rubbing my clit and making me clench around him in motion. "All over my cock?"

I felt my eyes flutter and my head fell back slightly as I started shaking over him. He brought his arm around me to hold me against him as he kept rubbing my clit hard and fast and when I started cumming, he pushed me up slightly and started moving his hips up against me to reach an orgasm too. He only kept his tip inside me as he came and his fingers sank on both sides of my waist as he groaned loud.

"Fuck."

One of my hands fell on the keys again and I shut my eyes tighter as I got down from my high slowly. I felt one of his hands carress my back and he tapped my butt gently to incite me to get up, I felt his cum fall and when I turned around, some of it slid on my thighs while I bit my bottom lip, looking at his cum mixed with mine on his thighs.

It took him a few seconds to get up and he bent his head down to reach my lips with his. I heard the few notes from the piano as he kissed me and I chuckled against his mouth, making him smile.

"Loved it." he let out low with a smirk. "We literally just composed the best song ever together.”

I laughed and shook my head a bit, my lips brushing against his. "Yea, I don't think it's gonna be a hit." I admitted with an other laugh.

He laughed too and started kissing me slowly but deeply again until we heard the doorbell and both jumped. We both smiled and chuckled at the same time before the bell rang again and someone starting hitting the door quite roughly. I quickly rolled my eyes, knowing exactly who it was. and Niall frowned at me until we heard the voice.

"OLIVIA! I KNOW YOU'RE IN THERE!" he yelled, making me laugh and roll my eyes. "PUT YOUR PANTS BACK ON AND COME OPEN THE DOOR!"

"Why does he always get here when we're naked?" Niall asked, making me laugh.

"Hey, it's Louis, I expect nothing less." I pointed out as I was putting my pants back. "I'll go see what he wants, you get dressed."

I put my shirt on as I walked to the front door before swinging it open and sending a big smile to my best friend. He opened his arms wide and it took me only half a second before throwing myself at him. He held me close and I buried my face in his neck as I felt his head lean gently against the side of mine.

"So glad to see you, my queen. I missed you." his voice was low and his words seemed sincere. I could hear emotions in his tone and it made me smile as I gripped the back of his shirt tightly.

"It's been weeks." I just let out, making him squeeze me tighter against him.

"Who's fault?"

"Mine." I confessed in a murmur. "I'm sorry it's just... Niall..."

"Yea I know, I was the same the first few months I was back with El."

We remained silent for a few seconds but when I felt Niall's presence close to us, I felt something melt inside me, like him being close made me emotional.

"Okay Tommo, let go of my girlfriend now."

I chuckled and pulled away, my lips curling more when my eyes met Louis'.

"Oh yea, I saw the video at the airport," Louis laughed, nodding. "Told you it was just a matter of time, right Neil?"

"Right."

My boyfriend groaned but didn't add anything and I moved to let Louis walk in and close the door behind himself. He was so close to me I felt his body heat emanate from him. Niall wrapped his arms around me from behind and I felt him lean his chin on my shoulder. Instinctively, I leaned my head against him and it made Louis roll his eyes with a laugh.

"Alright, double date tonight, we're going to eat, and maybe a movie or something." Louis let out quickly. "Non-negotiable, be ready in two hours, I drive."

He winked at me before turning around and opening the door he had barely just closed and walking quickly to his car. Niall and I both watched him start the car and drive aaway and after a while, I chuckled low and shook my head.

"He's so annoying." Niall admitted, mumbling under his breath.

"Oh come on, it'll be fun!"

Niall seemed to think for a few seconds and finally raised his eyebrows with an amused smile. "Okay, but you wear a skirt."

I rolled my eyes and laughed again, just shrugging. "Deal."

---

The restaurant was crowded and suddenly, I was scared people would take pictures and videos. I tried to push that thought away and tell myself it didn't matter but at the same time, I knew Niall liked to keep most things private so I tried not to touch him too much. I felt his hand on my naked thigh and smiled, pressing my lips together as I tried to ignore it.

"What are you wearing exactly?" Louis asked with a frown, leaning a bit against the table. "Is that a necklace with my friend Neil's face on it? How old was he back then? 12?"

"Funny." Niall let out sarcastically. "It's a gift from a fan and she won't take it off."

"That's a proof of love, Niall. Embrace it."

Eleanor rolled her eyes with a chuckle and I just laughed a bit. I looked at them and lost my smile suddenly. They were such a perfect and beautiful couple and it was a shame it had just hit me. I started wondering what people thought of the couple I made with Niall and I felt a bit nervous.

"We haven't done that in a while." Eleanor pointed out, taking a sip of her wine. "I know you've both been busy though. How's tour going? Not too hard being away from each other?"

"It's..." Niall started shaking his head.

"Hell." I finished his sentence.

He turned his head to look at me before nodding slowly. "Exactly. But we manage."

And we did. It was not easy but we loved each other enough to actually want this to work and we both put effort into it. I knew Niall wouldn't always be on tour, and I wouldn't always be filming either. At some point, we would live together almost every day and I seriously couldn't wait. I could write from home, and he could do the same, and I knew it would go very well.

"Niall also asked me to move in with him!" I announced with a huge grin, raising my eyebrows. "About to move my stuff soon!"

I saw Louis' face change and he looked down at his plate before clearing his throat. "Really? When are you moving?"

I frowned when I noticed the emotions on his face but simply licked my lips. I didn't want to cause a scene, and I was not sure of how he felt, but knowing Louis, he was probably going to talk to me about it.

"Probably mid june, it's the only time Niall has a few weeks off. Then he'll be on tour for 3 months almost non-stop." I admitted, swallowing hard at the thought.

I didn't want to be away from him and at the same time, I didn't know if I really should follow him everywhere. I didn't want to be that kind of girl anymore but wanting to be with my boyfriend was not being needy, right? I also didn't really want to stay alone in his big house the whole time he'd be gone. It sounded quite sad.

We started discussing old memories, mostly those from the last tour, and I would roll my eyes when Louis would mention how bad I supposedly had it for Harry. I was pretty sure he knew I was in love with Niall even back then but he was trying to get a reaction out of Niall and I couldn't pretend I didn't find it a bit entertaining. Every time Louis would mention a memory of something romantic or sexual between Harry and I, Niall would squeeze my thigh without really realizing it.

I got up to go to the bathroom after a while and when I got out, Louis was waiting for me, his side leaned against the wall.

"Why are you always waiting for me next to the bathroom." I asked with a chuckle.

"I missed you, you know. I missed my best friend." he pointed out, ignoring my question. "And now you're gonna move in with him for the very first time and, I don't know, I feel betrayed."

I took a step closer to him and shook my head. "Louis, you were already supposed to be with Eleanor, remember?"

"That was when you were supposed to marry Dylan."

I tilted my head and sighed, licking my lips. "I know you hadn't changed your plans. I mean, you were going to live with El either way, and it's okay." I just explained. "I want to try it with Niall. I want it so bad, Louis. But we'll always be close, you and I. I think I need you more than you'll ever need me."

"One day every week."

"Mm?"

"I have to see you at least once a week." he specified. "Sometimes with Niall and El, sometimes just us two, but once a week. I'm not losing touch, you hear me?"

"I hear ya." I smiled and tilted my head.

"Good." he nodded, staring at me for a few seconds. "Are you sure you're ready for that? Moving in with Niall, I mean. It's not gonna be easy."

"I know. But I'm sure." I let out firmly. "He's my soulmate. He's always been. And apparently, I'm his soulmate too. Life couldn't get better than that."

#niall horan #niall horan smut #niall horan fluff #niall horan writing #niall horan fanfic #niall horan fan fic #niall horan fanfiction #niall horan fan fiction #niall horan story #my fanfics #yam

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ecbenvolio · 3 years ago

Text

Antique (Affectionate)

“This is all junk,” says the man I presume to be Lev of Lev’s Pawnshop and Antiques, a man who buys junk for a living.

My heart drops.

I’d rounded up my most prized possessions in hope of collecting enough money to make the month’s rent. This was my last resort.

....

GiGi was a bitter old soul, but I loved her I guess. A trained concert pianist, she lost a good deal of her hearing in the war. I was never sure which war. Or how she ended up in a torn-down rural town like this one, produced my mother and uncle before becoming a thrice-divorced widow.

When I was young, she took care of me while Mother worked the night shift. We watched game shows on a fuzzy screened television and she fed me microwave meals. I would complain that they were cold in the middle and she would throw her hands up in frustration.

“These are not the hands of a cook,” she would tell me and I would silently agree.

GiGi tried her best to teach me piano, but with her hearing the way it was it was a difficult task. And she was not Beethoven. After several frustrating attempts, she would push me off the bench and begin to play her old favorites from memory: Mozart, Debussy, Elton John.

At this point, it would be late at night and the neighbors in the apartment would bang on the walls in protest.

“GiGi,” I’d yell “Quiet!”

But I think she took that as a challenge because she would play louder and louder. I learned to fall asleep with my head in her lap and Clair de Lune ringing in my ears.

Then one day, GiGi fell and everything I knew started to crumble. Mother and Uncle decided they didn’t have time to take care of GiGi and put her in a senior home. Senior homes are expensive, I guess because they sold the piano to make it cover the cost.

That was the first time, I’d seen GiGi cry—after she tried to strangle my uncle.

....

“So here’s the deal,” Lev says, “I’ll give you 10 for the TV and 15 for the microwave. Everything else is worthless. But I can take it off your hands for a disposal fee of 25.”

I decided I did not like Lev of Lev’s Pawnshop.

“I’m not a fool,” I say “That leaves me with nothing”

“It’s the best I can offer you” he leans on the counter.

My hands tighten around my bag, and I feel the shape of my tur last resort beneath the fabric. I look at Lev, if that even is his real name, and wonder if he really robs people for a living or if I just look that vulnerable, that lost.

I sigh. “You’re sign says you also buy antiques. Well, I have an antique.”

I pull the item from my bag and Lev’s eyebrows rise.

A music box.

It’s an intricately designed piece of art, not a box in form but more of a stout cylinder. On the outer layer are carved stars and moons encased in their own frames. The top is designed with a golden model of the summer starscape. The inside is layered with the mold of an angel. In the bottom piece, another metal figure of an angel stands straight in the center, its head tilted toward the heavens.

I wind up the lever on the back of the music box and let go. There’s a slight pause, then the notes of Clair de Lune fill the shop.

The shopowner’s dull eyes light up and he snatches the music box from my hands. He pulls the pair of glasses that were sitting on the top of his head down to set on the end of his nose. Unlike the previous items, he handles the music box with care.

“Now this,” he says, “This is beautiful. Don’t tell me—you found it at an estate sale? Another pawnshop?”

“It’s none of your business where I got this from” I cross my arms and tilt my head, “You seem pretty interested.”

“What can I say? It’s a decent piece of junk,” says the man that sells junk for a living. “Pre-war, ya’know?”

I want to ask which war but that question would really steer things out of my favor. Don’t want to sound young and unknowledgeable.

“It belonged to a concert pianist.” I explain “She played in grand performance halls in the city. Until one day, during a concert, they were bombed.”

Lev scoffs, “Who plays a concert in the middle of a war?”

“Who attacks civilians in the middle of a peaceful gathering?”

“Ah. So it was that war.”

...

“It was absolute chaos,” GiGi tells me as I sit at the foot of her bed in the senior home. I’ve heard her account of the bombing of the Grand Hall dozens of times. I could recite it by heart. It doesn’t get less distressing. Yet it’s the only story she tells these days.

“I barely made it out alive. But I did. And you the song I was in the middle of playing was—”

The nurse aide knocks on the door, interrupting to bring GiGi’s lunch. Which means I’m about to get lunch. It’s a silent arrangement between GiGi and me. The home staff thinks that she only eats when I visit. But truthfully, I choke down the bland sandwich and mushy vegetables and leave her to drink her tea and eat cake in peace.

“I lived on less during the war,” GiGi would complain loudly.

(“If she doesn’t start eating better, we’ll have to set up a feeding tube,” They told the family. Mother shrugged “Do what you have to do.”)

When the nurse aide returns, GiGi is nibbling on her cake and receives exaggerated praises for how well she’s eating.

We share a look.

She’s frail. That’s a fact. Somedays, I wonder if I’m no better than my mother and uncle in how I treat her. But every time, before I leave, GiGi takes my arm, looks into my eyes, and says “You are my heart. Don’t forget that.”

And that’s how I know I’m doing something right.

...

“Great story,” Lev says, “Your execution could use some work, but I’ll tell you what: forget the microwave and the tv. I’ll give you 75 for the music box. Cash.”

Oh. Well. Seventy-five is exactly what I needed to make rent. It was just what I needed except—

“That’s a pre-war family heirloom. Two hundred.”

Lev laughs. We don’t do negotiations here, but I’ll humor you: 85.”

“One hundred seventy-five.”

“Ninety.”

“One sixty.”

“Eighty-five.”

“You’re going in the wrong direction!”

“Tell me who you stole this music box from and I’ll give you 150. Cash. Best offer.”

“I didn’t steal this,” I huff, “It’s mine.”

Lev isn’t convinced. “Take the offer and I’ll tell you where music boxes like this come from.”

“I don’t need you to tell me. It’s from my GiGi.”

“Your...GiGi…?”

I throw my hands up, “My grandmother!”

Lev’s face morphs into a sneer, “Now I know you’ve been lying. Take the offer or get out of my shop. We’re closing soon.”

He sets the music box in the middle of the counter with a resolute thud.

There’s a moment where I think about it. I consider taking the offer. But I shake my head. No. No.

I snatch up the music box, shove it in my bag and go, leaving the rest of the items that I’d brought to sell.

“Goodbye, Lev, if that’s even your real name.”

....

“Are you happy?” GiGi asks me.

She’s staring out the window of her room at the senior home, absently stirring her tea. At first, I wasn’t sure I’d heard her. It’s odd. Normally, GiGi is very loud. It was as if she wasn’t sure she wanted to know the answer to my question.

I fidget from my spot at the foot of her bed. “I’m...ok,” I answer. Because why would I burden her with my problems? I’m not the one whose children forced them into a home and sold away my most prized possession.

“Ok?” she spits back. “I don’t know what that means. OK. I asked: are. you. Happy?”

I look away. “Are you happy, GiGi?”

She laughs. It’s a deep sound, full of sarcasm.

“Your GiGi is as happy as she’ll ever be these days.”

“Well, then so am I,” I answer finally.

“That’s no good!” She sets down her tea, then grabs her walker and moves to stand. I tell her to sit down. I’ll get whatever she wants but she swats me away. GiGi slowly makes her way to the dresser on the other side of the room and pulls open the top drawer. From the drawer, she retrieves a bundle of cloth. She takes it and hobbles back to her chair.

“Here.” She thrusts the bundle at me. For a moment, I stare in disbelief, thinking that she had just thrown her laundry at me. But there was some weight to the bundle. Something is inside.

I carefully unwrap it to find a finely detailed sort of container. The outside is enveloped in the raised designs of suns and moons and stars. I slowly turn it around in my hands and run the tips of my fingers over the beautiful lines and curves. Then, gently I open the container to find a just as colorful and detailed inside. There’s a figure of an angel at the center of it all rotating as music starts to play.

It takes no more than a second for me to recognize the song as Clair de Lune. It’s a much softer and sweeter melody that I remember from my childhood.

I look at GiGi expectantly, but her eyes are closed, hands stretched in front of her and fingers playing along with the notes of the song.

I’m happy as I’ll ever be, she had said.

The music box slowed to a stop, but she kept going. Humming the notes along and playing her own personal concert.

....

I found myself humming the notes of Clair de Lune on as I made my way home. The music in my mind did nothing to keep out the anxious thoughts that bombarded my mind. What was I going to do about rent?

Asking Mother was out of the question. Uncle barely had a dollar to his name and he wasn’t going to share it with me anytime soon. If only life was simpler. If only it was like it had been in the past when I was young. All I had to worry about was going to GiGi’s for the night and picking through cold microwave meals.

As soon as I got home, I went to bed. I grabbed the music box and settled under the covers on my futon. I wound up the music box as far as it would go and set it by my head. The familiar notes of moonlight pull me into a deep sleep.

GiGi was a bitter old soul, but she loved me, I guess.

A former concert pianist, a war refugee, a mother, a grandmother. GiGi was many things. She lived to instill in others a love of music and survived each time someone tried to take music away from her.

She always said she’d leave everything to me when she passed. When she did, I inherited a music box.

I inherited the music box.

...

In hindsight, I should have known. Or maybe I just wasn’t listening closely.

In the middle of the night, I get out of bed only to hear a loud thud followed by a few unmelodious music notes. In a panic, I turn the light. At the sight before me, I close my eyes and sigh.

The music box is laying broken at my feet. I gather the pieces in my hands. The hinge popped off leaving the lid detached and the angel figure is bent at 90 degrees.

“No, no, no” I mutter. My sleep-clumsy fingers attempt to force the contraption back together. Slow disjointed notes of Clair de Lune curl into the air.

It was hopeless.

Even the bottom was falling out of the thing. A sort of morbid curiosity makes me pull at the loose piece until the bottom of the music box is completely removed. As one would expect there are the guts on the music box. But shoved in next to the playing mechanism looked like folded paper?

I pick at it with my fingertips. Could it be a note? A letter?

No.

I drop the music box again. This time though, it lands on the futon along with the paper I pulled out.

It’s...money. Bills. Cash. I counted it up, hands shaking. There was enough to cover rent and more.

Your GiGi is as happy as she’ll ever be these days.

And maybe it’s time for me to be happy, too.

#writing #writeblr #creative writing #antique #my writing #short story #writing prompts #clair de lune

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artnerd1123 · 4 years ago

Text

A Familiar World

Shopping Day (pt 1) ——————————————-

With her newly acquired shopping responsibilities, Seraph hits the town to buy what’s needed. Though the task is daunting, Seraph is optimistic and determined to do a good job! She even meets a few friends. The only trouble comes when her budget of time and energy starts running out...

The masterpost for AFW can be found here. The chapter post for AFW can be found here.

——————————————-

so this is a two parter, but it’ll have a chapter in the middle! I’m actually really surprised at how quick I finished this, but, nevertheless, here’s another installment for ser n evangel! with bonus appearance by an old oc- brownie points if u recognize them :>

The first shopping day was like any other. Outside was warm, the fading heat of summer chasing fall’s heels. The sun was bright. The town was bustling. What birds were left in the trees sang along with the sirens’ autumn songs. It was a beautiful September afternoon. And a certain familiar was doing her best to remember where the shop was. It wasn’t that Seraph hadn’t explored the town with mama! They’d been living there almost a year now. She just didn’t go out on her own very often. Which was ok!!! She just had to ask the people she passed where to go, and they’d tell her. She was a friendly little hybrid. People here were nice. So, the shop came into view soon enough. Seraph pushed open the door as best she could, the bell jangling to signal her arrival. She practically skipped inside, eyes wide. One hoof clutched her grocery list tight. The other held a pouch of gold slung over one shoulder. She held it in place with her wings. Looking around, she did her best to take in the shop. The store clerk sat at the counter. They were a weathered individual, a shock of brilliant green hair laced through with stripes of white. Their grassy gaze moved about the shop with an air of practiced ease- one long used to looking after their home. The clerk glanced up with a smile when the bell rang… only for their grin to falter when nobody caught their gaze. Seraph watched them blink for a second, face flushing. Ah, right. She was a lot smaller than the normal customers. Should she have announced herself? “Er… down here,” she said sheepishly. The clerk’s gaze drifted down, and they blinked again. Seraph gave them a little wave as they recovered. “Oh! Oh, hello there, little one,” they replied, a bemused smile on their face. It seemed her earlier guess was right. At least they were still smiling at her! “Are you looking for someone?” “Nope! I’m by myself,” Seraph chirped confidently. “I’m here to get the groceries for my mama!” “Ah, a pickup?” The clerk asked. They nodded towards a couple baskets sitting on the counter, their little labels written in neat handwriting. Seraph tilted her head in thought. She didn’t think Evangel wrote ahead for groceries… that’s what her list was for, right? “Well, if me picking food from the shelves counts, yes,” Seraph joked. The clerk chuckled softly. The sound made her smile. She liked that sound, it was a good sound. A happy sound. “I guess that could count,” the clerk mused, “but it’s not quite the same.” Looking her over, they set their head on one hand. Seraph was doing some looking of her own- it wasn’t often she came to the shop. She wondered if mama would let her grab some cookies… she wasn’t here, so it would be ok if she bought some on her own, right? Maybe? Hmm… maybe she should’ve asked… “Is this your first errand, little one?” The clerk spoke up. Seraph jumped a little, bleating in surprise. “How did you know???” Seraph gasped. “I had a hunch,” the clerk winked. “If you need any help, just give me a holler and I’ll be right over.” “Thank you so much!!! I’ll keep that in mind!!!” Seraph beamed. With that, the little familiar turned and skipped down the nearest aisle. She looked over her list carefully. Mama trusted her with this. She’d written it very carefully. There was no way she’d let her down. She had this in the bag! The familiar trotted over to a shelf of cereal happily. Her eyes carefully searched the shelf for the oat cereal mama took a grudging shine to. This is perfect! She thought, still searching. Now all that’s between me and home is gathering the- Wait a minute. Was… was the oat cereal on the… top... shelf…? … groceries… oh dear… “... hey, um, clerk?” Seraph called nervously. She waited a minute, and didn’t hear a reply. Maybe she was too quiet. Or maybe she wasn’t supposed to be disturbing them? But… she had to try something. Mama was counting on her. She trotted back to the mouth of the aisle, coins jingling in her pouch. The clerk was lazily eyeing the door, still leaning on the counter. “Excuse me… um…” she cleared her throat. The clerk glanced up, straightening a bit as they located the voice’s source. “Ah, you’re back,” they hummed. “Can I help you, little one?” “Yes please, if that’s ok, Mx. Clerk,” Seraph said meekly. Her wings shifted to hug her shoulders, braced for a scolding. “I… um... forgot I’m not tall enough to reach a lot of the shelves yet…” However, the scolding never came. “That’s ok! Fetching things off shelves is my specialty,” the clerk smiled. Their cheer was a surprise, but Seraph was instantly relieved. “I’ll grab a basket, and we’ll go grab what’s on the list, ok?” “Ok!!! Thank you so so much!!! I-I really appreciate it!” “Not a problem, little one. Not a problem.”

When she arrived home, giant basket in hand, Evangel’s joy was instantaneous. Seraph beamed, happily helping put things away as Evangel chattered about how much work she’d gotten done, and how happy she was that Seraph managed the shopping. When she methodically checked the purchases, she only complained a few times- that the cereal was too plain, and the familiar forgot to get some tool she didn’t remember mama saying she wanted. But!!! Everything else was there!!! So it was good enough, right? Evangel even told her she’d “done well.” That had to mean something. Mama’s praise was like music to the little familiar’s ears. Maybe shopping day wouldn’t be so bad after all.

~~~

The fourth shopping trip came sooner than Seraph would have liked. Usually, mama went grocery shopping once every week. She’d decided to stick to the same schedule. After all, mama knew what she was doing. Or… so she hoped. But it was barely even three weeks later, and she was toddling to the store for the second time that week. You just run out of everything fast when someone tiny does your shopping. The clerk was a big help, as they always were. Grocery shopping was a lot more fun with a friend. Especially one who was so funny! She and the clerk had started playing games and making puns while they collected the things on her list. She liked hanging out with them. Plus, they teleported the groceries right home for her! Free of charge! She promised them she’d start carrying the basket home when she was big enough. No matter how many times she promised, the clerk just smiled at her, giving her a pat and a mint from the bowl on the counter. Yes, she liked the clerk. But the clerk wasn’t the only one she was out to see. Mama had trusted her with another important errand. Mama said she needed to find the musician’s shop. There was a music box being sold there, and mama wanted it. She just hadn’t had the time to go get it! Seraph could understand that- their little tailor’s shop was getting more business now that the weather was cooling down. Lots of people needed new winter clothes or old cloaks mended. Mama was busy. And mama needed something to help calm her down. Music could definitely do that. At least, it helped for the familiar. Seraph wove between the legs of passerby on the street, squeaking out little apologies as she eyed the tall shop signs. Music store, music store… where had mama said it was? A bit farther down from the grocery store, if I remember right, she thought to herself. Sure enough, a sign for “musician’s oasis” sat proudly along the road. Seraph sighed in relief, quickening her pace to reach it. The sign was pretty well kept, and very nicely polished, with interesting little symbols all over it. If memory served, the symbols were music notes. She’d seen them next to illustrations of sirens in her library books. The thought of being somewhere with song excited her beyond words. Turning to the door, she waited until the entry cleared before wiggling into the shop. A peal of bells and strum of strings signalled her arrival, making the little familiar jump in surprise. “O-oh-! Oh dear-” she sputtered. Her wings huddled around her shoulders protectively. Where had that sound come from??? She looked around timidly for the source. … though… it was all but forgotten as she took in the space around her. Seraph’s eyes were like sparkling gems as she glanced around the shop. It was full of nothing but shining metal, masterfully carved wood, expertly pulled strings, and all manner of beautifully strange contraptions. A word sprang to mind- instruments. Her books and their pictures told her they were for making music. Just like the sirens she went to the cliffs to hear. Her ears flicked forward eagerly, claws clicking on the wooden floor as she moved further into the shop. Sure enough, she could hear some sort of rhythm coming from somewhere among the instruments. Music. Not the same as the sirens, but familiar nonetheless. She had to see what was making it! She had to! It didn’t take her long to find the source. It was some sort of stringed instrument. Like a bow and arrow, but with a dozen strings instead of just one. A harp, if her books were right. One of the things the angels on the pages played often. It looked as if invisible fingers plucked the gilded strings. The sight was utterly fascinating. But not nearly as much as the music. It was gentle and soothing, like listening to ripples in a pond. Seraph was utterly transfixed. So, this is where it came from. Those soft melodies she heard when she was half asleep in the morning… the ones that came from down the street instead of from the sea… Oh, how lovely… “Did you need something, sweetheart?” At once, seraph snapped out of her thoughts. Her head jerked up at the sudden voice. A stout woman with long, curly blonde hair stood before her. She had a big witch’s hat on her head, and a comfortable looking dress, half hidden by an apron. Despite her kind blue eyes, Seraph felt her stomach drop. Oh no- oh no- mama told her not to go poking around places! Her face flushed, and she squeaked as she scrambled for words. “U-um- maybe- i- s-sorry, was I not supposed to be back here-?” She stuttered, wringing her hooves. “I-I can go back to the front, s-sorry, I didn’t mean to-” “Hey, hey, it’s ok little one,” The woman broke in gently, holding up a hand. “You’re welcome to wander anywhere in here, hon. It’s alright.” “R… really…?” Seraph mumbled. “Yes, really,” the woman smiled. Carefully, she crouched down to the familiar’s level. “You just looked a little lost. Are you here alone?” “Y… yeah… I am,” Seraph replied shyly. “I’m running errands for my mama...” “Ahh, you must be the little Sanyi familiar!” the woman beamed. “I’ve seen you around in the tailor shop windows. It’s nice to meet you, dear.” “O-oh! Er- thank you!” seraph squeaked. Her? She was glad to meet her? She… didn’t know what to think of that. She twittered shyly to herself, kicking at the floor. “E-ehehe… thank you…” “Of course, dear,” the woman hummed. “Oh- where are my manners! I’m Sadie, dear. I’m the shopkeeper.” “It’s nice to meet you, miss sadie!” Seraph chirped. She did a little curtsey, her eagerness slowly trickling back in. “Do you run this whole place by yourself…? It’s so lovely in here!” “Well, thank you, dear!” Sadie laughed. “I run this shop with my husband. Usually he’d be here with me, but… well…” She chuckled softly. “Someone needs to watch the baby.” “The baby?” Seraph gasped softly, eyes wide. She was still a kid herself, but the prospect of a playmate excited her! Or just another little one. She had such a soft spot for the little ones. “Ah, you might see her one of these days, if you come by again,” Sadie said. “She’s napping now, I’m afraid. But! While you’re here, was there something your mama wanted you to fetch?” “Aww… ok…” Seraph sighed. “A-and! Um! Yes, sort of! Mama sent me to buy a music box!” “Oh, she did?” Sadie asked, looking surprised. A flash of confusion passed in her gaze, and seraph shifted nervously. “Is, um, n-now not a good time…?” she asked meekly. “Ah- no, that’s not it, sweetheart,” Sadie soothed, giving her head a little shake. “I’ve just never seen a familiar your age doing more than quick fetch quests.” “Mama says I’m old enough to help with the shopping,!” Seraph reported proudly, wings fluttering. “I like to help, and she trusts me!” “Hmm… fair enough,” Sadie replied hesitantly. She heaved herself back upright before Seraph had time to share her unexpected worry. “What sort of music box did she want, dear?” “O-oh! She wanted the one with the gold embellishments, and the dancer in the middle!” Seraph chirped. “The shiny one in the window!!!” “Ooh, a good choice! Let’s see- I believe it’s back this way, we had to move it off display to polish it…” Seraph bounced after Sadie happily, her worries forgotten. The shop’s gentle melodies drowned out any concern or memories of Sadie’s hesitation. After all, she was on a trip for mama. And mama sent her somewhere amazing. Surely it all worked out, right?

When Seraph returned home, mama was still swamped with work. She gave her a quick bit of praise- “ah, yes, the groceries, very good- could you put the music box on my desk, doll? And do make sure you put everything away right this week, especially the frozen things, it was all disgusting last week-” before getting right back to her sewing. Seraph would’ve been a little put out if she hadn’t just come from the music store. The melodies were still floating around in her head… painting lovely pictures in her mind… It was enough to keep her going even as she put away the groceries on her own.

~~~

The eighth shopping trip came the week before an important day. Well, important to seraph. It was October again. Today was the tenth. In three days, she’d officially be a year old. The thought excited her a lot!!! She’d heard from Sadie’s familiar, foffee, that birthdays usually meant growth and change for a familiar. Nothing incredibly drastic- at least not after your first few years. Seraph was hoping it gave her some height. It would be nice to be a bit taller. It meant she could help more. Plus, she’d seen birthday parties before! It would be so fun if she had one!!! She bet her mama was planning it. Party plans had to be somewhere among all those papers and notes on her desk. Why else would she be so flippant and want Seraph to stay away from them? Why else would she keep asking for her to go elsewhere and leave her be? It had to be a plan. Even if it was just something simple. Like sweets for breakfast, or a trip to the music shop. Oh, she couldn’t wait!!! Her heart was full as she bounced down the street. Groceries were first, as per usual. The thought of being able to carry her own basket soon made her so excited. She told the clerk as much when she entered. They were as delighted as she was! The two bantered with their usual puns before they parted ways. On her way out, the clerk gave her an early birthday cookie and a promise of discount sweets after her big day. After that, she skipped down to the fabric stall in the marketplace- they had some sort of new silk that mama really wanted. Every stall was filled with a merchant today. Plenty of people were out shopping. The cliffs were close, and the sirens’ final fall songs laced through the buzz of marketplace chatter. With all the bright colors, smiling faces, and upbeat energy, Seraph felt like she was floating on a cloud. Oh, she wondered if mama had gotten her a gift… each stall full of toys and pretty dresses made her beam in anticipation… Finding the silk was easy enough. The stall was full of people looking for just the right patch of fabric, or the new material for a cloak. Seraph snuck her way into the crowd. Her two feet of height was useful at the moment- she could get into all manner of places easily. Now, where did it go… she wondered, eyes searching the fabrics laid out on tables. Her eyes caught on the brilliant white silk after a moment or two. A happy bleat bubbled from her as she bounced over, tail wagging and wings fluttering. Perfect!!! It was perfect!!! Just what mama asked her to get! She reached for it carefully, little hooves only pausing when she realized she didn’t know how best to carry what she needed to the merchant. She frowned in thought, foot tapping on the ground. She was so deep in her planning that she didn’t notice someone come up behind her. “Need some help?” a voice asked. Seraph perked up instantly, a grin rising to her cheeks. “Sadie!!! Hi!!!” seraph chirped, waving a hoof. “That would be nice, thank you!!! What brings you out today?” “It’s no problem, dear!” Sadie replied, gathering some silk into her arms. She continued as Seraph told her how much to take. “I’m looking for something soft I can use to make a new onesie. Molly Lily’s outgrowing all her comfortable onesies, so I need to whip up a few new ones.” “Aww, that’s fair! I bet they’ll be so cute!!!” Seraph giggled. “Better make it something she can move in, too!” “Oh, of course,” Sadie laughed, starting towards the merchant. Seraph followed, making sure none of the silk spilled from Sadie’s arms. “You know my girl likes to move.” “She really does! I always like seeing her!” Seraph hummed happily. “Well, you could come by and say hello today, if you’d like,” Sadie offered. “I know your birthday is in a few days, but we do already have a bit of baking done in preparation…” “Really???” Seraph gasped excitedly. “Yes, really,” Sadie chuckled. She set the silk down on the counter, calling the merchant over. Seraph held up her hands for a boost- Sadie gladly gave it to her. The two made sure the silk was paid for and teleported home before the conversation resumed. “If you’re done with your errands, you can come by the shop to say hello and grab a snack!” Sadie continued. “We’ve made plenty of cupcakes, and Molly Lily’s already had her nap. I’m sure she and foffee would love to see you!” “That sounds so good!!!” Seraph beamed. She thought it over for a minute. She was done with her shopping, right? Groceries, silk… she’d gotten the week’s candles earlier, and the mail, too… Right, yeah. That was everything. It was all at home now, too. Surely mama could put things away herself. And mama didn’t say she needed her at the shop today. So… it should be ok if she went with Sadie for a little. She bet mama would be fine with it. The familiar gave a decisive nod, wings flapping eagerly. “Yeah, let’s go!!! It’s playtime!!!”

When seraph wandered back home, it was around dinnertime. Before the time she usually ate with Evangel, of course! She didn’t want to miss that. Though she’d stayed out longer than she’d wanted, the little familiar was still happy. Her tummy was full of cupcakes, her ears full of laughter, and her mind full of playful memories, stories, and more of that lovely music. She wondered if mama would let her bake cupcakes at home. It sounded like so much fun! She’d ask once she went inside. Or, at least… she meant to. She didn’t have the chance to say much of anything the moment she stepped in the door. Evangel stood right in front of it, hands on her hips, her face twisted into a distressed grimace. It was a look Seraph didn’t see often. But she knew exactly what it meant. Oh no. Oh no. She’d really messed up, hadn’t she? “Seraph! Where have you been?!” Evangel demanded. “I’ve been waiting for you for hours!” “I-I- I just w-went to the neighbor’s house-” Seraph mumbled, quailing under Evangel’s accusing glare. “You should have come back to the shop, not gone somewhere else!” Evangel broke in with a scoff. “Half the frozen food has spoiled because I haven’t had time to put it away! Not to mention the silk is horribly wrinkled!” “I- I’m sorry mama- I- I didn’t mean t-to-” Seraph whimpered. She could feel herself tearing up. She’d really really messed up. “I p-promise I’ll come right back home n-next time-” “I would hope so. What kind of familiar leaves their mother to fend for herself?” evangel sighed. Her look of lament shifted to one of discomfort as she noticed Seraph’s tears. “... oh… and now I’ve upset you…” “M-mama-” Seraph said hastily, scrubbing away her tears. “Wait- I-it’s not your fault, I’m the one w-who was late- I was j-just- I lost track of time when we were playing-” “I guess I can understand why you’d want to go somewhere else, then. I’m upsetting and I’m not fun,” Evangel sulked. Heaving a long sigh, she turned towards the steps. “I’m so sorry I’m not enough for you, Seraph.” “Mama, that’s- that’s not what I mean!” Seraph cried, running over and hugging her leg. “You’re so so good mama! I-I just lost track of time! I’m sorry, I won’t be late again! I’ll be good, really!” “... mmm…” “I promise, mama. I won’t leave you.” “... ok, Seraph. If you say so.” Evangel was still for a moment more before she reached down. She scooped seraph into her arms. She held her close, bouncing her with all the gentleness of a precious porcelain figure. “I won’t leave you either, doll. Not once. I was just worried for you, and for the shop. You know I love you,” Evangel soothed. “I… I know mama…” Seraph sniffed, taking some deep breaths. “I love you too…” She snuggled close to her mama, sighing softly. She promised herself she’d be better about times. There was no need to worry mama like that. Not again. “How about we put away those groceries, hm?” Evangel asked. “We can read a book afterwards, if you’d like.” “A book?” “Whatever book you’d like off the shelf.” Seraph gave Evangel a small smile. “That sounds great, mama. Thank you.” “There’s my happy little doll...”

~~~

The ninth shopping trip came late. Seraph meant to go out on the fourteenth. She’d marked it on the calendar. She’d gotten a list ready. She’d chosen an outfit. Everything in her wanted to go. But when her birthday came the day before, mama hadn’t said anything. Instead, the two had worked. All day. Stocking the shop, helping customers, organizing orders- even manning the register while Evangel slipped out for some emergency frozen dinner food. Seraph fell asleep curled around the music box from Sadie’s shop during the evening rush. Mama gave her a scolding, and sent her to bed early, because she was tired. When she woke up in the morning, she didn’t feel right. She was drowsy. Sluggish. She felt as ravenous as a wolf, and as sleepy as a sloth. Evangel just left her upstairs with a box of old swan feather boas, dyed wool, and scraps of gold trim. She muttered something about how familiars get all droopy after their birthdays, and how she hoped seraph liked the feather colors, and hoped they did her some good. Seraph didn’t know what to think. When she finally managed to get her energy back up, the week was almost out. She was shaky on her feet- she hadn’t moved much. It was a little awkward trying to find something that fit, too. She’d certainly grown some in her post-birthday slumber and chow fest. She was a little under three feet tall- almost a whole foot taller than she had been earlier. Getting used to it was… challenging. But mama needed her to go out. There were so, so many errands that needed done. She was a year old now. She couldn’t let mama down.

The twentieth was the day she went out. The clerk asked her out her birthday went. She just gave them a smile, said it was ok. She did her best to joke around. The clerk didn’t need to know she was tired. She needed to do this. For mama. The marketplace was full again. She had a lot of stalls to go to. Each merchant was kind, but she barely processed their words. Her smiles were like glass, and her gaze as warm as a forgotten blanket. Everything she couldn’t carry she had them teleport home. The rest was in her arms. Carefully, gently, she carried the basket of groceries, the fabrics, the paper, the pens, the tightly sealed ink bottles, and two new books. All of it for mama. All of it going home. When she got there, mama only spared her a glance. A nod. And a sentence, to tell her to put it all away, and that she’d done well. Seraph had done well. Tired as she was, she tried her best to cling to that sentence. She clung to it like a moth to a lamp, or moss to a rock. She didn’t let it go through all the organizing and assisting. She didn’t let it go as she went to bed that night. Mama told her she’d done well.

That should be enough for the familiar.

#afw chapter #afw #a familiar world #my story #arty writes #seraph sanyi #evangel sanyi #im not gonna tag the bg extras bc LSDKJFSLKF no #amyway #this was an excuse to write cute baby ser and also show evangel being The Worst (tm) in the bg #next part will be fun :)))#but h yea heres this #enjoy

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imagine-loki · 4 years ago

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Pride and Prejudice

TITLE: Pride and Prejudice CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: Chapter 54 AUTHOR: wolfpawn

ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine Loki was raised on Jotunheim as Laufey’s son after the war, but an agreement was then made that he would wed Odin’s daughter so Odin could secure the alliance of Jotunheim through the marriage. Loki, in turn, was raised to be king of Jotunheim, but how he views Asgard is far different from how Odin’s daughter is raised leading to a clash of cultures as well as uncertainty between the pair of betrothed youths. RATING: Mature NOTES/WARNINGS: Forced Marriage, not all fun and games. My first real step back into the Loki scene in over a year.

I had a chapter ready for this but it just did not make sense in the overall story so I had to rewrite it. I apologise for the delay.

The amount of comments I have received this week have really fed my inspiration to get my ass in gear and write. Thank you for them. The more I get, the more I love to write.

Tags - @skulliebythesea @asimovethroughthisworld @blackcherry26-blog @we-shadowhunter2901

Loki and Ella smiled politely as person after person walked towards them. All through it, Ella whispered the names of those who were coming towards them to ensure there was no chance of the Jotnar making a mistake and embarrassing themselves.

Her parents watched silently as their daughter and her husband dealt with the newcomers and different realms peoples. “They seem so alike.” Odin frowned at his wife’s words and looked at her. “They are like two dancers, working with one another in a peculiar melody. Look how Ella uses her seidr to speak with him, telling him who everyone is. Sh starts the conversation to make him feel comfortable, then he takes over. The care he is taking of her, look at how he checks on her.” Frigga studied the pair. “They have grown as beings. He cares for her now.”

“He has changed.” Odin acknowledged. “When I was last here, when our daughter nearly died, he looked like he would rather walk on fiery coals than stand near her.” “Now he seems to wish to be in her company and nowhere else.” Frigga watched as Loki beamed and indicated to Ella’s stomach, which was, much to Frigga’s dislike, being shown very obviously to be carrying a child. In Asgard and Vanaheim, women did not declare their pregnancy, they simply kept dressing as they did before but with slightly bigger shawls to cover them. Their hair was tied back off their faces, declaring their marital status but her daughter wore tighter more revealing dresses and her hair loose. She disapproved entirely of it all but seeing the Jotnar women, especially those who they were told were carrying children, they seemed to declare their conditions proudly. It was peculiar to her but seeing it to be commonplace, as a royal who visited many realms, she knew better than to comment on the cultures of other realms. She thought Ella would not be overly comfortable in such a situation, but looking at her daughter, it was clear she was entirely at ease with everything.

“If only it was like this from the beginning,” Odin sighed.

“They needed to learn who they are first. Together, they are growing.” Frigga smiled slightly. “We went through something similar, if you recall?” “I did not almost kill you.” Odin pointed out. “I did everything I could to make you feel at home. I ensured you had company when I could not be with you and I most certainly did not make you feel as though your mind was in such a dark place that it had your seidr trying to fight it only to have it fight your very existence.”

“Ella is not like any other, Odin. Her seidr is so strong. None other would have been so affected.” “That is not a valid argument for this and well you know it,” Odin growled. “Her seidr being so strong is all the more reason to be more careful of her.” “I know you want to keep her safe, but I fear that you forget, she is not the small little girl that loved sitting on your lap learning to play Tafl anymore.” Frigga pointed out. Odin grunted in annoyance as his response. “Is that what it is? That she has grown up? Is it making you feel old?” “Says she who was not entirely pleased to hear she is a grandmother because she thinks it makes her sound old?” Odin scoffed. “I am not angry she has left home. I prepared myself for such from the day Eir stated she was a girl, but everything that she has been through, everything we all have been through, and for to be so strong and for that to happen. She was born too early, her sickness, that attack on Svartalfheim…” “You will never forgive yourself for that, will you?” Frigga sighed, shaking her head. “You need to cease being so concerned about something that happened centuries ago.” “She pleaded to be trained and I dismissed it. ‘What reason would she have to know such things’ I said. She would never need it. If she had not been so proficient with her abilities with seidr, she would have been sliced apart. If she had not learnt spells to heal others, she would have died. I would have had to light my daughter’s funeral pyre. When she got ill as a child, I swore to protect her but I failed her and with him...I will never forgive myself, or him for that.” Odin shook slightly, remember the day he came to Jotunheim when Ella was so ill. “She has.” “She is a better being than I am, we established that years ago.” Odin growled. “I don’t want to hold it against him. He is, after all, young and the new leader of a realm we are closely tied to. The father of my grandchild but for what he did to her, even if I live a hundred thousand more years, I will not be able to forget.”

Frigga rubbed his arm soothingly. “We can continue to remember but we must also let go of the anger, we do not wish for it to consume us.”

Odin sighed. “Seeing the manner in which they look at one another now, the manner in which they reference that child. I find myself being reminded that my opinion on the matter is not relevant in most ways. I am only sorry that our grandson will be raised on another realm and not with us. Hopefully, Thor may see sense some day and settle down, be as levelheaded as Ella. Ever since we told her of the life she was to have, she accepted it.” He paused for a moment. “It will be interesting if she ever has a daughter.” “She is still carrying one child and you are thinking of her carrying another? What allegiance are you planning?"

“If you think that he will allow any allegiances to take place by such means, I fear you are entirely mistaken.” Odin scoffed. “Any granddaughter she gives us will not be used in such a manner. I am merely intrigued to see how they would consider dealing with any who suggest it.” Odin’s chuckle at the thought of Ella tearing some poor being asunder was cut short as he watched someone come close to his daughter and her husband in a manner he thought untrustworthy.

“Odin?” Frigga noted the change in her husband’s demeanour. Odin simply waved his hand slightly to tell her not to distract him as he focused on the being walking towards them. When Frigga looked to where his eye was focused, she sighed. “Oh, Norns, what is he doing here?”

Odin recalled when Thor informed them of what happened at Ostara on Vanaheim, his jaw clenching as he did so.

* When Ella noted who was coming towards them, she groaned internally.

Immediately, Loki noticed her apprehension, so he looked for the cause of it by following her line of sight, his own humour becoming sour as soon as he saw who had entered the hall. He leant towards Ella slightly. “Ice daggers and your throwing knives at the same time?” He suggested.

“Tempting, very, very tempting.” She responded lowly before standing stoically once more as the grouping came up to them. “Prince Nigel.” She bowed slightly.

Nigel looked at her with a smirk. “My dear cousin, I see you are fulfilling the role of royal wife to the best of your ability.” He indicated to her stomach. “You are well and truly of this...domain now, it seems.” “Jotunheim is my home, so it very much is a domain I am happy to be a part of. With regards to my pregnancy, I am very fortunate to have been given a partner worthy of such a name which makes the process of carrying his child far more pleasant than can be assumed for others. How is your wife, actually? I have not seen her since you arrived.”

Loki found himself biting the inside of his cheeks as he chuckled at Ella’s blatant comments. He noted the other Vanir with Nigel were clearly thinking similarly.

Nigel however, did not see anything amusing. “She is at home in the Vanir palace, as is her place since declaring ones promiscuity to the realm is something not to be encouraged.”

For a moment, Loki, Ella and the Jotnar around them, including Helbindi and Byleistr thought the Vanir royal to be joking, but the less than impressed look on his face as he glared at Ella’s stomach told them that he did indeed think such, resulting in more than one scoff. To her own shock, Ella was able to stifle her own laugh. “Norns, I was not aware a woman in a relationship, be she be married or otherwise was promiscuous should she come to carry a child, what with it being the sole purpose of the act of coitus.”

“You would, of course, take offence, as it referencing your own position, Cousin. None like to think themselves to be socially besmirched but your condition, the manner you present yourself, clothing and hair-wise, it only declares one thing, a lack of mortality and promiscuity.”

Ella licked her bottom lip before cocking her head to the side slightly. “So pregnancy in a faithful relationship is promiscuous to you, Nigel?” He nodded. “How? Explain it to me.” He said nothing. “Do not give a statement as fact if it is not such. Tell me, in layman’s terms, how a woman, who is loyal to her partner, who partakes in consensual relations with him resulting in a child is akin to what you call a ‘whore’. I am only so curious to understand your logic on this matter, please, allow us to see as you do.”

Nigel stood open-mouthed for a moment. Well….” “And what of the father’s of these young? The sires that breed them with their partners. Are they tarred with this brush also or is it simply us women that get so cruelly smeared as unclean, I am curious?” The look in his eyes told her his thoughts. “So your wife is a slut and you are pure? Oh, you silly little boy.” She stood in close to him. “You are very brave voicing such ludicrous claims in public. I would recommend not saying such things on this realm, Nigel, you will do yourself no favours. None will be too swift to stand by you as you say them. You and I both know who the many would side with on this, on this realm, Asgard, Vanaheim, Alfheim and such or do you recall how your cowardice through the war is viewed through the realms?” Nigel’s eyes darted to the side. “Oh yes, I heard of it, even here, and not from a single Jotnar, for they wanted to save me the shame of having one such as you a blood relative. When my brother and my mate sweat, bled and fought for the realms while you hid like a little bitch, a ‘ickle precious princess hiding behind excuses as to why he could not fight when the truth is there are poultry in a farmyard red in colour, that lay eggs and are called hens that are less chicken than you are.” She hissed. “I am not a whore and unlike you, my existence actually matters so get your filthy, misogynistic crap out of my sight before I make it that this coronation ends with your funeral and I will make it look self-inflicted or like an accident, as you plummet to your death for ever even considering insulting me, my mate and every female on this realm and so help me, if you even look like your considering scoffing at the females of this realm for their attire or for how many are currently celebrating carrying a child I will castrate you painfully for even thinking about thinking to laugh, I swear on the Norns themselves.”

Nigel flinched and backed away slightly, glancing to Loki as he did.

Loki, for his part, sneered openly. “I can see what you are thinking, ‘how could I let her act like this, act like she is in charge, does it make me less male to do so’. It does not because I will physically hold you down as she does it.” He hissed. “If you dare start trouble on our realm, you will bear the brunt of the consequences, I can assure you. What you did, trying to hurt us on Vanaheim for Ostara to get a reaction, this is not Vanaheim and you hold absolutely no power here and if one word of what was said as your warning so much as makes it outside of this and we will know and we will not take kindly to you rushing to your father or brother to defend your honour, Little Girl. You want to be a tough guy, I am right here, try it but I warn you, I am not in the mood for your petty behaviour and I can guarantee, one utterance of anything resembling ridicule for my realm and my brothers, my allies, Prince Thor and even his friends will stand by my side as I deal with you.” “You cannot say such things,” Nigel stuttered.

“It seems he just did.” Nigel turned to see a grinning Thor. “Run along now, Nidge, Ella’s patience are wearing thin and none here can stop her, you know that.”

Nigel scarpered quickly from their presence.

“It’s rude to threaten your guests with castration, Ella,” Thor scolded.

“It is rude to call your host a promiscuous whore also,” Ella argued.

Thor, who had not been privy to that part of the conversation was forced to concede it was true. “That was brazen on his behalf.” He watched as Helbindi laughed and Byleistr stared worriedly at his sister. “Just do not do it in front of everyone, it may cause some to lose their dinner.”

“I’ll try, but I cannot promise anything,” Ella smirked before eyeing their parents watching from a balcony close by. She merely smiled at them before going to greet another who had been so rudely delayed in doing so by Nigel’s prolonged time with them.

* “She gets that from you,” Frigga commented to Odin.

“I never threatened any man’s appendages.” “The manner in which she spoke, not what she said,” Frigga verified. “Thank the Norns she was born a girl. She is too vicious.”

Odin said nothing of an instance that came to his memory when Frigga carried Thor where she all but swore to obliterate the building if one courtier did not cease staring at her in a manner she thought to be unacceptable. Looking at his daughter as she went back to smiling and being polite, he feared what would happen any that thought to insult Jotunheim while her husband was king.

#Loki #others #submission #Submitted fic #Pride and Prejudice #chapter 54 #wolfpawn

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izzy-b-hands · 4 years ago

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Too Much Blues

Gotta be honest, no idea what this is. I wanted to write, I put on some music and did some jumping around Spotify, and now here this is. I’ve been writing for like three hours and it somehow got dark around me, idk when that happened.

Not sure if this really qualifies as angst? It isn’t happy, but it isn’t like overwhelmingly sad for Eugene or Snafu either. Y’all will have to let me know I guess.

Title is from the song by James Booker which I have linked there on his name because I recently discovered him, and he is absolutely wonderful, and deserves more people listening to his music. After you read this, give him a listen. He’s Freddie levels of amazing piano playing, and sings so strongly it transports you. I can’t believe I didn’t know of him until now, and I wish I had sooner.

My love to all who read/like/reblog!

The taste of blood on his tongue wasn’t unfamiliar, but it was unwelcome.

The alley he was laying in wasn’t cold, thanks to the August heat, but it was wet. Rain poured, sluicing off of the rooftops as fast as it could fall from the clouds.

He wouldn’t admit that this had been a bad idea though. Not yet. It would have to get a lot worse for that.

Eugene had thought it was a bad idea from the start.

“You can’t win the money we need by gambling. The math doesn’t pan out-”

“I’m lucky,” Snafu had told him, accompanying it with a kiss. “I can win us a thousand dollars, easy. Give me the weekend in New Orleans, let me hit up the old haunts, and I’ll have it. I promise.”

“At least let me go with you,” Eugene had begged as he had watched him pack. “For safety’s sake.”

“I used to live there, Gene. The city isn’t any more unsafe than anywhere else anyway. Besides what else are we gonna do?”

Eugene hadn’t had an answer for that, and neither did Snafu for that matter. It was purely bad luck and bad timing, that two of the cats had needed the vet, that Eugene had busted his arm trying to help repair part of the roof after a particularly bad hailstorm fucked it all the way up, that another storm had hit after that and done such damage that they had to hire someone to come fix it up instead of trying to do it themselves, that the break in Eugene’s arm wasn’t healing well and required more visits to the doctor than previously expected.

The first thousand they’d raised by selling off things from the house, one by one, first to the pawn shop in town, then by driving out of town to the pawn shops of neighboring towns until they had enough. Their house was slightly more bare (and missing some furniture) but it was worth it. Neither of them wanted to beg help from Eugene’s parents, or Sid and Mary. Not their debts, not their problem, was the agreed upon mantra.

But the pawn shops didn’t want any more of their things, and to pay off the thousand now would drain their accounts.

And Snafu had always enjoyed gambling.

It wasn’t that he hadn’t anticipated this. You could get jumped in any city in the country, for any reason, he figured.

This time, however, he wasn’t sure what the reason was. He’d lost more than he’d won, and the few hundred he had on him was still all present and accounted for. They’d beaten him to a pulp, and run, and that was that.

“Just bad luck,” he mumbled as he stood and staggered out of the alley.

People traipsed past him without a care, some drunk, others just deep in conversation with those they walked beside, or taking in the scenery. The city had never chewed them up and spat them back out like it had him. Maybe other cities had, and this was their safe place.

It had been his, once. And he wanted to believe it still was.

But it was difficult, bloody and bruised, the rain seemingly never-ending as he finally dropped to the curb and sat. And he was tired. It had been hours finding any game he could, in any place he could, trying to win as much as possible. No booze like he might have had normally, this was too important not to stay sharp.

But even that hadn’t done it. It was nearly Sunday morning, and Eugene would be expecting him back by Sunday night. It didn’t seem enough time, not nearly enough time.

“You need a rest,” the man who had stopped in front of him said it not as a question, but as a fact. He wore a sharp suit, and looked just as tired as Snafu.

“Don’t we all?”

The man nodded. “I know a restful place.”

He let the man help him up, and tried not to slow him as they made their way down the road to the nearest bar.

“Needs some cleaning up,” the man said to the bartender, who nodded and came out from behind the bar with a rag and a small first aid kit.

“I can pay you,” Snafu said, even though it hurt to say. Any money gone was less to bring home to Eugene, and he already could barely bear how little he would be bringing.

“Nah,” the man replied. “How about a story instead?”

“What about?”

“Anything,” the man replied, watching as the bartender cleaned the cuts on Snafu’s face. “Lotta rings on them, hm?”

Snafu winced at the antiseptic, and nodded. “What little I got to see of them before...well.”

“Got everything you had before they took you down?”

“Yeah,” Snafu replied. “Thankfully.”

“How long you been away?”

Snafu sighed. “Too long, maybe. I live in Alabama now, with my hu-”

It came so naturally to say back at home, where he knew he was mostly safe, but he bit his tongue now, and held his breath as he watched the man’s reaction.

“Your husband,” the man finished. “Okay. And you came back to town because...”

“We need money,” Snafu admitted. “I was gonna win it for us. Some cards, whatever else I could find, you know.”

“Just see what’s going on for the night, what you start winning at,” the man agreed. “You win all you need?”

Snafu scoffed, and nodded his thanks to the bartender as he finished up. “I wish. Six hundred and some I got, but I need a thousand. I’ve got the rest of tonight, and most of tomorrow to get the last four hundred.”

“Son,” the man said. “It’s already four in the morning on Sunday. How much luck you think you’re gonna find before you have to head home?”

“Not enough,” Snafu muttered. “I can’t go back to him with just this.”

The man nodded. “How well can you play?”

“Play what?”

“Piano. I can tell by your hands, those fingers.”

Snafu shrugged. He had been given lessons as a child, but hadn’t made much effort to keep up with them the older he got. And war didn’t exactly lend itself well to piano practice, what with no drops of pianos on the islands in the Pacific.

“I’ve got to run and play at church myself,” the man said. “But my grandmother is at home, too sick in bed to go. She wants nothing more than to hear some of the music I’d be playing. If you can do even a song or two, it would mean the world. And I’ll give you that last four hundred.”

He smirked. “Four hundred dollars to play piano for someone I don’t know? Pull the other one.”

“Not at all,” the man said. “I give you my word, and my name.”

“Your name?”

“Names are power,” the man replied. “Call me Jim. You?”

“Snafu.”

Jim grinned. “That ain’t your real name, but Jim ain’t my real name either, so fair enough. Come on then, and I’ll take you to her. Play for the next few hours, and the money is yours.”

Jim led out of the bar with only a wave to the bartender, who seemed nonplussed by all of it, and called them a cab. It drove them from the Quarter to Metairie quickly, to a small white house with blue trim.

Jim didn’t introduce him to the elderly woman who was tucked into the small twin bed in the living room, only said a few words to her, and gestured Snafu to the piano near it, then left.

He settled onto the bench, and let his fingers rest uncertainly on the keys.

“Can you play me something about losing?” the woman’s voice was soft, but scratched with the effort of being brought forth.

“I know about losing,” Snafu murmured, and patted the wad of bills in his pocket before starting in on St. Jame’s Infirmary Blues. It was one of the few songs he could remember well, though it certainly didn’t fit the bill of a ‘church song.’ “Though you wanted something from your church though? That’s what Jim told me.”

“Jim? Is that what he’s having you call him? Well, he is a sweetheart, but he doesn’t need to know what I have you play,” the woman replied. “I like this one.”

It wasn’t a particularly long song, but he let his fingers play on the keys, adding into it, until she hummed discontentedly.

“What else do you know?”

“More blues?” Snafu winced. “Mostly remember what folks around here play, what I heard before I left, what I heard now walkin’ the streets. Think I could replicate some of it-”

“Don’t talk it over till it falls apart,” the woman interrupted gently. “Just play. I trust you.”

He searched his mind for the chords, the melodies, letting them fall into place, then playing about with them. He didn’t worry about perfectly matching what he could recall in his head; she hummed happily each time he did his own variations.

There was a clock on the wall, but he paid it no mind, until Jim came back inside.

He motioned for Snafu to continue playing, then stepped up to the bed, kneeling down to the woman.

“Thank you,” he said softly. “She’s smiling. How she always wanted to go.”

Snafu stopped short, and nearly tripped running out from behind the piano. “Is she-”

“She kept telling us it would be today, and she’s not often wrong about anything,” Jim chuckled. “Thank you for your kindness, and your help. If I couldn’t be here, I’m glad you could be.”

“You don’t know me,” Snafu couldn’t help but murmur.

“You’re a son of the city, and I bet you had a grandmother sweet as mine that you once played for.”

“Something like that,” Snafu said, and pushed the memories back down.

“That’s enough. Don’t need to know everything about someone to be kind to them, to do the most basic human act of creating something to make them happy, to ease them in a time of suffering. And I knew you could and would do that for her.”

Jim handed him a bundle of bills. “Count it if you like; I don’t blame you if you do. But it’s all there. Four hundred, plus an extra hundred in case you run into trouble on the way home.”

Snafu took the bundle with shaking hands. “Thank you. Is there...”

“You’ve done everything we needed you to,” Jim interrupted, a soft and sad smile on his face. “You get home to your husband, and take care of your debts. Be well. Maybe we’ll find each other again, should you come back. Bring your husband this time, and we’ll all share a drink.”

“You sound so certain that I’ll be back,” Snafu said.

“Because you will be,” Jim said matter-of-factly. “A visit to one home, from another. Because the city is always home to you, even if you forget that once you go. But places never forget the children that grew up in their streets. Their pain and their happiness and their sadness. She’ll remember this particular sadness, and the pain you met here this time. And be ready to comfort you to make up for it, the next time you come home.”

He left the house, and found a cab waiting for him outside. The ride to the train station was a bit longer than the ride to the house had been, and he considered using it to count the bills Jim had given him.

But he didn’t. Somehow, in his gut, he knew there was no need.

He didn’t on the train ride back either. Instead, he slept, the most he had slept since getting to New Orleans.

At the station, he called Eugene.

“I’ve got enough. More than enough.”

He hung up before Eugene could ask any questions, and settled onto a bench outside the station to wait for him.

The taste of blood on his tongue, as he chewed at his lower lip anxiously, was not unfamiliar, or unwelcome.

The iron tasted like life, whatever remained of his, of Eugene’s.

He wondered if there would be music at the end, for them.

#text post #LeeH writes #Sledgefu

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myhockeyworld87 · 5 years ago

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Love Me Anyway - Tyler Seguin - Part 1

Word Count: 1694

POV: Reader and Tyler (it switches)

Warnings: Language (apparently that’s just the way I write)

Notes: Ok so here it is, literally the first thing I ever wrote for someone else to read. This is where it all started. I never finished the series but I think there are about 7 or 8 parts of that are done. I’ll publish some of it, and you guys can let me know if you want more of it. Peace, Love and Hugs all!

READER POV

Work had been a hell of a week. So when your friends suggested going out and letting off some steam Friday night you were all in. You got home from work and debated on what to wear. You were in the mood for cute and sexy. It’d been 6 months since you and Kyle; otherwise known as he who shall remain nameless, broke up. You’d gone out on a couple of dates but nothing came of it. Browsing through your closet looking for something that said I’m available; you settled on a pair of cute dressy black shorts with an off the shoulder lacy black top. Nothing that said slut, but the outfit did say you were looking. Hearing your phone ding, immediately knowing your friends were here to pick you up. You finished putting on your sandals, grabbed your bag and headed out the door.

The four of you headed to a little restaurant for dinner and some pre-party drinks. As always, being with your girls just made you feel so much better. After dinner you decided to hit the club. You and your friend Jenna had a few too many pineapple martinis at the restaurant, so that first drink at the club you really felt. You knew you needed to slow down. So you went to the bar to grab a water. The bartender was cute, and here you were asking for water...ugh. So you quickly changed your train of thought and ordered a tequila sunrise to go with that water. Mr. Hot Bartender grabbed the water fairly quick; so you took a few quick sips as he went mix your other drink. Solely focusing on Mr. Hottender; as you were now calling him; you weren’t ready when some bumped into you spilling your water on you and the bar.

“Damn It” you whisper yelled as Mr. ‘I’ve drank too much and am stumbling into people’ looks over at you. “I’m so sorry” he said. “Let me buy you a new drink?” You turned to tell him that it wasn’t necessary, when you realize...it's Tyler freakin Seguin. What are the chances? Ok so yes you’re a hockey fan that’s number one. Two you can appreciate that Tyler is hot in every way; and three he’s also the equivalent of a male whore. And lord knows you don’t want to be another notch on his bedpost. He probably has so many notches he’s had to get a new bedposts, twice. You look at him finally saying “It’s not necessary”; turning your head dabbing the water off of you and the bar.

“No really, I’m super sorry, let me make it up to” Tyler implored.

“Look its only water, so no harm done” you casually replied.

Just then Mr. Hottender returned with your mixed drink. You went to hand him a 20. Shaking his head, he rejected the money, “looks like this one’s on him.” Nodding over to Tyler who was standing next to you.

You smiled over at Tyler and said “It really wasn’t necessary, but thank you.”

“You’re welcome, so do you come here often?”

“You’re really gonna use that lame pick up line” you fired back.

Tyler looked sheepishly down at the floor and then back up at you. “What I meant to say was...I haven’t really seen you around here before. I would’ve noticed someone as beautiful as you.”

You looked him straight in the eye, and you both bursted out laughing.

“Sorry that really wasn’t much better was it” he laughed.

“No not really” you chuckled in return. “But to answer your question, I’ve been here a few times, not many. I’m out with some friends. Speaking of which, they’re probably wondering where I went off to. Thanks again for the drink.” With that you turned, heading off, back to your friends.

“Wait” Tyler grabbed your wrist, spilling your water some more; but you didn’t even notice that. There was something about when he touched you, a spark and not the static electricity kind. Your eyes moved to where his hand touched your wrist. It was like there was this magnetism in his touch that drew you in; skin feeling hot and cold at the same time. You wanted him to let go but then never let go; you couldn’t explain it. It seemed like forever but then you finally heard him say, “What’s your name?”

As you looked up. He let go of your arm and the spell was broken. “(Y/N), and that’s all you get. You’ve got to work for the rest.” With that you moved with lightning speed back to where your friends were at.

TYLER’S POV

You were glad to be back in Dallas. More importantly you were elated that you were back to playing hockey. Summer break was always fun but hockey was your passion. You had a little over a week before training camp, so you were going to live it up just a little bit longer before the season started. Which is how you ended up at the club and saw her walking in. She had the most beautiful smile you’d ever seen. She was with a group of friends and they were all laughing at something one of them had said. You couldn’t take your eyes off her. She wasn’t your typical girl. She definitely carried herself differently. Planning on what move to make on her, your train of thought was interrupted by your friend Mike.

“Earth to Seggy, did you not hear a word I said man?”

“Huh? What? No sorry” you replied.

“I said that blonde over there is giving you the ‘fuck me’ eyes. Are you gonna go make a move or what?”

“What blonde? There are like a million here. Besides I’ve got more important things on my mind.”

Mike looked at you quizzically. “More important than getting laid!”

You finally looked at him and said “yeah didn’t you see that girl come in.” When he shook his head you continued, “the one over…..” Shit where did she go. You just saw her a second ago. You scanned the club looking for her and didn’t see her.

“Are you sure it’s not that blonde right there. I mean she looks like she’s totally down for anything.”

“I could care less about her. Go shoot your shot if you want. I’m more interested in finding that girl with the million dollar smile.”

Mike shrugged at you and moved over to the blonde he was talking about. You continued to search the club when your eyes finally landed on her. There she was smiling again, sipping on some cocktail every now and then, which made you wish you were the straw. She seemed to be with just a group of girls but you could see guys swirling all around them. She whispered something to one of her friends and was headed off to what looked like the bar. This was your chance.

You made your way up to the bar, dismissing some girl trying to get your attention. You planned on just buying her a drink when some guy bumped you; causing you to stumble into her spilling her drink. Shit, you thought not a way to make a great first impression. You apologized and offered to buy her a drink to make up for it. When she finally looked at you; it was like there was a moment of recognition in her face. Great, she knows who I am this is going to be easy;and then she turned and dismissed you.

What the hell just happened you thought to yourself? You tried to apologize again, when she told you it was just water. You saw Nick the bartender coming back with another drink for her so you nodded your head to him; signaling for him to just put it on your tab.

She finally really acknowledged you, thanking you for the drink. You saw your chance.

“You’re welcome, do you come here often?” Seriously what just came out of my mouth? Ugh this is going horribly.

She totally called you out on it. “You’re really gonna use that lame pick up line?”

You could feel the heat rising to your cheeks so you looked down at the floor to get your shit together and started again. “What I meant to say was...I haven’t really seen you around here before. I would’ve noticed someone as beautiful as you.”

Oh my god!!! That’s not what you meant to say at all! I have way more game than this. You looked at her, saw her start to laugh; and just busted out laughing right with her. God her laugh was even beautiful. It was like a melody you kept wanting to replaying over and over in your mind.

You apologized yet again. You were doing that a lot around her; but she was at least smiling at you now, and then she started answering your lame ass question. As soon as she finished though she turned to leave. You did the first thing that came to your mind and reached out to touch her, to stop her from going. “Wait,” you said.

The minute you touched her you knew there was something between the two of you. She just felt right, like she was made for you. You had been drawn to her the minute she walked in, but this, this was different. You wanted to draw her closer to your body and never let go. You looked into her eyes and could tell she was feeling something too. You let go and asked the one thing you needed to know right now. “What’s your name?”

She visibly shook herself and answered, “(Y/N), and that’s all you get. You’ve got to work for the rest.” With that she was off again and you were left standing there knowing that you’d work your ass off for any little piece of information she’d give you.

#Love Me Anyways Series #tyler seguin #tyler seguin imagine #tyler seguin imagines #dallas stars #dallas stars imagine #dallas stars imagines #nhl imagines #nhl imagine #nhl fanfic #hockey imagines #hockey imagine #hockey fanfiction

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nathalie-sancoeur-assistant · 5 years ago

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Miracle Queen

At long last, my late Miracle Queen analysis is here....I apologize for the wait, this would have been out yesterday but unfortunately I realized I had places to be.

As usual, spoilers are below

Marinette and Luka

DId anyone else take Marinette asking Luka about that “perfect tune” as a different take on asking someone out? Because she asked about it, but then Luka didn’t play it because she was still thinking about Adrien. Then at the end of the episode, he ass “Are you sure you want to hear it” after she was done thinking about what Master Fu said about life not always giving you what you want or expect but it not necessarily being a bad thing.

Low-key I interpreted the end of Miracle Queen being the start of a Lukanette relationship.

And he pulled a Chat Noir here.

“No!” for once when Adrien doesn’t want someone’s advances they actually stop. Kagami respect.

“I mean, yes!” This boy is so confused... I mean, clearly he likes Kagami. He could probably see himself being in a sucessful relationship with her but he’s so confused by his feelings for Ladybug, these surfacing feelings for Kagami and his repressed feelings for Marinette...poor kid.

“Your indecision is hurtful, Adrien” I like that she’s not pushing him, but letting him know that he needs to gather himself soon.

---

“For a moment there, I thought you only had to wear glasses to get a miraculous”

Hawkmoth and Mayura: Well....

“Dont know this one, he’s cute, but he gets his clothes from a dumpstser” Luka X Chloe has been canonically shot down.

Okay so...now Hawkmoth knows the identies of ALL the miraculous wearers outside of Ladybug and Chat Noir...what now? I mean, these all have to be people Ladybug knows and trusts right?- Hawkmoth now knows all their identities, so, he can find out what they have in common.

They all go to the same school. If he found that out, he could narrow it down to have Ladybug be going to their school as well.

Then, he could find out WHO they all have in common. Most of them are class mates, so it’s likely someone in THEIR class, but what about Kagami and Luka? The classmates all have relationships with their fellow classmates in common, but Kagami and Luka? Who do they have in common with the class?

Marinette and Adrien. If it weren’t for Kagami, Juleka. So this is actually kinda dangerous for Marinette if Gabriel and Nathalie followed that line of thinking.

---

Oh my sweet stars...

She’s going down

He’s yelling timber

No but like she was legit just falling down and he just

I don’t know I just get the feeling this scared him.She completely rag-dolled like on some of those video games, and his instinct wasn’t to just catch her either, no, it was to just completely wrap her up in his arms like a burrito.

Then he’s asking her forgiveness, like...he knows he’s in the wrong letting her use it even if she is willing to help him or not. But he can’t do it without her.

“Don’t blame yourself. From the very first day, I knew that I’d do anything for you.”

So basically what happened was, she was quite fond of Gabriel and loved his family before all of this. But as soon as he told her he was going supervillain, she got smacked in the face with something more because she got to see how much he was willing to do to keep his family intact.

And he pulls her closer

And then just absolutely melts into her hand

And I am here for it.

I love them and they love each other.

She’s so pretty. Now, that aside- she brought back Hawkmoth’s sentimonster. Is it a new one or the same one? It certainly looks the same...but what emotion has it been created from, exactly? Does that matter when reviving a sentimonster, assuming it’s supposed to be the same one? Or is it completely different aside from appearance? Her eyes are pretty in these shots.

I am in no way attracted to Gabriel but when we get shots like this I can kinda understand why Nathalie would be.

---

This positive reinforcement...absolutely wonderful. She already had a breakdown and was on the verge of another. Chat kept that from happening and did his job as her kitty to keep her grounded and focused. They’re starting to see each other in different lights, her opening up to him so much emotionally like that proves that no matter what they’ll always have an unbreakable bond. They’re literally each other’s pillar of support.

“Littlebug” I love it. Imagine if that’s what he calls his future daughter assuming they get together in the future? Adorable.

“No, its to dangerous! To many powers at the same time”- Master Fu has obviously been teaching Chat Noir too. He’s been getting all the info Ladybug has it seems, just from that line. I like that detail.

Sometimes I like to imagine Gabriel or Nathalie in place of Hawkmoth and Mayura and this started cracking me up because it reminded me of Simon Says. Flutter flutter. Flap flap.

Who knew snakes liked cheese?

Cutie. And I like how the second time Adrien got the snake miraculous, he was actually able to wield it as necessary because he wasn’t trying to impress Ladybug,

Okay so, I like how in this shot they didn’t have him breathing or talking and all the noise seemed to kinda stop. It’s realistic and I like that attention to detail.

Gabriel, honey...ily but you’re dumb. Ladybug is right there, her purifying that akuma before it even reaches it’s target was predictable.

Also when Chloe opened up there, and Ladybug’s face as she realized exactly what all of this was about- I think it hurt both of them. But Ladybug’s already explained herself. Chloe should have known that if she wanted her miraculous back from Ladybug it wasn’t going to be easy. She already told her so...yeah I understand though. She’s just hurt and let it get the best of her. Girl needs to get her emotions in check.

Sometimes you an really Tell Gabriel lives in the present without thinking much about the consequences of certain things. He looks so freaking happy about Chloe being so adamantly against Ladybug now and wearing all the miraculous, but how is she going to know what to say to transform before Ladybug gets the miraculous away from her? I understand the excitement of a new ally but “I don’t even need to do anything” Idk if you really want her to be able to use all the miraculous and potentially lose her mind as implied from Kwami Buster you might want to distract Ladybug and Chat so she can figure out the right transformation words.

“Checkmate, Ladybug!” I have little to say except I love it when villains say “checkmate” during battle. 10/10 dialogue.

He evil laughs so much in this sequence. I wonder if he’s practiced it? Has Nathalie ever walked in on him practicing his evil laugh in the mirror? and this...

Don’t say checkmate until the opponent has no more pawns to move, And the reactiosn the kwamis have? How many masters have they grown to love and admire that they lost just like that? Also I recall someone saying that this thing has a plot hole in it, but I think that Master Fu really was the true guardian of this particular box just from the backstory he has, he was given the miraculous box and grimoir by another master to protect. So he was in a way established as guardian of that box and so I see no reason why he shouldn’t be able to hand ownership over to anyone of his choice.

“Hawkmoth! Tell them to give me my box back!” Did anyone else find that hilarious? Like a spoiled child running to a father who has the backbone of a chocolate eclair.

Except in this case he has the backbone of like...a steel rod.

And then he just goes to scoop up Mayura.

“How disappointing...”

I like Mayura’s face here too. “Oh, he’s picking me up? Alright, okay I guess so, that’s fine.”

I literally slow down the playback scenes to watch these scenes go slower. It looks like their heads are touching.

That’s a whole mood. Me too.

“Im going to New York with Mommy!” Chloe you’re a comedian.

Wow, she really looks like she’s hurting.

“Oh my Nathalie...”

There’s not even a comma, he called her his.

“There are no words to express how sorry I am”

“No, not for nothing” she still remains the optimistic one. She’s comforting him when she’s the one in need. He obviously thinks she should be upset with him but she just continues telling him its okay. All she cares about is making sure he’s happy and doesn’t want him to blame himself for her choices. Gabriel get this woman a ring.

---

“Goodbye....Master”

I feel so bad for these kwamis. How long does it take before they break after watching everyone they love eventually just die? Have any of them ever emotionally distanced themselves from mortals to avoid the heartbreak when they inevitably lose them? And without Wayzz how long does Master Fu have left being almost 200 years old?

Chloe is really putting on her clown wig in this episode. Mommy is staying in Paris so she can’t go to New York now. Karma, am I right?

“Even if like doesn’t give us the gifts we were hoping for, the true gift is life itself”....And that’s why I think Lukanette is basically canon by the end of the episode. Master Fu’s words play out in her head as she sits next to Luka and she’s not stuttering around Adrien. Her ice cream changes, and I just can’t help but feel like the whole melody thing was symbolic of her accepting Luka’s love and deciding to move on.

They can finally be together...

“Thank you young lady, I will never forget you” if only he knew...

And the way it ended, the endcard...it was all just very sweet and fitting. I do hope Marinette and Adrien will be together by the time Miraculous ends (it’s obviously endgame) but them developing a strong, loving friendship that isn’t plagued with stuttering and stalking is going to be crucial for them to really have a chance at making it. Adrien and Kagami and Luka and Marinette do make sense as couples as we get to know Kagami and Luka more. Still though, I do hope that Adrien and Marinette find each other in the end. There’s to much symbolism pointing to them being (as much as I hate the term) soul mates for them not to.

And for the record, same with Gabenath imo. Gabriel IS losing his certainties, after all...

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crystalninjaphoenix · 5 years ago

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Encounters & Events

A JSE Fanfic

Usually I don’t write two parts of the same story so close together (since I have...so many stories I need to work on) but my muse for this has been going crazy. And people really seem to like this! So I decided to go ahead and, you know, write some of the more important events, including a huge reveal right at the end. This turned out a bit longer than usual, but it’s mostly dialogue, so it should go fast. Let’s check in on all the boys—and I do mean all the boys—shall we? :3c

You can find the other stories under the pw timeline tag!

“Luna, no, stop bothering your brother.” Marvin, carefully balancing a bowl in one hand, reached forward and tried scooting the small black cat away from the terrarium with the other. Said cat looked up at him with big yellow eyes. “Don’t give me that look. He’s probably trying to sleep. You’re annoying him. Go.”

After a few more careful nudges, the cat, Luna stood up and jumped off the table. She stalked to the open doorway, where she proceeded to flop down on her side and stare at him, not moving at all.

Marvin scowled at her. “I will step over you. You are tiny.” He turned back to the room at whole. It looked kind of bare, despite being back home for almost a week. He had yet to take all his knickknacks and posters out of the boxes and put them back up around the room. But the furniture—sofa, armchair, coffee table, table for the terrarium, and television—was all where he’d left them. The room hadn’t changed. The walls and furniture were still shades of blue, his gold stars still painted on the ceiling. And he could still eat his pasta while sitting on the sofa like he wanted to.

He set his bowl down on the coffee table and proceeded to flop down on the sofa before remembering he left his drink back in the kitchen. He sighed, and stood back up. And then the doorbell rang. Well. At least he was already standing up. He walked over to the front door, glanced through the peephole, and then opened it. “Hi JJ.”

Hello. JJ was standing on the doorstep, bouncing awkwardly. I hope I’m not bothering you.

“No, it’s fine, I was just about to have lunch.” Marvin shrugged. “You want to come inside?”

Please.

Marvin stepped aside to let JJ walk in. Before he entered, JJ bent over and picked up a gift bag he must have set down earlier. Once he was inside, JJ held the bag out for Marvin to take. Happy late birthday.

“Oh!” Marvin took the gift bag, looping his arm through the handles. “I thought you forgot.”

No, I’ve just been busy, JJ signed, looking sheepish. Sorry, I know I said I was going to help you unpack and such a few days ago.

“It’s fine. I mean, I don’t think I can ever say anything about people leaving now that I’ve gone and...you know.” Marvin laughed. It came out a little forced.

JJ glanced around the living room, noting the boxes still sitting around with stuff inside. Do you still need help?

“Yeah. How’d you tell?” Marvin kicked the nearest box. “How’s it feel to be the only one in the group with executive function that actually works?”

JJ chuckled. By the way, I think your cat is trying to steal your noodles.

“Wha...?” Marvin spun around. “Luna Void! Get away from there!” He quickly crossed the room, picking up the black cat just before her paw dipped into the bowl. “That’s human food, not cat food. And I just filled your bowl, you’re doing this on purpose, aren’t you?”

Luna meowed.

Marvin shook his head, glancing around the room. He noticed a big ball of white and brown fluff sitting on the armchair. “Here, play with Ragamuffin.” He set Luna on top of the fluff ball, which meowed and lifted its head, revealing itself to be a ragdoll cat, mostly off-white with a brown tail, face, and ears. “Shush, you love her, Muffin.” Ragamuffin meowed again as Luna flopped across him. Marvin looked back at JJ. “Sorry ‘bout that.”

I love them, JJ signed happily, eyes locked on the two cats.

Marvin laughed. “You can come by to see them any time. Your building still have the rules about pets?”

Yes, sadly. JJ sighed. Not even Mr. Purple Snake is allowed.

“Hey, Salazar isn’t purple, he’s lavender,” Marvin corrected. “Purple makes it sound like he’s the same shade as that thing from McDonald’s, while lavender is the actual name of the morph.”

And he has stripes.

“Exactly, he’s a striped lavender snake,” Marvin said, nodding.

Fits you perfectly, JJ commented. Anyway, are you going to open your present now or later?

“I can do it now,” Marvin said, grabbing the gift bag off his arm. He sat down on the sofa, searching through the tissue paper. JJ took a seat next to him. After pulling out all the paper, Marvin reached into the bag and pulled out a golden heart-shaped locket. His eyes widened. “No way.” He turned the locket over, noticing a small key, which he wound a few times. The chimes of a music box started playing. Marvin looked up at JJ. “Oh my god. Oh my god. I thought this was a collector’s item, how did you find one?”

Someone was selling it online, JJ explained. I know you really like the game, so I thought you’d like it. He looked hopeful. Well...do you?

“Fuck, of course I do.” Marvin lifted the locket to his ear, listening to the familiar melody. “Oh my god. Oh my god, JJ. Thank you so much.” Words weren’t enough to describe what he was feeling, so Marvin grabbed JJ’s hand and squeezed it tight, swinging it a little. He let go sooner than he would’ve liked to, so JJ could respond if he wanted.

I’m glad, JJ signed, beaming. I wanted to get you something that meant a lot, since it’s been a while since I’ve seen you.

“Yeah...yeah, it has, hasn’t it?” Marvin rewound the music box as it slowed down. He suddenly felt his eyes well with tears. He turned away from JJ, rubbing his eyes.

JJ picked up on it, of course. Are you okay? he asked, concern lining his face.

“Fine.” Marvin’s voice cracked on the single syllable. “I-It just...fine. I’m just...a lot of things have happened.”

Jameson scooted closer. Do you want to talk about it?

“No,” Marvin said, perhaps a little too fast. “I’m good.” He didn’t want to explain this to any of them. He wasn’t sure what they’d think of him if they knew. It might just be better if he kept silent about it. Part of him whispered that they’d want to know why he left eventually, but he...he didn’t think he was brave enough to listen to that part.

JJ looked at him oddly. You sure?

Well...there was a smaller thing that he thought was safe to talk about. “Well...” he said slowly. “You know, Schneep and I really liked this game.” He squeezed the locket under his hand. “It was kind of our thing. He joked that it was his birthday gift, since it, y’know, came out the same day. The two of us were the only ones who liked it for a long time, and we kept fucking badgering Jack to play it on the channel.” Marvin smiled. “No joke, we one time spent two hours straight just talking about it.” The smile faded. “I just...I miss him, I guess.”

Jameson didn’t say anything for some time. Then: I see, he signed. But he’s back now, isn’t he? You can go visit.

“Yeah, I know that, like intellectually,” Marvin explained. “But I-I don’t know, I guess I’m nervous. That something will go wrong. Y’know, Chase told me what happened at the last visit.”

JJ bit his lip. Well. That might’ve been because of me. I think that he just freaked out because...he thought I was someone else.

Was that what happened? Chase had said that JJ somehow caused Schneep to freak out, but he hadn’t mentioned it was because Schneep thought he was someone else. “Still,” Marvin said, and then fell silent.

You can go with Chase, if you want, for support, JJ suggested.

“Maybe,” Marvin said slowly. “Maybe I should just go today, just jump in impulsively.” He...he did really want to see him. “Maybe Chase can come too, he can drive me.”

I think Chase has something to do today, JJ said.

“Really? What?”

I don’t know. JJ shrugged.

“Maybe he’s filming or something,” Marvin wondered out loud. “Would you want to come, if I went to see Schneep today?”

Jameson immediately paled. I don’t think that’s a good idea, given how he reacted.

“He could’ve forgotten,” Marvin suggested.

In a few days?

“I don’t know, it’s possible. He used to complain a lot about how he didn’t have a strong sense of...time.”

Well, I’m still not sure it’s a good idea, JJ signed slowly. Besides, I have work this evening.

“Oh yeah,” Marvin recalled. “You still working for, uhhh what’s-his-face? Mr. Paddington, or something?”

JJ smiled. Mr. Patterson, he signed, spelling it out. And yes. Are you still working at the boutique?

Marvin’s face fell. “No.” He paused, then continued in sign. I got fired. About a month before I left.

Jameson’s mouth formed a small O shape. I’m sorry.

It’s fine, I hated retail anyway, Marvin signed dismissively.

For a moment more, they just sat there. I think your cats are fighting, JJ signed after a while.

Marvin looked over at the armchair and watched as Ragamuffin shoved Luna off the seat. “They’re fine, Muffin’s just grumpy.”

Ah. Jameson hesitated, then signed his next string of words super-fast, as if shoving out his idea before he started to regret it. You know, if you ever want to talk to someone, but not one of us, like, someone more serious about things that are...difficult, then I can give you my therapist’s number.

Marvin looked vaguely surprised. “Wait, you go to an actual talking therapist? Like for issues and stuff? I thought when you mentioned therapy it was, like, speech therapy.”

I tried speech therapy, it’s never worked, JJ said dryly. And at this point I don’t think it will. But I’m fine, not willing to try any sort of operation to fix the damage.

“Hey, I didn’t say anything. Wasn’t even thinking it,” Marvin assured him.

Some people do, JJ signed, a bit bitterly. But yes, an “actual” therapist. I suggested it to Chase, too.

“Oh, that’s good. He could use that.” Marvin fell silent. “I-I don’t know. I’ll think about it.” He wasn’t sure he would go through with it. He wasn’t sure how to explain to anyone about...all of this. Especially a therapist. He wasn’t sure he could trust them to not call the police.

JJ smiled. That’s enough. Now, are you ready to actually have me help you unpack?

“Oh shit I completely forgot about that,” Marvin said, sitting up straight.

Maybe I could come back after you’re done with lunch, JJ suggested.

“No, you’re here, let’s do it now.” Marvin hadn’t forgotten about the lunch, at least. Though he did realize his pasta was getting cold. He pulled the bowl towards him. “We can eat together first. I made too much spaghetti, there’s still some in the kitchen.”

Oh. Thank you.

“No problem. Let’s both go there, I don’t trust the cats to leave us alone anymore.” Marvin shot a look at the two cats, Ragamuffin sitting, satisfied, in the armchair while Luna zoomed around the floor.

Good idea. JJ stood up. He paused. I’m not sure if I’ve said this yet, but...it truly is good to see you again.

Marvin smiled; he hoped it wasn’t strained. He looped the locket’s chain around his neck, the gold heart settling against his blue shirt. Thanks, he signed. Good to be back.

——————

Chase had something to do. Something he’d been neglecting for...god, it must’ve been three months now. The thought made guilt curdle in his stomach. It’s been far too long. A lot had happened, but that wasn’t an excuse.

It was another hospital. Not like the one Schneep was in, more of what you would usually expect when you heard the word “hospital.” Still, the check-in procedure was basically the same. Though this one didn’t have a visitors’ room. You were allowed to see the patients in their rooms here.

Even though it had been a while, Chase still remembered what room number it was—309—and what section it was in—ICU. He pushed open the door, and saw nothing had changed in the months since he’d been there. He walked inside, taking a seat in the one chair in the room, next to the bed. He took a deep breath. “Hi, Jack.”

As usual, there was no response except for the beeping from the heart monitor. Jack looked pretty much exactly the same. Eyes closed, oxygen mask strapped to his face. Chase couldn’t remember what was actually wrong with him, just that the doctors said Jack would either come out of it in time, or not at all.

“I know it’s been a while. Things have been...kind of tough lately,” Chase said slowly. “Um, they found Schneep. I-I don’t know how you’d feel about that, given...you know...” He waved vaguely at the bed. “Him and this whole situation. I-I still don’t think he meant to. I think he might’ve just been a bit...confused. You know how he gets. Maybe he was off his meds that day. Anyway, he’s in Silver Hills now. You know that place. I think it’s good that he’s there, it could really help. Apparently they also think he killed some people? Which I was surprised to hear, I never would’ve thought...” Chase trailed off. “I-I don’t think it’s his fault, really.”

He paused there for a moment, eyes tracing the line on the heart monitor. Steady. That’s good.

“Also, Marvin’s back. I don’t know where he went, he said he went to live with his grandma for a while. Probably true, but I just know there’s something else. Anyway, I’m not gonna ask him too much if he doesn’t want to talk about it. I don’t want him to...you know, shut down or anything.”

Another pause. Breathing was steady, too. It always was.

“And Stacy called me, too. I thought she was mad at me, or something, but, uh, turns out she’s not. Which is great. She just was having some work troubles and was kinda stressed, and I guess she was just too busy. But she’s doing okay, now. She quit working at the school, now she’s somewhere else, uh, I don’t remember the name but it apparently pays better. She does something with graphic design, which you know, she’s always wanted to. And Sophie and Nick are great, too. They’ve started this thing called reception this year, which I guess is like preschool for England. I dunno, I’m some dumb American. They sound like they’re doing okay. Everything’s...everything’s doing okay...”

Chase blinked back tears. Why was he crying? He wasn’t sad. He wasn’t...anything, really. He felt kind of...gray. But there was one thing he could feel that wasn’t just...gray. “I miss you,” he choked out. “I...I miss you a lot, Jack. I’m sure a lot of people miss you. I’m still trying to keep your community alive, but...well, I’m not you. It’s not the same thing, watching someone else run it.” He rubbed his eyes. “God, this is stupid. I’m stupid. I was just telling you how everything’s okay. And it should be. It should be. Everything’s getting better, just a little bit. Maybe that’s why the things that aren’t...they just seem worse. I miss you. I miss Jackie. I’m...I’m tired, Jack. I’m always tired, I-I can’t do this.” He didn’t know what ‘this’ was.

Someone knocked on the door to the room.

Chase sat up straight, furiously swiping away tear tracks. He stood up and walked over to the door. He opened it to see Marvin standing there.

“Oh. Hi, you are here,” he said. “I thought, ‘cause the door was closed...are you busy?”

“No, no, come in, it’s fine,” Chase hurried to say. He stepped aside. “Um, is that a new shirt? I didn’t think you liked to wear green.”

Marvin looked down at his T-shirt. “Yeah, it’s new. Not one of my favorites, but whatever.” He walked inside, stopping by the side of the bed. He looked down at Jack with an unreadable expression. “He looks so...small.”

“It’s been a while, hasn’t it?” Chase said. Marvin hadn’t been one to visit often before he left. But he supposed his time away changed a lot of things.

Marvin nodded. “Yeah.” He looked up at Chase. “Were you...doing something, or...?”

“No, I-I was just—it’s fine,” Chase stuttered.

“Cause I...I kind of wanted to talk to him.”

“Yeah, of course, I-I’ll wait outside.” Chase hurried out of the room, closing the door behind him. He took a deep breath.

He really needed to get back into practice with these visits. Maybe then he wouldn’t start crying every time. But...well, maybe a different set of visits had taken up space in his mind.

Waiting outside the hospital room, Chase turned his thoughts to Schneep. He wondered how he was doing.

——————

The answer to Chase’s wondering was “not so good,” as proven by the interaction that took place across town, a little over two hours after Chase ended his visit.

Oliver hadn’t been prepared for anything like this in all his years working this job. He hadn’t been prepared for this entire case. The past few months had been a roller coaster that threw all his expectations out the window. He might’ve been inclined to reexamine those expectations, if he wasn’t too busy at the moment trying to keep peace in...well, in what was starting to look more like an argument than a therapy session.

Which was how most of these sessions were, now that Dr. Newson had taken over for Dr. Laurens. Oliver wasn’t sure what Newson had against Schneep, but there must’ve been something, because this was definitely not normal. In just a few days, Oliver had gone from standing in the corner of the room during these sessions, to standing right by Newson and Schneep in the center, looking back and forth between them so that he didn’t miss anything...potentially dangerous to either of them.

“You are asking too many questions!” Schneep growled. “Why should any of this matter to you?!”

“I would appreciate it if you didn’t tell me how to do my job,” Newson retorted. “You’re not that kind of doctor. In fact, you might not even be that at all.”

Schneep bristled. “Excuse me? You insult me enough, do you have to bring something completely untrue into this?!”

“All I’m saying is that delusions are a common symptom of your condition,” Newson said with a sickly sweet smile. “Maybe you just thought you were—”

“Fick dich und deine Vorfahren! You do not come into here and dismiss years of my work and study like this!”

“I can come in here whenever I want! I’m in charge!”

Schneep burst into laughter. “And you are doing such a wonderful job of it! Do you have nothing better to do than yell at me for an hour?!” His head tilted to the side. His hand shot to his neck, fingers starting to claw at skin. Oliver reacted immediately, grabbing his wrist and pulling his hand back. Schneep didn’t even notice. “Because that is really all you are doing!”

“Alright, fine.” Newson took a step back, straightening her jacket. “Let’s do something else, then. We can work on uncovering the inner motivation for you killing thirteen people.”

“I did not k—!”

“Yeah, I know, you think something made you do it,” Newson dismissed. “Well, the fingerprints on the murder weapons would tell a different story. Do you think you needed some sort of control? After all, things hadn’t been going so well in your personal life, with your job and your wife.”

“Shut up about Mina,” Schneep growled. “We were doing fine.”

“Hmm, yet I haven’t seen her in the visitors’ room yet. Or even heard from her.” Newson flashed a smile.

Oliver thought that was a bit too far. “Um, Dr. Newson, do you really think—”

“That is none of your business!” Schneep suddenly screamed.

“Of course it’s my business! How am I supposed to do my job without getting into your life?”

“That is not what you are doing! You are needling me for no reason! Why?! Is this fun for you?! I am tired of being fucked with by people and their sick games!” Schneep’s other hand darted forward, reaching for Newson. Oliver grabbed that one, too.

“Well, that’s the pot calling the kettle—” Newson suddenly stopped, being interrupted by a beeping noise. She looked down, and grabbed the pager off her belt. She quickly read the message, and sighed. “We’re going to have to cut this short today.”

“Good,” Schneep snarled. “I was about to tear your tongue out.”

“Now, you don’t want to be doing things like that, or you could spend the night in the quiet room again,” Newson said, folding her arms.

Schneep suddenly paled. He pulled his hands out of Oliver’s grasp and backed up, into the bed. He grabbed the pillow and hugged it to his chest, burying his face in it.

Oliver wasn’t sure why Schneep had such a strong reaction to the quiet room. Well, there was the stigma about having a room with padded walls, that was pretty much empty except for a bed. Oliver wasn’t about to pretend that popular culture hadn’t put its mark on that. But for some reason, even mentioning it made Schneep shut down entirely.

“Oliver, follow me,” Newson said. She turned on her heel, leaving the room. Oliver stood there for a moment more, then hurried to catch up.

“What is it, Dr. Newson?” he asked as they walked down the halls.

“What is what? The incident I’ve been paged about, or the reason why I asked you to come with me?”

“Um. Both, I guess.”

Dr. Newson sighed. “Lily just paged to tell me there’s some sort of commotion at the front desk. She’s new there, I guess she’s never had to deal with this before, so she appealed to the highest authority. Anyway, I wanted you to walk with me so we could talk about Henrik’s medication.”

“...alright,” Oliver said, confused. “Well, Dr. Laurens gave him a new one two weeks ago, since the other one apparently wasn’t effective.”

“I know that,” Newson nodded. “But it’s still not up to a full dosage.”

“Well...no,” Oliver admitted. “Laurens wanted to get him off the old one first, then get him used to this new one.”

“Well, I think he should be used to it by now,” Newson said dismissively. “We can up it to full. And we should give him a stronger tranquilizing agent, as well, I don’t think this one’s working too well.”

“...I see,” Oliver said slowly. He had to admit, he wasn’t an expert on this sort of stuff. It was why he was an orderly and not a doctor—well, that and the obvious lack of an actual doctorate. But he knew a bit about the medications, and... “Dr. Newson, aren’t there side effects for the current medication? Isn’t that why he has to get used to it in the first place? Are you—I don’t mean this the wrong way, but, are you sure he’s ready?”

“Of course I am.” Newson nodded once, firmly. Her eyes were burning. “I’m letting you know so you won’t think anything’s out of the ordinary when you pick it up tomorrow.”

“...alright.” Oliver didn’t want to say anything bad; he didn’t want to lose his job, and to be honest, Dr. Newson was a little intimidating. But he wasn’t sure her motives were entirely pure. Still, he kept silent. With Laurens gone, Schneep needed an ally.

“Here we are, the front desk,” Newson said, pushing open the door. Oliver hung back, watching the scene. Lily Travels, a relatively new doctor, was manning the desk, trying to calm down a clearly upset man, who...looked familiar. If it hadn’t been for the long wavy hair held back in a ponytail, Oliver could’ve sworn that he was—

“Hello, is there a problem here?” Newson asked pleasantly.

“I want to see someone,” the man said. “I looked up your hours on your website! But she keeps saying that he’s not available!” The man’s voice was loud and distressed. He kept touching the cup full of pens on top of the desk, playing with it.

“Sir, please put that down,” Dr. Travels said weakly, in the tone of someone who’s been asking the same thing for a while.

The man sharply withdrew his hand. And then immediately took five pens out of the cup and started chewing on the end of one of them. Dr. Travels sighed.

Newson looked the man up and down. Recognition flared in her eyes. “Sir, what’s your name?”

“Marvin. Marvin Maher, I wrote it on the clipboard,” the man said, still chewing on the pen.

“Mr. Maher, put down that pen, or you’ll have to pay for it.” Marvin immediately dropped the pen. “Who are you here to see?”

“His name’s Henrik von Schneeplestein.”

Newson nodded, her suspicions confirmed. “Well, Dr. Travels is right, he’s not available.”

“What?!” Marvin gasped. “Then—then why the fuck does your website say I can visit him now?!”

“Visiting hours for residents on the first floor are only on Fridays,” Newson said calmly.

Marvin paused, pulling at the collar of his blue shirt. “Well, why couldn’t you put that on the website?”

“It is on the website, Mr. Maher.”

“I didn’t see it,” Marvin grumbled. “Maybe your website layout fucking sucks. And how do you know where Schneep’s room is?”

“Well, I am his doctor,” Newson said pointedly. “And even if I wasn’t, we have a database where that information could easily be found.”

“You’re his...?” Marvin paused. “Sorry, what’s your name, again?”

“My name is Dr. Newson.”

“Oh.” Marvin’s face scrunched in confusion. “But I thought Dr. Laurens—no, wait. I remember now, Chase said she...oh, that sucks.” He paused. “Newson? Really?”

“Yes, really.”

“Is that, like, a common name...?”

“I suppose not,” Newson mused. “But if that’ll be all you wanted...” She gestured towards the front door.

Marvin stared at her. “Um...‘if that’ll be all I wanted’ what?”

A flicker of annoyance temporarily broke Newson’s professional facade. “If that’ll be all, could you please exit now? Dr. Travels has more to do.”

“Oh! Yeah, sure.” Marvin turned around, took a few steps towards the entrance, then stopped and turned back. “So, are you, like, famous or something?”

The annoyance was replaced by surprise. “I don’t think so.”

“Not even locally?”

“Well, I suppose that depends. Why?”

“I think I read the name Newson somewhere,” Marvin muttered. “Something, like...it had something to do with Christmas, I think.”

For a brief, very brief moment, Newson’s face cracked in two, her expression falling to the ground, replaced by something of loss. She quickly recovered. “I wouldn’t know about that. Now if you’ll please.” She gestured towards the entrance again.

“Yeah, yeah. Bye, I guess.” And with that, Marvin left.

Newson straightened her jacket again, and without another word, spun around and walked past Oliver, deeper into the building.

Something was up here, and Oliver had no idea what. He was sure Laurens would’ve known something, but she wasn’t here.

With a sigh, Oliver also backed deeper into the building. He had more to do today.

——————

Her head was pounding. It felt like her brain had solidified into rock, and was being thrown against her temples.

“Hello?”

She felt like a pile of noodles. Limp and weak. All her bones were gone.

“Hey lady. A-are you alive?”

Where was she? The thought passed through her head like it was swimming through fog. The last thing she could remember...the last thing she could remember...

“I mean, you’re breathing. But I...I don’t know how awake you are. Been there for a while.”

She was at her car and...and there was that man. She thought he was Chase, but...maybe he just looked like him...

Something hit the back of her head.

Laurens opened her eyes, immediately squeezing them shut again. God, her head was pounding. Not because of the thing that hit her, that felt small and light. What was it? She cracked open her eyes again, just enough to see that she was staring at a vaguely gray wall...plaster, but unpainted. She was lying on her side, the floor cold beneath her. She groaned.

“Oh good, you’re awake. Are you okay?”

That voice...it sounded kind of familiar. But from where? Laurens didn’t answer, just groaned again.

“I’m gonna take that as a no. Who are you? How did you get here?”

Laurens squeezed her eyes shut, tears starting to rise as a blinding pain shot through her temple. She moved her arm, but found something yanked her wrist back. So she raised her other one, waving it in the direction the voice was coming from.

“Oh.” The voice was whisper-shouting now. “Should I shut up?”

She gave the voice a thumbs-up.

“Alright. Sorry.”

Laurens wasn’t sure how long it took for the hammer to stop pounding an anvil into her head. It felt like a long time. If she was forced to guess, it was fifteen minutes until it was manageable and she could open her eyes. And it felt like another half an hour before she was able to roll over and face the room at large.

She immediately recognized it as a basement—an unfinished one, with rafters overhead, dangling lightbulbs, and pillars holding up the ceiling. There were random squares of carpet on the concrete floor, but none near where she was lying. There was a door in one wall, and a small, rectangular window high on the opposite wall, with no light coming through it. A short folding table was pressed against another wall, and nearby a boxy television sat on top of a wooden pallet crate. Overall, the room was about the size of an average living room.

“Are you okay now?”

Her eyes rolled towards the voice. There was a man sitting against a support pillar on the other side of the room and—and she immediately realized why his voice was familiar. Slightly higher, and a different accent, but she understood now. The man had shoulder-length brown hair, a beard, and wide blue eyes. He wore a dirty red hoodie. This whole group...they all looked and sounded alike, didn’t they?

“Should I stop talking again?” He asked.

Laurens blinked. “No, you’re good.” Her voice rasped.

“Okay. Alright.” The man visibly relaxed. “Are you, uh...I mean, you’re probably not doing okay, but how do you feel?”

She considered this. “My head hurts,” she finally said. It sounded inadequate.

“Hm. Yeah, I think it would.” The man pursed his lips. “You, uh. Don’t look good.”

“Thanks.” She pressed a hand to her temple. The other one was still caught on something. “Who’re you?”

“My name’s Jackie.”

“Jackie Donovan?”

His eyes widened. “How do you know my name?”

Laurens tried to sit up. The pain in her head spiked, but she was able to prop her head on her hand. “My name’s Dr. Rya Laurens. I know your friend Schneep.”

“You do?!” Jackie sat up straight, but then hesitated. “Like, do you work with him? Have...you seen him recently?”

“Yes,” Laurens confirmed.

Jackie’s eyes lit up. He leaned forward. “How is he? Is he good? What happened?”

“I’m not sure ‘good’ is the right word for it,” Laurens mumbled. “You’re probably thinking right now that...that I work with Schneep at his hospital, the one where he was a surgeon. I don’t. I work at Silver Hills.”

“Oh.” Jackie leaned back again. He bit his lip, thinking. “That’s the, uh, psych ward, isn’t it?”

“No, it’s a mental hospital, it’s not the same thing,” Laurens said.

Jackie seemed to cringe. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine.”

“So, uh...” Jackie shifted where he was sitting. “H-how is he? Are they taking care of him?”

“I mean, I suppose so,” Laurens said. “I’m his therapist. I’m certainly trying to help, but I can’t speak for everyone. And I don’t know what’s happened since I...” She frowned. “What day is it?”

“Um...” Jackie glanced over at a nearby section of wall, one within arm’s length of where he was sitting. Laurens suddenly noticed the marks on the plaster, done in what looked like blue marker. Tally marks, divided into roughly eight groups. “I think it’s the twenty-first? Of August.”

Last she checked it was the fifteenth. “It...it’s been a week,” she realized. “I don’t remember any of it.”

Jackie nodded. “That happens sometimes. Let me guess, it’s all a blur? You sort of remember being, like, aware but not thinking anything?”

“...that...yeah.” Laurens shook her head, then immediately stopped; it was making her headache worse. “What am I doing here? What are you doing here?”

Jackie laughed hysterically. “I mean, your guess is as good as mine! If it’s been a week, he probably wants you alive! Unless he just hasn’t gotten around to it yet! By the way, can I have my Sharpie back?”

Laurens was confused, until she looked around the nearby area and saw a blue Sharpie on the ground. She picked it up and threw it in Jackie’s direction. The throw went wide. By a lot.

“Fuck,” Jackie swore. “Hang on.” He reached out to the Sharpie, leaning forward, but wasn’t quite there. With another muffled curse, Jackie crawled towards it. And it was then when Laurens noticed the cuff around his ankle, connected to the nearby pillar by a very short length of chain. Realizing this, Laurens looked back at her other hand, the one that kept being yanked back. And no wonder. She was handcuffed to a pipe.

“Got it!” Jackie grabbed the Sharpie by his fingertips, retreating back to his spot by the pillar. “Sorry. I just don’t want to lose this.”

“It’s okay,” Laurens said softly. “I get it.”

Jackie pulled at the sleeves of his hoodie. “So...I know you said you haven’t seen Schneep for a while, but how was he the last time you saw him?”

Laurens thought about that. “He was getting better. He’d just gone through a bad episode, though, so not 100% good.”

“He recovering?”

“Yes, as far as I could tell. I got him new medication, but hopefully it would decrease his symptoms.”

“Symptoms?” Jackie frowned. “Oh. Yeah, I guess he has been unmedicated for some time. Best to take care of that, before dealing with everything else.”

Now Laurens frowned. “Wait, everything else?”

“Yeah? I stopped seeing him in—” Jackie glanced at the tally marks again, counting. “—May, and you’re a therapist, so. You know. Everything else.” He waited, but Laurens still looked confused. “Um...you know. Being kidnapped isn’t going to leave someone okay—”

“Wait, he was kidnapped?!” Laurens repeated.

“Yes! Why do you think—look around at this place!” Jackie gestured at the room. “Do you think either of us are here because we want to be?! The hell did you think happened to Schneep?”

“I don’t know, he wouldn’t say anything about it, but the police assumed he left of his own—”

“Wait wait wait,” Jackie held up a hand. “So...the police don’t know about him?”

“Of course they know about Schneep. How could they not, after all...” Laurens hesitated. “You know. The things that happened.”

“No, I wasn’t talking about Schneep.” Jackie insisted. “I was talking about...him.”

The way he emphasized the him...it reminded Laurens of the way Schneep would talk. “Do you mean...the thing Schneep’s been hallucinating about?”

Jackie looked shocked. “So. They don’t know, then? Wait, do they think Hen did it all by himself?!”

Laurens looked at Jackie, puzzled. “He...didn’t?”

Jackie buried his face in his hands. He didn’t say anything for a while. “Oh my god,” he finally said, words muffled. They sounded almost like a sob. “You don’t know. No one knows, do they?”

Laurens sat up. She was beginning to figure out that things were a lot more complicated than she thought. But maybe now she could get some answers for everything. “Know what. Who...who is this he?”

Jackie looked up at her. His eyes were red, like he was about to cry. Like he’d realized something. Maybe he realized that, if the police didn’t know what was going on, there wasn’t a good chance of either of them ever being found.

“He calls himself Anti.”

#jacksepticeye #jacksepticegos #jacksepticeye fanfiction #septic egos #marvin the magnificent #jameson jackson #chase brody #dr schneeplestein #jackieboy man #brigid writes fanfiction #pwtimeline

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kinghoranshit · 4 years ago

Text

The Watchers (1D) - 48 Hours

Part 3

I was up before the sun had risen and sat at the post with a bowl of oatmeal and sliced bananas. It was oddly quiet again, sort of peaceful this time. Modest! really set us up right for this. Though, under the circumstances, that should be expected of them as the guys' management; especially with their money and power.

Around nine, Niall came downstairs to eat and he went back to practicing. At this point, I knew it was his way of a distraction and at least having some control of the current situation. I wasn't going to take that away from him. I just knew we were probably going to run out of the blanks soon. There was no telling what he'd do when that happened.

Around ten, Louis perched himself next to me with his own late breakfast. It was great someone wanted to keep me company. But again, part of me figured this was his way to not freak out. We sort of both needed each other right now.

And around noon, the other three finally ventured downstairs. I wasn't surprised that they slept in this time. They all ate lunch now. They were definitely the most quiet.

Louis leaned forward so his elbows rested on his knees and peeked out the slot. "Seen anything out there?"

I shrugged. "Nope."

"Then why don't we go do something else for a bit? I think I saw a couple games in one of the closets."

"Yeah, it's the one in the basement," I remarked with a smirk.

He looked unphased by my knowledge of everything in the house. "Let's go play one."

I let out a deep breath and slapped my hands on my thighs. "Sounds like a plan. Just for an hour or so."

I gasped when I saw the game LIFE in the archives. Immediately, I clicked on it to pull it up.

"What's LIFE?"

"Only the best game ever. You literally create a fake life. My mom and I used to play it when I was younger, and she played it when she was a kid."

Louis chuckled. "Sounds ancient, Kat. It can't be fun."

"Says you," I scoffed. "Come on, let's just play one run, okay?"

He looked hesitant before he broke with a heavy sigh. "Alright."

We each chose our color of car and person peg; my mom told me it used to be gender, but they changed it before I started playing. After this, we spun to see who went first and then chose the path of college or business. Louis spun a higher number so he went first. He went straight for the business route.

I snorted. "You're not going to go to college?"

"Fuck no. If I did that instead of trying music, I wouldn't be here. I've never been one great at education anyway."

"Touche. I didn't exactly have to get a degree for my work."

He looked at me curiously; his blue hues sparkled under the white lights. "You call this your job? You don't do anything else between the purges?"

I shook my head. "Nope. It pays well enough. That is if I survive the night."

"Touche," he chuckled.

I chose the college route instead because I knew that there were more job options, and it always made things more interesting in my opinion. Eventually I landed on the journalist occupation, which was one of the lower paying salaries, but that's okay. It seemed realistic to me. I think that if I hadn't been thrown into this lifetime, I'd probably be a writer of some sort. Or an instructor to teach self defense; that also felt right.

Our game flew by pretty quickly with stabs at each other, laughs, and curses. He'd ended up with four kids and I had only one. That spiraled the questions of would we want to get married one day and did we want kids. He answered yes to both and for the longest time he wasn't sure when he was going to be ready, but recently he felt that if he survived this purge he'd get married the following year. I said yes, but I wasn't sure about kids because of my lifestyle. I guess I could leave at any point; that definitely didn't feel right.

Louis's knee lightly touched mine as he tossed the controller onto the floor. "Well, I hate to admit it. That was a fun game, killed a bunch of time too."

I glanced down at our knees and soon thighs as he scooted closer. I cleared my throat with a small laugh. "I told you. Maybe we should go see what the others are up to. Make sure no one has died yet."

"Are you sure about that? There's no yelling. We could..." His eyes trailed down to my lips and he began to lean in.

I backed up and shook my head. "Louis, I... We can't... Not right now, okay? It's not the right time. If we both survive, maybe we could try it."

"Right, right," he coughed into his hand and stood from the couch. "I apologize if I came on too strong, Kat."

I nodded. "Apology accepted. It's nothing to worry about. Come on, let's head upstairs." I picked up my crossbow from where I'd leaned it against the couch and strapped it on my back.

The group was actually dispersed in the living room, everyone doing their own thing. Harry was journaling, Liam read some magazine, Zayn hummed a melody to himself, and Niall was practicing unloading and loading the cartridge of the pistol. Maddy was reading some sort of horror novel by the looks of the cover.

Niall looked up with a cheeky grin spreading on his lips. "Have fun downstairs?"

"Yeah, heard enough laughing to last me a lifetime," Harry added.

I rolled my eyes. "We were only playing the game LIFE and it was a lot of fun."

"It was." Louis winked.

That only added heat into my cheeks. "I'm going to set myself up at the post again until sundown. Any ideas for food?"

Zayn slightly raised his hand. "I make a mean dish. I've got it covered."

"Awesome." I clapped my hands before I headed over to my seat. I've realized I could use the security cameras. It was a small room though and knew I'd go stir crazy way too early into my post time. There was no shock when Louis sat down the empty chair across from me. After what felt like hours, I felt his hand entangle with mine.

"Louis-"

"I know, but holding hands won't kill us."

No, but the emotional attachment to it could. This is not what I signed up for. I know it's not what any of them signed up for.

I only gave him a small smile and looked back out the slot. My heart jumped a little at the sight of a moving figure.

"Fucker," I mumbled.

"What is it?"

I pulled my hand out of his and went to the vault that was down here to grab a sniper. I loaded it up with a single magazine round and set myself up so I could shoot them down without being noticeable. Luckily the sun was just going down so there was enough light for me to gauge before I took my shot. They were just trying to run from one tree to a bush that was closer to the bunker and I pulled the trigger. Their body went limp with a trip-like fumble to the ground. I made another aim and shot them another time to be sure.

It was then another figure came out from behind the tree and cursed again. There was no telling how many there were in this group. I took the best aim I could with them running and knew it was only a shoulder wound. Quickly I took two more shots and thankful one went into their head. I took a deep breath as I kept my finger on the trigger, looking through the lens for another figure. After at least ten minutes of posting in that uncomfortable position, I stood up and closed the slot.

"We had two friends stop by. If they found us, there's probably going to be more. As long as our security system is up, they shouldn't be able to get in the bunker."

"Please don't say stuff like that. It may happen now." He swallowed.

I licked my lips and sighed. "It's the reality, Louis. I can't lie to you guys. I'm gonna go let the rest know and then we'll eat."

It was pin-needle-dropping quiet while they received the update on the current situation. We were probably going to be fine for another few hours. I didn't suspect that any of these hunters would be smart enough to hack into the bunker system. But I also knew I'd have to be prepared for that to happen.

Dinner that night was the quietest one yet; couldn't blame them. There was nothing to say to cheer up the mood. They all tried to go back to what they were previously doing, staying at the kitchen table. I noted my senses heightened when the power went out. It took a couple seconds for my eyes to adjust, and it was now I realized how bad our situation just got.

Fuck.

Next part: 72 Hours

[Masterlist]

#1D #one direction #fanfiction #purge #1D fic #1D fanfiction #one direction fic #one direction fanfiction #niall horan #louis tomlinson #harry styles #zayn malik #liam payne #stupid #action #comedy

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