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avengersassemble-fics · 4 years ago

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Stark’s Girl

part 012/015 “something new”

previous part // next part

masterlist

word count 3.2k

an: this was the dress inspiration and tux look referenced at one point in this part. btw this was finished awhile ago and i forgot to post it? :(

The world post-blip saw a lot of changes. And with you being out of the loop already, there were some important changes you wanted to make sure you didn’t forget.

Natasha became the backbone of the Avengers (though some including you would argue she always had been.) She was the one who stayed at the Compound and worked through the intel she received from the team who was not only spread out over the world, but in space. Yeah you were still getting used to that too.

Steve wasn’t in the game anymore. Not as much, really. He was still Captain America (he’d always be Captain America), but he took a more direct approach with helping people. The last you knew he was running a help group in the city for those who needed the support.

Tony did something that changed your life along with his. He started his own family. A few months after the snap, he was walking by your side through Central Park when he broke the news to you that Pepper and him were going through with the weeding in two weeks. You were shocked, but happy of course.

“We just don’t want to wait anymore,” Tony told you. “Can’t ask her to wait forever on me.”

It was beautiful. Like you pointed out before, Tony liked to be dramatic. But you couldn’t help but shed a tear at seeing your new sister-in-law come down the aisle. Their vows were very much themselves, shared jokes that only they understood (something about 12% Tony told her at the altar.) The only downside to their wedding was going stag, and also having to see Steve there.

Ever since you were hit with the memories of what happened the night of your parents crash, you had these moments of, for lack of a better phrase, pure unfiltered anger. Though those moments were far and few now that you were back to a “normal” life (as normal as this could be) you still found yourself zoning out on occasion. And that wasn’t safe. You couldn’t help but swirl the flute of champagne around as your mind drifted off to your last episode.

It was night time, on a full moon no less. The air had a slight chill to it, enough to where you could see the hot breath of air released from your victim. They ran, jumping over the foliage that covered the ground. They were frantic, which made this easier for you. You moved slowly as they tripped over a branch, sliding across the cold ground as you towered over them. The woman cried out, crawling over the leaves scattered over the ground. She didn’t turn to face you until you came to a stop at her feet. You didn’t even recognize the tears in her eyes.

“Пожалуйста,” (Please) she begged you. Your dead set eyes didn’t budge as she pushed herself up to a seated position. “Почему вы это делаете?” (Why are you doing this?)

You clenched your fist by your side, the anger coming up to a boil. “Ты меня не помнишь?” (You don’t remember me?) She shook her head and your eye twitched. You crouched down to look her in the eye and tilted your head. “Ты сказал мне, что поможешь мне почувствовать се��я лучше ... И что моя семья идет за мной.” (You told me you’d help me feel better.. And that my family was coming for me.)

Something registered over her face. Fear. Recognition. It all laced together in a paled look on her face.

You stood again as she began to cry. You heard her pleas as you moved behind her, pulling the rope from your hip. Your gloved hands wrapped both ends over your knuckle so it was tight, and in a snap pulled it over her neck. She gasped and writhed under the pressure, but you never once flinched. You never felt her body stop, or her breaths for that matter, and didn’t snap out of it until you were in the shower. You were just standing under the water, which was laced with red, mumbling to yourself.

“I hope you remember them.”

A hand came down on your shoulder. You did your best to hide your jump, but Tony noticed. He didn’t say anything, but he did see it. He gave you a squeeze and you reached your free hand up to place over it. “I’m glad you’re back.”

“Me too,” you told him. You could see Pepper through the dancing crowd, and you smiled a bit. “You should be dancing with your wife.”

“And you should be enjoying yourself,” Tony replied.

“I will when you do,” you poked at him. He gave your hand a kiss before disappearing past the bodies. You rubbed at your neck and set your drink down at the table before playing with the fabric of your dress. The one slit up your leg was a good choice on Natasha’s part. But it all felt too stuffy. Beautiful lilac color, but just a little too tight around your--

“Didn’t come with anyone?” an all too familiar voice asked you. You flattened the fabric back down and let out a little sigh.

“I don’t really.. Know anyone who wasn’t already coming,” you said. Steve stood before you in a dark suit and lacked the black striped tie he was wearing earlier. He nodded but you shrugged. “I just met Wong though. He’s nice.”

“Yeah he is,” Steve replied. You noticed the song change, something a little slower paced. The lights dimmed down a bit and you shifted a bit in your seat. “Would you like to dance?”

You thought it over for a moment. It seemed like the dance floor was packed, barely anyone was left amongst the tables, and you rubbed your arm. “I don’t really know how to..”

There was a hint of a smile, enough to make your stomach twist, and he offered his hand to you. “Lucky for you I’m a professional.”

You bit back a smile, and slowly placed your hand in his. Steve helped you stand and he led you out to the floor. There was enough space for the two of you, and he turned back to face you. The hand that engulfed yours tightened a bit, his fingers gently grazed over the back of your hand. Your other hand floated over his arm and rested on his shoulder, and you felt his other hand on your waist.

Steve led, taking a step to the side and you followed. You were closer than you would have preferred, but with a glance around the room the lack of space seemed standard. You felt like you were gliding across the floor and you looked back at your partner. “I had no idea you had such a talent.”

“Ah well I had promised Nat I would be prepared the next time I asked someone to dance,” he explained. Steve suddenly removed his hand from your waist and twirled you around. When you met his gaze again you had a raised brow, and when he pulled you back into him you laughed a bit.

“Kudos to her then,” you said barely above a whisper. You felt his fingers seem to rub against your side, and then he spoke softly.

“I would do anything for my best gal.”

There were some more changes that quickly followed within that year.

Tony really started a family. Pepper gave birth to the cutest little girl, and they ended up naming her Morgan. Who had known such a small thing could make you feel so much? You fell in love with her as soon as Tony placed her in your arms. He was teary eyed as he reached out and stroked his finger over her chubby cheek.

You knew he would do anything for this girl. And you were right behind him on that.

It was actually at her first birthday party (though this was more a party for the adults then her) was the next time you saw Steve and Natasha. Her hair was grown out, the fiery red tint mixing in with the previous white dye job. You could see the bags under her eyes and the tension in her shoulders, but after a few drinks she was much more relaxed. Pepper had put Morgan down for a nap, which left Tony, Nat, and you all mingling in a circle while Steve kept his distance.

You were grateful not to have eyes on the back of your head, but you could feel Steve’s burning into you. Tony seemingly got distracted by Pepper, excusing himself from the small and intimate group to aid his wife. Natasha glanced at you from the corner of her eye, taking a sip of the beer in her hand. “So what are you doing nowadays?”

“Besides the occasional diaper change?.. Not much. It’s quiet out here.”

It was true. Tony and Pepper relocated to a cabin outside of the city and the hustle and bustle. You loved Tony, loved being around them both, but you couldn’t help but feel out of place. Or like a bother even. This was Tony’s time to connect to his new family, and you couldn’t help but feel you were intruding. While your thoughts wandered off, Natasha nodded a bit, resting her closest arm to you on the back of the couch, shifting a bit to face you better. “If you wanted.. I could always use your help back at the Compound.”

You glanced back the way Tony had disappeared back into their home. You knew by the way you described it that it was his, not yours, and slowly you nodded. Before you spoke you could see Steve almost smile a bit to himself before turning his back to you. “I.. I think that would be good.”

It’s been four years since the Snap. That was really all the biggest changes you had experienced or felt you needed to catch people up on. Breaking the news to Tony that you were moving back to New York and going back to work with Natasha was a bitter pill for him to swallow, but you reassured him you’d be fine. You needed something to focus your mind on, and he understood for the most part. There was a moment though that made you nearly back out, and Tony had definitely caught it that time.

Something had played on tv that night as you helped Tony wash the dinner dishes. Morgan should’ve been in bed by then, Pepper probably waiting for Tony to join her, but Tony truly hadn’t adjusted to using normal appliances. He set off the faucet spray three times, which was two less than last week, so you took over washing duties while he dried. You had only caught a notion of what was being said on the television, but the news anchor speaking made you stop. Tony was chatting next to you, but you turned around to look at the television, only to see the flash of the story playing.

There was a body found in the woods in Russia of a woman in her mid fifties, who was strangled to death with what was identified as rope found nearby. The area was clean of any evidence, especially given how long the body was out there before hunting season started and a couple happened upon it, but it could be linked to three other murders reported on in the last 6 years. You don’t know what happened, but Tony placing his hand on your shoulder was what set you off.

The emptiness that would swallow your mind fell upon you like a curtain closing on a play. Tony would later tell you that the light in your eyes disappeared, and it was as if you didn’t know him. He said that you had very successfully removed his hand from you and shoved him back in the cabinets, rattling the dishes inside. It wasn’t hard enough to hurt him, but it was enough to stun him for a few moments and give you time to desperately escape.

Tony said it took him a few moments to regain his composure, but the worry he felt propelled him out the cabin and out of earshot of Pepper’s calls for him. He wasn’t far behind you, and his calls of your name resulted in nothing but quick looks back at him, but one thing was clear to him: you weren’t okay. The next thing you remembered was something hitting your shoulder in a small jolt, which later Tony confirmed was a shock from his watch (still in testing), and him hovering over you in the darkness.

It was enough to make him concerned about you going through with your decision to rejoin Natasha. But for you it was enough to solidify your decision.

“Tony I don’t want to.. Do that around Morgan,” you whispered to him, careful with your words. “Besides you need this time with them. And I’m sure Pepper needs you more right now.”

“I can’t knowingly let you leave without even knowing what the hell is going on with you,” Tony whispered yelled at you. “You’ve avoided this conversation for two weeks, can’t you tell me what’s going on?”

You narrowed your glare at him but he only matched you. After a few seconds you grumbled in surrender and rested the last piece of clothing you were folding and walked towards the back door. Tony carefully placed Morgan into the low crib before following you outside. You faced the lake, the breeze pushing past you and into the house in a cool breeze, and Tony came up by your side and rested his hip against the railing.

“Talk to me,” he urged you. You sighed and finally faced him, resting your hip as well on the railing.

“After learning the truth I’ve been having these.. Episodes,” you told him. “It’s like a blanket falls over me and I can’t find my way out of it until something else pulls it off. And by that time I’m not where I remember I was. Time has passed, something has happened.”

“How many times has this happened?”

“Last time made five,” you admitted guiltily. “I don’t know what causes it, or how to stop it.. But being busy, keeping my mind on track, seems to help the most.”

Tony thought your words over, before nodding to himself and looking out to the lake. You followed his lead and looked back out to the setting sun, the breeze and chirps of birds lulling the silence, before Tony spoke again.

“If you go you have to check in with me,” Tony compromised. “I’m going to make sure FRIDAY sends me updates on your brain waves, try and figure out what triggers it if it happens again.”

You smiled to yourself and linked your arm through his and came to rest your head against his shoulder. “You’re truly the best brother I could’ve asked for.”

Tony let out a pfft noise, before lifting his arm to wrap around your shoulder. He placed a chaste kiss to your forehead as you both stared out at the lake. “We’ll get through this together.”

Tony wouldn’t admit this to anyone, especially you, but after you departed for the city he made a house call a few days later. Tony stood before the apartment door unsure if this was the best idea, and ready to flee if no one came in 10 more seconds. But when he heard the footsteps on the other side he let out a sigh and mumbled to himself. “This is for her sake Tony.”

The door opened to reveal his former friend. Steve Rogers looked nearly the same as the last time he saw him at Morgan’s party (which he was only invited to because of Pepper and Natasha.) Full beard, tired eyes, and a surprised expression. “Tony?”

Tony motioned between the two of them with the glasses he pulled off while waiting. “We need to talk.”

Steve took a moment to think it over before nodding and stepping aside for Tony to enter. Tony carefully took a step in, taking in the environment and really noticing how.. Empty it all felt. Steve closed and latched the door behind his guest, which made Tony look back at him. “Should maybe leave that unlock in case anything happens.”

“I don’t think that would be necessary,” Steve replied. But either way he unlocked the latch before looking back at Tony. “But if it makes you more comfortable.”

“It was more for you then for me,” Tony replied back. Steve smiled a bit and nodded, and Tony tapped his hand with his glasses. “Gotta say the place hasn’t come along that much since you showed Pepper the photos.”

“You saw those?” Steve asked and Tony shrugged. Steve looked around and sighed a bit. “Was never planning on settling down here, but things change.”

Tony wondered if the sentiment was in regards to his sister. More than likely it was but he chose to ignore it. He didn’t even want to think about the unsettling feeling he had when he thought about how Steve handled things all those years ago. “I wanted to come and talk to you about something.. Personal.”

Steve raised a brow and crossed his arms over his chest. “Is everything okay?”

“Yes and no,” Tony sighed. He sat himself down on the couch in Steve’s plainly decorated living room, and unbuttoned his jacket in the process. “Not sure if you are aware given you aren’t in the game anymore, but Natasha invited my sister back to the Compound.. And she said yes.”

“Natasha may have mentioned it,” Steve carefully said.

“Figured as much, “ Tony replied. “Which is great, fine with me. I know she’s been feeling stuck recently.. But something happened a couple weeks ago.”

Steve’s posture changed and it unsettled Tony. But he had to punish that aside for now. This wasn’t about him and his feelings. “Is she okay?”

“I don’t know,” Tony answered in almost a whisper. Steve’s face visibly fell in a frown and concern. “She’s apparently been experiencing black outs. Aggression. I don’t know how to help her from so far away.. So I came to ask a favor.”

Steve nodded and took a step closer. “Whatever you need Tony.”

“Check in on her will you? But not in a prying way so she thinks I set you up to it.. Be a friend, “ Tony asked. Steve nodded and Tony stood, smoothing his clothes again. “Just please.. Let me know if something happens.”

“I promise,” Steve told him. He led Tony back to the door, opening it for him to exit. But Tony stopped after making it out to the hallway and turned back around pointing a finger at Steve’s chest.

“So help me Rogers.. Don’t go and mess with her feelings again or I will come here and finish what we started in Siberia.”

Steve didn’t even get a chance to respond before Tony slid his glasses back on and disappeared back towards the stairs. Instead Steve shut his door and stood there for a moment to think to himself. He was going to make sure he made it up not only to Tony, but to you.

This would be the start of something new.

- - - - - - - - - -

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miracleonice87 · 4 years ago

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juliaswinterwriting challenge, pt. 2

1. “Take another step and I can’t be held responsible for my actions.” with Mathew Barzal

a/n: finally! my second of two submissions for @wondershawns winter writing challenge. 6.6K. also features Mat’s boyfriend Beau lol.

summary: Mat has been falling for Beau’s cousin Genevieve since the day he met her. the main thing standing in his way? her.

warnings: swearing. alcohol. a smattering of angst. mentions of sex (not explicit). a healthy dose of fluff.

_____

Mat couldn’t have heard his best friend correctly. Convinced of that, he shook his head and tried to snap himself out of his stupor.

“Wait, Beau… what?”

“Yeah, Genevieve’s moving in with me,” Beau repeated casually, slapping a puck into the back of the net. “Finally convinced her. She just broke up with that idiot and she’s gonna go to NYU.”

The guys were on the ice at the practice facility for the first time since arriving back in New York after a long summer. They were conducting an informal skate to get their feet under them again, but most of the time had been spent simply catching up with one another — shooting pucks, yes, but also shooting the breeze. Mat had enjoyed the laidback nature of the on-ice session thus far, but he felt an undeniable jolt of electricity in his every nerve when Beau said that name — the one that elicited a thousand different feelings all at once.

Genevieve.

The girl who shared her cousin Beau’s big blue eyes and endless charm, but had a sassy wit and tender heart all of her own. The girl who was more like his teammate’s sister than a more distant relative. The girl who Mat had fallen for the very first day he met her, when Beau invited him to his family home in Quebec for a visit, now three summers ago. The girl who he’d been hopelessly, helplessly entranced by ever since.

Suddenly, a rubber disc was flying at Mat’s feet, the product of Marty dishing him a pass from the opposite side of the zone, expecting Mat to tap it into the goal as they’d already done a dozen times that afternoon. Instead, Mat let it whiz past him, only giving the puck so much as a glance when it bounced off the half-wall.

“Barzy!” Marty yelled from the far boards with a surprised chuckle, smacking his blade on the ice repeatedly. “Fuckin’ pay attention, kid!”

“You hockey much?” Beau teased, furrowing his brows at his teammate’s blank expression. Beau thought to himself that it looked as though Mat had just seen a ghost. “What’s’a matter with you?”

Mat turned to see Marty, Beau, Ebs, and Anders all looking at him as if he were a creature from a different planet. He cleared his throat and hunched once more overtop his skates, gliding in a tight circle before he faced them again.

“Nothin’,” he said nonchalantly, with a sniff. He put his stick to the ice and readied himself, trying to push Beau’s revelation to the back of his mind and focus on the task at hand. “Let’s go again.”

“Wait,” Marty said, putting a gloved hand up to halt the skating men around him. “I forgot. Isn’t Barzy, like, in love with that girl?”

Beau slowly turned his head toward Mat, who swallowed hard, trying to will his cheeks not to redden. Anders and Ebs chuckled, hands resting atop the knobs of their sticks.

“Shut up, Marty,” Mat nearly pleaded, anxiously tapping his stick on the ice. “Just... let’s go again. Come on.”

_____

In the three years since they’d first met, the math broke down pretty simply: Genevieve had had a boyfriend for all of those three years, until a month ago; Mat had kissed her exactly once on the forehead after putting her drunk ass to bed during a weekend visit to Beau’s; and they had made exactly zero progress toward becoming what Mat had always wanted them to be. Together.

One more number was soon added to the equation, not long after she moved to the city — the number one. Sponsored by the number of times they’d now had sex.

Genevieve’s twenty-first birthday fell right after she started at NYU as a junior transfer, when the Isles boys had just started camp. After a night at the club celebrating her, in a vodka-induced haze, with Tito’s attention wrapped up in a pretty blonde, Mat and Genevieve snuck away from the group, into an Uber, and off to his apartment in Brooklyn.

Mat realized immediately that he’d never felt a high like the one he did when she was kissing him, and he chased it all night long. He lost himself in her in every way as they melded together between his sheets.

He truly thought that her birthday was going to be the start of something between them. Something real. More than just a childish crush, stolen glances, and timid, blushing stares.

Which is why his heart broke when he awoke the next morning, after their passionate night gave way to dawn and the effects of the alcohol had faded, to hear Genevieve speaking quietly on the phone.

“Yeah, yeah, I went home with someone... No, you don’t know him. Just a guy from class.”

Mat felt a tightness in his throat and tried to swallow it.

“Shut up, Anth,” Genevieve said with a lighthearted groan.

Shit. Of course it was Beau.

“Brunch? Uh... yeah. Yeah, I can do brunch. I just have to come back to your place and change first... No, no, I’ll just grab an Uber. Yes, I’m sure.”

She was leaving. She was trying to sneak out of his place, while he was presumably still asleep. Despite that, pathetic as he felt for it, he didn’t want her to go. That was the last thing he wanted.

“Okay. Yeah, that’s fine. Okay, see you then. Bye.” Genevieve ran a hand through her dark locks and blew out a long breath.

“Who was that?” Mat muttered in a sleepy voice, making Genevieve jump. Despite trying to ignore it, he couldn’t help but notice the way she pulled his sheets tighter around her naked body at the realization that he was, indeed, awake. His chest clenched at the sight. Genevieve cleared her throat, stalling, before answering.

“That was Anth,” she said, tossing her phone on the bed in front of her. Mat watched the way her bare spine hunched as she sighed and then looked at him over her freckled shoulder. It took everything in Mat not to lean over and pepper her soft skin with warm kisses.

“He wants to go to brunch. The three of us. He’s gonna text you and invite you. He doesn’t know I’m here...” she spoke, wringing her fingers.

“Okay,” Mat said quietly, sitting up on an elbow. “Well, I’ll drive you back to his place—“

“No, no. I’m just gonna order an Uber,” she said hastily, followed by another long sigh. He wrinkled his brow, confused.

“We can’t tell him, Mat,” Genevieve said sadly, tossing him a forlorn glance, her fingers pressing into her temple. “We just... I can’t. I’m sorry.”

His heart broke a bit right then. In his mind, they would admit the truth about last night to Beau this morning, he would chirp them about it endlessly but be happy that they were happy, and they would all live happily ever after.

Evidently, Genevieve had different plans.

“So I’m gonna go, and then you can meet us at the cafe. Okay?” she asked, turning to face him straight on, seemingly so that he saw as little of her nude form as possible, despite having seen all of it last night.

Mat nodded, swallowing again. “You’re sure this is what you want?”

They both knew he wasn’t talking about the Uber. He was referencing something much more consequential than her ride home.

Genevieve pressed her lips together, looking down at her lap before meeting his eyes again. She nodded slowly.

“I just... I don’t think this is a good idea, Maty. I just got out of a relationship, and I don’t know how Anth would feel about...” She gestured between the two of them. Mat tried not to flinch, though he nearly did just that.

He nodded. Genevieve noted the pain in his eyes and averted her own to avoid being crushed by the knowledge that she had singlehandedly inflicted it upon him. Eventually, he found his voice again.

“Okay. Fine. I understand, I guess. I think you know how I feel about you, especially now, but it’s... it’s whatever you wanna do, G,” Mat said.

Genevieve blinked at him a few times, and for a fleeting moment as she opened her mouth, he thought she might change her mind.

His hopes crashed down in front of him as she shifted uncomfortably under the covers and requested, “Can you maybe just... look away while I get dressed?”

That time, Mat flinched.

_____

Mat couldn’t believe his eyes when he saw who was calling as he made his way home from the rink after practice on a snowy Monday nearly three months later, in early December. He pressed the green button on his dash display, said hello, and her fluttering voice filled his car.

“Mat… hi! Are you busy?”

Even if he were, Mat would’ve lied.

“No, no, not at all. What’s going on, G? How are you?” he asked as he switched lanes, fingers suddenly drumming on the steering wheel as nervous energy coursed through him.

Since the morning after they’d hooked up, the most they had communicated directly was texting half a dozen or so times, with Genevieve congratulating Mat on a good game or Mat asking if she knew where Beau was. Occasionally they’d bump into each other after a game, the ones she could actually make it to given her insane class schedule, or at the bar, and they’d both hug awkwardly and inevitably blush like schoolchildren. Mat missed her like hell, and he gently reminded her of that each time they touched base, but he respected her decision, even if he wasn’t fully convinced it was the right one.

Little did he know, Genevieve wasn’t fully convinced, either, but she willed herself to stand her ground, despite the sway he still held over her, without him even realizing it.

“I’m good. I’m good. Listen, um, I know this probably seems out of the blue, but… would you wanna meet up for coffee?” he heard her ask.

Mat’s brows shot up at her inquiry. He had long ago written off any chance at spending alone time with her and was caught off guard by her invitation.

“Sure,” Mat answered, though somewhat hesitantly. “I’d love to, you know that.”

She must have heard the surprise in his voice because she followed up with, “It’s just, I really miss you… and besides, there’s something else I need to talk to you about.”

Mat couldn’t keep the smug expression from his face. “Oh yeah? Other than just how much you miss me?” he asked arrogantly. He could practically hear Genevieve roll her eyes as she huffed into the phone.

“Just shut up and come here, you egomaniac,” she giggled. “I’m at my usual spot.”

“Alright, I’ll be there in fifteen. See you then. And, G?”

“Uh huh?”

A smile twitched at Mat’s lips as he replied.

“I’m glad you called,” he said, sincerity dripping from his words.

He heard the smile in her voice when she remarked, “I’m glad you answered. See you soon.”

_____

When Mat walked into the coffee shop minutes later, Genevieve was holed up at a corner table, notebooks and loose papers alike strung before her in a mass of organized chaos. She touched the tip of her tongue to her top lip and squinted at her laptop screen through her thick, tortoise-shell framed glasses.

Mat had never seen her wearing glasses before. Though he didn’t even think such a feat was possible, he fell a little more in love with her and became a little more tortured by her right then and there.

He approached her slowly so as not to startle her. As he came nearer, she didn’t even look up, deep in concentration as she typed. When she finally glanced away from her screen and toward a notebook across the table from her, Mat playfully crouched into her line of vision, tilting his chin upward as he waited for her to spot him.

Eventually, her eyes met his and immediately glimmered. She flushed slightly, putting her hand to her forehead with a groan.

“Oh, god, Maty, how long have you been standing there?” Genevieve asked, an apology in her tone.

Mat smiled and tried not to dwell on the way his pulse quickened when his nickname fell from her lips. “Long enough to observe that you might need your glasses prescription changed. You’re not supposed to squint at your screen like that, G,” he warned, approaching her and scanning the multitude of documents before her. “What is all this?” he asked, letting his gaze drift back to hers.

“It’s for my event this weekend. That’s kind of what I wanted to talk to you about,” Genevieve responded tentatively. “But first, coffee,” she said, reaching for her wallet tucked inside her bookbag.

Mat reached for her hand, pushing it away and shaking his head.

“No, c’mon,” he insisted. “Let me. What can I get you?”

Genevieve looked at their touching fingers as he slowly pulled his away, then she gave him that killer half-grin of hers and breathed a sigh, giving into him since she knew trying to protest was useless.

“How ‘bout a peppermint tea? I think I’m overcaffeinated at this point anyway so I should probably take it easy on the coffee,” she admitted with a chuckle as she tucked some hair behind her ear. Mat nodded.

“Smart girl. Tea coming right up,” he promised with a squeeze of her shoulder. Genevieve thanked him and watched as he sauntered to the counter to stand in line.

His hair was longer, and she thought it made him look even more handsome, if that was even imaginable. He caught her ogling at him as he turned the corner to wait for his order, and she simply pursed her lips into a tight smirk and tried to refocus on her notes. He tried to refocus on anything but her. They both were clumsy in their attempts.

When he returned, he placed a large paper cup before her and she wrapped her hands around it with an appreciative hum.

“You’re the best,” Genevieve praised. He waved her off as he took a sip of his cappuccino.

“So why have I been summoned here, G?” Mat then asked, teasing in his question.

Genevieve bit at her full bottom lip and Mat tried to force his eyes not to linger there as she snapped her notebook shut and readjusted herself in her chair, clearing her throat.

“Okay, so you know I’m taking this event planning class this semester? It’s part of my major. And our final project is to plan a large-scale event,” she began, and he nodded as he sipped at his coffee, amused by her bubbly mannerisms as she spoke. “Well, so… a friend of mine in class kind of accidentally let slip that I’m Anthony’s cousin, and it turns out that the prof is friends with some Isles execs. She suggested that I plan a gala to benefit the team children’s foundation, and obviously since the professor fed me that idea, I couldn’t really say no. Especially since it’s 50 percent of my final grade, and obviously because it’s for such a great cause.” Mat nodded again, already seeing where this was going, but not exactly minding it.

“So since you guys don’t play this Saturday night, Anth had originally told me that he would go and kinda be the face of the team for me, but he backed out this morning,” Genevieve said, playing absentmindedly with her fingers in her lap. Mat was getting ready to take another swig when she added that last little tidbit, and he narrowed his eyes at her as he lowered his cup.

“What do you mean he backed out? What the hell else does he have to do?” Mat didn’t try to hide his annoyance — Beau had practically begged this poor girl to come and live with him and go to school in New York, and now he was jeopardizing her academic future?

“I don’t know,” Genevieve shrugged. “He said some girl he’s been talking to bought him tickets to the Nets game on Saturday night and he—“

“Oh, you gotta be fuckin’ kidding me...” Mat spat, then noticed the disappointment in her features, and immediately softened. “So, what can I do to help?” he asked, deciding that he would deal with the Beau issue later.

She leaned forward, elbows resting on her knees, and drew a deep breath as she summoned the courage to make her request.

“I was wondering if... if you’d go with me?” she eventually mumbled.

Mat was certain he had misheard, just like that day months ago on the ice. He licked his bottom lip quickly and sat back in his chair.

“Say again?” he deadpanned.

“I was wondering if you’d come with me,” Genevieve spoke, clearer and faster this time. “I know I don’t even deserve to ask you a favor like that, and you probably already have plans anyway, and I—“

“G, stop,” Mat interrupted dryly.

“It’s not like you’re my second choice or anything,” Genevieve continued, talking with her hands just like Beau did when he got flustered. “I wanted to ask you — really, I did. Trust me. It’s just… I was afraid Anth would be weird so—“

“G, stop,” Mat laughed, his voice firmer this time as his hand moved to rest on her knee. “I don’t need an explanation. Of course I’ll come with you. I’d be honored.”

Genevieve finally exhaled, throwing her hands over her face in sheer excitement and shaking her head back and forth.

“Ugh, Mathew Barzal, I could kiss you right now!” she exclaimed before she could pay a second thought to her words. She covered her mouth then, eyes bugging behind her glasses. Mat couldn’t help but giggle at her reaction.

“Well, I wouldn’t be opposed to that,” he quipped softly as he raised his coffee to his lips once more, smirking pompously at Genevieve as she breathed a laugh.

As she launched into the details of the event — what he should wear, what she would need from him, when he could pick her up — he found himself spacing. No detail she shared much mattered to him — not really. It didn’t affect his decision. No matter what this would cost him, literally or figuratively, he was all in.

All in on the gala, all in on Genevieve. All in.

She was letting him in, however little, and he planned to take full advantage of the opportunity.

Mat insisted on giving Genevieve a ride to Beau’s apartment after they’d finished their drinks, convincing her that she needed to take a break from working and get a change of scenery. Surprisingly, she complied. He realized as she sat in his passenger seat just how much he had missed the way he felt in her presence. The world seemed to be in full color only when Genevieve was by his side.

Sadly, the drive was a short one, and soon Genevieve was hurriedly pulling her bookbag into her lap as Mat pulled over to the curb near the building’s entrance. Preparing for her to jump out of the car without giving him a second look, Mat was surprised when he felt her fingertips grasp his jaw. She placed a lingering kiss to his cheek, closer to his mouth than could be called chaste, and smoothed her thumb across the stubble on his chin.

“I really have to go, even though I don’t want to, but thanks a million, Maty,” Genevieve said, beaming at him as she pulled the straps of her bag onto her shoulders. “I can’t wait for this weekend. Bye.”

With that, she was scampering off, throwing him one last smile before disappearing through the doorway.

With a pursed exhale, Mat rested his forehead against the steering wheel and tried to talk himself down from the clusterfuck his brain had just launched into at her actions.

_____

The week dragged on for Mat. When Saturday finally arrived, he took far longer than usual to get ready, even FaceTiming his sister for her recommendations on the best tie and shoe combination to match his navy suit.

When Liana furrowed her eyebrows, curious why he cared so much about what he wore to what seemed to her to be a fairly routine team event, Mat knew what was coming and braced for it as she opened her mouth.

“Is this like a date or something—“

“Goodbye, Liana. Thank you,” Mat said curtly, cutting her off and quickly ending the call. Of course, it rang again immediately, but Mat chose to ignore it and tucked the device in his pocket as he gave himself one last glance in the mirror.

When the phone rang yet again, he huffed, prepared to answer and then immediately hang up on his dear, annoying baby sister, when he noticed it wasn’t Liana this time.

Stepping into his closet to choose an overcoat, he smiled and tapped the green button.

“Don’t tell me you’re cancelling on me now, G,” Mat said, half in jest, half in masked terror. “I just got dressed.”

To his dismay, Genevieve sounded panicked on the other end of the line.

“Uh, no, quite the opposite, actually,” she said nervously. “I’m kind of — okay, well, completely — freaking out over here, and I was wondering if you could maybe come over early and convince me not to call my professor and tell her I’m sick so I don’t have to see what a complete disaster this night turns out to be?”

Mat had pulled on a coat and flicked off the lights in his closet while she was talking, and he shifted the phone to his other ear to respond once she stopped rambling.

“Don’t do that,” he said firmly. “I’m leaving now. Sit tight. I’ll be right there, okay?”

Mat heard her breathe a sigh of relief. “You’re the best, Maty,” she said. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

His smile widened — he was always happy to play the role of knight in shining armor, but it meant more to him to be able to play it for Genevieve. His chest puffed with each word of her gratitude.

“You’re welcome, love,” he said before he realized the pet name that fell from his lips. But he couldn’t regret it, refused to even try, so he bid her goodbye for now and headed for the parking garage to ride away on his white stallion — er, Cadillac.

Ten minutes later — after navigating a route that should have taken at least fifteen — he was on her doorstep, the dozen red roses he had bought that morning in hand. Mat tried to act as though he wasn’t surprised to find her still in a set of Beau’s Isles sweats, donning her glasses, with her makeup half-finished and her hair not yet fixed. He glanced at the clock above her head that indicated only about forty minutes until they needed to leave the apartment, but decided to ignore that minor detail.

“Hi, gorgeous,” Mat said charmingly, extending the flowers to her. “These are for you. For good luck.”

Genevieve’s lips turned up momentarily into a grin, then folded into a frown, and she looked as though she may burst into tears at any moment. Forcing his way in the door, Mat set the bouquet on the entry table and gathered her into his chest, resting a hand on the back of her head and rubbing small circles on her back with the other.

“Hey, hey,” he soothed. “What’s goin’ on, G? Talk to me, baby.” Oh, shit. Another pet name. He really had to stop doing that.

Genevieve seemed unaffected by the term, though, and drew a shaking breath before squeezing his waist tightly and stepping away.

“Everything! This event is gonna crash and burn and it’s all my fault,” she cried, flinging her hands skyward for dramatic effect.

“What do you mean?” Mat inquired. “And while we talk, why don’t we go to your room so you can keep getting ready?” he added, placing a gentle hand to her hip. Thankfully, she nodded, despite heaving a sigh. As he turned them down the hall, she let her swirling thoughts erupt.

“The caterer called an hour ago and said they didn’t put in an order big enough for tonight so they’re gonna have to supplement the food with basically whatever they can find,” Genevieve began as they entered her room, motioning for Mat to take a seat on her meticulously made bed, which felt far more intimate than he was prepared for, not that he was complaining. She sat on the vanity bench nearby and hurriedly applied eyeshadow to her lids, prattling all the while. As she spoke, Mat glanced down at the dress laid out on the foot of the bed on a hanger, and he swore he forgot his own name for a moment as he gaped at it blankly.

“And I specifically ordered peonies, not poppies. Like how the fuck does a florist mess that up! I just—“

“Wait, sorry to interrupt, but this is what you’re wearing?” Mat choked out, sliding the shiny fabric between his first two fingers and thumb. Genevieve nodded, hurriedly fastening on a pearl cluster earring smack dab in the midst of her blush and bronzer routine.

“Yeah, Anthony insisted on taking me shopping and made me buy the most expensive goddamn dress in the store for some reason,” she grumbled. Mat made a mental note to thank Beau profusely. “I told him I couldn’t accept it but — wait, why? You hate it, don’t you?”

Mat’s eyes bugged at her question before he swallowed hard, shaking his head furiously. “No, no, it’s just... you’re gonna look so unfair,” he chuckled. Genevieve gave him a disbelieving look.

“Hardly,” she disagreed, apparently not noticing how gone he was at the moment. “Anyways, it doesn’t matter what I wear because it’s going to be an absolute shit show.”

She threw a fluffy brush into her makeup caddy with a clatter, and Mat approached where she sat fussing over herself anxiously in the mirror. She couldn’t help but notice the way her breath caught in her throat when his long fingers came to rest on her shoulders, stretching to her collarbone as he gazed at her intensely in their reflection. She felt herself relax under his touch.

“I know you’ve convinced yourself of that,” Mat began, his voice low, slow, sincere. “And that probably nothing I say will change your mind. But even if the food is wrong and the flowers are wrong and it doesn’t look exactly how you pictured it, it’s still gonna be a success. Because you made it happen. And you’re the most organized, most dedicated, hardest-working person I know,” he said as she finished applying her lipstick and sat up straight with a long, calming breath.

“And you’re the sweetest person I know,” she admitted airily. Mat beamed, squeezing her trap muscles. “Thank you,” she added, her hand finding his and bringing it to her lips, their eyes never straying from one another’s in the mirror until she stood up to face him.

He threw her hair over her shoulders and gawked at the perfect placement of her makeup, however much she had rushed its application.

“Makeup,” Mat spoke, drawing a pretend v-shape in thin air. “Check. One thing at a time.”

She snickered a bit, her hands ghosting across his suit coat for a moment, enchanted, before she snapped back to the task at hand.

“Okay, I have to go curl my hair, and then get dressed. And then, I’m ready,” she promised as Mat nodded and slowly returned to his seat on her bed. As she pulled a pair of strappy heels from underneath the bedskirt, he smiled down at her so fondly, and she realized she wouldn’t mind having him sitting right here more often.

Certainly wouldn’t mind.

She tossed Mat a wink as she picked up the dress, too, and hustled into the bathroom, suddenly feeling much more confident than she had without his presence — his reassurance.

Fifteen minutes later, after chattering with Mat through the door while taming her hair, she pulled on the dress and smoothed her hands over the skirt of it, tugged on her heels, and pulled open the door.

Mat stopped abruptly in the middle of a story about razzing her cousin at practice and stood to his feet, neither moving an inch.

Finally, Genevieve sighed and motioned toward her attire.

“So?” she spoke simply. “Acceptable?”

Mat scoffed, literally scoffed, and repeated, “Acceptable?” He rubbed a hand over his mouth and couldn’t help the boyish giggle he let out. “More than acceptable, G. You look... wow. Incredible. So incredible.”

Genevieve could admit to herself that she was pleased with his reaction — in fact, she couldn’t quite seem to detach her eyes from his face as his stare roamed her figure. She leaned against the doorpost and smirked.

“Remember what I said earlier this week? About how I could just kiss you right now?” she asked mischievously. He nodded slowly, eyes still studying the way her dress pulled tight in exactly the right places, then finding their way back to hers. “Kinda feeling that way again right now,” she added.

He exhaled sharply, standing up straighter, as she took a couple of paces toward him.

“Is that so?” he teased. She nodded, chewing at the inside of her cheek. Mat hummed in anticipation as she came ever closer. “You sure about that?” he asked firmly, extending his arms with his palms out toward her, trying his damnedest to keep her at a distance.

She only nodded again, a gleam in her eye, and paused just a couple of feet from him, waiting for his approval.

“Take another step looking like that and I can’t be held responsible for my actions,” Mat warned, giving her one final out.

A small laugh passed through Genevieve’s nose, and she looked down at their feet as she daringly moved forward.

“I’m okay with that,” she whispered as she looked back to his face. Mat only quirked his brow in response.

“I think it’s time I focus less on pushing you away, and more on just…” Genevieve tenderly wrapped her arms around Mat’s neck. “Just finally letting things happen the way they’re supposed to,” she spoke.

Mat froze for a moment, then broke into an enormous grin. “Yeah?” he asked in awe.

She bit down on her bottom lip and nodded, driving him insane. He pressed her lower back into his body as she assured, “Yeah. This is what I want.”

Mat barely let her speak that last word before capturing her lips in a searing kiss — all the nerves and anxiety about avoiding this melting away in a heartbeat as she moaned softly into his mouth, eliciting a smile from him against her skin.

“You’re beautiful, G,” Mat whispered when he finally came up for air. “You know that?” Genevieve blushed and tried to hide her face in Mat’s chest, but with a roll of his eyes, he caught her chin between his thumb and index finger and angled her face toward his own.

“No, none of that,” he said. “I’ve waited this long to be with you, G. Just let me look at you and tell you how gorgeous you are.”

Mat felt the warmth of her cheeks as he caressed them with the backs of his hands, losing himself in her criminally blue eyes.

“You are something else, Maty,” she said, letting her hands rest on his taut stomach as she leaned into him. “Now we really have to go, or we’re gonna be late.” With one last kiss pressed against his lips, Genevieve spun away from him, grabbed the pearl clutch from her bed, and tossed him a particularly wicked glance over her shoulder, laughing at his dumbfounded expression as she drifted out of the room.

And as he watched her walk away from him, hips swaying beneath the satin of her dress...

Mat knew he had no choice but to follow wherever she led.

_____

Whether she was aware of it or not, the girl knew how to command a room.

As Mat watched Genevieve engage the many high-profile sponsors and potential donors in the ballroom, he found himself thinking that he really didn’t even need to be here. She had this in the bag, and he was just arm candy for the night. And he realized he didn’t mind a bit.

Even so, he couldn’t help but swell with pride when she regularly turned away from conversations throughout the evening, searching the many faces in the crowd until she found his, her shoulders relaxing and her eyes flashing with affection when she finally did.

Finally, Mat sensed that the peace he had long ago found in her, she now felt in him. Nothing could ever make him happier than that.

Despite having different food and flowers than what Genevieve had planned, the event was a smashing success. She learned from her professor near the end of the gala that they had raised a quarter of a million dollars for the Islanders Children’s Foundation in this single night — a figure which made her nearly choke on her champagne and subsequently back Mat into a coat closet to reveal privately. Only he was more excited about the triumph than she, clutching excitedly at her sides as he pulled her to himself for a fiery kiss and gleefully congratulated her, both of them trying to stay as quiet as possible to remain undetected. When they regained their composure, they walked regally arm in arm back into the ballroom to say their thank you’s and goodbyes.

As they waited outside for the valet, Mat held Genevieve from behind, his arms encircling her waist under the grand stone archways of the old building. In her ear, he whispered her praises, pressing a kiss to her temple or jaw between each adjective as they awaited their ride.

“Smart. Beautiful. Capable. Stunning. Perfect. Worthy. Mine.”

That last one prompted her to spin in his arms, unashamed of who might see, and grasp his face for a firm kiss.

“Yours,” she whispered back dreamily.

_____

Soon they were back at her apartment building, rushing down the hall hand in hand, fully prepared to take advantage of Beau’s night on the town. Mat was mouthing hungrily at the back of Genevieve’s neck, from one side to the other, as she squealed and clumsily unlocked the door — a feat which took approximately five times as long as it normally did, considering the distraction hanging off of her, snaking its long arms around her torso as she finally tumbled through the doorway. Mat held onto her hips with a laugh to prevent her from falling on her face onto the tile beneath them, pulling her upward to resume their makeout until…

“Don’t you two look cute.”

Beau’s voice rang from the couch, startling both Mat and Genevieve as she pushed him away to create some distance between them. Mat cleared his throat as he unceremoniously gathered his footing beneath him. They both stood motionless in the entryway for several moments before Genevieve blinked at the basketball game playing on the television.

“Wait. What the hell, Anth… you’re watching the Nets game on TV? What happened to your date?” Genevieve asked as she took a few steps into the living room, tossing her clutch onto the couch so that she could put both hands on her hips and aim as much attitude as possible at her cousin.

“Yeah, I lied about that. The Nets are in Boston tonight, you geniuses,” Anthony informed them casually, taking the last swig from his beer bottle and placing it on the coffee table as he leaned forward.

“What do you mean, you lied? What the fuck, man?” Mat asked, incredulous.

“I did it on purpose!” Anthony bellowed, before the two gaped at him. “You two goons haven’t figured it out on your own by now, so I figured if I ditched, forced you into some alone time, bought G a pretty dress, maybe you’d see yourselves for what you really are. Hopelessly, disgustingly in love with each other. And apparently, it worked.”

Mat ran a hand slowly through his hair, tugging on his locks with a quiet laugh. Genevieve stood still, a hand suspended in mid-air, and whispered, “You planned this?”

Anthony rolled his eyes. “Of course I planned this,” he confirmed. “You really think I would just bail on you at the last minute for some girl? No! I knew you’d ask Mat, and I knew he would come to your rescue, and I knew you guys would have a great night together. Win, win, win.” Anthony rested his back against the couch once more, propping his feet up on the coffee table and folding his hands behind his head as he waggled his eyebrows. “I’m good, huh?” he remarked.

Mat took four quick strides toward his best friend and made a show of grabbing Anthony’s face and pressing a lip-smacking kiss to his forehead, which Anthony giggled over and wiped away, shaking his head.

“You’re my hero, man,” Mat spoke as he returned to Genevieve’s side and tucked her beneath his arm. Timidly, Genevieve asked Anthony, “You mean you’re not mad?”

Anthony’s big eyes grew even wider. “Mad?! My best friend and practically my sister are finally making each other happy. I’d be crazy to be mad! Or I’d be the Grinch. And I’m not the Grinch!” he assured as he pointed towards them.

Genevieve beamed, walking his way and placing a kiss to his cheek, squeezing his arm.

“Merci beaucoup,” she whispered when she pulled back from his face, only to see that he was smiling from ear to ear. He gave her a solemn nod.

Genevieve extended a hand toward Mat which he accepted gladly, then she turned back to her cousin.

“Well, on that note, since your plan was such a success, and so was my event, Mat and I are gonna go celebrate,” she informed him with a grin. Anthony chuckled and lifted his beer bottle in their direction.

“Cheers to that,” he said. “I’ll just turn up the volume.”

Mat and Genevieve laughed and said goodnight before making their way down the hall. Mat couldn’t close the door fast enough before spinning her and pinning her against it as she smirked, her form melting into his as he kissed her fiercely. For several minutes they stayed there as one, with their parting lips and their breathing the only sounds in the room. Soon, Mat pulled back, both his hands holding Genevieve’s face as he searched her eyes.

“Promise me this is really what you want, G. Promise me you won’t push me away again,” he implored, his voice sounding needier than it ever had. Genevieve felt the stab at her gut upon remembering once more that she’d really almost fucked this up.

She sifted her fingers through his long, coal black hair of his and looked into his green-flecked eyes, which begged her for reassurance. Mat swallowed thickly as she cupped his strong jaw.

“I promise I won’t, Mathew,” she whispered. “I won’t. I can’t. I need you.”

With that, she squeezed his cheeks between her fingers and smothered his lips with her own. Mat tasted the sweet champagne on her skin and moaned.

“Mine,” he said again, gruffly this time, into her ear as he trailed hot kisses down her jaw.

“Yours,” she repeated breathlessly.

#juliaswinterwriting #my writing #mathew barzal #mat barzal #barzal #nhl #hockey #mathew barzal fic #mathew barzal fanfic #mathew barzal fanfiction #mat barzal fic #mat barzal fanfic #mat barzal fanfiction #mathew barzal writing #mat barzal writing #hockey writing #nhl writing #anthony beauvillier

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smarchit · 4 years ago

Text

Look Around, Look Around pt 4

Summary: You escaped an abusive marriage, pregnant with your husband’s child. He sends a bounty hunter after you to bring you back. Everything changes. Din Djarin/pregnant!reader, no use of y/n

Word count: 2.2k

Warnings: Pregnancy/related topics, implied/referenced rape, mentions of abuse, blood, brief mentions of medical procedures

Notes: /finger guns/ no comment, your honor. also, these chapters were originally titled on Ao3. I completely forgot about that lol

You knew something was wrong when Mando returned early from his job. You knew either that it had gone sideways somehow, either the guy put up a fight, he was already dead, or worse, Mando got hurt.

All the times he came back to you injured it was nothing life threatening - slashes across the arms, blaster shot to the beskar that knocked the wind out of him. He always made a big deal out of that one, the drama queen. The worst one of them was that time a Trandoshan bounty tried to shank him; it ended up not being that bad, he just got him in the ribs with a dull knife that took a week to heal.

So now here Mando was, back from a job. You heard him shoving the bounty into the carbonite chamber downstairs, heard him clattering around as he struggled to put his weapons away. You heard a low grunt of pain and descended the ladder to the lower level of the ship to find him.

It was dim, but you didn't need light to notice the wide gash in his shirt, or the blood that stained the light brown leather of his gloves as he pressed a hand to his stomach.

He was leaning against the wall, taking shallow breaths as you laid eyes on him, and he lifted his visor to look at you.

"Should see the other guy," he wheezed in a half-joke as he slid down to sit on the floor.

You looked over at the carbonite and noted the crumpled way the bounty was situated - and the bloodstain that had been tracked in when Mando dragged the body behind him.

"I'll get the medpack," you said quickly. It was hard to tell at that point what blood was Mando's and which was the bounty's, all you knew was that there was too much of it and the smell was starting to make you nauseous.

You retrieved the medpack and returned to his side, knees aching as you knelt down just a bit to quickly. A dull pain spread up into your belly, spreading white hot, like a fire poker shoved through your gut. You clenched your jaw with the pain and turned your focus to Mando.

His head was leaned back on the wall, the tiniest sliver of his scruffy chin poked out from under the bottom of his helmet. He was still breathing shallowly and you imagined his eyes were squeezed shut to try to keep himself steady.

You lifted his breast plate up a bit and winced - it wasn't a big cut, but deep enough that it could be dangerous. You grabbed the bacta spray from the kit and administered it quickly.

One of his hands wound its way around your wrist as you dabbed away the excess blood around the wound.

"'m okay," he mumbled, his head lolling to one side as he gave your wrist a reassuring squeeze.

"Good," you said with a worried smile, bringing your other hand up to cup the side of his helmet. You lightly rapped on his temple with your knuckles - three taps for I'm glad you're okay.

"Can you stand up?" you asked after a moment. You really didn't think you'd be able to help him stand, especially with the pain that was now steadily increasing in your belly.

He nodded once as if pondering this. "Yeah, I'm fine." He already sounded a bit better, at least. His visor locked on your face. "You okay? Look a little pale."

"There's just a lot of blood," you chuckled, though your voice sounded strained. "I just cleaned the floors."

Mando laughed and got to his feet.

"I'll clean them later. We should get out of here - we'll head back to Nevarro."

You nodded and followed him up the ladder to the cockpit. A bead of sweat rolled down your leg under your skirts and you grimaced at the slightly uncomfortable feeling. A second trickle of sweat soon joined it.

Once you got to the cockpit, you sunk into the copilot's seat and leaned your head back with a sigh. You rubbed lazily at your stomach, chalking the pain up to nerves.

The ship took off with no trouble and it wasn't long before you were whistling through hyperspace towards Nevarro.

The baby, who had been asleep until now, woke up and was crying and babbling worriedly. You lifted your head and looked over at him, thinking he wanted to be held. He was looking between you and Mando, his tiny brow wrinkled in fear.

You moved to hoist yourself off the seat to go to him, your hand cradling underneath your stomach. You touched something wet at the juncture of your thighs and your heart dropped to your toes and then leapt up to your throat. When you pulled your shaking hand away, your fingers were covered in blood.

"Mando," you whispered, your voice barely audible to you over the rush of blood in your ears. When he didn't turn, you spoke louder and you heard your voice crack. "Mando!"

Instantly, he turned in his chair to face you. He stared at you for a minute and then jumped up and rushed to your side. "Hey, hey, what's wrong? Are you hurt?"

Dazed, you shook your head no. You weren't hurt. You didn't fall, didn't do much of anything these days except take walks on pretty planets and watch the small green baby.

"The baby," you said, cupping your bloody hand over his helmet. "Something is wrong."

Mando nodded and gently knelt between your parted knees and gripped your hand tightly. "I'm gonna get you to Nevarro, okay? We're almost there. There's a hospital I'm gonna take you to."

Stars, you could hear the worry in his voice as he assured you. He put a gentle hand on your thigh and then stood to lock down the baby's cradle to try and quell his frantic cries.

You gripped your belly in fear and looked up at Mando who was now back to standing in front of you.

"It's going to be okay," he promised you. "Just a bit longer."

After that, everything was a blur. Mando quickly parked the ship and helped you down the ladder. Then he scooped you up in his arms and helped you off the ship. The baby's pod followed close behind you both as he carried you through town. You could still feel blood seeping through the fabric of your underclothes and dress. You wrapped your arms around his neck and buried your face against his chest.

Maker, help me.

***

You woke to warm sunlight on your face and the low hum of a droid reverberating in your chest. You were comfortable and you didn't even want to open your eyes to start your day. If it weren't for the persistent, unrelenting need to pee, you may not have opened your eyes at all.

Everything came crashing back down in an instant. The blood, the pain, the dull shock of potentially losing your baby.

Your baby.

You sat up, perhaps a little too quickly, you thought as a nurse droid assistant gave an angry squeal at you. Your hands immediately pulled your gown up to observe your belly, still warm and round and full, decorated with lines and freckles and stretch marks.

"Maker," you gasped as tears flooded your eyes. "I'm so sorry, my little moon." You cupped a hand over your belly, feeling it's warmth and it's softness beneath your palms.

A sleepy groan and a shuffle in the corner caught your attention. The Mandalorian was sitting in a chair, his thighs spread wide as he stretched sleep from his muscles.

"You're awake," he said softly as he straightened.

You wiped the tears from your eyes and scooted yourself backwards to sit up against the pillows.

"For the record," you said, wanting to attempt to break the tension, "I woke up before you."

The Mandalorian didn't respond to that, but he got up and moved to stand by you. He looked at you, and you would have shrunk away had he not grabbed your hand gently. The action no longer startled you.

"Everything is okay," he said quietly, rubbing a circle on the back of your hand with his thumb. "Baby's fine. You're fine."

Somehow, it felt like he was assuring himself more than you.

You nodded and looked from his visor to his hand on yours. The worry radiated off of him in waves, but you felt strangely calm and safe with him so close to you.

"Verd'ika," he chuckled quietly, helmet turning to observe your belly.

"What happened?" you asked, not wanting to let him go.

A doctor came into the room then, a Nabooian woman in a simple head covering, followed by a small droid unit carrying a tray.

"Good morning," she said brightly as she nodded at you. "I see we're all awake!"

"Almost all of us," Mando said as he finally let your hand go. He nodded in the direction of the floating cradle where the baby slept.

The nurse chuckled and moved to stand by your head on the opposite side of the bed from Mando.

"You all needed rest," she said, looking at the two of you. "Not many can go traipsing around the galaxy at seven months pregnant like that."

You smiled sheepishly and she laughed.

"I'm Madera," she said, sitting down beside you on the bed. "How do you feel?"

You shrugged. Really, you felt fine. No aches, no pain, even your hips felt fine.

"Good," she said, pressing a cool hand to your belly. The baby inside you fluttered in response to the touch and her smile grew.

"What happened?" you finally asked as she pushed on a few other spots on your stomach.

"Based on the bleeding," she said with a sigh, "It seems like the placenta shifted downwards slightly. It isn't unheard of, and not as dangerous as it sounds. Though it may complicate the birth a bit. I would stick close to home."

You nodded and looked up at Mando, who seemed to be watching you closely.

"So, dad," Madera said, looking up at him to catch his attention, "Take her home, keep her comfortable."

You both spoke at the same time.

"Oh, he's not--"

"I'm not the baby's father," he corrected gently.

Madera nodded. "Right. Ah, right." She turned to you and touched your hand. "You don't have to be on bed rest, but if you experience anymore bleeding or discomfort, then limit walking and exercises, okay?"

You nodded. All that scare for nothing.

"Thank you," you said with a small smile.

She nodded and handed you a holopad to sign. "Alright, there's clean clothes there for you, dear." She gestured to a chair and then exited the room.

You looked up at Mando and he sighed softly.

"Get dressed," he murmured, "I'm taking you back to Sorgan. I shouldn't have kept you away this long."

"Mando, it isn't your fault," you said, swinging your legs over the side of the bed. "Really."

"It's dangerous. You could've... Something could have happened to you or the baby."

"Mando, please," you said, looking at him, trying to scan the helmet.

He shook his head. "We're going back to Sorgan." His tone was firm, and this really wasn't the place for an argument, but he was shouldering too much responsibility himself and you knew deep down he was right. But you were pregnant and damn it all if you weren't going to use that to your advantage.

"I'm not done exploring," you said as it were the most obvious thing in the world.

He stared you down.

"One more and then I'll go," you reasoned. You bit your lip and gave him a small smile. For good measure, you added, "Please?"

The Mandalorian sighed heavily.

"One more," he said. "I have a job not too far from here. It's on the way to Sorgan, and then I'm taking you back. Got it?"

You nodded excitedly and went to grab your new clothes off the chair. You began to untie the gown when Mando coughed behind you.

"Should I... I dunno, wait outside or something?" he asked.

You hesitated slightly. "I won't turn around."

Mando shuffled awkwardly and turned to the other side so he was slightly facing away from you.

You quickly got dressed and then remembered---

"I can't put my shoes on."

He turned back and laughed at you, bent over your belly, supporting yourself against the wall as you tried to put your boots on.

"Don't you laugh at me!" you squawked as he came over to help, still chuckling at your misfortune.

"You want help or what, me'suum?" he asked.

"No, please, I would love to keep struggling, but thanks for the kriffing offer."

"Sit," he said," guiding you to the chair. He sat you down and knelt to put your shoes on. He slid one foot into its boot and fastened the strap, one hand gently holding the back of your leg. The other shoe went on and he held his hand against your leg longer than he probably should have.

You coughed to get his attention, but he didn't look up at you. Instead, he gently pressed his forehead against your belly. He sighed softly and held his head there for a moment before he stood up.

"Come on," he said softly, holding his hand out to help you stand, "Let's go."

TAGLIST (if you wanna be added, please let me know!):

@miscellaneous-mando @lestrange2703 @someplace-darker @letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked @poeticparker @blackbird337 (it won’t let me tag you!) @the-last-twin-of-krypton @divineangelix @c1996 @mell-bell

#my writing #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #the mandalorian #the mandalorian fic #no use of y/n

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im-a-simp1 · 4 years ago

Text

More Than Meets The Eye: pt. 2 Hooded

Word count: 3.8k

Warnings: in the beginning Peter is a little cheese but it gets better, mention of death, death (bring snipped), worried Peter

Series Masterlist

Masterlist

Peter’s POV

I had lost track of time and it was about 6:30. Well to be fair I just finished helping an elderly lady find the city library. She gave me a churro. But when I went to go find my backpack, it wasn’t where I left it. Damnit, I thought I had a better hiding spot but I guess not. Thankfully I always kept my phone on me. I had to call Ned. I dialed his number.

“Hey Peter are you going to be here soon?”

“Um hi yeah I am. Hey I have a question, is y/n there yet?”

“No why?”

“Oh okay good. Someone stole my bag and I don’t have a change of clothes. I will be there soon.”

“Alright get here fast, I don’t know when y/n will get here.” Ned hanged up after that. This was the best possible situation at the moment. I’m glad she wasn’t there yet, her finding out that I’m Spiderman is too soon. Now that I think of it, I don’t know if I will tell her, or maybe someday, no I can’t. The more people that know, more lives are at risk. He didn’t want to put that on her. He has only known her for a day and he already had the thought of telling her that he was Spiderman. She was driving him crazy. She is all he could think about. Shortly after he pulled up to his apartment and entered through his window. Ned was getting the lego pieces of the millennium falcon organized.

“Hey Peter” Ned said, without looking up at him continuing separating the pieces. He knew that Peter was changing and if he looked up it would be awkward.

“Hey Ned” as he was getting his shirt on which was the last article of clothing he needed to put on. “Any word from y/n?”

“First off no and second I don’t have her number I’m pretty sure you are the only one that has her number”

“Oh right” Peter pulls out his phone. No texts or calls from her, just Aunt May asking if I wanted pizza tonight. Hmm, maybe she was just running late, it was only 6:50 and Peter was late by 20 minutes. He just sent her a message. ‘Hey Ned and I were just wondering if you were still coming. We just want to make sure you are okay. New York can be a big place. If you are lost just let us know. Or if you don’t want to come that’s okay we totally get it. We just want to make sure you are okay.’ Peter had sent her a message. He was just hoping that she wasn’t lost and she was safe. He felt stupid because she was new to the city and had assumed that she knew her way around. 30 minutes later, no sin of y/n. Peter was pacing around the room waiting for y/n to reply back.

“Peter, I’m sure she is okay. Sure she is an hour late but maybe she just stayed home.”

“If she did why wouldn’t she just text me that she was going to stay home?”

“I don’t know Peter. But you need to stop pacing around your room. You worry too much.”

“Ned I can’t sit down. If I sit down I am just going to end up pacing the room again. Maybe I should put the suit back on and look for-”

“Okay Peter what is going on?” Ned interrupted Peter

I stopped for the first time. He was caught surprised by his question. “W-what do you mean?” with a nervous laugh following.

“Don’t think I haven’t see you staring at her all day, from the start of the first period. You could not keep your eyes off of her. Now she is having you stressed out and worried about her, where is most likely she is just at home. Peter you have only known this girl for one day and you act like she is the only girl you have ever seen.”

I run my hand at the back of my neck while closing my eyes and taking a deep breath. I mean Ned is right but he is off by a couple words, she is the MOST beautiful girl I have ever seen.

“I don’t know what to tell you Ned, I can’t stop thinking about her.”

“I thought you liked Liz?”

“I do like Liz, well not so much anymore. I don’t know, it was just when y/n steps into a room, she is just so memorizing. She is driving me crazy Ned”

“Clearly” he stated. We both end up on my bed and start to speak up again.

“Peter I’m glad that you are interested in someone but just be careful. I’m sure it’s dangerous to have a girlfriend and be a superhero. I mean at least that is what it’s like in the films”

“Your right Ned”

“I know I am. Now this is what we are going to do, we are going to build the millennium falcon and have a great time doing it. Then I am going to go home and you're going to go to bed and get sleep because I’m sure y/n is home and safe.”

“I guess you're right” I caved in.

“Again, I know I am. Now let’s start building.”

We build for the next hour or two building this millennium falcon. It was pretty sweet. It was also good to spend time with just Ned. Sometimes it can be hard for us to spend time with just us together. A lot of the time I would be patrolling, taking up most of my free time that wasn’t being used for homework as well. Once we finished, Ned left and I got ready for bed. As I got into my bed trying to fall asleep. My thoughts of y/n were circulating my mind if she was safe or not. I knew I was not going to get sleep tonight. I would go looking for her to make sure she is okay but I don’t know where she lives and that usually helps narrow down the possibilities of where she is but I don’t so she could be anywhere. I needed to put my mind to rest so I could sleep but my thoughts of y/n refused to let me. Eventually my exhaustion took over my thoughts which I was grateful for but at the same time, wasn’t.

Third POV

Next day Peter wakes up and does his normal morning routine, takes a shower, brushes his teeth, puts on his school clothes along with his school’s crewneck and starts to pack up his spiderman suit. When he starts to pack his stuff for patrolling, he realizes that his backpack was stolen. Great. Peter thought. He didn’t know what he was going to put his suit in. Then he remembers that he had this old backpack that he used more when he would sleepover at Ned’s house. He grabbed the bag and gathered his school work and his suit along with his new webs that he made yesterday. It seems that it would be risky to have his suit in his school bag but he feels paranoid if it is away from him, someone is going to find it and steal it and try to figure out who Spiderman is. He finishes packing and goes out to the kitchen and makes some toast. His aunt was sitting on the couch watching the news like how she usually does every morning but she has this worried look on her face while watching the news. I go over to see what was wrong and it turns out that a man was murdered last night in Queens but the cops didn’t have any leads. Peter feels sort of guilty, that’s why he doesn’t watch the news as much. He doesn’t want to see all of the crimes that happen when he can’t be there. He understands that he can’t be there all the time but still seeing this stuff does not help.

“This just makes you realize that this can happen to anyone” Aunt May spoke bringing Peter out of his thoughts.

“Yeah I guess so”

“Peter let me know when you are leaving and arriving at places. I want to know where you are. I just need to make sure you are safe at all times”

“Aunt May, you have nothing to worry about. I will be okay. Trust me” I mean after all, I am Spiderman. But Aunt May doesn’t need to know that, Peter thought.

“Still let me know, for my own sanity”

“Okay Aunt May. I’m off to school now”

“Alright let me know when you get to the school!”

“Will do,” Peter shouted. He shut the door and plugged his headphones in. Peter was lost in his thoughts on his journey this morning. Peter kept thinking about the murder case.He didn’t really want to but it was the only thing on his mind right now. He could really stop thinking about how the cops didn’t know how the man died, which Peter found odd. Most cases they know but they didn’t say in this case. Peter tried to shake off the subject and focus on other things. The more he thought about it, the more guilty he felt. He knows that he can’t help everyone but he couldn’t help feel that maybe if he was there he would have been able to stop it. Upon arriving at school, he almost forgot to text Aunt May that he got there, he knew if he forgot to text her, especially after just talking about it, he would have been in big trouble. He went to his locker to get a couple of his textbooks when Ned meet him at his locker.

“Hey did you see the news this morning?”

“Are you referencing to the person that died last night?”

“Yeah, did you come across that person by chance?”

“No” Peter said. In his mind regretting get off patrol so soon. The more he thought about it the more he regrets it. Both Peter and Ned walk into class and sit down at two desks in the back “I’m pretty positive it happened after I got done patrolling”

“Oh well, I just you knew something”

“Nope. Not at all.” The more Ned tries to talk about it, the closer Peter is going to snap. As soon as he had the last straw of Ned continuing on about the murder, Y/n walked in, more like ran in. As her body entered the class the bell rang.

“Please take a seat, miss L/n, and let’s not have anymore close calls, alright?”

“Yes sir” she replied, hanging her head with her arms crossed with her binder in between them. She still had those gloves on. She walked to an open seat that happened to be right by Peter. Before could even speak a word, Ned tugged on her sweater.

“Hey where were you last night?” Ned whispers in hopes that the teacher doesn’t catch him talking.

“We were concerned, I thought you got lost or hurt trying to get to my apartment. Why didn’t you respond to my messages?” Peter stepped in, he wanted to let her know that he was more worried than angry with her.

“Guys I’m so sorry I didn’t respond to you guys. I really do feel bad. I was doing my homework and I passed out. I slept for 13 hours somehow, I even slept in and was running late for school. I guess yesterday was a lot for me and I needed sleep. But I saw your messages Peter this morning and I’m so sorry I didn’t reply to last night or this morning, again I was running late and I would rather apologize in person than over the phone.” Peter could see the genuine in her eyes but her heart was stil pounding a little faster than normal but she just ran to class so he overlooked it.

“It’s okay Y/n, we just wanted to make sure you were safe” Peter gently puts a hand on her shoulder to show comfort. Y/n’s face broke out in a slight brush when Peter’s hand was on her shoulder.

“Thank you for understanding you guys” She said softly. She was glad that they didn’t pursue any more questions. She didn’t like lying to the people that had welcomed her with open arms. She didn’t lie to them because she was hiding anything, she just didn’t want them to worry. Clasping when she was about to leave her home and waking up in her bed was something that she didn’t understand herself and needed to figure out before others ask her about it. She already had enough people giving her weird looks and what happened yesterday was something that people didn’t need to know. People have already been giving her a hard time about her gloves. She gets weird looks as she passes people, girls laugh after she has walked by them, and have had people shout ‘prude’ and ‘be risqué, take the gloves off!’ at her. It was only the first day. All she could think about is the day that her dad could say she could go without the gloves. She looked over at Peter when she realized his hand was still on her shoulder. Her and Peter made eye contact when he realized his hand may have been on her shoulder for too long. Peter whispered a sorry while awkwardly readjusting himself in the chair.

Ding! Ding!

Thank God Peter thought brings out of him of this awkwardness that just happened between him and Y/n. Peter looked down at his phone and saw it was Mr. Stark who texted him:

After school come to the tower

Right after, ASAP!

Peter had a slight smile to his face after reading the message. It was most likely that there was trouble which isn’t good but the fact that Mr. Stark wanted his help, made him feel valued.

“Who was that?” Y/n had asked

“Oh um it’s Mr. Stark, I am doing an internship with his company”

“Oh that’s so cool. My dad works at a big bio-company that has interns all the time.”

“Oh where does your dad work?” Peter asked. Y/n froze for a second. She just realized she talked about her dad and now people are asking about him.

“Oh um he um works at Oscorp, you might now have heard of it but did you guys get the answer to number 3?” Y/n tried to quickly change the topic before Peter could ask more questions knowing more than he should. He noticed the quick change but didn’t push it.

“Oh yeah um I got 39, what about you Ned?” Peter included Ned back into the conversation.

“Same. What about number...” as all three were checking their answers with each other.

—————-

As school finished up, Peter headed out to the Avenger Tower to see what Mr. Stark needed him to do. Once he got there he saw all of the other Avengers circled around a hologram.

“Ah great!” Tony seeing that Peter made it. “Now that we are all here, let me tell you why I have all brought you here today. Recently there was a murder that was committed in Queens parking garage late last night.” Peter knew he was referring to the one that was on the news. But Peter was confused, why was Mr. Stark talking about that, that is the stuff that cops can deal with is always what Mr. Stark said.

“Now I know what all of you are thinking, cops can deal with that but the way he died is the problem.” Mr. Stark plays a security footage of a man walking to his car, minding his own business when another person appears in front of the man. The person was in black combat suit that had a hood on top. The person approaches and the other man gets scared and tries to get into his car faster, the person in all black quickly denies the man getting into the car by kicking them in the side and the man smashes into the wall. But then you can see that the figure in black takes down their hood and the footage shows that the person was a girl and it seemed that she said a few words to the guy and he begs for his life and she simply touched him on the cheek with a hand and the man starts to struggle to breath because he seems to be choking for a bit to than be seizing for a bit while color in his face is being drained to a lifeless gray and eventually his body goes limp. In that moment it dawns on Peter that the news never said how the victim died, but know he now why they didn’t.

“Did she just touch him and he died?” Banner asked

“After she touched him he died within a matter of a minute” Mr. Stark commented, “Fury had called me down to the morgue and there were no stabbings or any other possible ways she could have killed them that could have possibly happened that we didn’t see. But it was clear that where she touched him was the cause of his death. Now how did she actually kill him? I don’t know, it just seems like it was some kind of venom”

“Where do we go from here?” Nat asked

“First question is if this is a space mutant” Tony said looking at Thor.

“I have never seen anything like this before and I have seen a lot of weird species but nothing I have encountered have this whatever this is.” Thor answering Tony’s question.

“I mean have you seen every species in the universe?”

“I mean I have seen a lot and-“

“But not every single one” Tony asked interrupting Thor

“Possibly not”

“There how do you know it’s not a space mutant? It could be a species that you have not encountered yet”

“I seriously doubt it Tony”

“Why not? This seems like the kind of thing that could be a space mutant”

“Because if it was Heimdall would have notified me of an inhabited species came to earth”

“Oh um well alrighty then. I guess it’s not from space” Tony tried to brush pass the fact that he was provided wrong but everyone would never forget the time that Thor proved Tony wrong on the spot.

“Well then if it is not from space than another educated guess is that they were given this ability. Wouldn’t be the first time.” Tony said looked between Banner and Steve. Tony was sassy today. “Banner and I will go to the morgue to see if we can sample from the victim. Nat and Steve see what you can find out about our victim. See if there are any connections that could be related to the situation. Hawkeye is if there is any other information on the suspect. Peter and Wanda, I want you guys to go to the location of the scene, see if you guys can find any kind of information there. Everyone good?” Everyone nods “good now shu” and people disperse.

—————

Peter and Wanda go off to the scene of the crime which was in a garage parking lot. They start to look around got any clues but it seems pointless cause the suspect walked in and out, not leaving anything behind but they had to check.

“Is your senses picking anything up spidey?”

“Not at the moment and please don’t call me spidey please” Wanda cracks up a bit. She loves teasing Peter, it’s easy to get under his skin

“No can do spidey”

“Well, can your powers help right now? Wanda-ey”

“First my powers can’t detect anything and second nice try I know it bugs you more to say that then it bugs me to hear it”

“Damnit, I thought it would-“ Peter stopped. Wanda noticed.

“What is it Peter?”

“Someone else is here” Peter and Wanda we’re prepared for whatever was going to be thrown at them. Then all of a sudden a car pulls up. A guy quickly gets out and points a gun at them but doesn’t fire.

“Who the hell are you guys?!” He shouted

“The question is who are you?!” Wanda replies back

“In just a guy who is trying to figure out who killed my buddy”

“So are we” Spiderman replies to the man “just lower your weapon and let’s talk”

“How can I trust you?”

“Because if we were against you” she shows him her red power hands, “You would be dead right now.” The man sees that there was no way he was going to win, ever if he didn’t know of they were against him. He lowered his weapon.

“Good now let’s talk.” Both Wanda and Peter talked to the man how he knew the victim.

“He’s my best friend. We have been best friends for 13 years now. I guess now he was.”

“If you knew him so well, do know if anyone that would want him killed?” Wanda questions him

“To be honest, probably a lot of people. You see he may be my best friend but he owed a lot of people lots of money. He liked gambling too much. Whenever he owed someone a bunch of money, he would disappear. And he was very good at it too. Well until now.”

“Do you know of the names that he owed?” Peter asked

“Like I said, he owed a lot of people, I don’t know all of them.”

“Is there maybe one that would want him more than the others?” Wanda chimed in

“Well there is this one guy. Scrawny guy, in his 50s, I think, brown hair, glasses, andhad the presence of a billionaire. He is a very powerful and wealthy person, you could just tell by the way he carried himself and dressed. I told him that he should borrow money from this guy, the consequences were more likely significant than he had previously come across but he didn’t listen.”

“Do you know the name of this guy?”

“He didn’t give us a name but he had a name badge that had what it seemed to be a company he probably worked for.”

“What was the company?”

“It was O-” all of a sudden his head quickly leaned backwards as the rest of his body followed behind crashing to the ground. Wanda and Peter were shocked what just happened. Snapping back to reality real fast they looked to see who had sniped the guy and they saw the assassin with hood standing on top of another building with a sniper in her hands, who had gotten a perfect angle to shoot into the parking garage.

Thank you so much everyone for waiting for this part. It took me a bit to do some fixings and to get it to a point that I liked what I wrote but I hoped you guys enjoyed😊💖

#peter parker #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker x reader #spiderman #spiderman fic #tom holland #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland x reader #x reader #more than meets the eye #part 2 #finally #marvel #marvel fanfiction #hooded

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crowsnests · 3 years ago

Text

taste of certainty - part two

Fandom: The Arcana Pairing: Julian Devorak x OC Apprentice (Syran Elkas) Tags: friends to lovers; modern times au; friend group dynamic; slow burn; pining; really just Julian being Julian and Syran being Oblivious Words: 6034 Warnings: mention of anxiety, migraines, insomnia, alcohol

part 1 2 3 4 5

playlist

I know that it can take me even deeper if I let it But my limbs are trying to swim away

- trust; half-alive

II. beach fire sparks

The car ride is mostly quiet, Nadia and Pasha sit at the front, humming along to the songs Pasha puts on– clearly some sort of playlist made just for the two of them. Syran looks out the window, buildings and lights passing by. The sound of Ilya’s voice doesn’t want to leave her mind.

Syran suddenly feels watched, so she pries away from the window, noticing how Pasha is leaning over the passenger seat to look at her.

“What?” Syran asks.

Nadia glances at her from the rearview mirror.

Pasha smiles, sly. “You know what.”

Syran thinks she does, but– she’s gonna pretend like she doesn’t. Mostly because she really doesn’t want to know what.

She shrugs, “I don't.”

Most of the time, if she focuses, Syran can be a good liar. She hopes to channel her talent right now, although she knows that sometimes Pasha has the ability to see through her.

“You really really don’t?” Pasha insists, smile getting wider.

Syran narrows her eyes, “You’re mad at me for the pizza choice?”

Pasha sighs, clearly impatient to Syran’s stubbornness.

“No! You and my brother!” She groans. “You got all cosy, and Ilya was all like ohhh hello and you were like oh shit, oh my god!!” She tries to imitate the two of them by changing her pitch. Badly. “Like, come on, just date already!”

“Wh– what?” Syran is a good liar, but hearing Pasha talk so earnestly about– whatever’s between her and Ilya is– weird.

“There’s no–” Syran swallows, trying to get her tone back to normal. “What do you mean? I’ve fallen asleep near you guys before– I mean. I just didn’t expect it to happen, this time. Why would we date? We’re friends.”

Please stop, please stop. She thinks.

Pasha furrows her brow. “Friends, huh? I mean, yes. You are friends. But mayyybe you could be friends that smooch.”

Nadia reaches to put a hand on Pasha’s thigh. Pasha turns to her for a second. “What? You know I’m right.”

“Your truth doesn’t mean it’s also Syran’s truth, babe.” Nadia’s tone is gentle, but she gives Syran an understanding look from the rearview mirror– Pasha doesn’t seem to notice.

Syran feels incredibly relieved. She is grateful to Nadia for bailing her out of this conversation.

“Yeah, my truth is very different from– whatever it is you think. Ilya and I are friends and we don’t– s– smooch.” Ah, she really wishes she didn’t say that last part.

Pasha narrows her eyes one more time. “Ugh, whatever,” she huffs, turning to sit properly, facing forward. “I just think you would be really good for my brother. He needs someone as nice as you.” She mutters, clearly more serious this time.

Syran can’t help but widen her eyes at that, flattered. She tries to ignore the heat on her cheeks, though.

“W–well, thank you, but there’s nothing like that between us.” Syran is trying to convince herself more than Pasha. Nadia throws her one last look from the mirror and she knows she’s caught on more than Syran would like.

As soon as Syran gets back home, a lazy meow greets her at the door. Her cat, Persephone, bumps her head against her calf. Syran reaches down to pick her up and scratch behind her ears.

“Hello, cutie, hope you didn’t feel too lonely today,” Syran plants a kiss on top of Persephone’s head. She lazily meows as a reply, in between all the purring.

The apartment is quiet besides that. Without Ran’s excited laugh and warm presence, the atmosphere in the house feels wrong.

Once Syran’s in her room and changed into comfortable clothes, all the embarrassment catches up to her as soon as she sits on the bed. She stares at the window for a second, then the thought of Ilya makes her want to hide herself further in bed and scream into a pillow, like she’s fifteen again and her emotions are all over the place.

Well, the latter is definitely true.

Persephone lays down beside her, kneading on the duvet until she finds a comfortable spot.

Just when she’s done strangling her pillow, Syran’s phone rings with the sound of a text.

from: dumbsra - 21:03

goodmorning (.❛ ᴗ ❛.)

Syran groans. She wants to punch him. She knows exactly what he’s referencing, but she is not going to fall for it.

to: dumbsra - 21:04

It’s nine pm

from: dumbsra - 21:04

Oh, i know (.❛ ᴗ ❛.)

to: dumbsra - 21:05

good to know you can read a clock, then

from: dumbsra - 21:07

I’m just saying, you looked like you were really comfortable tonight (.❛ ᴗ ❛.) (－ω－) zzZ (¬‿¬ ) °˖✧◝(⁰▿⁰)◜✧˖°( ´ ▽ ` ).｡♡(„ಡωಡ„)

Fucking idiot. What is she even supposed to reply to that? Fuck you, would be appropriate, but she knows that it will give him more ground to make dumb jokes.

Why is everyone onto her?

to: dumbsra - 21:08

we need to discuss the way you use emojis, honestly, it’s a problem

from: dumbsra - 21:09

Ignore my words all you want, you know i can read your mind (つ✧ω✧)つ :｡･:*:･ﾟ’★,｡･:*:･ﾟ’☆

to: dumbsra - 21:10

then i’m sure you know what i’m thinking right now

from: dumbsra - 21:10

that you should ask Ilya out on a date?

(☞°ヮ°)☞ ☜(°ヮ°☜)

to: dumbsra - 21:12

No, that i stole your favourite shirt once and i will do it again

Goodnight! ( ◡‿◡ )

from: dumbsra - 21:12

ヽ(°〇°)ﾉ don’t you dare

Syran puts her phone down, stopping herself from answering more. She hears it vibrate a couple times, definitely Asra complaining about being left on seen, but she doesn’t care right now.

She turns to her cat, who looks up at her, languidly, “At least you’re on my side, right, Persie?”

Persephone just yawns and goes back to napping.

Syran sighs. All she wants to do is get ready for bed and not think about Ilya’s comforting presence.

🂱

When she arrives at the park entrance, their designated meeting spot for the winter fair, there’s enough people around for Syran to not find her friends immediately. That’s until she spots a tall figure on the side of the entrance.

“Muriel!” She calls, waving towards him.

When she reaches him, breath forming little clouds of vapor, Muriel smiles down at her, “Hey, Syran.”

Muriel is wearing dark green gloves that Syran remembers getting him a few birthdays ago. “Aww, you still wear them?”

Muriel nods, “They’re warm.”

“Hello babe,” Asra pops up from beside him and beams at her, all bundled up in a puffy jacket and bright teal beanie.

“Hey handsome,” she teases back, hugging him briefly. “Where are the others?”

“Pasha and Nadia should be here soon, Ilya is– somewhere.”

Syran blinks. Ilya can be late sometimes but he lives with the two of them, so– “Didn’t he come with you guys?”

“Yeah, then he forgot his wallet in the car,” Asra rolls his eyes.

Syran laughs at the thought of Ilya scrambling to get back to the car and looking for his wallet.

Idiot.

She realises she’s said it out loud when Asra throws her a look. She tries to hide her face in her scarf.

Ugh, does he have nothing else to think about?

“Hey!” Someone exclaims from behind them just then, saving her from any comments Asra might make. “Found it!”

Except that someone is Ilya, waving at them and running, dark crimson scarf coming loose to show his neck.

For fuck’s sake, she can’t catch a break. He looks handsome as always.

“Oh– hey Syran,” he comes to a halt right in front of her, surprised, as if he hadn’t seen her before. To be fair, she’s only the second shortest of the group (first being Pasha by an inch or so, thankfully), so maybe he really didn’t see her. Then, he smiles and Syran wishes her scarf was big enough to become a cocoon for her to hide in.

She’s fine. She’s okay.

( “I don’t have a crush!” she told Ran over the phone last night, after recounting the events of the evening. “That’s ridiculous. Ilya’s been my friend for a long time. He’s just– nice, okay?”

“Of course he’s nice, wasn’t he nice before?” Ran laughed. “Feelings can evolve, you know?”

“No– no– he was.” Syran huffed. “It’s nothing, okay? I’m just– I’m just tired, all these years I’ve been fine, so I’m fine now too.”

She could almost see Ran raising her eyebrow at her, “Really?”

“Yes, really,” Syran insisted. “I know very well what a crush feels like. Whatever I feel for Ilya is– not a crush. It’s fondness, friendship. Not– anything else.”

Ran sighed, surrendering. “Whatever you say, Elkas.” )

Ilya’s eyes are so hard to look away from, but Syran finds the strength to put her hands in her pockets and stare at her boots. Pretty safe defense mechanism, if you ask her.

“So, what’s the plan?” Ilya asks the group.

“Well, I assume since you found your wallet you’re going to pay for everyone?” Asra smirks.

Ilya scoffs, “You still owe me money for that dinner we had, Asra.”

“I paid you back!”

“A mug you shoplifted isn’t exactly the same,” Ilya retorts.

“It’s a beautiful mug and It reminded me of you! Isn’t the thought that counts?”

“It literally says World’s Worst Doctor, you little shit–”

“You still use it though!”

Muriel and Syran exchange a sympathetic smile, knowing very well the bickering between the two can be neverending. This argument comes up at least once a week.

Thankfully, Nadia and Pasha join them, interrupting the discussion.

“Market time!” Pasha exclaims as she runs for the entrance, Nadia and Ilya in tow.

They enter the park, all decorated, pretty lights illuminating everyone’s stunned faces.

They’ve been here before, when they put it up, but they have changed some of the stalls since– regardless, it’s always a fun night for them. The little wooden cabins sell all sorts of things. People crowd them, looking at the different displays.

Syran drifts towards one that sells honey from a small independent company. She and Asra sample some of it, while the others spread over the displays around them. Pasha buys a scented candle, Nadia some golden handmade earrings, Asra decides to get yet another set of incense, and Muriel takes a liking to a little hand-carved wolf sculpture.

Syran finds herself by a stall that sells minerals and crystals, all neatly separated by wooden boxes. She recognises some of her favourites: lepidolite, chrysocolla, black opal, agate. The stall owner smiles at her, reassuring her that she can look at them closely.

She picks up a lepidolite rock, looking at how the light reflects on the coarse lilac surface.

“Anything interesting?” A voice comes up behind her, startles her enough for her to almost drop the crystal.

She takes a second to regain her thoughts, still recovering from the small jumpscare. Ilya curiously inspects the display, like he didn’t just give her a mild heart attack.

“These are cool! Do you collect them?” He asks, leaning closer to look at some tiger’s eye.

“More or less,” Syran nods. “I’ve always liked to, since I was a kid.”

Ilya turns to her, grin on his face. “Aww, baby Syran playing with rocks!”

She rolls her eyes but not without a smile, “They are pretty rocks!”

Ilya laughs, then nods. “Yeah, I guess they are.”

Syran stares at him for a second, both of them just standing there as she still holds the lepidolite.

It’s not a crush.

Ilya turns back to the crystals, suddenly averting her gaze. “So, uhm– they all have meanings, right?” He points at the display with his gloved hand.

“Yeah, each has its proprieties– people use them for meditation, or for healing, things like that.”

Ilya looks up at her again, brows knotted. “You believe in that stuff?”

Syran shrugs, “I mean– I like the idea that something can help you find whatever strength or energy you need. Quartz gives you clarity, agate helps with stability, amethyst with intuition– you know, they’re quite empowering.”

“Still, why rely on something external to bring you those things?” He tilts his head, like he’s genuinely trying to understand, albeit a bit skeptical. “How can a stone give you that?”

Syran can’t help but chuckle. “Guess you could think like that. But they're supposed to help you find that in yourself, to bring it out. At least in my opinion.” She looks at the display again. “Plus, why not? If it helps somebody feel better, why take that away?”

She feels Ilya’s gaze on her for a second, before he turns to look up at the rest of the display. “Mh, that’s a nice take.”

Syran side eyes him. “Ah, men of science,” She sighs.

Ilya laughs. “Don’t you have a degree in biology? And– what’s that supposed to mean?”

She shakes her head, picking up another crystal to look at it. Citrine. “Nothing, just– people in your field are often cynical of stuff like this.”

“Are you calling me closed-minded?” Ilya sounds offended, but it takes Syran one look to know that he’s joking.

“Mh– you said that, not me,” she teases.

Ilya smirks. “Okay, what does this one mean, then?” He picks out a random crystal and shows it to her with childlike gall. Syran looks at it. Moonstone.

Oh, great.

“Uh– it’s about hidden feelings? Helps to heal relationships and opening up– yeah. I mean, it’s written on the paper there.” She vaguely points at the box where the moonstones are, turning away from him. She doesn’t need to tell him everything about it.

Ilya laughs, then delicately puts the stone back. “Well, okay, okay.”

A man steps up to the display right by Ilya, trying to look at the rocks in front of him. Startled, Ilya steps closer towards Syran, apologising to the man.

She sighs, small and imperceptible, because of course he had to get even closer.

Syran moves her gaze to look at the necklaces at the back, pendants made with various crystals. There’s an aquamarine one, calming blue and really pretty.

“What is it?” Julian is so close he’s basically whispering in her ear.

“Huh?” She doesn’t dare look towards him.

“Which one are you looking at?”

“Oh, that one–” She points at it. “The light blue one.”

“What’s that?”

“Aquamarine I think– uh, it’s connected to water. Healing, moving on. Stuff like that.”

Ilya hums. “Looks nice. It suits you.”

“Uh, I do–”

Syran gets interrupted when someone pats her hard on the shoulder, startling her. Again. Ilya seems to feel the same.

“We thought we’d lost you guys!” Pasha’s voice doesn’t sound reprimanding, rather she has a wide smile on her face when they turn to her. Behind her, there’s only Muriel, piercing eyes on them.

“Where are the others?” Ilya asks.

“Nadi’s already at the skating rink with Asra,” Pasha grins. “So you better get going.”

Ilya gasps. “That’s cheating!”

He darts away towards the rink, Pasha hot on his tail, taunting him with predictions of his downfall.

Syran can’t help but laugh. She and Muriel fall behind, taking their time to reach the others.

“That’s nice to see,” Muriel says, breaking the silence.

“What is?” Syran turns her head up to look at him.

“The two of them– being on good terms.”

“Were they– not?” Syran asks, brows knotted.

“Well– ah, it’s a long story. Probably not my place to tell.” Muriel shakes his head. “Sorry, maybe I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“No, that’s okay. You don’t have to tell me.” She smiles, understanding. She can’t say she’s not surprised at the news, though. Ilya and Pasha seem to be really close, it’s hard to imagine them anything but.

Muriel smiles back, puts his hands in the pockets on his coat, shoulders rising up a little. “Yeah, I just– I wonder how it is. To have siblings.”

Right.

Muriel is an only child and he was raised by his grandma. Syran doesn’t know much about his life growing up, she’s always assumed he never wanted to talk about it.

She wonders if maybe he just never felt like anyone wanted to listen. That’s the case for her, anyway.

“It depends, I guess,” Syran says. “Everyone’s got their story.”

Muriel nods. “Yeah– do you– I mean, maybe I don’t remember but– do you have siblings?”

She thinks of her little sister back at home with her mother. Growing up without a second parent and having to mature early to help around the house, Syran never had the chance to get close to her sibling.

“I do. A younger sister, but–” Syran looks ahead as the skating rink comes into view. “We’re not like them. I rarely hear from her now. I don’t think she likes me very much. I mostly find out what she’s up to through my mother, so. Yeah.” She sighs. “Yvaine has always been a mystery to me.”

Muriel stops as they reach the edge of the skating rink. “Guess you can’t choose family,” he sighs.

“Guess not,” Syran smiles, bitterly. Then she looks up at Muriel again. “But hey, that’s okay. You got something better.”

Muriel frowns, looking at her with confusion. “Huh?”

She grins. “You got us.”

Muriel takes a second, blinks once.

Then he starts laughing. It rises slowly, his eyes crinkle up and his smile grows wide. He reaches out to ruffle Syran’s hair, affectionately. She’d complain, usually, but she can only laugh with him.

“Yeah– I do. We all got each other,” He says.

Then, Asra calls to them from inside the skating rink, leaning on the edge. “Hey, you two! Stop wasting time!”

🂱

Syran hasn’t skated in a while, but she quickly gets the hang of it again. She and Muriel seem to be the ones struggling the most, though. It takes a bit, but once she finds her pace, she starts going around the rink with more confidence, running into her friends now and then, sharing laughter, and throwing playful jabs at each other.

“You’re not that bad!” Ilya says as he comes up to her, starts skating by her side.

She shakes her head with a smile, “Please, I almost broke my spine earlier.”

“Not your most graceful moment, I’ll admit,” He teases.

“Hey, you’re supposed to support me!” She tries to playfully swat at his arm but ends up losing balance instead. Just when she thinks she’s going to fall on her face again, Ilya holds her steady. Close to him.

Too close, once again.

She can smell the musk of his perfume, she wonders if he can hear her beating heart.

It’s not a crush.

“Thank you,” She utters up at Ilya, words coming out in a puff of vapor.

“It’s okay,” Ilya smiles, still holding her. “Anytime.”

She looks away. “Hopefully not, I’d rather not risk falling again.” Syran laughs, still feeling the pain on her buttcheek from the last time she fell.

“Well, yeah.” Ilya laughs back.

Then it’s like he realises he’s still holding her, and– she remembers it, too. He slowly pulls away from her as she stands properly again. “Uh, hey, by the way–”

Asra skates up to them just then, interrupting Ilya. “You losers been still for too long, stop blocking the path!”

Syran gapes at him. “I wasn’t aware there was an ice skating police?”

Asra huffs, “There is one now! Move!” He goes to push her, but she slinks away with a laugh. He starts chasing her and Ilya yells back at them.

“Am I off the hook, then?”

Asra follows Syran, trying to get her, although he stumbles here and there. Differently from Syran, he finds his balance again quickly, laughing in glee.

It lasts only a moment, but she meets her gaze with Ilya’s across the rink. Wasn’t he saying something?

But before she can think about it Asra takes Syran for a spin, makes her twirl, holds her hand. It’s fun like this, and they properly start skating together. They enjoy their time and joke around– and sometimes still fall on their asses.

It’s great, but it starts to get a little taxing for her. “I think I’m done for now,” Syran heaves when they come to a halt in a corner of the rink, leaning onto the rail.

“What, giving up already?” Asra pouts.

“My face is going numb.” She puts her gloved hands on her cheeks, but it doesn’t help much– they’re all wet from falling on the ice.

Nadia comes up to them, perfect form and game face on her features. “Quitting so soon? You guys are hopeless.”

“Uh, excuse me?” Asra glares back. “We don’t claim to be professionals.”

“Not all of us see this as a competition, Nadi,” Syran smirks. Nadia almost looks insulted, but it’s all for show.

“Is that a challenge?”

“It really isn’t,” Syran laughs. Then, she notices Ilya coming their way. “Plus, looks like you’ve got your hands full already.”

Nadia turns just as Ilya catches up to them, breath heavy and hands on his hips. “What’s up Satrinava, ready to resign?”

“In your dreams, Devorak.” She glares. “Next one to touch the rail is out.”

Ilya squints at her. “You’re on.”

Syran smiles as they go off, skating away in the midst of the other people. Both of them look effortless, although Nadia is something else completely. She twirls and jumps, dares Ilya to do the same. He tries, but it’s not as graceful.

This is Nadia Satrinava we’re talking about, after all.

Eventually, Syran steps off the rink, finding Muriel already leaning outside by the rail, chatting to Pasha who’s still inside. They’re both acting like there’s no chaos generated by the others on the rink

“Done?” Pasha asks when Syran walks up to them, still feeling a little weird from having her feet back on normal ground.

“Yeah– it’s all fun and games until you get bruises everywhere.”

Muriel laughs, “Couldn’t agree more.”

“Aw, you guys need to believe in yourselves a little! The more you try the better you get!” Pasha’s encouraging words are sweet. “Plus, if Ilya can do it without making a complete fool of himself, so can you.”

“I don’t know, he seems to be struggling a little,” Muriel hums, nodding towards the others.

Pasha turns and Syran can see that Ilya looks definitely more tired than Nadia. There’s still resolve on his face, she can see it more clearly as they slowly approach their side of the rink.

“Go babe, show him how it’s done!” Pasha starts cheering.

A second before Nadia passes by them, she winks at Pasha and sends her a kiss, effortless and elegant. Ilya, hot on her tail, just sneers at his sister, raising up his middle finger. She gives back just as much.

“He’s gonna go down,” Pasha mutters. Then she turns to them. “Gonna do a few more rounds and see if Asra wants to do some stunts. See ya later!” She waves just before skating off.

Once again, Syran and Muriel are left alone, fondly smiling at their friends.

“This is quite the show, I have to admit,” Syran laughs. “Cheering from the sidelines.”

“Mh, I think no one is rooting for Ilya, though.” Muriel says.

Syran realises that’s kinda true. “Oops– well, hey. Maybe I’ll cheer for the both of them.”

Muriel side eyes her. “Mh. No preference at all?”

“Uh, yeah, I mean. We all know how Nadia can get, so I kinda feel bad for Ilya.” She chuckles, looking at Nadia as she expertly swings past a few surprised people, skating backwards to laugh at Ilya.

“Right,” Muriel says under his breath. Syran feels his eyes on her, so she turns back to him.

“What?”

For a second there’s a small smirk on his face, but then Muriel shrugs and turns back to the skating rink. “Nothing.”

Syran narrows her eyes, kinda weirded out.

Muriel is not the type to beat around the bush, he’ll usually say what he thinks and with as few words as possible, so it takes Syran a little by surprise.

“Not convincing.”

He huffs a laugh, ruffles Syran’s hair again. This time she pouts up at him. “Don’t worry ‘bout it.”

“You’re being weird,” Syran turns towards the rink as she adjusts her hair. “What about you, big guy? Any bets?”

“Oh, hundred percent Nadia. Pasha and I have some sort of bingo going on, though.” Muriel laughs again.

“Bingo?”

“Yeah, like everytime Nadia flips Ilya off, everytime Ilya apologises to someone for almost bumping into them, everytime Nadia winks at Pasha, stuff like that. Winner gets fifty bucks.”

“You guys are ruthless.”

Muriel smirks, “Maybe.”

“What’s the criteria for this competition anyway? It’s like they just make up rules on the spot.”

Syran says, a little confused. It just looks like a weird version of tag where insulting shouts are thrown across the rink as the other patrons turn around in shock.

“I’m not sure. I’m not even sure they know,” Muriel shrugs. “Ilya looks pretty confident, though.”

And yet, no more than a minute later, Ilya stumbles on his feet and spins around, trying really hard to stay up on his own. However, he puts a little too much energy in his step and that makes him haphazardly skate his way towards where Muriel and Syran are.

“Oh no–” Syran starts.

“Shit, fuck–” Ilya comes to a halt right in front of them, hands on the rail and torso leaning forward. His chin is just a few inches to the left of Syran’s cheek. “Uh– hey.” He says with a side glance.

“H– hey.” Syran answers. It’s okay, her heart is doing absolutely nothing right now. She’s not mad at the universe at all.

He really has a nice perfume.

Ilya slowly gets back up, smiling awkwardly at her. “Sorry ‘bout that.” Then, pushes himself off the rail, looking at his hands with eyes wide. “Oh no. Shit. Did Nadia see that?”

Muriel raises an eyebrow. “I think everybody did.”

As if on queue, cheers of victory rise from behind Ilya, making him wince. Pasha kisses Nadia and Asra claps vehemently– then, they all start skating towards them, clearly enjoying Ilya’s demise.

“You owe me a drink, Devorak. Again.” Nadia beams when she reaches the rail. Ilya just side-eyes her.

“Whatever. You got lucky.”

🂱

They end up in the big cabin by the rink that houses a cafè/pub. Warm drinks in hand and sitting by the fire, all of their frozen nerves from the ice skating start to melt.

It’s cozy and comforting, a nice relief for Syran after the cold of the ice rink. All of them are chatting and teasing Ilya for his loss. He laughs with them, but eventually they start reassuring him too, even Nadia, saying that he wasn’t that bad, after all.

Syran decides to buy him mulled wine, served in a ceramic mug with some cheesy winter phrase printed on.

“Consolation prize!” She cheers, coming back from the bar.

“Oh my, this is such a beautiful gift Syran,” Ilya says, theatrically. “I shall cherish it with all my heart, thank you.” He mock cries, playfully dabbing at nonexistent tears under his eyes.

Syran laughs under her breath as she sits back next to Asra, rolling his eyes.

The patrons around them die out and Ilya excuses himself to the bathroom. The moment he leaves, Pasha cozies up to Nadia, the two discussing the victory again. They all chat a bit, Pasha making fun of Asra’s odd faces while skating. Then, a moment of comfortable silence between all of them.

Asra’s eyes are immediately on her.

“What?” Syran wonders, feeling put on the spot.

“Nothing,” Asra smiles. It’s his coy smile that says everything and nothing. She has the urge to punch it off his smug face.

Syran decides to ignore him.

“So, Muriel, how’s the bingo going?” She asks him.

“Oh, I’m winning.”

He exchanges a glance with Asra, the two of them almost communicating telepathically.

“Ok, now I feel like there’s something here.”

“I don’t know, is there?” Pasha asks.

“Yeah, is there?” Asra adds.

“Could you stop being a gemini for half a second?”

Muriel laughs at Syran’s joke, but she keeps a serious face.

“Aw, I love you.” Asra side-hugs her, trying to diffuse the situation. “Also no, I can’t. Just like you can’t stop looking at Ilya like that.”

“I don’t–”

“Who’s looking like what?” Ilya is back from the bathroom, and he slowly sits down back in his chair, perfectly arched eyebrows raised.

“You, like an idiot on the rink! Ha!” Asra immediately changes the topic, leaving Syran hanging. She won’t forget, not this time.

Muriel sips his wine, side eyeing them. There’s another sly motherfucker.

Just as it arrived, however, the weird mood is gone, and all is back to normal. Once again Syran finds herself being grateful for her friends. No matter how tough things get, she knows they will be all there for each other.

Even though they are most definitely hiding things from her.

🂱

Syran’s Sundays mostly consist of catching up on shows, cuddling with Persephone, taking time to cook meals she loves, and doing some grocery shopping. She also takes care of her plants and, sometimes, gets a headstart on work.

Asra calls her boring, but she finds peace in it. It’s not that she doesn’t like going out, she loves a good party every now and then, but there’s a different kind of pleasure in taking care of the small things. Plus, now that she’s got the apartment to herself for the week, she can play loud music and karaoke as much as she wants.

Really, it’s a blast.

When her phone rings in the middle of the day, just as she’s moving her big potus out of the sun, she groans. Her hands are full, so she shifts the big pot in one arm and lodges her phone between her head and shoulder without checking– she expects Asra to be calling her to continue their previous text conversation. She has not let go of what he said at the Winter Market.

“For the millionth time, it’s not what you think!”

“Oh, it isn’t?” A deep chuckle resonates from the other side of the phone.

Shit.

“Oh– fuck– uh, thought you were Asra– ah, I mean– hi, Ilya.”

“Hi, Syran,” He laughs, all throathy and low. Ugh. “Am I bothering you?”

“No, not at all– just taking care of my plants– uh, give me a second.” She puts the potus on the kitchen counter, grabbing the phone before it slides down her neck.

“Okay, all set, what’s up?” She tries to act nonchalant. Well, she is nonchalant. This is just Ilya, after all. Her good friend, Ilya. Yep. Nothing to worry about.

“Well, as you know, Pasha’s birthday is coming up soon,” he starts.

“Oh, yeah, right! Damn, I almost forgot.”

Ilya laughs. “Me too, to be honest.”

Syran can’t help but chuckle too, then gasp dramatically. “Why, your own sister?”

“Shh– don’t tell her or she’ll kill me. I’ve been very busy with my research, ‘kay?” He sounds solemn, but she can tell he’s smiling.

“All right, I’ll cover for you– if you buy me a coffee,” She laughs.

A little voice in her head asks where is this confidence coming from anyway?

Then again, this is just Ilya.

“Deal,” he answers.

Ilya, who’s now just being quiet on the other side of the line. “Sooo, why are you calling me?” Syran asks, tapping her fingers on her kitchen counter.

“Oh, right, well– Okay, so. Well, I don’t know what present to get Pasha. I know it sounds lame, but I genuinely have no idea what she might want this year.”

Syran stops for a second, thinking of Pasha and what she’s like. She likes plants, but she’s got plenty of those. She likes pretty clothes and cute shoes, but those would be hard to get right. Syran finds herself coming up short of a sure answer.

“I see– have you asked Nadia?”

“I tried, but she replied with something vague, and then got competitive because she is going to get the best present anyway, or something.”

His answer makes her laugh again. Of course: Nadia is extremely kind, gentle, and helpful– except when she decides to win against everyone else.

“I assume the others weren’t much help either?”

Ilya sighs, “Well, Muriel just shrugged and pointed out that she likes flowers, Asra suggested a glow in the dark lava lamp, so– yeah, no.”

“So, I guess now it’s my turn to give advice?” Syran chuckles, padding to the other side of the kitchen, where Persephone is lounging in the sun. She scratches her fur.

“More or less,” Ilya trails off.

“Huh?”

“Well, I was– uh, I was wondering if you could come with me. To get her the present? Really I don’t know if you’ve already picked something, but. Uhh– maybe we could work on it together? Since you know her well, and all? And I’ll get you that coffee, too.” He huffs a laugh, almost nervous.

A day going around shops with Ilya? Just the two of them? That’s fine, Syran’s fine, it’s no big deal at all.

“She’s your sister, Ilya,” she can’t help but tease him a bit. “I’m sure you know her well, too.”

“Yeah, I know she’s my sister.” He scoffs, fake annoyed, “But– I mean, yeah, I kind of know what she likes– but every year is hard, and I’m not the best at presents– and you seem to be great at it, so–” He trails off.

Syran listens, trying to figure out where this is really going. If she were actually great at presents, she would know what to get Pasha in a heartbeat. But, regardless, she likes to think she’s got a good eye.

She doesn’t know whether to stop him and reassure him or let him talk. But before she can decide, Ilya continues.

“And. Uh. This year she’s throwing this big themed party, too, and it’s the first time I get to meet all her friends, n’stuff. I don’t even know what to wear–” He sounds really concerned. “Truthfully, I just want to make her happy. I feel like the last two years I didn’t do great, so. Yeah.” He sighs. “And– and, I don’t want to lose to Nadia, either.” He ends it like he’s confessing a deep, dark secret.

It makes Syran laugh, thinking him cute for worrying about his sister so much.

Then, she swats away the idea of Ilya and the word cute in the same sentence.

“I’m sure she’ll be happy whatever you get her, Ilya,” Syran smiles, hoping to reassure him. Persephone turns to expose her belly, meowing coyly. “Don’t stress yourself so much, you clearly care a lot and that’s enough to make a good present.”

“Thank you, uh. That’s. That’s nice of you to say.” He mutters, and Syran thinks she can feel him be a little relieved.

“Just saying the truth,” she wishes the smile on her face wasn’t so goddamn insistent. She and Ilya have this sort of mutual understanding, where not many words are needed to guess how the other’s feeling. Well, most of the time. Still, she lately realised how surprisingly similar they are.

And yeah, recently Syran has been feeling a different kind of pull towards Ilya, but she doesn’t need to think about that. She’ll be dead before she catches anyone thinking him cute anyway.

“So…” Ilya starts then, shaking Syran from her thoughts. “Is that a no? On the– uh, present hunting?”

“What– no, it’s a yes, I mean, yeah, no, I’ll come!” Syran replies before thinking, surprised, and a little too eager.

Fuck. She takes a deep breath.

“What I mean is: I’d be more than happy to help you pick a gift. I need to get one myself, anyway.”

“Ah, that’s great,” He exhales, clearly relieved. Then, he seems to regain his composure. “Are you free on Wednesday?”

#an writes #julianxapprentice #julianxsyran #Syran Elkas #Julian Devorak #modern au #the arcana fic #ilya devorak #asra alnazar #muriel #nadia satrinava #pasha devorak #the arcana #part 2 #ilya x apprentice #fic writing #things are gettin spicy and syran is not getting it #apologies #my daughter is dumb

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orlha · 5 years ago

Note

Kakashi/Sakura - Romantic ♡ 3. Where character B is their soulmate Please♡♡♡

Notes: SOOOO This is supposed to be a drabble. But heeeey SURPRISE it’s not? Hope you like it anyway, I might add that it’s not terribly fluffy either.

—

Civiliansconsidered themselves adults when they received their soulmarks at eighteen.Shinobis didn’t care too much about their soulmarks or tried not to at least.Not all soulmates meet, and if they do, not all of them meet on friendlyterms.

Kakashiknew that the chance of having an out-village soulmate was rare, yet he hadseen how Rin had reacted when Obito died, seen how his father had chosen deathover him, seen Sensei picked death over living without Kushina. His soulmarkappears, “No, you stupid man. You are not dying under my watch!” curvingdown his palm. Cursive and almost unreadable words.

Inanother world without shinobis, without pain and the ever-hanging death,Kakashi thinks he might have been loved and loved back. But he’s not in anotherworld. He’s here, where the people closest to him have chosen to die, wherethey had died leaving him alone.

Gaiassures him that soulmates always meet each other. It’s fate and no matter howfar he runs, he’ll always come back to the same fork. It leaves a bitter tastein Kakashi’s mouth. He doesn’t someone, doesn’t want someone else to die onhim. Gai… Gai is the only one he trusts not to die on him. Too much energy andoptimism, too much youth.

So hedistances himself.

FromTenzo who pursued his friendship, from Asuma who tried to rekindle their‘broship’ after his long absence, from Team seven who was a mockery of what hisown team had been.

Hebarely trains his genin, barely cares when Naruto was apprenticed to Jiraiya orwhen Sakura is apprenticed to Tsunade. They were barely his students.

Yethere they are again. Tsunade refusing to let him fade into anbu, forcing him toreform his team.

Hehates it, hates how people push him, with supposedly comforting words that hissoulmate was out there somewhere.

Hedoesn’t care. He tells himself that every time. His soulmate is probably dead,or out-village and he doesn’t care.

Theyare all lies.

Becausehe does.

He’sjust abandoned.

—

Inspite of people’s popular beliefs, Sakura worked hard to get top kunoichi. Sheknew it wouldn’t matter in the long run. Academy scores didn’t matter in thereal world, but that was all she had to prove to her next superiors that shewas competent. Never mind that she didn’t have a senior shinobi to train herlike all the clan kinds, never mind that some days her parents ‘forgot’ to feedher.

Sakurais good.

She hasto be.

She’snot like Ino who had parents to fall back on after graduating. Sakura had neverhad that kind of affection. She imagines that when she gets her soulmark, meetsher soulmate that they would fall passionately in love. She’d be tucked intohis arms, she would be loved.

It’sthese thoughts that keep Sakura going even when her jounin sensei turns out tobe a distant and barely teaching them anything beyond referencing books to readon.

Sakurareads these books voraciously. No one is going to help her if she doesn’t helpherself. She summons her own courage to request for an apprenticeship with Tsunadeand spends her next few years proving herself that she is competent, that sheis worth teaching.

Becauseno one else cares if she doesn’t.

—

Shishousends her on a mission with her former Team Seven just near her birthday. Anddespite it being a fairly low ranked mission for shinobis of their status,Sakura thinks that Shishou hadn’t counted for the Team Seven luck.

Whatshould have been an almost idyllic mission turns into a shitfest. Turns out theperson they were escorting was some long-lost prince who now inherited thekingdom and by mandate was returning to ascend the throne and the councillorwho had looked after the kingdom for twenty years was disgruntled enough tosend Iwa-nins to kill him.

That’s not important.

Sakurawas busy fighting off Iwa-nins and their stupid explosive jutsu when Kakashitakes an almost fatal hit for Yamato. Quickly, with Sai’s help, she disengagesand flickers to Kakashi, hauling him to the side where Naruto’s clonessurrounded them in a protective circle.

“No,just leave me,” Kakashi says even as she fights to manually pump his blood andheal that hole in his torso.

“No,you stupid man. You are not dying under my watch!” she snarls. She presses on,leaving Naruto to deal with anyone attempting to interrupt her and divesin.

It’smaybe minutes or hours later when she wakes from her healing trance,disoriented by the lack of veins and cells in her vision. A hand helps her up.

“Kaka-senseiwill be fine.” Hands press food into her hands as soon as she’s seated by thefire.

She blinks.

Thestars above have bloomed across the dark twilight sky, the Iaw-nin bodies hadbeen burnt or sealed away, a small smokeless campfire had already been startedand Kakashi was tucked under a blanket next to Yamato, his half-lidded eyewatching her.

Shedoesn’t care if she saved Kakashi against his will. Only stupid man does stupidthings like that. He can hate her for all she cares. He wouldn’t be the firstor the last to do so. Sakura forces herself to eat the stew Sai had given her.Tomorrow she’ll need to check on him and considering how he chose to dieinstead of being healed, she already knows it’d be a fight.

To hersurprise, Kakashi doesn’t put up a fight the next day. He lets her press hermedical chakra in, check his torso and even his eyes.

Andwhen everything checks out, Naruto heaves their long-lost prince onto his backand starts the trip to the Kingdom of Stars. Now that they’re aware of actualthreats, they’re more cautious about leaving traces behind.

Sakuratries not to recall the way Kakashi refused to let her heal him. So it seemsthat her choice of people to have crushes on always are people who areemotionally unavailable. She’s been down that way once, abandoned at thevillage gates. It wouldn’t surprise her if her soulmate would be equallyuninterested in her.

Themission ends successfully, and they’re invited to stay in the palace for a fewdays. The Kingdom of Stars is gorgeous. Unlike the Kingdom of Moon, the mostpicturesque thing about the Kingdom of Stars is their sky. The trail ofnorthern lights dancing across the sky, beset with shimmering stars.

Sakurastares out into the sky, the light wisp of smoke escaping her mouth as shebreathes. It’s a place she wouldn’t mind retiring to. The placid lifestyle ofthe people here, their earnest laughter. She thinks she could be happyhere.

Probablynot.

She hadfinally gotten her soulmark during the mission. It’s across her hip and shedoesn’t care what it says anymore. It’s stupid yearning for something she’llnever get or even brooding over it. When this mission is over, she’ll go backto the hospital where no one cares, back to her one room apartment.

Sakuraisn’t meant for happiness or love.

“Sakura?”

She’sso lost in her thoughts that his voice almost startles her off the roof.Kakashi grabs her, his hand lingers on her arm before he sticks it back intohis pockets. His shoulders are slumped, radiating the feeling of exhaustion.

“Areyou okay?” The weapons that the Iwa-nin weren’t likely to be poisoned. She wouldhave noticed if it were, but there’s always the chance for human error. Sheputs a hand on his, double checking his system for any infection or poison.

That’sweird, his hands are bare. Kakashi always wears his gloves.

Sheturns his hand and gasps. There are thick calluses across his palm, especiallyon the fingertips and across the palm, almost down to his wrist is undeniablyher handwriting.

“No,you stupid man. You are not dying under my watch!” it says.

Sheslowly looks up at him. His mismatched eyes look back at her nervously.

“Ibelieve these are your words,” he says carefully.

Sakuracan hear her blood pounding in her ears, the colour in her face bleeding out asshe processed the situation. She pulls her shirt up, wrenching part of herpants down. Splayed across her hip, the narrow but neat writing are the words “no,just leave me.”

“Those…are definitely my words and handwriting.” His hand curls up to grip hers.

Shebarks a mirthless laugh and shakes his hand off, stepping back several steps.“So…” she starts in a quivering voice and hates herself for the weakness. “…I’m marked with your suicidal words.”

Sheturns away and the frustration of the entire situation, the helplessness feltso overwhelming that she couldn’t stop tears from gathering in her eyes.

She wasright.

Thepeople always had crushes on were emotionally unavailable and that apparentlyincluded her soulmate, the man she had a crush on for the last two years. Also,the man who is suicidal and had such a blatant disregard that shishou forcedthem to have a medic at all times.

Underall her doubts and sarcasm, Sakura had hoped that her soulmate would be someonewho loved her, where she could finally be love and be loved in return.

“I’mnot…” he murmurs behind her. “…suicidal…”

Hereaches out to clasp her shoulder. “Sakura…”

“Don’tworry, I’ll be fine even if you leave,” she tells him. She had seen shinobislike Kakashi. She knows what would happen. She won’t cry over this, or so shetells herself as she ignores the tight clenching in her chest.

Becauseno one would care if she isn’t alright and her parents would be smug in theknowledge that they were right; that even her soulmate didn’t want her.

“Let metry, please.” His fingers tightened and she looks up at him. Hissharingan still spinning slowly, his hair almost fey in the dimmoonlight.

Shepulls a shuddering breath from her lungs, schooling the trembling in herhands.

“Youdidn’t care to teach any of us anything. Didn’t care who I went to or if I hadto go to genin corps. Why? Why should I?”

“I’mnot suicidal. I just… There’s a point where you don’t care because you’ve beenabandoned by everyone that loved you and I know I fucked up, but please.”His eyes are desperate.

“Atleast you’ve been loved,” she says, scrubbing the tears furiously away with hersleeve. “I’ve never even once!”

“Thenlet us try. We’re soulmates right? There has to be a reason for it…” he says.His tone full of self-deprecation. “Gai said that its fate and that no matterhow far we try to run from it, if it’s fate, we’ll come back to the same fork.So since we’re at the fork now. It’s better to try. I… I am still terrified ofmaking have new people join my ring of important people…”

Herlips twist and Sakura laughs a wet laugh.

“Andprove them wrong?” she asks. “All the people who said that no one would loveyou.”

“I’ll standback and watch you crush them?” He thumbs her tears away.

“Okay.”She presses her face into his palm, his eyes softening.

—

Andperhaps no one believed it would last. Some soulmates die young together, somesoulmates never quite work out.

Betweentheir multitude of issues and age gap, no one believed Kakashi and Sakurawould.

Butthey did.

Curledup in each other’s arms, under the tall Sakura tree, watching the petals fallaround them, they finally found the happiness, peace and love they had longedfor.

Untilthey were old and wrinkled, grey and aged.

Kakashipresses a kiss into her greying hair and thinks of the northern lightsreflected in her pink hair then and he would have it no other way.

—

Prompts are still open all the way until New Year’s Eve if you want to send any in :)

Tumblr prompts list: here

#tumblr prompts #ficlet #Haruno Sakura #Hatake Kakashi #Kakasaku #Anonymous

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dioni5555gaspr · 4 years ago

Text

JAIMELIN AND MADISON

A Short Story By Dionicio Gaspar

CHAPTER 1

It’s the middle of December.

On one evening, two beautiful young women are driving around a snowy highway, just outside of Omaha, Nebraska. These young women are Jaimelin Jensen and Madison Myers.

While driving, the girls are listening to International Feel by Todd Rundgren on the radio as there was no Christmas station to listen to. The girls were not impressed with the song they’re listening to. Madison quickly changes the station once the song was finished. There was nothing to listen to.

“God, I fucking hate old people’s music. Where are the goddamn Christmas stations?”, angered Madison. “Apparently, this is the only station we can find.”, Jaimelin replied. This angered Madison even more, “Are you shitting me?! Fuck!”

The girls continue to drive without any music. There’s nothing but silence.

While driving, the silence is broken as a sound of a siren coming from the distance. It was a police car.

Jaimelin sees the police car from her rear view mirror, “Aww, shit!”

“What?”, Madison takes a peak at the back of the car and sees the police car. She begins to panic, “Aww, fuck!”

CHAPTER 2

As the girls pull over, Madison continues to panic while Jaimelin remains calm. “What do we do? What the fuck are we going to do?!”, Madison screams. Jaimelin slaps Madison to shut her up as she can’t think, “Just shut the fuck up and let me do the talking.”

The State Trooper approaches to the driver seat window. He begins to tap on the glass.

Jaimelin pulls down her window. “Can I help you, Officer?”, Jaimelin asks while still remains calm.

“Mam, I’m going to need to see your license and registration, please.”, the Sate Trooper asks.

“Of course.”, Jaimelin replied. She quickly searches in her purse for her license. Madison helps her to find the registration in the glove compartment.

While searching in the glove compartment, Madison begins to hesitate as she notices a gun in the glove compartment. Jaimelin yells at her to wake her up. Madison quickly grabs the registration and gives it to Jaimelin for the State Trooper.

As Jaimelin gives her things to the State Trooper, he takes a glimpse at them, then to the girls. “You want to why I pulled you two over?”, the State Trooper asks. “Uh... Was I speeding?”, Jaimelin nervously replied. The State Trooper quickly answers, “One of your tail lights are broken.” Jaimelin is quickly relief and begins to go with it, “Oh, no! I totally forgot about that. I promise you, I’ll get those tail lights fix as soon as I can.” The State Trooper believes Jaimelin and gives back her things. “I’ll leave you with a warning. You have a good day, mam.”, the State Trooper walks back to his car. Much to the girls relief.

As the State Trooper walks back to his car, he hears a loud banging noise coming from the trunk of the girls’s car. “Hold it!”, yelled the State Trooper.

As the State Trooper walks back to the girls, Madison quickly panics and grabs the gun out of the glove compartment. The State Trooper approaches to the window, “Mam, I need you to open the- POW!” Madison shoots the State Trooper from her seat. Madison steps out of the car and continues to shoot the State Trooper.

Jaimelin steps out of the car to stop Madison. “What the fuck are you doing?!”, angered Jaimelin.

“This asshole was gonna find out that we kidnapped this little piece of shit and I told him to shut up, but he never fucking did!”, said Madison furiously.

The girls approach to the trunk of the car. Once they open the trunk, a nude male victim jumps out as his hands are tied up behind him and a bag is covering his head, with a muffled voice as his mouth must’ve been taped. The Victim begins to run off to the snowy field.

As the Victim runs off, he keeps tripping and falls to the ground. The girls watch and laugh at his humiliation. The Victim takes one last fall and stays on the ground as he can’t handle the cold. The girls chase after him and brought him back to the trunk.

“Great!”, yelled Jaimelin. “What?”, Madison replied. “What the hell are we gonna do with that guy?”, Jaimelin points at the dead state trooper. “Leave him to me.”, said Madison.

As Madison drags the dead state trooper to his car, she then approach to the police car’s gas tank. She placed a piece of cloth in the gas tank and takes a lighter out and put the cloth in flames. She then quickly ran back to the car with Jaimelin.

“Drive.”, said Madison. “What did you do?”, asked Jaimelin. “Just fucking drive!”, Madison furiously interrupts.

As the girls quickly drove off, the police car explodes into flames.

CHAPTER 3

An hour has past.

The girls kept driving and driving. Until, they found an old house in the middle of the road.

The house belongs to an old man who lives alone.

BANG! BANG! BANG! The sound of the front door is banging. This starts to annoy the Old Man as he walks down the stairs to his front door. “Alright! Alright! I’m coming!”, the Old Man yells to his annoyance. As the Old Man opens the door, he sticks his head out of the door and sees the girls. “What do you want?”, the Old Man asks.

POW! The sound of the gun fires at the Old Man in the belly. It was Madison who shot the old man. Apparently, this made Jaimelin furious, “What the fuck, Maddie?!”

The Old Man groans as he’s still alive. POW! Another shot at the Old Man from Madison, this time at the head. Jaimelin is even more furious.

“Maddie?!”, angered Jaimelin. Madison ignores her. “Give me the gun.”, said Jaimelin. “No!”, Madison replied. “Give me the fucking gun!”, Jaimelin furiously repeats. Madison refuses. Jaimelin punches Madison in the face, she falls to the ground, resulting her to drop the gun in the process. Jaimelin quickly grabs the gun and points it at Madison. “Listen hear, bitch!”, Jaimelin yells, “You’re gonna help me to get Dan’s ass in here and then you’re gonna help me to clean this shit up!” “Fine!”, angered Madison.

As it reveals that the victim was an old classmate of Jaimelin back in high school, Dan, a young Hispanic man, who was also a social outcast. She felt offended after Dan tries to impress her with an emotional YouTube video of him love strucking on her, called Lonely Boy. Dan hoped it would get her affection by referencing the style of Wes Anderson in the video because he was a film buff, but it was the use of her picture in the video that really offended her. This left Dan heartbroken as he realized that Jaimelin doesn’t watch movies. This would later spark a feud between the two in a form of a prank war. Dan would often vandalized Jaimelin’s car by shoving Twinkies in her exhaust pipe, slashing one of her tires, cutting her brakes, and filling her gas tank with chocolate milk. Jaimelin would often put disgusting things in Dan’s locker such as putting a dead raccoon to make it smell bad. She would also find some ways to get him in trouble such as secretly put a realistic toy gun in his backpack causing him to get suspended.

Then one day, for some reason, Dan never came back to school. Jaimelin would’ve been relieved, but she still has a grudge against Dan. In order put an end to this prank war, she must do the unthinkable. By murdering him. She and her best friend Madison, who hates Dan more than Jaimelin, had planned this for a while. It even took after graduation that they need more time to plan. 3 years later, winter came and they finally proceed as planned. Although, no one else, other than Dan, were supposed to get killed.

As if the girls had already messed up, the worst has yet to come.

CHAPTER 4

After the girls disposed the body of the old man and cleaning up his blood, they begin to deal with Dan.

Dan, who is locked up in one of the bedrooms of the house, is tied to a chair. His head still has the bag covering him.

The girls enter the room. Jaimelin takes out a pocket knife.

“Hello, Dan.” Jaimelin slowly approaches to Dan. “I told you to stay the fuck away from me. But you never listen.” Jaimelin grabs the bag from Dan’s head. “And now...”, Jaimelin quickly removes the bag from Dan’s head, “...you’re fucking dead!” As she’s about to stab Dan, only to hesitate as she noticed something unfamiliar with Dan. It’s not Dan.

“Who the fuck is this guy?!”, yelled Jaimelin. “What are you talking about? It’s him.”, Madison replied. “No! No, it’s not him!”, Jaimelin furiously yelled. “Wait, what?!”, Madison yells. Madison takes a closer look on the guy they kidnapped. She sees it’s not Dan.

As the girls remove the tape out the victim’s mouth, he tells them: “I’m not Dan, you stupid bitches! I’m his older brother, Ned!” “WAIT, WHAT?!”, shocked Jaimelin.

Jaimelin was furious. “What the fuck did you do, Maddie?!”, she yelled at Madison. “I did what you fucking said!”, Madison angrily replied. “Did you check it was him!”, Jaimelin continued. “No, we were on a fucking rush!”, Madison replied. “Goddamn it!”, Jaimelin furiously yelled. “But I have to admit, he does look a lot like Dan.”, said Madison. “We get that a lot. It’s so fucking annoying!”, Ned angrily replied.

“And let me ask you something. Did Dan ever tell you about me?”, said Ned. “No, that little shithead never mention anything to me!”, Jaimelin angrily replied. “Did you even bother to ask?!”, Ned angrily said. “Fuck no!”, Jaimelin angrily replied. “Dan was a fucking pussy! He deserves to rot in hell!”, Jaimelin continues, “Even since he got kicked out of school three years ago, it wasn’t enough to get rid of him!” “What do you mean he got kicked out?”, Ned is confused, “He didn’t get kicked out.” “Wait, what?”, Jaimelin is confused. “When was the last time you saw Dan?”, Ned annoyingly asks. “Since May at that time?”, Jaimelin confusingly replied. “Wow, you guys are so fucking pathetic!”, Ned yells. “What the fuck are you talking about?”, asked Madison. “He graduated at that time, you fucking morons!”, Ned yells. “No, he got expelled!”, Jaimelin yells. “He got suspended for a short time and then he went to therapy because he was depressed!”, Ned yells. “So you’re saying Dan was a senior?!”, asked Madison. “Yes! Did you really think he was that young!”, Ned continues to yell. “Wasn’t he like 14? 15? Because he was shorter than us.”, Jaimelin asks. “He turned 18 at that time!”, Ned furiously yelled. The girls are horrified and much to their confusion.

“So where the fuck is Dan anyway?!”, Madison angrily asked. “He went out walking to a nearby store from our house!”, Ned angrily replied.

“Maddie? I want a word with you.”, said Jaimelin. She then takes Madison to another bedroom. They begin to argue, while Ned, still tied to the chair, hears the argument from the other room.

“What the fuck is wrong with you, Maddie?!”, Jaimelin yells from the other room. “Hey, none of us knew Dan had brother! I mean, how the fuck are we supposed to know about that!”, Madison yells, “You know, this all your fault! All of this happened is because you wanted to kill Dan for that goddamn YouTube video!”

As the girls continue to argue, Ned tries to escape as he tries to untie himself from the chair. He ends up falling to the ground while trying to escape. This caused a loud noise and the girls immediately check up on him.

“Aww, jeez!”, yelled Jaimelin.

Ned looks up to the girls from the ground and begins to cry. “Look. Whatever Dan did to you guys, I have nothing to do with him. Just let me go. Please.”, Ned begs.

A moment of silence occurs.

The silence breaks when Madison punched Jaimelin in the face and takes the gun away from her and shoots Ned in the head.

Jaimelin is horrified. “What the fuck, Maddie?!”, Jaimelin went furious.

Madison points the gun at Jaimelin. “Shut up! Just the shut the fuck up!”, Madison finally loses it. “I can’t fucking take this shit anymore!”, Madison continues.

“Maddie, just calm down. I know you’re tired...”, said Jaimelin. “Shut the fuck up, you stupid bitch!”, Madison angrily interrupts. “I was so excited to that we get to kill Dan. But you never fucking told me that the little piece of shit had a brother! I mean, what the fuck is wrong with you?!”

“I didn’t know!”, Jaimelin replied.

Madison continues pointing the gun at Jaimelin. “You know what your fucking problem is, Jaimelin?! You’re a fucking moron! A fucking cunt! A pathetic little bitch who doesn’t give a shit about anyone but herself! I mean, how stupid are you?!”

Jaimelin sheds a tear.

“You never liked Dan because he was a fucking loser. He always talks about movies that we never even heard of, which is fucking annoying! Yet you don’t know anything else from that little perv!”, Madison angrily continues.

“Maddie, please...”, Jaimelin sobs.

“This is all your fault!”, Madison interrupts. “This whole shit is all your fault! All of this is because of you!”, Madison points the gun closer to Jaimelin’s face, “It would’ve been easier if you just done this by yourself.”

A moment of silence occurs.

Unaware to Madison, Jaimelin slowly takes out her pocket knife from her back pocket and holds it behind her.

“You’re right.”, said Jaimelin. She quickly stabs Madison in the arm. POW! The gun goes off from Madison’s fingers, while she screams in agony. Jaimelin then takes the knife out of Madison’s arm then stabs her in the throat. “I should’ve done this without you, you cunt!”, Jaimelin finally loses it. She removes the knife out of Madison’s throat, causing Madison to fall to the ground as she bleeds to death. Jaimelin continues to stab Madison multiple times as she’s full of rage.

“You bitch! YOU BITCH!”

CHAPTER 5

Unaware to Jaimelin and Madison, two policewomen Donna, a Filipino-American woman, and Malory, a Korean-American woman, went out to search for Dan’s brother.

Donna is happily married and a mother of two children. She’s also seven months pregnant.

Unlike her partner Malory, she’s very hard working and always have Donna’s back.

After the girls broke into Dan’s house and ended up kidnapping Ned instead, the two policewomen were called in as Dan’s sister was also home during the break in. She was hiding in the bathroom. Dan’s sister tries to stop the girls by wrecking their car with a baseball bat, causing her to break the tail lights. She even caught the license plate number from the girls car.

While on the search, the two policewomen discovered the burnt car of the state trooper on the highway that the girls took. They were both horrified.

While on the road, the policewomen found the house that the girls stayed, with their car parked in front.

As they searched around the house, the two policewomen discovered the bodies of the old man, Ned, and Madison all wrapped in bed sheets. The bodies were piled up in front of the house.

While searching in the house, there was no one.

SCREECH! SCREECH! The sound of something metal can be heard from the distance.

Donna and Malory search where the noise was coming from.

It’s coming from the tool shed, next to the house. It was Jaimelin. She’s trying to pull out a wood chipper from the tool shed.

The policewomen pull out and point their guns at Jaimelin.

“Freeze!”, yelled Donna.

Jaimelin slowly turns at the policewomen as she’s just got caught.

“Hands up!”, yelled Malory.

Jaimelin slowly raises her hands... then she runs away.

“Hey! Hey!”, yelled Malory.

The two policewomen starts chasing Jaimelin through an open snowy field behind the old man’s house. Due to Donna’s pregnancy, she’s slowing down. Lucky for her, Malory has her back as she manages to catch up to Jaimelin.

As Malory chases Jaimelin, she fires her gun at Jaimelin. First shot goes off, she misses. Second shot goes off, she miss again. Third shot goes off, it finally hits Jaimelin in the leg and she falls to the ground.

Malory catches up to Jaimelin and begins to handcuff her.

Jaimelin begins to wail as she’s being cuffed. The louder she wails, the sound of her saying that she made the biggest mistake of her life.

After getting handcuffed, Jaimelin gets dragged into the police car with Donna and Malory driving her back to Omaha. She’s completely shattered.

Donna stares at Jaimelin as she begins feels bad for her.

“I assume that was Madison in that pile. Right? Along with Dan’s brother and whoever was living in that house.”

Jaimelin stays quiet.

Donna continues, “I got a chance to talk with Dan yesterday.”

“Will you shut up about Dan!”, Jaimelin interrupts. “He’s a fucking pervert!”

“Hey! Watch your fucking mouth!”, Malory yells at Jaimelin. “Easy, Malory.”, Donna calms Malory down.

“He told me he knew it was you and Madison because of an incident back in high school. A YouTube video, wasn’t it? And you wanted to get back at him. He told me the whole story. About you. The feud. Everything.”

Jaimelin continues to stay quiet.

“He told me he was depressed after that incident. Even after he graduated, he also says that it kept haunting him. He regret that incident because he made a mistake. You want to know what it was? Not knowing you that well. He told me he doesn’t think straight whenever he tries to accomplish something or make a decision. He was scared of everything. He was scared on making friends. He was even scared to try to tell his feelings for you. He never intend to hurt you. All he ever wanted was to make friends. He told me he always wanted a girlfriend. But it’s not always easy. He always second guesses everything and it led him to screw things up.”

There’s only silence.

“Jaimelin, everyone makes mistakes all the time. But what you did was horrible. You got your friend involved and you two made a mess with Dan and his whole family. How would you explain that to him?”

“It’s his fault.”, Jaimelin replied. “He never told me had a brother... or a family.”

“Did you asked?”, said Donna.

“Why does that matter?”, Jaimelin replied. “All he gives a shit about is movies.”

“What’s wrong with watching a movie?”, said Donna. “I watch movies with my husband all the time. Sure movies are enjoyable, but there are movies you can relate to.”

Jaimelin is confused. “What do you mean?”

“Well, a movie is a fantasy. Everyone wants to live in there own fantasies. But this is reality. Whatever you said to Dan back in high school, it must’ve woke him up from his fantasy and back to reality. And I can see he’s completely heartbroken because of you. The way I see it, it could be both of your guys’s fault.”

“What?”, angered Jaimelin.

“I mean, it sounds like he tried to do something good for you, but you rejected him. Which makes things worse for you two.”

Jaimelin begins to look at herself. She finally sees what she has done.

There’s only silence.

“It’s getting quiet.”, said Malory, “Do you mind if I turn on the radio?” “Go ahead.”, Donna replied.

As Malory turns on the radio, Hush by Deep Purple blasts. Jaimelin wakes up to reality as the song continues to blasts.

The three of them continue to drive back to Omaha as another day in a nice Nebraska town turns into hell.

THE END

#short story #dark comedy #fiction #omaha nebraska #kidnapping

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tiredcowpoke · 5 years ago

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TITLE: Price of Travel [1] PAIRING: Undecided, Arthur/OC/Reader leaning. REQUEST: Unprompted. BLURB: Finding Francis Sinclair was supposed to be simple. She just had to gather what he had found and return back to the correct time, but Francis was suddenly a baby and his notes were about as understandable as child’s drawings. She wouldn’t have even found that out if it hadn’t been for a somewhat familiar looking cowboy. WARNINGS: Mentions of anxiety and panic, vomiting (referenced), blood, time travel nonsense. NOTE: I put a 1 there but I’m not 100% if I want to continue this into a full thing or not? If enough people want it, I guess? Also could be seen as a bit of a reader-insert due to the first person and me making the character’s appearance purposely vague outside of her being female. Anyway this is just a bit of a thing I had kicking around in my head.

LOG ONE – date unknown.

Well, everything they warned me about was true.

I'd heard it so many times that it stopped being an idea of a reality to me, just stuff to scare new employees off until...well, until they found more struggling collage students who needed money to pay off debts. Should I write that on company paper? I don't even know, things are bad enough as it is. The disorienting first day I've almost completely forgot, along with whole ones in between. Got sick. A lot. I think people were growing weary of me because of it, and I don't blame them. I bled from my nose a bit, something I wasn't expecting but they said the settling symptoms could be different from person to person. Some don't make it. Lucky me?

I don't know what DAY it is, but this is definitely my first log. My handwriting is sloppy because my hands are shaking. Everything is so much. Too much. I'm not exactly prone to anxiety, but this is enough to push me to almost panic at points. I'm in the past. The actual past. I mean, I'd been prepared for this for a couple years, went through the training, the mission statements, symptom management, and...well, I'm here. Here, alone, and scared. Found some fitting clothing and moved on to where I need to be. Strawberry? I do remember that. Francis Sinclair, too, however mostly in name.

Anyway, log one.

Mood: confused, lost, and getting pretty homesick. Never thought I'd miss a cellphone or a car so much, even if just for GPS.

Physical: Okay. Still a little sick, some sickness after sleeping or eating and the splitting headaches are dying down. On and off nosebleeds.

Mission: Still looking for Sinclair, heard he was in Strawberry but I haven't been able to ask around much yet.

Thoughts: I'm never doing this again.

Breakfast consisted of two apples I had picked up from the general store, having already sold a couple things that they had told me to. I thought it hadn't been much at first but with how the prices are, it held up better than I had been expecting. The apples, however, didn't sit too nicely. My stomach still liked to do flips and twist whenever I ate things, which was typical if I could remember correctly. It wasn't like I could ask a doctor here, though my luck in finding anything other than odd looks was proving to be a challenge. I still couldn't get anybody to tell me if they knew where Francis was—which put a pit of anxiety in my stomach the more that carried on. Really, I was only supposed to gather what he had found, maybe talk to him a bit, and then he'd be able to get me home.

At least, that's what they'd told me time and time again.

Almost over a week in this year and I felt like I was getting stuck, which was terrifying. I had no horse, no weapons, the idea of riding out into the woods scared the hell out of me. However, it was quickly becoming more apparent that might be the next step. I'd asked a couple random people around town, nobody seemed to know where or who he was. Still, he had to come down eventually, didn't he? Really, reason was constantly telling me that I wouldn't find him in Strawberry itself, but I couldn't help but hope I could force things my way. I really was getting a little desperate—the more the sun set at the end of each day, the longer I was going over the required stay time. They never talked to me about if things would happen if I stayed longer, but I was scared to find out.

Which, in turn, had me visiting the general store again for the third time that week. I wasn't alone, however, a man was standing over the counter, his head down as he flipped through the catalog there. I couldn't see his face, a worn looking black hat sitting on his head as he seemed to be looking over the pages with some focus. More notably, I noticed the guns hanging from his hips, what appeared to be a rifle slung over his back. However, I didn't get to linger on him too long as the shopkeeper glanced up at my entering, the irritation that flooded into his expression was almost comical if I hadn't been feeling at such a loss.

“Miss,” he greeted in a clipped tone as I lingered by a stand and glanced down at some of the candy there.

The sight made my stomach turn, in all honesty. Felt like I was dealing with the flu, the sight of food making me ill because of what I knew it would do. Breakfast had settled finally, and I was sure the anxiety wasn't helping. After a few moments, I felt a sigh rip itself from my lungs as I walked toward the front counter as the man in front of it pointed at a couple items.

“I-I know I've asked this already, and I'm terribly sorry for it, but—“

“Miss, I don't know how many times I have to say I don't know a...Francis Sinclair. My answer ain't changed since you asked a day ago.”

“I know. I know, I'm...I'm sorry. Just...was there anybody who came through here acting strange? Weird clothing or...words?”

“I see a lot of strange folk. Lots of strange clothing or manner of talkin'. I ain't seen your man. Now, last time, you have to buy somethin' or I'm gonna have to ask you to leave again.”

“I...fine, fine. I'm sorry to disturb you again. Just, if you—“

“—Francis Sinclair?”

The gruff voice caused me to jump slightly, coming from beside me as it seemed the man flipping through the book had suddenly tuned into the conversation. I was met with a quizzical stare by a pair of eyes that had the strangest color to them, a gloved hand resting against the top of the closed catalog as he seemed to look me over. He seemed...familiar, somehow, but...well, I couldn't place him. At the same time, he also just looked like Mister Cowboy Man, so the thought wasn’t doing me any good. Still, his response had some hope filtering into my chest as I straightened up, meeting his gaze.

“You know him?”

He let out a huff, glancing at the shopkeeper who appeared to be gathering what he'd asked for, but I could tell he was listening in. How could he not be?

“In a way, though I ain't so sure no more.”

“What?”

“Sir,” the man behind the counter butted in, handing him a couple cans of food and a bottle of alcohol that the gruff looking man took from him with a nod. I lingered for a moment, somehow more confused about the conversation than when I had originally started, but ended up following the man outside against my better judgment.

Really, if this was my ticket out of here, I'd take feeling like I was being desperate over being stuck here. He seemed to pause as he noticed me following, casting me a somewhat annoyed look—like he hadn't inserted himself into the conversation in the first place, but at least he stopped as I repeated my question. Any sort of answer would help me, even if it was a crumb of hope. It was better than the pile of nothing I currently had.

“He was just some odd feller out in the woods, talked real strange...” he explained, gesturing down toward the path leading up into the mountain with his free arm, “Asked me to find some sort of...rock carvin's.”

Rock carvings? That was the first I heard of that. I could feel pressure in my face with how tight my brow was, a deep frown settling as I glanced toward where he had pointed. Though, something gave me pause—was? He was?

“Is he...still there now?” I asked, glancing back toward him as the man shrugged his shoulders. Considering how he talked about him, I was afraid of the answer.

“I...I ain't sure? At least...well, no way to explain this without soundin' crazy, but...well, when I returned after I'd gotten the locations for those rocks, he...he weren't what he was before.”

“This...okay,” I muttered as I pressed a hand against my forehead. Well...maybe I didn't need Francis. Could look over his words or rocks or whatever he was looking for here, note it down in the book and maybe he had some details to get back home. That really was my only hope at that point. With a sigh, I pressed a shaking hand to my mouth.

This wasn't over. If anything, it was better than what I had gathered in the last week.

“Could you...I hate to ask, but could you take me to where you last saw him?”

“Miss, I ain't—”

“I've been looking for him all week, mister. Please. I don't have much on me as it is, but money's no use to me. I can pay. I can give all I have on me if that's what it takes.”

“You really this desperate to find him? I hate to tell you, but you're gonna be disappointed.”

“It's better than what I have.”

Really and truly. I watched as he seemed to mull that over—I knew it was a lot, and I'd met this man not even a couple minutes ago. He could end up taking me out into the woods and shooting me, but I needed this. Needed something. Though I found my attention returning as a sigh fell from his lips, ducking his head down as his hat shielded me from the expression on his face before he glanced back up.

“You have a horse?”

“No.”

“'Course you don't...” he muttered under his breath, “Well, guess you can ride with me until we get there. Though, I'm tellin' you, it ain't worth really lookin' at. I ain't been able to make sense of it for days now.”

“Thank you,” I returned, the relief in my voice almost surprising me, “Whatever is there, it's better than what I got...”

He nodded, gesturing I follow as he started to cross the street toward the hotel. Two horses were hitched out front, though it appeared he was headed toward the bigger one as I stumbled and half jogged to catch up. I couldn't help but feel my limbs shaking slightly from anticipation. A flood of anxiety, too. I really just wanted to get back home, more than anything. I had never been too prone to homesickness, but this? It was nothing like I'd ever experienced before and I couldn't seem to balance the awe with my terror at points.

The man I was following pulled himself up rather effortlessly into the saddle, glancing down at me once he had settled as I stared up at him. Finally, he seemed to get the hint, extending a hand down as I attempted to pull myself up onto the animal before. It took some strength, but I had pulled myself up to be sitting sideways behind him on the horse, letting out a sigh of my own as I glanced around myself. Though, I found my hands flying to the man's sides as he steered the horse away from the post, not used to the movement. He stiffed a bit under my tight grip, turning his head over his shoulder somewhat as I made sure I wasn't going to fall off. Though, his voice sounded more amused than offended.

“You ever been on a horse before?”

“No, not like this. Never had to...well...” Just shut up.

“...No offense, miss, but you might be one of the more stranger folks I've met today...” he muttered as he spurred his horse on down toward the wooden bridge, a chuckle escaping me despite myself. Was probably the first time I'd let out any sort of laugh in a week.

“I get that a lot.”

Riding out into the woods didn't do much for my mood, despite not being alone. The man I was riding with at least had the means to defend himself against any animal that could want to eat us. Yet, really, the ride wasn't too far out from town. Maybe I wasn't wrong in thinking Francis could have stopped in there, but...well, I didn't know what he looked like, sounded like, or anything outside of the fact that I needed to find him. That he was like me. The notion of being a time traveler frightened me a bit, but that was a truth of the matter.

“So why did you want to find this feller so much?”

The voice cut into my thoughts, pulled me from going too far down a path I wasn't sure I wanted to go down just yet. This was all so confusing and the idea that he wasn't there anymore...well, I couldn't count out the fact that his information could be all I needed to get home. If he even left that behind.

“Was he your...husband? Brother?”

“Oh, uh, no,” I replied, shaking my head slightly, “We, uh...well, we work together, I guess? In a way? I was told I could find him out here, that he'd answer some questions.”

“Well...I already told you what I think 'bout that. Just...don't hold your breath.”

“Hope's not a terrible thing to have, mister. Especially in a situation like this.”

“You stranded?” he asked, my eyebrows raising slightly at the question. There was a twist to my gut—he wasn't wrong, in a way. If I didn't find him, couldn't find him...well, I could be stuck. Stranded. It was possibly the worst thought I could have but it was a common one. Had it almost every night the past week.

“We'll see, I guess...” I muttered, my voice not really carrying over the sound of hoof beats against the ground and the horse panting as we rode.

We eventually turned off a patch of road into some wilderness, not having to wander too far before a small house came into view. It was rustic and old, a pair of antlers hanging over the door. At least, it was old to me, as most of the buildings appeared to be. I was far away from the skyscrapers and paved roads. Would have been nice if I could actually relax and not have to think about the fact that I'm able to see this at all. The man pulled his horse to a stop in front of it as I took it in. It looked...dark, not quite lived in. From the outside, anyway. It wasn't a good sign, but then again most places looked like this.

“Is this it?” I asked, the man giving a nod before I slipped off the horse.

I landed on the ground with a soft grunt, my ankles pinching in protest slightly but eventually I started to wander forward. Though, I wasn't expecting the man behind me to get out of his saddle and wander after me. I gave him a quick look over my shoulder, but paused before the steps as my heart started to beat hard in my chest. This had to work. I had been almost blessed with such blind luck at this point and, well, maybe it was all according to plan.

“Don't think anybody's home,” the man remarked, his voice much closer up behind me than I'd been expecting. I glanced at him over my shoulder for a moment before I nodded softly, letting out a sigh.

“Well, might as well see what's inside...” I muttered. It wasn't my house, I shouldn't have been entering without permission, but...well, at this point I just needed some sort of answer on how to get on the right path. Get home.

However, I wasn't really prepared for what I was greeted with inside. The door was unlocked, my hand lingering against the wood of it as I stopped after a step inside. The house was dark, the day being somewhat overcast, so it took a moment for my eyes to adjust to the darkness from the gray brightness outside. However, on the wall across from the door sat an almost mural of sorts. The wall littered with drawings of a man, wagons, the pyramids—if it was the same man or not, I had no clue. It was just confusing, my mind taking note of the portals he seemed to be stepping out of, but there was no indication on how to summon one. If that was even what I needed. There were papers everywhere, more drawings.

“Are these...are these the rock carvings you sent him?” I asked, turning slightly to glance back at the man with me as I managed to find my voice.

“Yeah, but if you can make sense of 'em...” he muttered, shifting about the cabin to pick an object off the kitchen table, seemingly more interested in that.

“Did you ever see him?”

“Yeah, the carvin's look like him,” he confirmed, glancing back up to meet my gaze before glancing at the drawings himself, “He sent me a letter. Said he was...travelin' soon, but didn't say where. Though, when I showed up here...can't make sense of it, but a woman showed up holdin' this baby. Same red hair, same birthmark. Said he was Francis.”

My stomach sunk almost painfully, a breath escaping me as I glanced back toward the drawings as his words took a moment to process in my head. A baby. Francis was a baby, but he'd been a man first? This man had seen him in the state I needed him to be in, and yet I was too late? Did this mean...?

“No...no, no, no...” The whispers came falling out as I started to wander, picking up random pieces of papers, looking them over. Nothing made sense, couldn't click. Couldn't make any sense of it. This...no, this wasn't supposed to happen. “He...he was supposed to be here...”

“Wish I could make some sense of that...” he muttered, his voice sounding somewhat distant in my ears as I looked back to the drawings on the walls. He had moved on, did he know I was coming? There was nothing marked for me to see, or to make sense of. No indication that he had any idea this would happen.

“He was supposed to take me home...” My voice sounded tiny in my ears, I could feel the burning behind my eyes as I exhaled a shaky breath. This wasn't happening. This wasn't supposed to happen. They had prepared me, it was supposed to be simple, and yet...oh, I never should have agreed to even...

“I...am real sorry 'bout that,” the man's voice registered in my head, the awkward comforting apology. I turned to glance back at him, surprised at how close he was. I jumped slightly, moving back from him as I wrapped an arm around myself.

I was stuck here. My worst fear. I had friends, I had family—they had assured that it would be fine while I was gone, not much would have changed once I got back, but...well, they hadn't prepared me for this. I could feel some panic starting to grip, my arms shaking hard as I couldn't seem to focus on one thing. I was stuck here. I was stuck. There was no way to get back home. Not...

Breathe. Need to breathe.

“You need to sit down? You don't look good...”

“I'm—I'm fine. I'm fine...just...” I needed to focus on something else. I glanced at him, more of the situation filtering into my head as I took in another breath. “I haven't paid you yet, I have I? I'm—I'm so sorry. Just...here. Here, take all of it.”

“I...don't worry 'bout it, keep your money,” he muttered with a sigh, seeming to look me over, “This ain't...this ain't what you were expectin'?”

“No, no. Not in the slightest,” I muttered, my voice thick as tears threatened to fall.

God, what a mess. What a damn mess. I couldn't very well ask a baby how I could bend time and space enough to get back to the right time period, if I could even find him in the first place.

“I...I kept you for so long, I'm sorry,” I continued, sniffling despite holding back the tears, “You can go, I'll just...”

“...In all honesty, miss, I feel like I'm kickin' a dog if I leave ya here...”

A let out a bitter laugh, rubbing at my eyes. “That's awfully nice, thank you.”

“You want to ride back to town? A train station?”

“I have no damn idea where to go...” I muttered, shaking my head, “This...this is it. This is what I came here for. I'm just...I have no idea what to do.”

There was a heavy pause after that as I felt my shoulders drop, my head tilting downwards as I stared down at the floorboards. As if I could look at them hard enough, look into the dirt, it would tell me the secrets I needed. I hadn't intended to stay in the cabin, but it had a bed. It had all the papers I needed, but...what use were they? Just drawings, scribbles... I heard the man with me shift somewhat as he sighed, my gaze moving from the floor up to his face as he covered his eyes with a hand, his head down turned as he muttered something under his breath.

“I...can't believe I'm sayin' this...” he sighed, glancing back up, “I know we just met, but...I'm campin' out here. Just for a few days, lookin' to hunt. I'm headin' down to Valentine after, if you...want to stay there or catch a train. Can't offer much, but...better than stayin' here. Can't even tell if people live here no more but...”

“I...” The words of protest seemed to die in my throat as I looked him over—there really was nothing here for me, not that I could use. It was probably the nicest offer I'd gotten since someone offered to buy me a meal when I had first shown up in Strawberry. “...Can I get your name, sir?”

“Arthur,” he replied, my head nodding in acknowledgment as I ran a hand over my mouth.

I really didn't want to be alone right now. It felt...needy, but with everything...well it was nice of him to offer his continued company. A small sigh escaped me as I quickly tried to remember what fake name I said I'd give—couldn't leave any record that I'd existed before my birth. Before my parents' births, even.

“Irene,” I muttered, the name still odd on my tongue but it was safe. “I...already took so much of your time, but...that sounds nice. Thank you. Just...let me gather some things here...”

#my writing.#this is long I hope that read-more works.#arthur morgan #original character #reader insert #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan x oc #rdr fanfic

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getawaycarsie · 5 years ago

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L💗VER HAS OFFICALLY BEEN OUT FOR 24 HOURS AND IVE FINALLY HAD TIME TO PROCESS. So here are my thoughts in word form. I’m sorry it’s all jumbled and crazy.

bear with me if I mess up, it’s 18 new songs and I’m trying my best.

1.i forgot you existed

“free rent living in my mind.” HOLY SHITBEYSTCYRUEHEHDYDYY. THIS IS SUCH A FUN ALBUM OPENER. I AM IN AWE. THIS CAN ONLY GO UP.

2. CRUEL SUMMER

UM OKAY BUT ALL I CAN THINK ABOUT WHEN I LISTEN TO THIS IS ELLEN. HOW DID SHE STAY QUIET?!?!? THIS IS SO FUN AND I COMPLETELY PLAN ON JAMMING TO THIS IN MY CAR FOR EVERY WEEKEND UNTIL FALL OFFICIALLY STARTS. THIS IS SUCH A BOP.

3. LOVER

OKAY BUT LIKE THIS IS THE SLOW SONG WE’VE BEEN WAITING FOR! THE LOVE?? SHE DESERVES. PERIOD. SHE IS SO HAPPY AND IT MAKES MY HEART FEEL LIKE ITS GOING TO BURST. HOW DID THE SS NOT LOSE THEIR MINDS. like ??? are y’all okay???

4. THE MAN

ID BE A FEARLESS, AN ALPHA TYPE? UM EXCUSE ME CAN I TATTOO THIS ON MY FOREHEAD?!?!? THIS IS THE FEMINIST BOP WE’VE BEEN WAITING FOR. like she said WHAT SHE SAID. I WILL FOREVER SCREAM THIS AT THE TOP OF MY LUNGS. EVERYTHING. SHE. SAID. WOW. this is our reality and she SPOKE IT. GUYS SHE REALLY DID T H A T. & SHE SAID BITCH. I REPEAT SHE SAID BITCH. POWER MOVE.

5. THE ARCHER

DO I NEED TO SAY ANYMORE OTHER THAN I SIMPLY BAWL MY EYES OUT EVERY TIME. THERES NO OTHER WORDS. JUST TEARS. PLEASE READ ALL THOSE SPEECHES TO ME. I NEED TO HEAR THEM.

6. I THINK HE KNOWS

OH MY GOD AND WE THINK GORGEOUS DID HIM JUSTICE OH MY GOD. WTF I WASNT READY. SHE LOVES HIM SO MUCH. I LOVE THEM SO MUCH 🥺🥺

7. MISS AMERICANA AND THE HEARTBREAK PRINCE

I WAS ALSO NOT READY.... but like when am I EVER?! LOL WHY IS SHE REFERENCING HER TEEN YEARS SO MUCH?? IS THIS LIKE A HINT? OR AM I JUST SILLY. like this is SO cute and such a bop. I WANT A BOO TO JAM OUT TO THIS WITH. this entire album makes me want to fall in love. I love her.

8. PAPER RINGS

THE BEGINNING? UM ITS SO CUTE. I WANT TO FALL IN LOVE??? TO THIS SONG?? YES. I MARRY YOU?!?!? SHE MARRIED WHO?

9. CORNELIA STREET

UM WHO IS GOING TO NEW YORK WITH ME? I WANT TO WALK HER EXACT FOOT STEPS. SHES THE CUTEST THING EVER. THIS IS JUST??? PERFECT. (hardcore stanning.)

10.DEATH BY A THOUSAND CUTS

THE SOUND?? I AM DIGGING IT. THE LONG WAY HOME. THE TRAFFIC LIGHTS. I DONT KNOW. I CANNOT WAIT TO SCREAM THIS ON TOUR. THE STORY IS OVER??? EXCUSE ME WHAT?! I’m HURTING. I keep pretending it’s okay... but it’s not... it’s a death by a thousand cuts. UM I AM IN LOVE. A BAD DRUG? NEVER.

11. LONDON BOY

hello joe. we notice you. we love you. thank you for making her so happy. you’ve set the bar so high for the love I want. thank you for taking such good care of our girl. we all love you. god I love the English???? UM YES WE DO.

12. SOON YOU’LL GET BETTER

okay the title had me BAWLING. I can’t even. secret sessioners ARE YOU ALIVE. who went to the hospital? oh okay. all of you? well I’m glad you’re okay... because I am absolutely positively NOT. I know what it was like when my mom had a leak after her surgery and got really sick.. like this hit home. I was sitting in my friends living room and I literally had to get out of there and I sat on her bathroom floor bawling my eyes out because I remember telling my mom she had to get better. not for for... but for me. she’s my best friend and I have no idea what I’d do without her. I can’t... this song HAS ME FEELING ALL KINDS OF WAYS. 😭 ALL ABOUT YOU? OH MY MY MY HEART SHATTERED. “WHAT IF THERES NO YOU?” OH MY. STOP STOP STOP STOP STOP. HOW DID SHE SING THIS WITHOUT BAWLING? I JUST WANT TO HUG HER. (STANNING SO MF HARD.)

13. FALSE GOD

um the intro is like groovy? idk I was digging it. THIS ISNT WHAT I WAS EXPECTING... but I’m not disappointed??? WOW. her mind is BEAUTIFUL.

14. YOU NEED TO CALM DOWN

a bop that has actually really grown on me??? bc like damn it’s 7 am??? TWITTER. HEY. ARE YOU OKAY? Well honestly I’m anything but calm right now. SPEAK YOUR MIND. A SISTER REALLY SNAPPED WTH. STOP HATING ON SINGLES

15. AFTERGLOW

IM STANMING VERY HARD. BOXING WITH NO GLOVES? UM TAYLOR HUNNY YOU HAVE AN ENTIRE ARMY WAITING TO PUT THEIR LIFE ON THE LINE FOR YOU. ITS ON ME???? HOW IS SHE GOING TO MAKE CUTS FOR TOUR? IM READY TO STAY UP ALL NIGHT. DO NOT CUT ANY OF THESE BEAUTIFUL MASTERPIECES. PLEASE.

16 ME!

AGAIN, STOP HATING ON SINGLES. IF THIS DOESNT MAKE YOU WANT TO FALL AND LOVE AND JUMP AROUNG THE LIVING ROOM WHAT ARE YOU DOING??

17. IT’S NICE TO HAVE A FRIEND

okay so by the title I’m crying again.... (are we really shocked?? no.) okay but like it is SO nice to have a friend. life isn’t meant for one person. you’re going to enjoy it so much having people around you, even if it’s a friend. especially when you feel alone. I really feel like this is to todrick because he’s been here throughout it all and could’ve left if he wanted to, but he didn’t. he’s always had taylor’s back. I appreciate him more than he’ll ever know. like this song is so beautiful, but also makes me want to get up and dance, but also ball my eyes out?? idk but I love it. I LOVE ONE WOMAN. one.

18. DAYLIGHT

what a closer? like I’m just in love with it.

L💗VER

this album is like... holy wow. she did not hold back at all. @taylorswift thank you for being vulnerable and putting your life out there for us. thank you for giving us songs to dance around the kitchen to, to bawl our eyes out, to relate to, to scream lyrics to, to bond over, to let us in on your life. thank you for being you. I love you dearly. I will always stay. ✨💛

#loveroutnow #i am obsessed #taylorswift #i love taylor with all my heart #i wanna hug you

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sanderssidesfanfiction · 5 years ago

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We’ll Carry On - Chapter Forty Six

We’ll Carry On Tag

General Content Warnings: Sympathetic Deceit Sanders, Substance Abuse, Abandonment, Minor Character Death, Transphobia, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, Dissociation, Bullying, Homophobia

March 18th, 2019

Dee looked at everyone in the room in the courthouse with confusion. They were smiling and laughing and chatting like they had done this a million times before. They hadn’t done it a million times, but they had done it three, so maybe they were just that familiar with each other.

Whatever the reason, he was uncomfortable being slightly dressed up and just standing around in court doing nothing. He clung to Remy’s leg like his life depended on it, and when they finally started talking about signing papers, Dee felt relief flood through him. Even if this meant he couldn’t go back to Mama, he wouldn’t be stuck in this courthouse forever.

And anyway, if Mama left him, didn’t that mean that this new family taking him in was a good thing?

March 18th, 2020

Dee was happy enough that he was jumping up and down and flapping his hands like mad. He was wearing his adult villain gloves, because he had outgrown his old ones but Dad got him these so that he didn’t have to go without villain gloves at all. These he just had to grow into.

They were at his favorite pizza place, the one that knew his particular preferences for pizza and didn’t give him or his family weird looks when they ordered a white pizza with extra cheese and sausage. It was the anniversary of his adoption, and while he had gotten a mini-party two weeks before with his family for his seventh birthday, Lucy wasn’t able to come and have dinner with them like he had hoped. But today, Dad and Ami had talked with Lucy’s moms, and they all had agreed that they would meet here, as a belated birthday celebration in addition to his adoption anniversary.

As soon as they walked through the door, Lucy exclaimed, “Dee!” and ran over to hug him.

He hugged back, tight, before taking off his gloves and shoving them in his coat pockets so he could sign. “I’m so glad you came!”

“Well, of course!” Lucy signed back. “I was super sad I couldn’t do it on your birthday, but this is almost as good!”

Dee grinned and flapped his hands before signing, “It’s better! Because this is the reason why I know you in the first place!”

Lucy frowned. “What do you mean?” she signed.

“Well, if I hadn’t been adopted by Dad and Ami, I wouldn’t be going to school with you!” Dee explained.

“Oh!” Lucy said out loud. “Yeah, I’m really glad you got to be adopted, then!”

Dee nodded. He was really glad too, and he didn’t want to think about where he would be if he weren’t with Dad and Ami. It definitely was not a pleasant thought. Would Mama have stopped taking pills? Would he have had to talk to way more police people? Would he have been taken away anyway, only this time he wouldn’t have been with Dad and Ami? He didn’t know, and that really scared him. Hence why he didn’t think about it often, if at all.

Lucy tapped his arm and Dee looked up at her from where he found himself staring at the floor. “You okay?” she signed.

Dee smiled softly. “Yeah. Just started thinking about not nice things.”

“Oh,” Lucy said, nodding her understanding. “Yeah, that’s no fun,” she agreed. “Do you want to find a table with my moms and your family?”

“Yeah,” Dee agreed, and the two immediately looked for a table that could house the ten of them.

When they found a likely candidate, everyone sat down and, because the customers were allowed to seat themselves, a waitress came right over with a bright smile. “Hello there! How can I help you tonight?”

“Hi, we’re going to be ordering...” Ami trailed off, before signing at Lucy’s moms. At their response he said, “We’ll be ordering three pizzas. Two large ones, regular sauce, pepperoni on one half and veggie lover’s on the other, the second one plain cheese on one half and green peppers and black olives on the other, and then a small, white sauce, extra cheese and sausage.”

The waitress laughed. “Oh, you must be the Picani’s! The manager talks about you a lot. Usually to say why you should never judge someone for their pizza order, because you come here often and tip well because no one else takes the order seriously.”

“That’s us,” Ami said cheerfully. “We’re here with a school friend of the youngest. He’s very excited about it.”

Dee noticed that one of Lucy’s moms was translating what Ami was saying for the other. When the waitress left, the conversation moved solely into the sign language territory. Mostly introductions, explaining who was who to one another. Lucy’s mom who was Deaf, who was wearing a denim jacket tonight, smiled and signed, “Your ASL is amazing for only knowing it one year.”

Logan signed back, “Well, Dad and I have had more practice than one year, but my teacher has said that my signing improved greatly since Dee joined the family. Full-immersion does wonders in learning a new language. And since Dee only would speak when he knew we wouldn’t know the sign and no one was around to translate, it really was like full-immersion.”

Lucy signed, “That’s really cool! I didn’t realize most of you didn’t know sign before! You’re naturals!”

“Not really,” Roman signed with a laugh. “My sign was terrible for the longest time. I constantly had to ask Dee to slow down, and I still do when he fingerspells. But I’ve been getting better.”

Ami lightly waved his hand and signed, “Before the food comes, we have a gift for Dee to celebrate his adoption.”

Dee was surprised, thought he didn’t know why. He had gotten presents on his birthday, both from the family and from Lucy. But he forgot that he might get a gift on his adoption.

Dad passed over a small bag to Dee and Dee took it gingerly. He sifted through the paper and found a pair of earbuds, which he played with for a few seconds before sifting through the paper more at Ami’s encouragement. He pulled out a small-ish rectangular device that sort of reminded him of a phone, except it had a circle where the keys would be, and the screen was small. “What is it?” he signed.

Ami and Dad both laughed, and Lucy’s moms were cracking a smile. “I never thought I would see the day,” Ami signed. “It’s called an iPod. It stores music and podcasts and stuff so you can play it whenever you like.”

Dee blinked a few times, before putting the earbuds into the iPod and then his own ears. “What do I do to start the music?” he asked.

“You see the symbols of the sideways triangle and the two little lines? Press that,” Dad signed.

Dee did so and his eyes widened as he recognized one of the songs that Logan liked to listen to, one of the few that he was allowed to play without headphones around Dee, and the one that was Dee’s absolute favorite of Logan’s songs. He took out one of the earbuds, surprised that he couldn’t hear the music in that ear anymore, before putting it back in. He grinned. “Cool!” he signed.

“Ami and I found that in the basement in one of the moving boxes, and we cleared out what little music was still on it before downloading songs we knew you liked,” Dad signed. “We figured it could help some in crowds. It’s not the same as noise-cancelling headphones, but it still will give you something to focus on.”

Dee grinned wide and signed “Thank you” over and over again. Then, “Can I keep them in while we eat?”

“Well, yeah, if you want,” Ami signed. “We’re all going to be signing anyway, so you won’t be missing out on any of the conversation.”

Dee flapped his hands excitedly and slid the iPod into his pocket. Lucy was grinning at him. “That looks like it was a really good gift!” she signed.

“It is!” Dee exclaimed. “And on my birthday Dad and Ami found a weighted blanket in my size! They know all of my sensory problems and they help with them, instead of telling me that I need to get over them, like some of the mean kids at school do!”

“That’s great!” Lucy signed. “I’m really happy for you!”

Dee nodded. “They also help Logan when he has similar problems.”

“What?” Logan signed. “I don’t have those sorts of problems, do I?”

“You don’t buy certain shirts or pants because they ‘feel wrong,’ you can’t stand certain music because ‘the lyrics don’t sound right,’ you can’t touch chalkboards with any part of exposed skin, nevermind fingernails, without squeezing your hands repeatedly until you can run your fingers under water or on something that ‘feels better,’” Dad supplied. “You do all of this without realizing it, but yeah, Logan, you have sensory issues.”

Logan looked momentarily stunned. “Oh,” he said, out loud. “I didn’t realize...” he started to sign, but his hands drifted down as his thought process trailed off. “I don’t know.”

The pizza came while Logan was still brooding over this fact, and the conversation moved to lighter topics. Lucy and Dee talked a lot about school when they weren’t eating their slices of pizza, Roman talked about how the school play was coming up in April and how he had most of his lines down but the blocking kept tripping him up, and Patton and Virgil talked a lot about the books they were reading. Virgil adored Animorphs and Patton was still enjoying The Magic Tree House whenever he could.

Eventually, Logan joined in on the conversation again, when Lucy’s moms asked Logan and Dad where they had learned to sign. They signed an hour-long conversation, and when all of the pizza was eaten and their drinks gone, Dee was starting to yawn as one of Virgil’s slow songs came on the iPod, acting like a lullaby. “We should probably head out,” Dad signed. “I think Dee’s a little too tired for dessert.”

“I’m not tired,” Dee protested, before yawning again.

“You’d fall asleep face-first into whatever dessert you had,” Roman signed with a grin.

Dee whined in protest but didn’t do anything else outside rub his eyes. He was tired, and it had to be getting close to eight, but that didn’t mean he wanted to go home and get ready for bed.

“We should be going, too,” Lucy’s other mom, the one who was wearing bright pink lipstick, signed. “Lucy will need to go to bed soon. It is a school night, after all.”

Lucy tilted her head back and groaned, before hugging Dee. When she pulled apart, she signed, “I had fun tonight.”

“Same,” Dee signed.

“Oh, and do you like the book Mom found for you? There aren’t a lot of kid’s books out there with characters who are mute, so I hope just finding one who was autistic is okay...”

Dee smiled. “I love it a lot, Lucy. It’s nice to read, especially when the bullies give me a hard time.”

“Good, I’m glad,” Lucy signed.

Everyone stood, and after Dad and Ami left two twenties on the table, they all walked outside and went their separate ways in the parking lot. Dee was a little sad, even though he knew that he would see Lucy tomorrow. He had sorta hoped that tonight would never end.

“Chin up, Dee,” Virgil said as they all got in the van. “You get to listen to your music a little while longer before you have to go to bed.”

“And you get to see your best friend tomorrow!” Patton chirped.

“Not to mention that just because tonight is over, doesn’t mean we’re not going to be here tomorrow,” Roman added.

“And while it might seem unfair to cut the night short, we really should get back home. If you want, we could read the book Lucy got you again before bed,” Logan offered.

Dee yawned again and nodded. That sounded really nice. Ami drove out of the parking lot and started the trip home, and as one song bled into the next in Dee’s ears, he leaned back and tried to let himself relax, just a little, just enough that maybe he could have an easier time sleeping tonight. After all, his family was here, and they would keep him safe and love him ‘til the end of time. He had been here a year and they hadn’t disappointed him yet.

Virgil gently grabbed Dee’s hand and gave it a squeeze. Dee looked over in confusion. “Just...you know that we’re not gonna leave you for anything, right?” Virgil asked. “The only thing that would make me not be able to talk to you anymore is if one of us died. And that’s not gonna happen for years and years.”

Dee nodded. “I know, Virgil. Thanks,” he signed.

“I love you,” Virgil murmured. “I want to make sure you know that, because I don’t say it often.”

“I know,” Dee signed again. “I love you too.”

After Virgil nodded and Dee started to relax again, he was asleep before they even hit the next red light.

#we'll carry on #sanders sides fanfiction #deceit sanders #remy sanders #emile picani #logan sanders #our creations #danger gays

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sad-space-monkey-boi · 6 years ago

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I'm A Defect, Surgical Project

Requested by @lonelyboy-in-space

Title from Prom Queen by Beach Bunny

T.w. for referenced self-harm, body dysmorphia, and sad feelings in general.

All seven children were having a family breakfast the week after the supposed Apocalypse. Vanya had killed "Leonard", and they had managed to get her under control before anything worse had happened.

Mom had just asked Luther to get the ketchup from the fridge, and on his way back, he had frozen and just started... staring.

"Klaus, look!" Ben said, pointing at their big brother with wide, concerned eyes. "Wasn't that rave his... first time?"

"Uh yeah, Benny-boy. Lost his v-" "NO! His first time on drugs!"

The look on Klaus' face said it all. Standing, he said, "You feeling alright big guy."

No answer.

Five was the first one to notice the situation. (Must be a twin thing, Ben noted later.) He got the others attention, and then...

It all went to Sht

In the span of 10 seconds, Luther went down, Klaus and Five hurried to catch him, and the kitchen was filled with the sounds of chairs screeching and worried yells. Vanya pulled off her sweater and used it to cushion his head while he seized. Luckily, he stopped before the five minute mark.

A sigh of relief filled the room, and before anyone could move, Mom picked him up and carried him to the clinic.

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

"- So basically, he got EXTREMELY high, and I totally forgot to check for withdrawal signs... WHICH is not my fault if you take into account the end of the world... AND Ben forgot too.... AND Five should have realized something with their freaky twin-bond, so please don't blame me for this..."

All six of the remaining siblings were sitting outside the clinic while Mom dealt with the medical bit. Five was zoning out, Allison was fiercely writing on her notepad, Diego was fidgeting, and Vanya looked like she was about to start sobbing at any moment.

Allison revealed her notepad to read, 'No-one blames you Klaus, but is he gonna be OK???'

"HECK IF I KNOW ALLISON, THIS HASN'T HAPPENED TO ME!"

Before anyone else could respond, Mom stepped out.

"You can come say hello now, children. He's only half awake, but I'm sure he'll feel better if he knows you all are there."

For a a moment, her constant smile had wavered.

They all bustled in and stood by the cot, staring down at their brother. Somehow, despite his size, he looked very small.

"What's going on with him Mom?"

"Honey, it's just what Klaus said. Some people have extremely adverse reactions to narcotics, but due to Luther's," she paused. "Condition, it seems to have been delayed. It is also likely that it will take him longer than the average person to recover. He has also developed a high fever."

They all took a moment to process this, they heard soft murmurs coming from the cot. Five was the first one to get there.

Five had started reading Reginald's journal, and what he had found was shocking, to say the least. On that day in October, one of the mothers had twins. Reading on revealed this paragraph, 'Number One and Number Five have, as expected, grown very close. They seem to prove the idea that Twins have some kind of physic-link. Further studies must be made.' Ever since then, the two of them had been almost inseparable.

The murmurs turned to cries quickly, but no-one could catch what he was saying. Vanya grabbed his hand.

His eyes opened suddenly. He tried to sit up, but everyone panicked and pushed him back down.

"What's goin on?" He slurred.

"Well Lu-Lu, you got ridiculously high your first time doing drugs, and because of your monkey-bod, your reaction was put on stand-by."

His nose scrunched up, and he rolled onto his side.

"What were you dreaming about?" Vanya asked.

Luther didn't look up and mumbled something else under his breath.

"What was that?"

"Why do you care?"

That question sounded earnest, not snippy. Diego spoke up next.

"Because you're our brother?"

"That didn't keep you from leaving me." He said matter-of-factly.

That statement hung in the air for a while, with the sibling's faces showing varying degrees of confusion and guilt. He continued, "You all left me, the house was so big and empty and cold - it was sooo cold! I got kinda lonely after a while, but thas ok." He paused to breath. His voice sounded very wobbly and almost like he was stoned.

He continued, "Mom and Pogo did their best to keep me company though, so don't feel toooo bad. Well, feel a little bad, because you all know how dad could be."

That got their attention. Five scooted closer and questioned, "What did he do?"

"Oh you know the usual..." He trailed of and his eyes closed for a second, before taking a sharp inhale and kept going, "YoU ArE NuMbEr OnE AnD nO MaTtEr WhAt EvErYtHiNg YoU dO MuSt bE PeRfEcT! I DoN't CaRe iF NuMbEr FoUr oR NuMbEr SeVeN WaNt tO SeE YoU, YoU MuSt CoNtInUe TrAiNiNg! And then there was that whole thing were he saved my life-"

Diego cut him off, " You mean completely mess up you entire body."

Luther waved him off, "No-no he did save my life. It's not like he knew that I would-would completely hate it or what-what it would make me do to myself..." He trailed off.

Everyone just sat there with wide eyes, their heads reeling.

"What did you do?"

That was the first time Ben had said anything. No-one really noticed that he was corporeal up to this point. That wasn't enough to earn him a response though. He had fallen back asleep.

Mom stepped in, "Now, now children, your brother needs his rest. Let's finish our breakfast."

"Mom, do you know what he's talking about?"

Her smile was gone. "Come with me. You can ask him later." She started to herd them out. Before she could get to Five, he pulled off Luther's gloves and revealed scars. They dissapeared under his sleeves.

They all stood in horror. Tears started falling and Diego turned to Grace.

"M-Mom? Di-did you kn-know?"

She nodded.

Vanya climbed onto the cot next to Luther, and Klaus slowly followed. Eventually, Five ended up on his chest, Allison put her head next to his, Diego layed by his legs, and Ben held his hand.

When Luther woke up, they would have those necessary conversations but until then, they held on and promised not to let go again.

The ending feels a bit rushed, but I wanted to finish this today.

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carry-on-my-pretty-weeper · 6 years ago

Text

Nervous Chapter 1

Author: carry-on-my-pretty-weeper

Character(s): Reader and Theseus

Word Count: +1k

Warnings: nothing just fluff

Author’s Note: so here’s another series because I can’t help myself when it comes to writing five million stories instead of focusing on one.

Series Masterlist

<<1 / 2>>

No one told Theseus that college life was going to be so complicated. It wasn’t the academics that stumped him, he understood the workload and assignments but what he didn’t understand was the social aspects of it. Like when he’s asked if he wants to go to a party how does he refuse without sounding like an asshole? It’s not that he didn’t enjoy parties he just didn’t like not knowing anyone at them. At his old high school everyone knew everyone because you basically grew up with them. But at college the only person he knew was Leta which was extremely awkward since he knew she fancied him but he didn't feel the same. He also knew how Newt felt about her and he wouldn’t do that to his brother. And if that wasn’t enough, now he lives all the way in the states. So his comfortability level is a big fat zero.

So that’s why he sends most of his nights like this one, studying alone in his room. It was a Sunday night and his roommate plus what seemed like the rest of the school was out partying. He could feel his energy depleting slowly as he read over his material for his upcoming Art History test.

He made a quick decision of going out to buy coffee instead of going to bed. It was probably a poor decision on his part but he needed to study, he was hopeless with this kind of stuff. After all it was one of the general requirements he needed so that he could get his bachelors and become a cop.

Walking in the cold he breathed on his hands to keep them warm. He probably should’ve brought gloves or something but he was already on his way so he kept going.

Finally reaching the local coffee shop he opened the door which caused a bell to ring alerting whomever was working that another customer was there. When he looked at the counter he was dumbstruck by the woman who was working. She was absolutely gorgeous. He felt his heart rate increase as he gazed at this real-life angel. She wore a warm smile and had a twinkle in her eye that made him want to be the person that she was looking at. The bell rung again behind him breaking him from his trance as he realized the girl that entered was trying to get past him. “Oh, I’m sorry,” he apologized as he moved out of the way. The barista looked up and caught eyes with him and he immediately pretended to read the menu, which he probably should be doing anyways since he was there for coffee.

“Are you ready to order sir?” you asked him as you tilted your head slightly. Your gaze alone was enough to make his hands start to shaking.

“Uh yes, I mean, I’m not sure,” he replied with a shaky voice, “I’m kind of new to more than one type of coffee.” Laughing you look up at the menu.

“I can see how it’d be a bit intimidating,” you announced as you tapped on the counter with your nails. An idea seemed to cross your face as your smile widened. “What do you say I mix you up a random concoction and you tell me if you like it or not. If so you pay, if not I make you another drink,” you offered up with a grin.

“S-sounds like a plan,” he stutters out, mentally cursing his tongue for tripping over itself.

“And your name?” you asked as you grabbed a marker. His name? Oh, his name. He had been so distracted by your smile he had forgotten it. Racking his brain he tried to think of it.

“Uh my name? It’s...Theseus! Sorry, my name is Theseus,” he answered as he redden a little bit as you wrote it on the cup. It seemed as if he had turned into his brother Newt, stuttering and blushing at the drop of a hat. Not that he was normally like this but you had turned him back into a little school boy. He waited as you moved around the area humming to yourself. In a couple of minutes you had finished and returned back to him.

“Here try this,” you insisted as handed it over to him. When your fingers touched he felt a little jolt go up his arm. To pull attention away from the blush blooming on his cheeks he takes a sip of the drink. Sweet and saltyness danced on his tastes buds and the warmth of the coffee filled his chest. He let out a content sigh and took another sip.

“This is amazing, what is it?” he inquired as he looked at you in awe.

“I call it the Salty Sailor, it’s like if a salted caramel latte and black coffee had a baby.” You laughed again and it was like music to his ears. Oh boy was he in trouble. Finally remembering about the money he reached in his pocket but you stopped him. “Don’t worry it’s on the house,” you insist with a smile.

“I couldn’t-”

“It’s your first ‘different type’ of coffee,” you said referencing to earlier in the conversation. Leaning on the counter a bit of your hair fell in front of your face but you didn’t seem to mind.

“Well, thank you,” he chuckled as he ran his hand through his semi-messy curls. He was so glad that he still had some product in his hair or else he would’ve had a bush on his head.

“No problem Theseus,” you replied with that twinkle in your eye. He walked towards the door to leave but made an impulsive decision to turn around.

“I’ll see you around then?” he questioned hoping you heard him. Thankfully you did and saved him from an awkward moment.

“Definitely, I’ll be here.” And with that he walked out of the coffee shop with a smile that threatened to break his face. Half way through his walk back to his dorm he realized he forgot to ask your name. Smacking his face with his hand he muttered to himself about being an idiot. But he could always ask you next time. Yes! He’d ask you the next time he went to the coffee shop. Which might end up being sooner rather than later.

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editordraws · 6 years ago

Photo

As I said in my short summary post, there are a few things I've left open while season 2 finishes coming out (and to be honest I might forget to add a few things that I have now). But here's everything about the AU so far (some stuff at the very bottom are just things that informed my thought process with this Moon Varian but are fine to skip). (Anything I didn't come up myself with is credited, so if something is similar to what someone else has said then it's probably just something that intuitively makes sense to a lot of people).

Plot and Assumptions

Even though the Sun is older, the Sun and the Moon each drop their magic on the Earth around the same time

The dewdrops from the Moon create the Moonstone (as opposed to the opal in the show — reasoning under the Moonstone section)

I'm leaving how the Moonstone gets to the Dark Kingdom open until I see what canon has to say, which I'll either keep if I like it or change to make it make more sense in the AU

Thanks to Quirin's royal status as King Edmund's younger brother, the Moonstone is used to help Varian's mother give birth

(I actually wasn't originally a fan of the Dark Heir theory, but now I think it has merit after finding two of @uniiiquehecrt's posts on it (x) (x) when I was looking for Varian screenshots)

I'm still deciding if the Moonstone was used to help conception or childbirth

Or both?

Because the dew drop made a stone and not a flower, Varian is able to have Moon powers while the Moonstone still exists, making him a child of the Moon(stone) instead of becoming the Moonstone itself

Side note: Varian is born during a blue moon which is why his hair is on the blue side

He was born with bluish white hair but his parents had it cut and left one streak of the original (the opposite of Rapunzel's hair situation)

The Moonstone destroys the Dark Kingdom with the black rocks and Quirin escapes to Old Corona with his wife and Varian, where he becomes a vassal to the king (x)

Varian's mother dies in Old Corona

Season one progresses with some changes (see below)

The reason the Moonstone sent out the black rocks was because there's a threat to the Sun — the Water Snake — in the Dark Kingdom

It first tried to flush the threat out by destroying the kingdom, and when that didn't work it began seeking the aid of the Sun to make a preemptive strike, since it will take both the Sun and the Moon to defeat (idea of an evil that takes both to defeat came from an anon on @ghosta-r's tumblr)

There's also going to be some sort of Fire Lion, although I haven't quite worked out the details yet

I'm also going to figure out how to work in a Sundial and Moondial

No love interests will be included that are not already in canon

Changes to Season One

First Half of Season One

The first change is that Varian doesn't get a crush on Cassandra, making it easier to do this:

One other major event takes place before "Great Expotations", which addresses Varian's hero-worship of Eugene and help sow more seeds for Varian's eventual face-heel turn

I don't have a concrete set of events yet, but the general idea is that Eugene fails to live up to Varian's expectations as a hero (while also using Varian)

Varian's hero-worship gets transferred to Cassandra, who actually has the traits he looked up to in "Flynn Rider"

I also don't have a specific event for this, but between "Great Expotations" and "Queen for a Day" the main trio are going to get Varian's help for something but each let him down in some way that he can overlook at the time

During "Queen for a Day" the bridge to the mainland is almost completely destroyed, all the boats that were in the water or left outside are inoperable, and Max & Fidella are badly injured

After "Queen for a Day", Rapunzel plans to stay long enough to make sure her parents are okay but then leave to check on Varian

When she asks her father if she can "make sure her friend is alright", he says that she'll have to wait until repairs are done

I'll see if it comes back, but if it doesn't then there's no evil spirit that got released when they used the Demanitus Device

Repairs are just being finished when "The Quest for Varian" comes around, and the three are able to go to Old Corona

This makes it seem like they forgot about Varian, but it was just more miscommunication

And there's no out-of-left-field "Varian attacked Rapunzel during the storm"

The Alchemist's Return

Varian doesn't know that people don't trust him — he just wasn't going to count on the trio's help to get in

Varian has a map of the castle that he found with his father's stuff showing the secret passageways

He doesn't go to get Rapunzel's help — Rapunzel sees him and follows him

The rumor that Rapunzel was "attacked" is introduced by Pete while under the truth serum

Nigel had told the guards that Varian attacked Rapunzel during the storm, and although the guards that were there have casually mentioned what actually happened to other guards the rumor spread pretty fast

Varian only slips up by saying the flower is for his father when he and Rapunzel get to it

Rapunzel still offers her help

Varian almost accepts, but the guards arrive at the vault and exclaim "hey, it's the kid that attacked the princess!"

Varian assumes that Rapunzel told everyone that he attacked her and no longer trusts her

He leaves with the flower before Rapunzel can explain

(Honestly, a lot of the season one changes were mostly to give Varian reasonable motivation to attempt regicide)

Secret of the Sundrop

The dialogue where Varian explains his motivation also includes the ways the trio have used and let him down since he met them

Most notably that they were always going to him for help but the one time he went to them they did nothing, even after the storm was over

During the fight, Varian is blown out of the mecha and lands next to a patch of black rocks

When he stands up, a now-exposed part of his hand touches them and his hair turns white with a blue glow (his freckles also glow)

All of the rocks in Old Corona glow, and when the light dies down everyone but Rapunzel and Varian are completely surrounded by the rocks

Varian just stands there in complete shock

Rapunzel runs over to the rocks surrounding her father and grabs onto the them, willing them away even though she "knows" it's futile

Her hair glows and, surprisingly, the rocks recede back into the ground

Rapunzel releases her friends from the rocks

Varian finally speaks up and demands that she free his father

The remaining black rocks flatten, pointing Rapunzel towards the Dark Kingdom

Rapunzel's father orders the guards to detain Varian, but Rapunzel stops them and says that she wants to try freeing Varian's father one more time

It doesn't work and Rapunzel's father tries to finish arresting Varian, but Rapunzel offers Varian the chance to come with her to see where the rocks are leading her

Varian agrees to go to get answers and to avoid being thrown in jail

I'm leaving what happens after this vague for now to wait and see what new information is presented in the rest of season two

The only solid thing I have is Adira offhandedly mentioning that the last time she saw Varian he was a baby before Cassandra tries to fight her

The Moonstone

The power the Moonstone would be known for — causing deterioration and decay in animate and inanimate things by "turning the clock forward" — is activated by humming or whistling a version of the Healing Incantation in a minor key (brilliant ideas from @eckcro! Before that I was just going to write a Moon version of the Healing Incantation lyrics and wasn't sure what the most well-known power of the Moonstone would be haha)

Other powers include making the black rocks grow, cooling things down (goes from cooling off to freezing), calming living things to the point of falling asleep/passing out), and having/causing visions

The Moonstone's powers wax and wane with the cycles of the moon

Although his hair is blue, his power is based in his hands (idea from @ghosta-r)

The black rocks didn't recognize Varian at first because he was always wearing gloves when handling them

The Moonstone seeks to protect Varian while still having the two of them work with the Sundrop to defeat the threat

The Sun and Moon's powers don't work on each other, which is why Rapunzel's hair didn't heal Varian (even though I know they did that to get rid of a deu ex machina in the show) (idea from an anon on @ghosta-r's tumblr)

Additional Powers for the Sundrop

Making the black rocks "wither" (aka go away)

Heating things up — goes from warming to burning/boiling

Affinity with animals

High stamina and energy, as well as boosting other's

Hair propulsion

She can also make her hair glow when she's not using her other powers, which makes Varian's hair glow

Rapunzel and Varian

Some of the ways they each fit their classical planet has more to do with their personalities or situation in life

Rapunzel has a bright personality, operates from her feelings, is good with animals, brings out the best in people, and is now living a life of nobility in Corona, which uses a lot of gold imagery

Varian is intelligent and seeks truth through his study of alchemy

Although he lacks the emotionally stabilizing qualities of a moonstone, those are specifically the things he needs for self-realization, which he will gain as he goes through his AU character arc

Varian also seems to be waning, starting in or close to a "full moon" state at the beginning of the show and slowly going to new moon as the "light" from Rapunzel stops shining on him

As Varian starts letting go of his anger, he'll start waxing to full moon again

A lot of the stuff for the following research sections is directly from the sources with only minor paraphrasing to cut out the unnecessary parts since they're from the notes I used for referencing while I figured out parts of the AU. I'm just including this so people can see where my ideas and interpretations came from.

Moonstone's Metaphysical Properties

Associated with the moon

Provides safe travel, especially over water and at night

Stone of inner growth and strength

Strengthens spiritual purity by shrinking the ego

Soothes emotional instability and stress

Helps balance the emotional body, especially any aggressive tendencies

Helps connect to all the different cycles experienced in life

Supports intelligence

Enhances intuition and insight

Promotes inspiration and freedom of expression

Encourages introspection and judgement

Promotes success, and good fortune in love and business matters

Metal energy enhances togetherness and promotes better functioning as a group

Metal energy is essential for going through life without becoming a victim, even though it is a sharp, hard energy that can be destruction

Helps with PMS, conception, pregnancy, childbirth, and breast-feeding

Putting a moonstone in a child's bedroom alleviates nightmares and provides regular sleep patterns

Blue Moonstone (aka Cat's Eye Moonstone): clarity of the mind and inner vision, keeping one focused when in an altered state of awareness, seeing emotional patterns and life lessons, and balancing energies

Gray Moonstone (aka New Moon Stone): perceiving beyond the veil — useful to the clairvoyant, moving into unseen realms, carries the "mysteries and powers of the new moon, where all things exist as potential"

White Moonstone: stimulates psychic perception, vision, and dreams; can magnify one's emotions, and supportive in children to drive away nightmares or insomnia

Peach or Yellow Moonstone: supports heart as it stimulates the mind, soothes worry or anxiety, brings out the best in people, promotes the divine in all situations, and is an emotional support for intuitive or sensitive children

Rainbow Moonstone: acts as a prism, diffuses energy throughout the area, provides psychic protection, clears the mind and senses, aids in lucid dreaming and calm sleep, deflects negativity, eases emotional trauma, and can connect with the energies and spirits of nature

(Sources: charmsoflight.com, healingcrystals.com, crystalvaults.com)

Mythological Enemies of the Sun and Moon

Apep (or Apophis) the moon serpent in Egyptian mythology: tries to eat the Sun

Apep embodies chaos or death, but was a former sun god

Sköll and Hati, the two wolves from Norse mythology: each eat one of them

(Sources: atlasobscura.com, ancientegyptonline.co.uk)

Research on Alchemy (with some astrology)

The Classical Planets

There are seven "classical planets", and each are associated with a metal, and can also be associated with a part of the body

The Sun rules gold

The Moon, silver

Mercury, quicksilver/mercury

Venus, copper

Mars, iron

Jupiter, tin

Saturn, lead

(Sources: soul-guidance.com, esotericonline.net)

The Sun (Sol)

Based on the alchemical symbol, the Sun is pure spirit

Represents gold and the heart

Signifies completion of the Great Work

In astrology, the Sun is symbolic of the Self that "shines openly" to the people around you — the part that is most visible to the world

Imagery of "the king", the "divine" spark in humans, nobility, and incorruptibility

The green lion devouring the Sun

Considered masculine

In the Rosarium, Sol is called a "great animal" and the Moon is called a "plant"

(Sources: whats-your-sign.com, alchemyfourum.com, nlm.nih.gov)

The Moon (Luna)

Based on the alchemical symbol, the Moon is pure mind

Represents silver — the Lesser Work — and the brain

Silver represents clarity, purity, and brilliance

Silver is one of the three foundation metals in the Prima Materia and is prominently places upon the triune throne of transformation

Reaches stronger potential when joined with the Sun (gold) in the Greater Work

Also has power over the occult

Regarded as a giver of moisture and the ruler of the water-sign Cancer

Strong influence on the alchemical allegory "Secrets Dew", or "The Sap of Life"

Dew from the Moon is used to bring a dragon back to life

The moon is also the aqua mirifica, that which extracts the souls from the bodies or gives bodies life and soul

Galen claimed the Moon was responsible for all physical changes in sickness and health

He also thought its aspects were decisive for prognosis

The ancient alchemical belief that the moon promoted plant growth gradually developed into the idea that moon was a plant itself

In the Rosarium, Sol is called a "great animal" and the Moon is called a "plant"

Considered feminine

Represents fertility, resurrection, occult power, immortality, and intuition

(Sources: whats-your-sign.com, themystica.com, nlm.nih.gov)

The Earth

Based on the alchemical symbol, the Earth is material and spirit in equal parts

Used the Aristotelian belief that Earth was primarily dry and secondarily cold

Earth is associated with salt

Black bile (see the four humours)

(Sources: esotericonline.com, nlm.nih.gov)

Air

One of the four classical elements

Blood since both are "hot and wet (see the four humours)

Combining the "masculine" quality of heat with the "feminine" quality of moisture

The northern point of the compass

(Sources: nlm.nih.gov, frisian.com)

The Four Humours & Temperments

Earth - black bile - black - autumn - afternoon - maturity - cold and dry - sour - spleen or liver - Saturn - Taurus, Virgo, Capricorn - melancholic temperament

Melancholic, meaning tending to depress the spirits, irascible, sad, saddening

Melancholics used to be identified by their pale, sallow looks, their lack of appetite and tendency to withdraw from society. Generally considered healthy to harbour a dose of it --> helped temper our enthusiasms, keep our feet on the ground, practice introspection and contemplation, appreciate art, and empathize with the distress of others.

Water - phlegm - white - winter - evening - old age - cold and moist - salty - brain - moon - Cancer, Scorpio, Pisces - phlegmatic temperament

Phlegmatic, meaning slow, stolid, cool, impassive

Phlegm was associated with slowness, sleepiness, runny noses and lack of drive of any sort. But when present with a relatively high proportion of choler, phlegm was thought to ensure a sense of calm, stability and serenity, as well as a capacity for prolonged concentration and for appropriate judgements and upraisals of situations and people.

Fire - yellow bile - yellow - summer - midday - youth/adolescence - hot and dry - bitter - gall bladder or spleen - Mars - Aries, Leo, Sagittarius - choleric temperament

Choler, meaning the quality or state of being irascible; choleric, meaning angry, irate, irascible; bile, meaning "inclination to anger", spleen; bilious, meaning peevish, ill-natured; gall, meaning bitterness, rancor, insolence; spleen, meaning "mingled ill-will and bad temper"; and jaundiced, meaning envy, dictate, hostility

In a balanced person, the predominance of choler ensured a reactive and quick-tempered character. A choleric was typically able to make decisions well and fast, and preferred action over contemplation. But a surplus of choler could become "burned" and eventually turn into melancholy (melan=black, choler=bile, in Greek). Character could also become acrid and negative; reactivity might then be directed at the wrong objects. This sort of choleric could get angry easily and have episodes of uncontrolled, potentially dangerous rage.

Air - blood - red - spring - morning - childhood - hot and moist - sweet - heart - Jupiter - Gemini, Aquarius, Libra - sanguine temperament

Sanguine, meaning sturdy, confident, optimistic, cheerful, happy

The sanguine person was typically balanced, equanimous, patient, thoughtful, active in a measured way, able to judge people and situations well, and to contain his or her own shifts of moods, as well as those of others. The presence of blood diminished the power exerted by other humours that might have been present in high doses. An excess of it, however, went along with a general insensitivity and indifference to the fate of others.

(Sources: nlm.nih.gov, frisian.com, passionsandtempers.com)

General

Began roughly in the year 100 CE

Reached its peak in medieval times

The word "alchemy" is thought to derive from an Egyptian word, "chem" or "qem", meaning black — a reference to the black alluvial soils bordering the Nile

Additionally, the Greek word "chyma", means to fuse or cast metals

This established itself in Arabic as "al kimia"

Many books on alchemy were translated into Arabic from the Greek before being introduced to European audiences

Allied and intertwined with traditional Babylonian-Greek style astrology

Built to complement each other in the search for hidden knowledge (knowledge that is not common i.e. the occult)

"Alchemy was an art based partly upon experimentation and partly upon magic"

Based on a misunderstanding of basic chemistry and physics

One interpretation of the alchemic planetary symbols considers the nature of spirit, mind and material in order of precedence:

The circle represents spirit, or the soul

The semicircle or crescent represents mind

The cross or arrow represents the physical, material nature

Alchemists based their theories and experiments on the Aristotelian assumption that the world and everything in it are composed of four basic elements (air, earth, fire and water)

This was along with three that were called "essential" substances: salt, mercury and sulfur

Alchemists believed metals were alive and grew inside the Earth

Base or common metals were thought to be a spiritually and physically immature form of higher metals, such as gold

To them, metals were the same thing in different stages of development or refinement on their way to spiritual perfection

(Sources: esotericonline.net, livescience.com)

#tangled the series #tts varian #varian #varian the alchemist #moon varian #moonstone varian #tts #moonstone au #tts au #tangled the series au #sorry for using the same drawing twice #i've had this typed up since sunday and I wanted to share it as soon as i could

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thesundanceghost · 8 years ago

Text

i’m ready to break, you’re ready to bend

for @eggo-my-leggo, thanks for motivating me ely :)

read on ao3

tw: implied/referenced child abuse

Steve walked down the road quickly. His eyes were burning, but he wasn’t sure how much of that was from the cold. It was freezing, and he tucked his hands under his armpits before the fell off. Winter in Indiana was always shitty, but in the evening it was even worse.

“Why the hell couldn’t you have grabbed your jacket, Harrington?” he muttered angrily at himself under his breath.

His teeth were chattering, which unfortunately only worsened the soreness in his jaw. His cheek stung bitterly, and he tried not to think about it, since it only brought hot tears to his eyes. He dragged a hand over his face and continued stomping through the cold, empty streets until he spotted his destination.

The phone booth was still freezing, only a couple of degrees warmer than the outside, but he pushed through. He grabbed some quarters out of his back pocket-- he was so thankful he actually got in the habit of keeping change on him in case of emergencies-- and inserted them into the slot. He grabbed the phone off the hook and pressed it to his ear, grateful for his hair which kept the cold plastic of the phone away from his skin.

He dialed the number slowly, not because he had to think about it but because his hands were so cold it felt like he was wearing six pairs of layered gloves. As he waited, Steve looked at his reflection in the glass. His cheek was still bright red, which didn’t surprise him, and there the skin on his jaw looked a bit darker that he was used to. He pressed his fingers to it softly and winced as pain shot through his skull. That was definitely going to bruise.

He stared at himself for a bit longer, feeling his throat tighten up as his mind raced over the events of that evening. He took a shaky breath which felt like he was breathing through cotton balls.

“Hi, Wheeler residence,” Mike’s young bored voice called out over the line, and Steve cleared his throat, standing up a bit straighter.

“Hey kid, is your sister there?” Steve asked, trying to keep his voice normal.

Mike sighed before yelling out to Nancy on the other end of the call. Steve waited patiently until a familiar voice rang out.

“Steve?” His girlfriend asked, and he couldn’t help but relax slightly at her voice.

“Hey Nance,” he responded, trying to keep it as casual as possible “What’re you doing right now?”

“We’re having game night with the Henderson’s. I told you that, didn’t I?” She asked slowly.

Steve closed his eyes, instantly upset with himself for forgetting. He hated making Nancy feel like he didn’t listen to her. “Yeah, no, sorry, I just forgot.” He paused, wondering if he should just give up, but he pressed on desperately. “So that’s gonna go late tonight?”

“You want to come over, don’t you?” She asked, though it wasn’t much of a question. She sounded unimpressed, but also a bit amused, so he got the feeling she wasn’t actually upset. Steve stayed quiet. “Steve, there’s no way I can get out of this. They’re totally going to notice if I sneak upstairs. I’m sorry, alright?”

Nancy did sound sorry, and there was no way he could hold it against her, but some irrational part of him couldn’t help but feel incredibly unwanted at that moment. She has better things to do that give a shit about you, a voice sneered at him from the back of his mind.

He pressed his forehead against the cold glass of the phone booth, squeezing his eyes shut in frustration as he pushed the angry thoughts aside. His eyes felt hot as the tears that had been threatening to spill over bubbled up to the surface. She’s my girlfriend, Steve reminded himself. That’s it. She doesn’t owe me anything. Stop being dramatic.

He cleared his throat and blinked rapidly before responding, but he words still sounded a bit strangled. “Right. Sorry, I shouldn’t have called.”

Nancy didn’t say anything for a second, and Steve wondered momentarily if she’d hung up. “Hey are you okay? You sound a bit odd.”

“I’m great, Nance,” he responded a bit too quickly. His voice broke slightly in the middle of the sentence, and he winced, knowing there was no way she didn’t pick up on that.

“Steve, if something’s wrong--” she started, her voice soft but serious, and fuck he needed to stop this before he started crying in a phone booth.

“Nancy, nothing’s wrong,” he said with a chuckle that somehow managed to sound normal. “I just miss you, is all.”

There was a silence before Nancy spoke up again. “Alright. Well, I’ll see you Monday, right? At school?"

“Of course,” he responded easily, already a bit distracted as he looked around outside to see where he’d head next.

“I miss you too, Steve,” she suddenly said, and that brought Steve directly back to the conversation. He smiled, easily able to picture the blush she was wearing from her voice.

“Bye Nance,” he answered back, finding it a bit easier to breathe after that.

Steve heard the dial tone take over the call and he set the phone back on the hook. He walked out of the phone booth and glanced around at the streets, not sure what his Plan B was quite yet. It had started snowing again in the time he was on the phone, a soft sprinkle of snowflakes drifting down. He pulled the sleeves of his sweater down over his hands and jammed them into his pockets before they got too cold.

There was a Waffle House that was only about a ten-minute walk away, but he doubted they would let him sit in there without ordering anything and he definitely hadn’t grabbed his wallet either.

“Nice going, man,” he muttered to himself. He was thankful it was late enough that everyone was at home, because he wasn’t sure how sane he looked at the moment.

He probably could’ve walked to the Wheeler’s anyway- not many families just turn someone away when it’s freezing cold and they’ve got a swollen cheek. But he could just picture the shocked and sympathetic faces in his mind, and that was enough to set him off the idea. Even Nancy would pity him, and he really didn’t want that. He loved her to death, and would probably die for her in a heartbeat (he’d already gotten too close to testing that theory), but she wouldn’t understand.

Without realizing, he’d started walking down the road nearing the forest. He let his feet lead him to his destination without any conscious thought. Deep down, he knew where he was going, but he pushed it out of his head for about ten minutes before he stared down the driveway to the old house on the edge of the woods.

What the hell are you doing? A voice that sounded suspiciously like Carol’s shouted at him from the back of his mind, but he pushed it away and made his way to the front door. There was music playing from inside, something loud that sounded vaguely familiar but nothing he could place a finger on. He knocked twice before he could change his mind. As he waited for the door to open, he focused all his energy on not freezing to death.

The music cut off and then the door swung open, and suddenly Steve was staring into the face of Jonathan Byers.

Jonathan froze as soon as he saw him like he’d seen a ghost. He clearly hadn’t expected company, and was dressed in sweatpants and a T-shirt underneath an old flannel. They stared at each other for a long moment before Jonathan’s eyes dropped to Steve’s cheek, which was still stinging slightly. Steve shuddered under the attention, but luckily it was cold enough that it probably wasn’t obvious.

Finally Steve cleared his throat. "You gonna let me in, or watch me freeze to death?"

Wordlessly, Jonathan opened the door wider and stepped aside so Steve could slip past him. It was warm in the house, and Steve couldn’t help the shiver of relief that went through him as the cold slowly began to slip off of him.

Jonathan hadn’t stopped staring at him, and that was way too much for Steve to handle at that moment, so he spoke up. “Is your family here?”

“No,” Jonathan replied. His voice was hoarse, like he hadn’t spoken much recently. “My mom’s on a date. Will is at the Sinclair’s.”

“Are you busy?” Steve asked. Part of him hoped that Jonathan would say yes, that he was swamped with homework or about to fall asleep. Then Steve could at least say he tried, but Jonathan just shook his head.

Steve nodded in acknowledgement. Jonathan looked at his cheek again, and the intensity in his eyes made Steve uncomfortable, but he didn’t know what to say.

“You can sit down if you want,” Jonathan offered after a moment, sounding hesitant.

Grateful for an excuse to do something other than stand there, Steve sat on the couch and peeled off his jacket, which was cold and wet from the snow. Jonathan sat at the edge of the armchair across from him, looking uncomfortable and out of place even in his own home. Steve got the feeling it was his fault.

Steve had held maybe two conversations with Jonathan since the whole...thing, and one of those was the incredibly awkward attempt at a normal apology. Jonathan had kept telling him he didn’t have to, saying that they were “even”, but Steve didn’t believe that for a second. They’d left things better than they were, but there was no way that anyone would call them friends. In fact, if it weren’t for Nancy, they probably would’ve drifted apart completely.

So what the hell was he doing here?

“Do you want to, I don’t know, talk about it?” Jonathan asked with a shrug, breaking the careful silence. He tripped over his words, clearly not sure of the protocol here.

“Nope,” Steve responded without hesitation. There was no way he was going to talk about his feelings with Jonathan freaking Byers.

He leaned back in his seat and glanced around the house. He realized with a start that this was the first time he’d been back in the Byers’ home since November. It was cleaner than he remembered, and the hole in the wall had been fixed, although it was still bare and stood out against the rest of the wall. He stared at the ceiling, remembering vividly the image of a monster falling out of it. It gave him the creeps just thinking about it, and he wondered how Jonathan could spend all his time here. Since November, Steve hadn’t gotten close to his swimming pool, and he hadn’t even seen what had happened there. Jonathan was a hell of a lot braver than him, that was for sure.

“It wasn’t Tommy, was it?” Jonathan suddenly asked, and Steve redirected his attention. He wasn’t looking at Steve. His head was ducked down, and he was wringing his hands anxiously. Steve frowned, and Jonathan glanced up to meet his eyes, shrugging. “I just… figure you’d look a lot worse if you got in a fight with Tommy H.”

Steve raised his eyebrows. “Maybe I won,” he shot back, though he wasn’t sure why he even bothered.

Jonathan gave a small snort, as if the very idea of Steve winning in a fight was ridiculous. Steve got the feeling he should have been offended, but he really couldn’t find the energy, so he turned back to staring at the ceiling.

“Was it your dad?” Jonathan asked, his voice quieter.

Steve froze at the question. No, he wanted to yell in response, but he suddenly couldn’t remember how to form the word.

“That’s a nice picture!” He said instead, nodding at a framed photograph on the counter. It was a nice picture-- Joyce Byers had her arms wrapped tightly around Will’s stomach, and her face was tucked in his neck, no doubt peppering her youngest child with kisses as he laughed. “Looks like it should be on a Christmas card.”

Jonathan didn’t say anything for a moment and just looked at the picture. His eyes were softer as he looked at it. “I don’t think we’re really a Christmas card kind of family.”

Steve snorted, and the sound brought Jonathan’s eyes back to him. “You should be glad for that,” Steve commented. “We have to do one every year, and it’s shit. This year was particularly terrible. My mom sat in this ugly and uncomfortable chair, and me and my dad stood behind her in suits, and we all try to smile like we don’t all wish we were anywhere but there. I looked like some kind of uptight senator with nice hair.”

Jonathan looked down, but Steve caught the beginning of a smile on his lips. It occurred to him that he’d never made Jonathan smile before, and the realization made him feel strangely proud at that moment.

“Why do you do it, if everyone hates it?” He asked after a moment.“Because we…” Steve faded off, frowning. He didn’t really have an answer to that. It was just the way things were. “We just do. If we didn’t, it’d be like the end of the world. Hell, it could be like a Mad Max apocalyptic wasteland, and my mom would still prioritize those goddamn cards. Hell if I know why.”

As he spoke, Steve began to think about how vastly different his life was from Jonathan’s. It was almost as if him, a Harrington, sitting on the Byers’ couch was plain abnormal, like a housecat walking through the middle of Antarctica. He looked at Jonathan, and got the strange feeling that he was thinking the exact same thing.

They drifted back into silence, which Steve didn’t mind. He rubbed at his jaw, which was actually growing more painful with time. He opened and closed his mouth several times, feeling as the joint groaned with the movement and made a small popping sound.

He frowned. If this didn’t fix itself soon, making out with Nancy was going to be a bitch.

Jonathan suddenly stood up and walked briskly into the kitchen. Steve stared after him, wondering how he could have pissed him off in such short a time. Whatever, Steve thought, It’s not like you wanted to talk to him about it. That wasn’t why he was here. He came here to… to what? Get away from the cold?

Sitting here on the Byers’ couch completely alone with a bruised jaw… he was starting to miss the snow.

All of a sudden Jonathan reentered the room, now holding a small bowl with a spoon stuck inside. He handed it to Steve without explanation, and he looked down to see--

“Ice cream?” Steve asked, feeling bewildered.

Jonathan kept frowning, but Steve realized now it was out of uncertainty rather than anger. “For your jaw,” he explained gruffly. “Soft cold foods help.”

Steve blinked. He hadn’t meant to be obvious before, but Jonathan must’ve noticed. It was… thoughtful. “You have ice cream in January?” He heard himself say, and he’d never wanted to punch himself more.

Jonathan frowned, immediately curling in on himself, and Steve wanted to shout at him to stop it. “Yeah, well, Will wanted some… you don’t have to eat it if you don’t want to.”

He reached out to take it back, and Steve immediately took a huge spoonful of the vanilla ice cream and popped it into his mouth possessively. “Didn’t say I didn’t want it,” he said around the food.

Jonathan blinked at him like he had three heads before turning and sitting back down. Steve swallowed the ice cream, the sweetness of it waking him up a bit. He watched as the younger boy picked at the moth holes in his shirt.

“You ready for school on Monday?” Steve asked. He was never good at staying quiet.

Jonathan looked up. “Not really,” he responded honestly. There was an awkward pause. “You?”

“Better to be stuck at school that stuck at home,” Steve responded without thinking. The answer was a bit more honest than he’d been going for. Jonathan seemed to be taken by surprise as well. “I mean, I’ve got friends at school, you know.”

Steve looked down at his ice cream before he could see the other boy’s reaction. They both knew perfectly well that the only real friend Steve had left was Nancy, and he’d still seen plenty of her over the holidays.

“Are you going to join any clubs or anything? Gotta build up that resume, right?” Steve tried to joke.

Jonathan looked at him with distaste, though he figured it was more because of the stupid question. “Yeah,” he drawled sarcastically. “I’m going to join a club. That’s what I’m gonna do.”

Steve snorted at the sarcasm in amusement. He hadn’t been exposed to much of Jonathan’s sense of humor, but it took him by surprise every time, and he found it hilarious. “Yeah, I get that. I was thinking about going out for baseball again, but I’m not so sure anymore.”

Not since I used a baseball bat to knock out an eight foot monster from a parallel universe, he didn’t say, but Jonathan nodded like he understood.

“I hate baseball,” Jonathan said suddenly with obvious distaste. After a second he looked up guiltily. “Sorry, I mean, it’s not that bad…”

Steve laughed. “It’s okay. I mean, I love baseball, sure, but I can handle one person not liking it.”

Jonathan relaxed. “Sorry,” he said again anyways. He looked at Steve, a weirdly sad look in his eyes. “It was always my dad’s sport.”

Well then. That changed the mood.

Steve looked down at the bowl of ice cream again. The silence that came over them was the most uncomfortable one yet. He didn’t know what to say. (That wasn’t true. He knew exactly what to say. He just didn’t know how to say it.)

He spared a subtle glance towards Jonathan. He was lost in thought, and judging by the look on his face, they weren’t good thoughts. The image sent a jolt of guilt and discomfort through Steve. He wanted to fix this.

“You were right, before,” Steve found himself saying. He looked back down at the ice cream like a life line. “It was my dad.”

He waited for a gasp, a whine of pity, anything, but he was met with silence. He looked at Jonathan, who was watching him carefully. He didn’t look surprised, and for some reason that upset Steve.

“But you know, I deserved it. I was egging him on and totally asking for it. I mean, come on, you know better than anyone that sometimes I need to get punched,” Steve continued, hoping the joke would lighten the mood, but it served the opposite effect.

Jonathan flinched, his frown deepening. Bad joke, Harrington, he thought to himself, regretting his words. He honestly didn’t even know why he cared what Jonathan Byers thought of his dad, but for some reason he needed to set things straight.

“He’s not a bad guy,” Steve tried again.

“Sure,” Jonathan replied monotonously. Steve couldn’t detect any hidden implications in that response. Hell, he couldn’t detect anything from that response. So naturally he plowed on.

“Well maybe he’s an asshole sometimes, but like, he’s my dad. And he’s just a bit strict and stuff sometimes but he still loves me. It’s not like he hits me all the time, you know, he’s a dick, sure, but he’s not abusive or whatever, he’s not like--”

Steve stopped short, the words freezing on his tongue.

“He’s not like my dad,” Jonathan finished for him. He didn’t look angry, like Steve thought he’d be.

It wasn’t like it was a secret. The first time Steve had ever laid eyes on Jonathan in elementary school, he remembered seeing the bruise around his wrist, like someone had grabbed him a bit too roughly. The bruises hadn’t stopped there. Everyone in town knew about Lonnie Byers, even if there were mixed reactions about him. Some people thought he was an abusive asshole, some of them thought he did the best he could with his sons, and some of them thought he was a goddamned hero just for being able to get out of Hawkins. Steve’s parents had nothing but distaste for Lonnie Byers, but it had more to do with his image and presentation of himself than his parenting style.

Steve didn’t know what to say, so he just shrugged. He couldn’t meet Jonathan’s eyes, so he looked back at the melting ice cream instead, pushing it around with his spoon. He wondered if he should apologize, but he kept quiet, not wanting to step on any more toes. He’d already gotten kicked out of one house that night. He didn’t want to make it two.

Steve shivered at the thought of going back out in the snow. Jonathan must’ve noticed, because he reached over to grab a coat on the chair and tossed it to Steve without question. Steve caught it, his quick reflexes coming in handy, and stared at the denim jacket. Jonathan shrugged, looking unconcerned with the fact that he just offered to let Steve wear his clothes.

Well, Steve thought as he set the ice cream down and shrugged on the jacket, if it doesn’t bother him, it can’t hurt. Steve was lankier than Jonathan, but he remembered the sleeves being too long on the younger boy, so it fit without too much trouble. It was warm, and Steve couldn’t help but pull it tight around him, waiting for the warmth to seep into his bones.

“What’d you do, then?” Jonathan asked, leaning forward on his elbows. He nodded towards Steve’s cheek. He sounded curious, but not judgmental, and Steve appreciated it.

He smirked, though it felt a bit bitter. “I told him that he should start bringing Julia to family dinners. She’s the woman he’s been screwing for like five years now.”

Jonathan blinked, clearly surprised at the information. “He didn’t know you knew about her?”

Despite himself, Steve chuckled at that. “Nah, he knows. I mean, everyone knows, just nobody ever talks about it. Including me, usually."

“Oh."

Steve flopped down on the couch, continuing with the story. “Yeah, I said that if she came over, then maybe my dad would actually start showing up for dinner, since he can’t seem to stay away from her. And that if he was serious about me being out of control and how I need to be kept in line more, than having two moms would probably get the job done. He didn’t seem to like that very much.”

Jonathan let out a small chuckle, and Steve grinned at him, ignoring the pain in his jaw. He was surprised at how much he liked making Jonathan laugh. It felt like an accomplishment, being able to put a smile on Jonathan Byers’ face.

There was more to the story, but Steve stopped there. He didn’t need to talk about the yelling, the shouts about sons respecting fathers and the replies about husbands respecting wives. That part of the story was too depressing, and Steve was nothing if not a good entertainer.

“Hey, what were you listening to before I go here?” Steve asked, the thought suddenly occurring to him.

Jonathan glanced over at the speakers, blushing like he hadn’t known Steve had heard. “Bowie,” he mumbled in answer.

Steve hummed and nodded. That made sense. He didn’t actively listen to Bowie, but he’s heard him on the radio from time to time. “Do you want to keep listening?”

Jonathan looked at him suspiciously, like he was trying to figure out if it was a trick or not, and Steve made sure to keep his expression genuine. He got the feeling Jonathan was just starting to let his guard down, and he didn’t want to mess that up.

Satisfied with whatever he found, Jonathan crossed to the stereo and pushed the tape back in, waiting to sit back down until the music began to play. An electric guitar rang out through the small room and Steve waited patiently for the lyrics to start.

It wasn’t his kind of music, but as he listened to it, he couldn’t help but bob his head in time with the beat and hum along to the strange melody. He could see why Jonathan listened to this stuff. It was meant to be played at top volume, to be screamed at the top of your lungs, and Steve felt like he could resonate with that emotion.

It was a long song, but Steve didn’t get bored, taking in every guitar solo and verse with excitement. When it ended and gave way to a slower song, he looked over at Jonathan.

“Could we, uh,” Steve floundered. “Could we play that again?”

Jonathan smiled briefly but obediently went to take out the tape and manually rewind it. Thirty seconds later, the song started again. Steve closed his eyes and listened to the melody wash over him again, humming along to the parts he remembered.

When it ended for the second time, Steve didn’t have to ask before Jonathan was rewinding the tape again. This time, Steve watched Jonathan, who was mouthing along to the words and moving his hands like he was playing on the drums. Steve didn’t know any words besides “teenage wildlife,” but every time Bowie sang it, Steve made sure to sing it unison, much to Jonathan’s apparent delight.

The song ended for the third time, and this time Jonathan grabbed a tape from the table. “Trust me, you’ll like this,” Jonathan said confidently as he stuck it in the stereo and waited for it to play.

Steve did like it—it was softer, but still rebellious with a good melody and awesome guitar phrases, and he felt exhilarated just listening to it. He grinned through the whole thing. It made his jaw ache, but he didn’t care. It was the best he’d felt all night.

They went through countless tapes, mostly of Bowie, but there were other punk bands interspersed, some Steve like more than others. He really did like listening to the music, but after a while, he began to just watch Jonathan. Jonathan stayed thoughtful through the whole thing, closing his eyes and listening to each song like it was the best thing he’d ever heard. He wasn’t sure why, but something about it made Steve want to take a picture of him.

After they finished another tape, Steve glanced at the clock on the wall, which now read 12:21. It must've been later than he'd thought when he'd stormed out of his house.

“What time is your mom getting back?” he asked the other boy.

Jonathan glanced at the clock and frowned, like he had forgotten time was passing. “She didn’t say really. Probably soon.”

Steve sat forward and reached for his shoes, which he’d kicked off sometime during the mini concert. “I should probably get home. Before my mom sends out an APB.”

He said the last part with a crooked smile, even though it was a stupid joke. It was past midnight—his parents were fast asleep whether he was home or not.

“Are you sure?” Jonathan asked hesitantly. “You could stay here, if… if you wanted.”

Steve shook his head. He appreciated the offer, but he didn't think he could sleep in that house without having nightmares. Not that he was going to tell Jonathan that. “Nah, I’ll be fine. Besides, I know how to sneak in my own house, and my dad has work early tomorrow. If I’m lucky, I can avoid a lecture about tonight until…” he tilted his head in thought. “Probably Monday.”

Jonathan nodded, and they both got to their feet. Steve suddenly remembered the weight of the jacket on his shoulders, and he glanced down at it, unsure.

“You can keep it,” Jonathan said, and Steve’s eyes flew to his. Jonathan frowned, reddening slightly. “For the walk home, I mean. It’s cold out there. I’d feel like a shitty host if I let you freeze out there. You can give it back at school."

Steve nodded and tucked his hands into the pockets, grateful for the warmth. He made his way to the door, and Jonathan followed behind him. He paused, not sure what to say.

“Hey, thanks man,” Steve said, dropping his hand from where he had reached for the doorknob. Jonathan startled, like Steve had just said something insanely ridiculous. Maybe he had.

“I didn’t do anything,” the boy responded, scratching awkwardly at his jaw.

“You’re a good guy,” Steve said with a shrug. He paused, not sure what to say. “I can see why she likes you.”

Jonathan’s eyes jumped to his, and a blush came over his cheeks. It was subtle, but he was so pale that any coloring stood out starkly. Steve just smirked and clapped him on the shoulder before walking outside. It was still freezing, but at least the snow had stopped. He glanced back to see Jonathan standing in the doorway, watching him closely. They shared one last awkward smile before Steve strolled leisurely down the road, humming a Bowie song to break to eerie silence around him.

#steve harrington #jonathan byers #nancy wheeler #stonathan #stancy #stoncy #emma writes #stranger things #this is way longer than it was supposed to be #and 80% of it is awkward boy conversations

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