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dixonarchives · 3 years ago

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[ 07 ] | 𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐃

sʏɴᴏᴘsɪs: The farm makes you feel weirdly anxious and it feels like it’s taking away your sense of security within your character.

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ᴛɪᴛʟᴇ: Greene Farm

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Telling Carol that the impromptu search party had no result in finding anything remotely related to Sophia felt like you were digging salt in the still freshly open wound. The sounds of her desperate cries which had echoed so reverently played like a loop in your head as you approached the RV with a sense of dread being repeatedly dumped over you like a cold bucket of water as you took another step.

"I can't tell her" You speak suddenly, startling Daryl who flinches slightly at the panic laced in your tone. He cranes his neck down, peering down at you with a perplexed expression. His lips twist into a thin line, and his right brow raises slightly.

"Tell her wha'?" He asks as he continues walking. The silence between your next answer and his question feels unbearable to you. The repeated sloshy sound of his boots against the dewy morning grass, the rattling of the buckles off his backpack beating against his back and the contents of the bag, your thumping heart that causes flushes of blood to fill your ears in an obnoxious sound similar to waves crashing against the shoreline. Just everything.

"That we found nothing" You state with matter-o-factory with wide eyes. You don't know why you feel so strongly for this woman and sure, she had become someone in the group who you've seen as a motherly presence and seeing how she was treated by her douchebag ex-husband left a sour taste in your mouth, but you still couldn't put a finger on it.

Sophia was such a lovely girl. From the time she spent wandering up to you after runs asking if you had seen any pretty things and the light in her eyes when you pulled out the beaten hot pink unicorn notepad and matching pencil, all encased in its tattered flashy packaging, it felt like you made a connection with her. One that was special and led her to feel comfortable with you. One that allowed her and her mother to run to you and feel that their lives were safe in your hands when the quarry went up in flames merely days ago.

"She won' expect us to find her daugh'er this quick.. Gotta keep lookin'" Daryl mumbles back in his attempt to provide some sort of relief for your racing heart. You gulp, feeling whatever saliva you had left in your mouth create a knot in your throat that tightened when you watched Carol step out of the RV and inhale the warming morning air.

Her arms wrap around herself in an attempt to provide comfort and refrain whatever feelings of anxiousness to lay at bay. The way she dismisses Lori who speaks with a concerned expression makes you feel a bit weary because you know inside that the woman before you in crumbling at every second of the day.

"Daryl! [Y/N]! Almost had me worried!" Dale calls out in relief as he waves down from the roof of the RV with his black dusty binoculars hanging around his neck. Your eyes close in a squint as you attempt to look at Dale but the bounce of the golden rays glaring into your eyes prevents you from doing so. Your hand comes up to block out the disturbance as you finally catch sight of the usual cheerful smile you seen gracing Dale's features appears once more as he hurriedly clambers down the narrow ladders placed beside the RV's open door.

Carol exhales in relief at the sight of the two of you but her rightly hopeful expression falters when she comes to the realisation that you have come back empty-handed.

"Carol.." You start, not being able to find the comforting words you were hoping for. She dismisses you with a meekly raised hand and a soft, downhearted expression "I understand. You won't find Sophia on your first try" She glosses over the subject as she opens her previously crossed arms for a hug. You accept; falling into her arms almost naturally and the grip she has on you confirms her previous statement. She wasn't speaking to you - more so herself. She was trying to reassure herself with her own words to mask her disappointment.

"Look for her later too, gonna eat summin" Daryl brushes past and the tails of his backpack slap against your arm. You watch over Carol's shoulder as he clambers into the RV with a heavy sigh, presumably throwing his pack to the corner as he shakes out the ache in his shoulder from carrying around his crossbow all night.

Carol pulls back and places a hand on your shoulder. She tilts her head ever-so-slightly and shares with you an expression you can only muster to be one that mothers can only do. The faintness in her smile and masked emotions behind her watery eyes pulls at your heartstrings and provides a feeling of odd-warmth in your heart. Somehow, she tells you she knows what you're thinking without having to say it to you.

"Thank you for trying" She practically whispers as she nods. Your lips tug downwards into a frown that you try to hide as soon as it appears on your face but you know she's seen it as her hand travels to your head and smooths down your windswept locks with the fondness only a mother could provide.

"I'm gonna keep looking for her. For you" You reply. The weirdly sentimental atmosphere causes your eyes to glaze but Carol doesn't let you dwell on it for long.

"C'mon, you gotta come meet Hershel and his girls. You haven't seen them yet"

"How's Carl holding up?" You ask Rick from the doorway of the improvised hospital room. Carl lays in the bed all too big for him which dwarfs his already small figure. Rick holds onto one of his pale hands with his face downcast.

"Holdin' up" He replies curtly. Your presence seemingly brings Rick to a reality check as he allows himself to lay back and relax, causing him to release a breathy exhale - one that you've heard too many times in the past few months. The sound of relief washing over someone for a split second only for their troubles to hit them again moments later. It sucks.

"That's good, I heard you guys got the equipment you needed" You attempt small talk, but Rick's unwavering gaze causes you to feel a bit awkward "He's a trooper" You smile awkwardly, eyes flickering between the father and the boy.

Rick blinks and raises from the wooden dining chair that had been moved into the room "Otis died for Carl" He states.

"Otis?" You echo.

"One of Hershel's people. Patricia's husband" He explains "These people took me and my son in and now their own family member is dead, [Y/N], dead" He repeats almost menacingly.

You don't quite understand what Rick was getting at, but his unstable attitude causes an anxiousness to bubble in your chest. Your arms cross over your chest as you lean into the doorway for support as you watch Rick hover over Carl's bedside with his hands placed dominantly on his hips.

You don't know what to say and the urge to just walk away from the situation is overpowering but you're curious, and curiosity kills the cat. With your situation though, it seems curiosity causes you to ask stupid questions.

"How did... How did Hershel react?" You ask timidly. The timidness in your tone shocks you slightly as you've never felt so out of place in a setting, but maybe watching a man struggle with the possibly life endangering sound causes you to feel and act awkwardly.

Although, Rick's behaviour was understandably unstable and even so, you don't like when you can't read people. It makes you anxious and being unable to examine a situation activates your fight or flight instinct as as much as you like to shout and get a hothead, your bark is worse that your bite.

"He accepted it" He replies "Lettin' us stay, but don't know how long" Ah, just what you were looking for.

You were about to open your mouth when a woman with short blonde hair slips into the room "How is he?" She asks. You guess it's one of Hershel's daughters - Patricia specifically - since you had only met Maggie and Beth thanks to Carol, so you slip away while Rick makes conversation with her.

The farmhouse floorboard groan under your footing, squealing in agony as you step onto one of the more beaten floorboards with every other step. Even with the sunlight spilling into the house through the big glass panes, you can't help but feel that this house is shrouded in a depressive dark and haunted atmosphere. It gives you the feeling that the family who resides here had seen their fair share of troubles before the turn.

You turn the corner and fall into an opening where the hallway meets the kitchen and living area. To your left, the living room looks uninhabited and from the angle you can see out the window, your group resides outside the house.

"Oh, hi [Y/N]" Beth calls sweetly from the kitchen sink where she scrubs away at the remains of the mornings breakfast. Her blonde hair had been tied back into a loose high ponytail, with a small braid plaited into her wavy blonde locks. She throws you a smile over her shoulder, one that doesn't reach her eyes.

"Hi Beth, need some help?" You ask. You suppose making friends with the people providing you with land would be something expected of your stay. Besides, Beth reminds of you of your past niece. The girl, although different with her locks and other features, their personalities and live for music mirrors each other.

You walk towards the kitchen as your eyes dart around the personal memorabilia scattered around the home. The fridge was full of family photos and family members whom you guessed had turned as you hadn't come across them in your short stay. You feel nosey, almost intruding on the family which causes you to tear your eyes away with a flick of your head.

"Oh no, it's okay you don't have to!" She watches as you pick up a towel that was draped on the counter and begin to wipe down the wet cutlery and plates. You can feel Beth's gaze of your side-profile and the imaginary holes being drilled into your back by the family photos placed around the kitchen.

"I wanna help" You reassure her, watching as her frame relaxes and she gets back into cleaning up the dishes.

Silence falls over you both and you fall into a routine. She would pass you a fork or knife and you dry it, placing it into the cutlery stand, and so on. The domestic act becomes therapeutic as you imagine you're with your family once more.

"Aunty [Y/N]!" Your niece calls as she barrels towards you with open arms. A smile stretches across your face as you prepare for one of her slightly aggressive hugs. She always manages to slightly wind you when doing so, but you could never tell her no.

"Hi honey" You reply, watching as her mother appears in between the bustling crowds of the airport.

You're flying to Georgia for your stupid job. You've always been a homebird, someone who preferred to stay where they knew but the your job offered you a temporary placement in Georgia where your pay would be raised to an amount you could only dream of.

"I'm gonna miss you" She pouts, looking up from your chest as she prolongs the hug. You can't help but pout too as the look on her heart tugging your heartstrings once more. You didn't want to leave your beloved niece whom you've shared plenty of heartfelt memories with, but your job was important and you could use the money.

"I'll miss you too! But it's only three months and time seems to be going by faster these days anyway" You smooth down her hair as she nods solemnly. Your sister had caught up to you by now and she had a miserable smile painted on her face.

"Don't look at me like that" You laugh as you bring your left arm to pull her into the shared hug. She exhales, shaking her head slightly causing her short hair to tickle your face. Your nose scrunched slightly, pulling away from the sensation.

"I'm proud of you" She states, using her right had to pull your head into a deeper hug "I just want you to be careful"

"I will" You reassure her "And I'll text you everyday until your sick of me" You add.

The feminine robotic voice calls out your flight number and you share a look with your sister and niece.

"Is that your flight?" Your niece asks with her face sullen. You nod, placing a kiss on her forehead which she allows. She'd usually wipe it away after accompanied with a 'yuck!' and giggle, but she stills and allows for the affection.

You snap out of the daydream after Beth knocks off the water. The loud squeaking sound the taps make causes your face to twist in discomfort. Beth giggles slightly as she catches your reflection in the window "Yeah, sound like nails on a chalkboard"

"You can say that twice" You groan, wiping your hands in the towel before you pass it off to Beth. You stare out the window, watching as your group gathered and collates the supplies. A run is far overdue and you're sure that Rick doesn't want to use up Hershel's supplies - unlike Shane.

"So uh.. You from around here?" Beth asks curiously as she wrings her hands between the fabric of the worn kitchen towel. You blink, chewing on your lip lightly as you inhale shakily. "Nah, from [BLANK]"

Beth nods, watching as your body becomes off-characteristically jittery "Why are you here then? If you don't mind me asking!" She laughs nervously, unsure if you would think that her question sounded rude or intruding. But, you shake your head as you rip your eyes away from the window to look at Beth.

"Came here for work... Meant to only be here for 3 months but it's not looking like I'll ever get home" You shrug, leaning back against the sink. Beth's eyes shake slightly, whether it be her processing the information or just in shock of your situation - you're unsure.

"Oh" Beth processes "I'm so sorry, I didn't know I wouldn't have asked if I knew"

"It's okay Beth, you didn't know" You repeat her words, passing her a soft smile.

She sighs shakily, probably feeling a bit awkward for asking you something that was most likely a bad question. You don't blame her though, she's been holed up with her family and probably presuming other were doing the same.

The two of you stand in an awkward silence. The sound of the kitchen tap dripping with the left over water that had gotten stuck in the pipe echoes noisily as it adds to the weird tension filling the room.

“I’m gonna head outside.. See if my group needs any help” You point towards the window and Beth follows your gaze, nodding enthusiastically as she spews out a few awkward ‘Yep’s and ‘Go ahead!’.

You don’t think you’ve ever encountered a situation as awkward as that since the start of the apocalypse but the familiar feeling of relief after escaping the room washes over you like a tidal wave. You don’t even spare yourself a few extra seconds in the house as you find yourself barrelling out the front door and practically skipping down the rickety wooden steps that lead to the dollhouse-like outdoor patio.

You found yourself trudging towards the open land where Daryl seemed to isolate himself. After leaving the house with a strangely heavy emotional feeling resting on your chest, you tried to brush it off by offering your help to Lori and Carol but Shane rudely pushed you away after claiming they didn’t need your help. You’re not sure why he has a stick up his ass but you weren't dealing with it, so you turned on your heel to walk in the opposite direction only after throwing him a glowering look.

Daryl sits on a chopped log with his posture slumped over. As you walk towards him, the sounds of your footsteps become muffled by the piles of kicked up dirt and grass but you can tell by the twitch of his head that he could hear your approach.

“You ever gonna take that shower the Greene’s are offering ya?” You muse, peering down at Daryl who sits hunched on a thawing log as he sharpens some sturdy wood in arrows. He keeps at you through his eyelashes, not bothering to move his head from its downward angle. He grumbles something under his breath but you choose to ignore it.

“Never thought someone would refuse a shower in an apocalypse” Daryl waves his hand at you as if to tell you to ‘get lost’ but you know it's all in fairness. You hold back a laugh as you lean your weight on the back of your feet as you find yourself swaying slightly.

“Daryl! [Y/N]! C’mere!” Rick hollars and as you whip around to look at him, you can see through the distortion of the Georgian sun that he’s waving his arm at the two of you to hurry over to where he was standing. You can briefly make out the outline of who you presume to be Hershel and a few other people standing around the hood of a car.

“I’m busy” Daryl mutters but he still pulls himself up from the log and jogs over to where you’re making your way over. He’s quick to fall in line, jogging slightly with you as you hurry to Reach Rick. You slow slightly as you make out the figures, specifically Shane’s, which causes you to approach with a little more caution. Ever since he made it back to the house without Patricia’s husband, he had been acting weird. His sudden action of shaving his hair and acting as if he really cared for Otis at the make-shift funeral unsettled you slightly.

Hershel turns to you and Daryl, motioning to look at the map of the area that was spread out on the car as it was being held down with small rocks.

“Y’all were out in the woods last night?” He asks, prompting you to nod slowly.

“We’re gridding the area and searching in teams, alrigh’?” Rick asks rhetorically as you finally get a good glimpse at the map. The size of the land surrounding the farm makes you a little nervous as you take in the amount of terrains and elevations in the area alone. Even with the farm being away from the city, you didn’t expect for there to be so much land surrounding the land.

Hershel interjects, informing Rick that he can’t participate in the search due to the amount of blood he was giving the night before to his son. Rick glances at Hershel momentarily with what seems to be a million scenarios running through his mind, but he bites his tongue. He also tells Shane that he can’t participate in the search if he wishes for his ankle to heal from his expedition hours before, to which Shane glowers at the farmer.

“Well we were here - I think, so maybe we can circle around that area” You suggest as you circle around a patch of forest that resembles the night trek you and Daryl went on. You chew on your lip nervously as you watch the temperament of the group. You don’t want to risk anything in the possibility that you could lose your place on the land, especially knowing how Shane can be.

“I’m gonna head back to the creek” Daryl interjects, “Work my way from there”.

“I can still be useful” Shane argues “Drive up to the interstate, see if Sophia wondered back”

Rick sighs “All right, tomorrow then. We’ll start doing this right”. You nod, even if you feel that you should be out looking now, but waiting for more people to be able to search would be safer and allow the group to cover more land at the same time.

“That means we can’t have our people out there with just knives” Shane states and you have to refrain yourself from rolling your eyes. He glances around the group “We need the gun training we’ve been promised”

Andrea nods as she stays silent throughout the whole ordeal, but Hershel intervenes with the mutual agreement “I’d prefer you not carrying guns on my property. We’ve managed so far without turning this into an armed camp”

Shane swipes his hat off of his head and you guess it's his way of refraining himself from lashing out so easily. You don’t miss how his knuckles turn white as he scrunches the material between his hands “With all due respect, you get a crowd of those things wandering in here-”

“We’re guests here” Rick interrupts Shane with a pointed look. He turns to Hershel with a polite smile “This is your property and we will respect that.” Rick emphasises his point by setting his gun down on the hood of the car and Shane follows soon after with his lips caught between his teeth as he bites back any argument he has.

“First things first: set camp, find Sophia”

“I hate to be the one to ask but somebody’s got to” Shane begins and you find yourself looking around the small group to see if anyone else is feeling mutually as irritated with Shane’s behaviour as you are. Andrea looks down at the ground with her hands stuck in her pocket, and Daryl beside you fiddles with the strap of his crossbow with his jaw clenched. You’re not quite sure if he’s annoyed or it’s his resting face because at this point, it seems to be his day-to-day expression.

“What happens if we find her and she’s bit?” Shane asks “I think we should all be clear on how we handle that” He testifies.

“You do what has to be done” Rick answers quite solemnly as he looks to the ground. The thought of finding Carol’s daughter even mildly injured was not a pleasant thought, but to imagine her stumbling towards you with the dead expression which crosses the faces of those undead sends a startling shiver up your spine.

“And her mother? What do you tell her?” Maggie asks curiously with a concerned facial expression as she leans on the hood of the car to get a better look at Rick’s face.

“The truth” Andrea replies, causing Maggie to snap her head around to look at her. You don’t miss how Maggie studies Andrea, staring her up and down as if to quiz her integrity.

“I’ll gather and secure all the weapons. Make sure no one’s carrying, but I do request one rifleman on the lookout” Shane takes charge and you internally groan. You don’t trust that man with your weapons or the entirety of the firearms that the group have possession of. You most certainly won't be giving him your gun without a fight.

“Let it be Dale, he can be trusted” You add, looking at Hershel sincerely. He inhales deeply but nods, giving his permission that Dale can be allowed his weapon. You don’t care how backhanded your words sound, even right after Shane said he would confiscate all firearms on site. Shane already knows you don’t like him, so what would the surprise be that you wouldn’t let him have your weapons?

“Our people would feel safer and less inclined to carry a gun if someone was at least on lookout” Rick further explains “It’ll be extra protection for you and your girls too”

Hershel nods silently. You can tell her doesn’t want to allow it but his hesitant agreement makes you feel a little safer. If Shane was on lookout, you wouldn’t want to be staying on the farm.

You turn on your heel as you dander back to the RV.

“[Y/N], what’s going on?” Glenn asks as he steps out of the metal mobile. You let out a deep breath and allow your shoulders to relax, thanking the bug man upstairs that it was just Glenn who wanted you.

“Just talkin’ about the map of the area” You shrug, placing your hands in your pockets as you lean against the cool metal exterior of the RV “And that Shane wants to confiscate all of the firearms cause Hershel doesn’t want them on the farm”

“What?!” Glenn exclaims, and you have to place your hand over your mouth to silence his reaction.

“There’s no way I’m giving my guns to that… Him!” Glenn whispers sharply as he points his finger towards Shane. He seems to stop himself as he was about to call Shane a name which you could only fill in the blanks for in your own mind.

Psychopath? Weirdo? Creep? Murderer?

You sigh, slouching your posture slightly “Neither am I. Look, I’m just gonna hide my gun, I’ll tell him I lost it last night in the woods” You shrug, bringing an arm out to motion at Glenn “I’m sure you can think of somethin’”

Glenn stares at you with wide eyes, almost flabbergasted that you wouldn’t hide his gun for him “C’mon, I need to keep my gun!” He whines, moving around erratically as he physically shows his dissatisfaction with the ordeal.

“Give it to Dale! He’s the only one allowed a gun” You point towards the elderly man who chats happily with Carol towards the clothing lines. Glenn slouches, mirroring your beaten posture, but he nods anyway.

You can’t help but laugh a bit at his comical outburst but quickly pause it once you see Maggie approaching both you and Glenn.

“I heard you’re fast on your feet and know how to get in and out” Maggie squints as Glenn as she humorously sizes him up. You laugh lightly as you lean back against the RV and watch the interaction unravel.

Glenn is utterly hopeless with women.

He stares at her cluelessly, tilting his head with confusion.

“Got a pharmacy run, you in?” She asks.

“Uh-” Glenn stutters nervously and whips his head around to look at you either to ask for permission or telepathically ask you if it was a good idea to go. His concerned expression makes you chuckle lightly and you push yourself up from the RV to clasp a hand on his shoulder.

“Gotta forgive him Maggie, he gets scared around pretty women” You laugh as Glenn stills under your hand, but you walk away as he stutters nervously in an attempt to berate you for embarrassing him. As you walk away, you can hear Maggie laugh heartily which brings a smile to your own face. You’re glad Glenn’s got a crush, it's a change in scenery and it's something new to tease him about.

You don’t realise how long the smile stays on your face until Rick calls for you from the steps of the patio “What’s got you smilin’?” He asks curiously.

“Oh” You still, bringing a hand to your face to feel your cheeks only to meet the tension of them being pulled in a subtle smile. Relaxing your face feels painfully hard but you try to laugh it off “Just teasin’ Glenn about his crush on Maggie”

Rick laughs lightly as he wrings his sheriff hat between his hands. You’re guessing he’s just come out of the house after checking on Carl and the nerves of his situation caused Rick to feel some anxiety.

Boots crunching against the littered pebbles catches Rick’s attention and you follow his gaze to the dirt path that Daryl comes hurrying down. His crossbow and newly sharpened arrows are slung over his shoulder and you can hear the sound of the crossbow banging against his back before you even see it.

“Daryl” Rick calls out, causing Daryl to pause in his stride. Rick raises from the steps with a slight groan and you watch from the sidelines how his behaviour changes,

Daryk tutts “I’m better on my own” He shakes his head and continues walking away.

“Don’t worry I’ll be back before dark” He adds, almost as if he was teasing Rick for treating him like a child. Rick frowns slightly and jogs towards Daryl.“You okay on your own?” Rick asks curiously.

“We’ve got a base” He states “We can get this search properly organised now” Rick nods his head in your direction. You blink, looking between Rick and Daryl. Was Rick asking you to go look for Sophia with Daryl?

“You got a point or we jus’ chattin’?” Daryl questions assertively, glowering slightly at Rick. You’re not sure if he meant it though, as the golden rays from the morning sun disrupts your clear view of the redneck as he closes the gap between him and Rick.

“My point?” Rick echoes with raised eyebrows, “It lets you off the hook, you don’t owe us anything” He shrugs as if to casually remove the growing tension.

Daryl rolls his eyes “Well the plans fell through” He leaves as quickly as he opens his mouth which leaves Rick lost for words.

Rick turns to you, as if to ask you what was wrong with Daryl but you simply sigh. Daryl’s intentions were almost always unreadable, and you don’t think you’re for studying it.

#twd imagine #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon imagines #daryl dixon x reader #twd x reader #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon scenarios #daryl dixon x y/n #daryl dixon x you #twd fanfic #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl dixon series

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liptonsbabe · 4 years ago

Text

Colors [TBS]

Thomas Brodie Sangster x Fem! reader

Summary: Anxiety is a bitch. That’s the summary

Warnings: Mentions of anxiety.

A/N: Heya! i’m back with another Thomas imagine! Coloring is my personal way to confront anxiety the best as i can, if you have another way to help you relax pls tell me in the comments. That being said, this imagine is like a comfort one to me so yeah, i just want u to know that anxiety is a serious thing and i’m making this with all my respect for the anxiety fellas out there!

same note as ever, english not my mother language so pls tell me if something’s wrong

You were sitting at the table when Thomas came home from work. He scowled at you because you didn't notice his presence, nor did you notice the loud way his backpack fell to the floor near the entrance by accident. All your attention was on the thick book in front of you. Your hand clenched the pink color tightly while the rest were scattered across the table waiting to be used.

Thomas sighed. He knew what it meant to see you like that, with your back hunched, your fist tense on the page and the colored pencil being dragged deep. He walked slowly up to your place not wanting to interrupt you leaving you a small kiss on the top of your head.

He knew you well enough to understand that something had happened throughout the day to make your anxiety flare up again. You had been having good control of it weeks ago, but Thomas was aware that sometimes relapses could arise that left your spirits on the floor and a great desperation to do something to distract your mind for a while.

He found that coloring relaxed you, so he decided to give you coloring books for your last birthday. You remembered receiving a large package from the store with over twenty mandala coloring books. Each mandala was different. Animals, fairies, landscapes, food, flowers, unicorns and others you could no longer remember. Also at the bottom of the package was a large box of personalized colore pencils with your name on the base with silver melted on it. You rarely used them as you were afraid of wearing them out too much, so Thomas decided to give you a less ostentatious box, but one that you still loved.

That day you decided to take your animal coloring book. You chose a page with some savannah animals cause a cute giraffe was there, so you grabbed a color and started. Thomas sat next to you quietly watching you fill the page at every second. He didn't want to force you to talk, he would wait until you wanted to and then quietly discuss whatever was bothering you. Thomas picked up the brown color and set about coloring the page beside him. A baby lion was there.

"That's a nice drawing," he told you. You nodded without speak. Thomas concentrated on his work "Although the last time I checked, elephants didn't have pink ears."

"The whole mandala can't go one color" you pointed out as you filled in another square with blue "And my elephants are special"

"I understand. So, is it natural pink or is it dyed?"

"He's a bit vain, I think. He likes to be fashionable, so he dyes"

"Cute."

Thomas saw you smile a little as you tried to finish your elephant. He searched his mind for another topic to distract you as he picked up another color and had his baby lion dyed green.

"If you could go into space and have a choice of any planet to live on, which one would you go to?" you paused for a second thinking of an answer. Thomas silently celebrated having distracted you long enough for your mind to think about something other than what you were worried about. Then you continued to color.

"I wouldn't go to any."

"No?"

"No" you assured

"Why?"

"Because I'd rather live in a star. I like to think there's one big enough for me to settle in comfortably"

"Oh"

"Yes."

"Well, I like the idea. I think we could live comfortably on a star."

"You're not invited to come"

"Why not?"

"Cause it would be uniquely mine."

"I could visit you, I'd be a guest"

"How far away would your home be?"

"Hmmm, I don't know. I'd like to live on Saturn"

"Why?

"It has a ring. That would be fun. Then I could leave my house on Saturn and visit you on your star. Maybe you could rent me a room."

"That depends."

"On what?"

"On how generous the pay will be. Pheraps with that I could buy myself another star."

"You'll hurt my wallet."

"I'll murder it."

You both smiled. Thomas took your right hand resting on the table to give it a light squeeze that encouraged you to speak. You grimaced looking at your finished drawing.

"I...had a bad day."

"I know."

"Today things just didn't go the way I wanted them to. I couldn't even make myself a nice cup of tea in the morning."

"Next time I'll get it done for you before I leave."

"Then I turned on the washing machine and didn't pay attention to the wash cycle and one of my sweaters fell apart between the blades. I threw it in the trash, right after that I wanted to get some work done so I turned on the laptop and it showed a blue screen warning me that the battery was dying because I also didn't pay attention to it weeks ago when the battery overheated and I ended up here. It's silly, really, but I got too frustrated."

"Anything that makes you feel bad isn't silly" he said "You had an awful day, I understand."

"I'm sorry" you apologized. Thomas frowned

"What for?"

"For being so childish. For being so upset over such small things. For losing my peace that easily."

"Don't be silly, you don't need to apologize. Anxiety is a bitch, that's what happens. Don't be afraid to take a break to process your feelings. If you want to make pink elephants and green giraffes to feel better then do it. And if I can help with that then I will."

You smiled.

"Thank you. You spoil me too much."

"That's what I'm for. You know I'd do anything to see you happy. Literally anything, including agreeing to make you make me pay to visit your star."

You rolled your eyes.

"You can come for free."

Thomas kissed your cheek

"I'll bring my green baby lion with me."

#thomas sangster #thomas brodie sangster #newt the maze runner #tmr newt #newt imagine #Thomas Imagine #thomas brodie sangster imagine #thomas brodie sangster x oc #the maze runner #the maze runner cast #the maze runner imagine #the maze runner x reader

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caffeinated-cryptid · 4 years ago

Text

ashes, ashes.

10.8k | AO3 link | tags/tws: intrulogical, serial killer/deity of death au, lots of death (murder, mentions of a previous suicide attempt, and brief descriptions of animal death), injury, violence, swearing, morally grey characters, crime.

““You’re not supposed to be able to see me.” Logan blurted out with a start, eyes wide and looking at Remus like he had just killed a guy in front of him. Oh wait-

“Mamma always told me I was special.” Remus replied with a woozy grin, leaving back against the cool bricks of the alleyway. Seeing things that weren’t there was a new level of fucked-up for his brain, but hopefully that was just a side effect of hitting his head and not something he’d have to take pills for later. Either way, at least this spectre was pretty to look at. Trauma had its benefits.

“You think a deity of death is pretty?” Logan asked wryly, cutting through the stream of subconscious babble he’d accidentally spilled into the frigid night air. “I’d be flattered, if that didn’t sound like such a red flag.””

(aka: remus chases death like it's his favourite pastime, since it means he gets to see logan again. understandably, logan has some objections to this.)

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

Case 1: the man in the alley.

The first time Remus and Logan met, it was more or less a complete accident.

As a part-time warehouse operative slash freelance artist, Remus had a lot of free time between jobs, and one of the things he enjoyed doing most while waiting for his next gig to come around was spray-painting obscene images into the side of alleys.

His latest project was a 7-foot tall purple unicorn with generous proportions. Pretty tasteful by his standards, all things considered.

If nothing else, the piece of work would give passers-by a topic of conversation, and that was always something Remus aimed to inspire with his art. These topics, however, often happened to be the ‘why’ variety. Most commonly, the old classic (and his personal favourite): ‘why are you like this?’.

Regrettably, the evening passed pretty quickly with no curious pedestrians passing by his alley and starting up such a conversation. By the time Remus finished, it was past midnight and by now the only people around were the regular nightlife-- primarily the local college kids who had recently come home and were enjoying their break from classes, and adults like himself who were trying to chase away their loneliness with some other kind of high.

...Woo, and that’s enough depressing thoughts for tonight. Remus declared to himself. After all, he had a new piece to admire! Stepping back, he spent a moment taking in the completed artwork by the light of his phone’s torch before deciding it was as perfect as it could get. He’d come back later and get a picture during the daytime to show off to his friends, so for now he begun preparing to leave by packing his paint cans into his backpack.

It was when he had collected the last can of magenta from the ground that he felt something grab the back of his coat hood. Remus had no time to process the fact that someone had snuck into the alleyway before he was shoved against the same wall he'd painted his mural on, coming face-to-face with a hooded man waving a rather pathetic-looking pocket knife at him.

“Give me your money. Now.” The man demanded.

Remus blinked in delayed surprise. Usually he was the one being the creep in the alleyway. He had never expected to come across an actual creep. Heck, this situation felt like it was pulled straight out of an old PSA with how stereotypical it was.

“What?” He blurted out unthinkingly, because of that exact train of thought.

“You heard me! I want you to get your wallet and hand over everything you’ve got.”

What an unfortunate victim this man has chosen.

“You think I have any money to my name? I’m practically the starving artist every parent warns their kid about becoming.” Remus said with a huff of amusement.

“Don’t try to bullshit me!” The hand clutching the front of his coat tugged him forward before violently slamming him back against the bricks. The back of Remus’ head ricochetted off them roughly with the sudden movement, and the small grin he had been wearing quickly faded with flash of pain and the realization he may actually be in trouble.

“I saw the paint you’ve got in your bag,” The man continued over his dawning concern. “Somebody who’s broke wouldn’t have all that.”

Remus’ thoughts halted for a second. His bag…! He knew the paint can he was holding onto for dear life wouldn’t do much in the way of self-defense given that it was practically empty, but a whole bag of them? Hitting this guy with that much weight would make him think twice about trying to stab him, at least.

“Okay, okay. You got me, I’m rich as hell. Just let me get it, alright? My wallet's in there.”

The man gave him a skeptical look, but stepped back slightly, continuing to hold the weapon in his direction. “I know how to throw knives. Try to run and you’ll have a hole in your back quicker than an onset stroke.”

Yikes, and Remus thought he was bad at metaphors. He didn’t even need Virgil here to tell him that that made no sense. Still, he grinned placatingly. “Cross my heart and hope to die, stick a needle in my eye: I won’t run.”

Finally, bad-metaphor guy let down his guard and allowed Remus to side-step around him. He walked a few paces towards where he dropped his backpack in his initial shock, putting the magenta spray in before he picked it up by the straps. True to his word, he didn't run; instead he swung around on his heel, slamming the full force of his hardback sketchbooks and cans of spray paint into the face of the hooded man.

He instantly dropped his knife, falling backwards and clutching his nose as blood erupted from it. Under the low-lighting of the street lamp, Remus was transfixed for a second, feeling like he was in one of those gritty r-rated movies he watched with his babysitter as a kid. The moment was ruined when he realized that 1) the man was approaching again very quickly, and 2) he couldn’t get the momentum quick enough to swing his bag around and hit him a second time.

Before he knew it, Remus had accidentally let go of the makeshift weapon when he was tackled to the ground, wind completely knocked out of him as the two of them collided against cobblestone moistened with rain.

“You fucking bastard.” The guy hissed furiously. His voice was nasally now that his nose was crooked and broken-looking, and Remus almost wanted to poke fun of him for it until he felt two hands wrap around his throat and start to choke him. “‘Could’ve just made things easy, but now you’re gonna die with all the other trash.”

Why? Remus wanted to ask. Over the 7 dollars and 15 cents he had?

But as he tried to tear away the vice grip on his neck, he couldn’t find the voice to talk back, even though the seriousness of the situation was hitting him like a freight train. Maybe it was his own fault for escalating things instead of playing along. Go figure, he had overestimated his own abilities after years being the off-putting one; the person others thought they had to watch over their shoulder for. Either that, or maybe it was the fact that his wallet carried more sentimental value with it than monetary. It was small and made of orange ducktape, but it carried so many things that Remus wanted to protect; a photo of his family, one of Virgil's guitar picks, the ticket to the last Tenacious D he went to, and of course, the receipt for his first condom purchase.

His mind flashed to his friends and family, and he wondered how they’d feel about this; him dying because of some dumb robber in a dumb alleyway because he was painting his dumb artwork. That was hardly the kind of death one could look back on and regard with pride (Hell if it wasn't funny to imagine how everyone will react to the news, though). But as he focused on the face above him, he realized with some panic that the grip wasn’t loosening, even as he could feel his lungs burn and a near-soothing feeling telling him to just let go.

As a final act of desperation to save himself from becoming a wholly embarrassing funeral eulogy instead of having a rockstar’s death in his 40s like he always imagined for himself, he patted the ground frantically, looking for a loose rock or something to stop this with. That’s when he felt it; the slightly warm plastic handle of the knife the guy had been holding. Remus’ heart pounded as he realized what he needed to do, and he barely even considered the repercussions of the action before he was plunging the knife into the side of the guy’s neck.

Finally, the grip around his throat loosened as the guy gasped, his expression flickering back and forth between anger and shock. Remus ripped the knife away, inhaling air greedily when the sudden action caused the man to loosen his grip and move off of him, trying to cover the stab wound with his hands and failing.

Remus quickly scrambled back and pulled himself up the wall, watching and waiting for the guy to fall still. He did, after what felt like a few minutes, and Remus didn’t know whether to cry or laugh. He’d just killed a man. It was self-defence, but still… even the morbid thoughts he had over the years couldn't have prepared him for what it would have actually felt like to go through with any of it.

In that moment of pause, his injuries caught up with him as both his head and neck begun to ache. He was so disoriented that he barely even noticed the third person standing in the alley until they spoke up.

“Well. I didn’t see that coming.”

Remus snapped his head towards the source of the voice, and immediately regretted it when the hasty motion made him dizzy. The only reason he didn’t immediately jump into fight mode was because of the unusually casual way the voice had spoken. Beyond that, the figure he saw standing a short distance away didn’t really… look like a regular person. Beyond the odd formal clothing that had no discernable modern style to it and the shock of white hair that could only be achieved with hella bleach, his skin was a cool grey like a cadaver and he had a ghostly appearance to him; transparent and misty around the edges.

Definitely not the sort of thing Remus expected to see, but he was always one to accommodate the unexpected.

“...You and me both. My only goal for today was to draw unicorn porn.” Remus replied lightly, once he decided it wouldn't hurt to entertain whatever was currently happening.

The figure turned, startling at the sight of Remus staring directly at him.

“You’re not supposed to be able to see me.” He blurted out with wide eyes, looking at Remus like he had just killed a guy in front of him. Oh wait-

“You think a deity of death is pretty?” The man (deity???) asked wryly, cutting through the stream of subconscious babble he’d accidentally spilled into the frigid night air. “I’d be flattered, if that didn’t sound like such a red flag.”

"I can't believe my own brain is kinkshaming me." Remus whined, slipping down slightly as the worn-down soles of his boots lost their grip on the concrete for a second.

Death frowned, until a metaphorical lightbulb lit over his head. "Ah- you think you're hallucinating. Well, that's not an unfair assumption. Keep believing it, by all means."

"That doesn't sound like something a hallucination would say." Remus pointed out.

"Well then, I'll gladly prove my non-existence by disappearing." Death said as he took a step towards the body.

"Wait!" Remus called before he could figure out why. The ghostly figure stopped, looking at him with a raised eyebrow. Remus’ composure slipped as his eyes darted between the body and Death. "I...I need to know that this is real. That I'm not making this up. This feels like something I'd dream, but…"

His hand clenched around the knife, feeling the squelch of blood and the tremor of his hand. Despite the mixed signals he was currently getting on the state of his sanity, it felt solid and real, and Remus wasn’t sure what to make of that.

"Fuck. Please tell me! Am I being as messed up as usual or did I really just kill someone?"

Death’s eyes softened. "You did. This is real."

"Well shit. Okay…" Remus looked back at the body with a deep resignation. He wondered if he should do something about that. Probably not; that would look even more incriminating.

"...If it makes you feel better, he has hurt people in situations like this before, and completely unnecessarily; his only motive was to achieve a rush.”

That did make Remus feel better, actually.

"Good. I’m glad I killed a piece of shit and not someone down on their luck." Remus sighed, eyeing the spectral figure. "Speaking of, if this is real, then I guess that means you are too right?"

Any sympathy on Death's place quickly faded as he was caught out. "Erm-"

"It's cool." Remus leaned his head back again. "Talking to a cute ghost man? Sounds like a typical Thursday night for me."

Actually, this was the furthest thing from a typical Thursday night for Remus, but he didn’t want to admit that to the cute ghost man and risk looking uncool.

"You shouldn't get acquainted with it. Seeing me is hardly a good thing." Death replied, though his cheeks were distinctly a darker grey.

"Aww- don't sell yourself short. I love your work!" Remus waved away vaguely. He always had a strange relationship with death in a way that others didn’t; always the first to laugh at a funeral or smile instead of grieve. That was probably why he felt so comfortable right now. “Besides, we’ll all be food for the dirt and worms eventually, anyway. Why get uncomfortable with it?"

Death met his eyes again, seeming slightly more firm. “Perish those thoughts, it's hardly your time yet."

Remus pouted. "It's still inevitable, though. Don’t get me wrong, I’m happy I didn’t die today and got to meet you instead, but what’s so bad about something that’s going to happen either way?”

“I’m starting to think I was right by judging your attitude as a red flag.” Death muttered.

“But I'm right aren't I?” Remus prodded.

“Indeed.” Death begrudgingly conceded. “And do you know just how inevitable it is? Approximately 2 people die per second; 106 per minute. There have been 6435 events of armed conflict in the past year alone, and over 690 million people who are undernourished as we speak. Beyond that, there are even more people losing their lives to case-by-case natural events and incidents. So if you’d be so kind, do not be so eager to create more work for me.”

Remus absorbed that information, tilting his head. “Despite all that, you’re still here?”

“...I am.” Death agreed after a heavy pause, in the same manner most would admit their own defeat. “I’ll admit, I’m not used to… talking so much. It’s an unusual feeling, but it’s been pleasant, I suppose.”

“Death likes my company.” Remus laughed. “That’s gotta be saying something.”

Death rolled his eyes. “My name is Logan, not Death.”

“Huh. I’m Remus.” Remus replied, a little baffled. He didn’t expect a deity to have such a normal name.

“Remus ‘Tsukio’ Kaneshiro, I already know of you. We’ve met before.”

Remus’ bafflement only grew. “We have? I think I’d remember meeting someone like you.”

“You wouldn't; you were unconscious. It was after you overdosed on cold medicine. Thankfully your parents got you to the hospital on time before I could do my job, but I remember it being a close call.” Logan looked at him knowingly.

“...Oh.” Remus laughed nervously. He definitely remembered that. Finding out you could overdose on a lot of common household items was pretty dangerous for him to learn as a teenager, and he’d never forget how furious his entire family was with him for being so reckless. He never knew how to tell them that it wasn’t quite the accident they assumed it to be (needless to say, his adolescent years were pretty shitty to him, being the outsider in this town in more ways than one). Thankfully, the taste of cold medicine had become too repulsive for him to try anything like that again.

“...I am glad you’re alright. It’s always unfortunate when a life ends too soon.”

“Well…thanks. This has been pretty trippy, so I’m glad I met you too, Logan.”

Logan hummed and looked towards the end on the alleyway. “By the way, you should think about leaving soon. There’s a group of people approaching us.”

Shit, Remus had almost forgotten that he had just committed a crime. Given how awful this scene looked, there was a big chance he’d get thrown into jail for this if he got caught. But at the same time, he was almost hesitant to leave behind the spectre that had enchanted his heart within a few minutes, even if his mind was still trying to catch up with the overload of information.

“Why would you help me?” He asked quickly and somewhat suspiciously.

Just as Logan finished his business with the body, he looked at him over his shoulder with an almost sly expression. “You seem interesting, Remus. I’d hate for you to lose your life over someone so unworthy of one.”

And with that, Logan disappeared like a cloud of fog. Remus stood there transfixed, until he remembered Logan’s warnings and snatched up his bag, shoving the knife into his pocket and dashing into the night.

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

Case 2: the man who couldn't leave well enough alone.

The next time Remus and Logan met, it was slightly less of an accident, but fuck if the guy didn’t deserve it.

When Remus got home after the night he first saw Logan, he was more grateful than ever that he lived in such a run-down part of town. There were barely any security cameras to look out for, let alone people who were willing to be out during the early hours of the morning.

He was able to slip into his apartment complex unseen, avoiding his early-bird roommate long enough to wash away his crimes in the shower.

After that, he fell into his bed, completely unable to process everything that had just happened. So instead he fell asleep and left the deep thinking to his future self.

As expected, he needed plenty of time to collect his thoughts. First of all, he knew he hadn’t hallucinated the whole thing because after weeks and months of taking it as easy as possible, he hadn’t seen anything else as strange as a personification of death named Logan. Logan...what kind of name even was that? It felt like the name of a teacher, not something that should be as grim and macabre as Remus himself.

But that was the other thing; Remus couldn’t get the thought of Logan out of his head. He was like the angel who had come down to bless him in a moment of weakness, saving him from further misfortune. He knew he had little to no chance of seeing their deity again, but that didn’t stop him from plaguing his mind constantly.

Remus figured the best chance he’d probably get at seeing Logan again was to become involved with death once more. His mind immediately jumped to animals, the easiest targets; he pictured slipping into a farm late at night and slitting the throat of one of the sheep, going to a pet store and buying a hamster for the night before ‘accidentally’ leaving it in a box to suffocate, picking up a stray from the street and snapping its neck quickly. But just as soon as those thoughts came to him, he waved them away with a grimace. He wouldn’t be able to go through with any of that, even for Logan.

People had always talked about him like he was a serial killer in training. They would keep a wary eye when he picked up sharp objects and ask his brother if Remus had ever hurt one of their pets as kids, as if because he had unconventional ideas, he was a complete sadist towards the innocent. (And yes, perhaps he did have thoughts of that nature too, but they’d always fill him with sickness because he fucking loved the pet dogs they had as kids, damn it). In any case, he knew that going through with those ideas would only be proving those people right, that he was a dangerous individual who’d murder an innocent creature just for someone his brain maybe made up.

...Perhaps he was losing his mind after all. What was he doing, plotting out the best way to see Death? If anyone else could hear his thoughts, they’d think him half-mad or suicidal. It seemed like the best thing so do was to try to push this out of his mind, so eventually, that's what he did. He wasn’t so good at that usually; his mouth ran a mile a minute and the people who knew him would often say that his brain-mouth filter was non-existent. But this felt like something he’d like to keep for himself, especially when news of the murder made it onto the local news, presumed to be the outcome of ‘gang activity’ simply because the victim was successful and had a loving family and what else could explain this?

He decided to not think about making plans anymore, and he only thought about Logan when his mind was otherwise unoccupied. It stayed that way until the very next week when he found out about the situation with his roommate’s ex.

Remus didn’t have many people in the world who were willing to put up with him, but the one’s that did, he cherished dearly. So when Nadia, the woman he’d describe as belonging among the Valkyries (if only she could get past her deal of not wanting to hurt a fly), came to him looking uncharacteristically shaken and upset, Remus felt something in him snap.

She told Remus about how her ex-boyfriend was following her to her workplace and making threats on her life. He’d even begun showing up outside their apartment late at night in an attempt at intimidation, and that detail alone pissed him off considering he’d been too in his head to even notice.

“All because I decided I deserved better.” Nadia told him tearily. She was so strong usually, both physically and emotionally, so seeing her so close to crying felt like a punch to the gut. “I just want for him to be gone… But James would probably kill me before I could even file a restraining order.”

“What if he was gone?” Remus blurted out. “Hypothetically.”

Nadia blinked at him, wiping a stray tear. “Honestly? I think the world would be a better place. But that’s never going to happen.”

Remus nodded. “Right. Of course. Do you still have his number, by any chance?”

Remus’ plan was simple: Nadia would call her ex and ask him to come over to ‘reconcile’, and when he did, Remus would confront him. Scare him enough to stay away for good. He was pretty great at being intimidating when he wanted to that the both of them assumed it would work out.

Well, James came as planned. Their apartment complex had one massive security flaw in that anyone could get in without keys or permission, so the only clue Remus got that James was coming was the sound of footsteps bouncing off the walls of the stairwell. Remus stood upright and waited, until he saw the top of James’ head slowly ascending up the stairs, pausing on the second-top step.

“You’ve got to be shitting me.” James scoffed disbelievingly as Remus moved in front of him. “Did Nadia seriously send out the guard dog? What? Suddenly too afraid to talk for herself?”

Remus considered barking at him in response, but considering how James was way above the common creep in terms of persistence, he crossed his arms instead and glared steadily.

“Hell yeah she did. You should know why, given how much of a low-life asshole you’ve been acting all week. When are you going to give up the big guy act, huh? Curley called and he wants his complex back.”

James, in all of his 5-foot-no-thoughts glory, only squinted as the insult went over his head.

“...I knew I never fuckin’ liked you. Don’t get involved in our relationship, you little freak.” James tried to pass him, and Remus quickly blocked him, taking out the knife he’d stolen months ago.

“Take another step and this is going in your goddamn eye.” Remus raised his voice, confident that most of their neighbours were already out at work. “You’re not going near Nadia ever again, do you hear me?”

“Or what?! What’ll you do, Kaneshiro? Stab me? Put the toothpick away and step aside, for god’s sake. This is embarrassing, even for you.”

The two of them stood in a standstill, staring each other down as the echo from James’ exclamation faded out.

“...Fine.” Remus said finally. He slipped the knife back into his pocket, and James smirked smugly until Remus grabbed the front of his shirt instead. “It’ll be more fun to do this, anyway.”

With that he shoved James backwards, who quickly lost his footing and fell down the long and narrow flight of stairs. He tumbled for few moments, hitting each step, until he landed on the ground floor with a distant thump.

Remus stared after him, preparing for James to get up and start making a scene like he always did when he didn’t get his way. He didn’t.

Frowning, Remus descended the stairs, and as he drew closer to the slumped-over body, he noticed the puddle of blood around James’ head and the odd way he’d landed.

“Damn.” Remus commented under his breath. “Nadia’s going to kill me.”

He heard a sigh somewhere ahead of him, and fearing someone had walked in on his compromising position, Remus quickly glanced up, excuse at the ready.

“It was an accident-!” He exclaimed, before he realized it was Logan standing there, looking between James and Remus with a pinched expression.

“I know you pushed him, Remus. That’s not exactly what the law would define as an ‘accident’.”

For a second, Remus was starstruck (and opting to ignore the consequences of his actions). “You remember me.”

“Of course I do. I didn’t expect to see you again so soon, though.”

That almost sounded like an accusation, so Remus held his hands up defensively. “Hey, in my defence he was just asking to die. The dude's a dick!”

Logan sighed. “Regardless, you shouldn't go around killing people. Sooner or later you’ll get caught.”

“Well, I’m 1 for 1 so far! But if you’d rather me not get in trouble… Have any tips on how to cover this?” Remus joked, winking.

Logan frowned at him before he truly considered it, looking around at the scene thoughtfully. “...Double check to make sure you left no evidence. Move quickly, before anybody stumbles across the scene. And if you have time, plant something which will make this look more like an accident-- for instance, a spill on the stairs.”

Remus’ eyes widened. “I wasn’t expecting actual tips. Holy shit- okay.”

He went over to check the body, feeling his cheeks heat up. He absolutely should not be getting flustered over advice on how to cover up a murder, yet here he was.

“I feel like you shouldn’t be encouraging this.” Remus said jokingly as he smoothed out the creases on the front of James’ shirt. “Didn’t you say something about having more work to do? Who knows, you might be giving me a new hobby.”

Remus laughed. Logan didn’t. When he glanced up, the deity was frowning.

“Perhaps not. Forget what I said; I shouldn’t be interfering in matters like this. I shouldn’t even be appearing to you now.”

“Woah, woah, woah. What’s the matter? I thought you liked talking.” Remus hastily stood upright, furrowing his eyebrows.

“I- regardless of my personal feelings, I have a job to do. I can’t allow myself to become so partial over one human.” Logan replied, rubbing at the crease between his eyebrows.

“Why? What’s the worst that could happen?!” Remus argued.

“You could cheat death, for starters.”

“You already know how I feel about that.” Remus whined. “I’ll off myself when the time comes, if it’ll make you feel better.”

“Don’t-” Logan exclaimed, before he reigned himself back in. “Just. No. You’re supposed to go naturally. Neither you or I should interfere with that.”

Remus frowned. He wasn’t so sure he liked the thought of such a boring death. If anything, he wanted to go out in a blaze of glory. Otherwise, he’d be just another body no one would remember-- like loverboy over there.

“That means no more meetings like this.” Logan continued on.

“But what if I want to see you again?” Remus muttered. He looked across the room to Logan and found him wearing a similar downtrodden expression, until it grew serious.

“You’ll just have to deal with that, because we were never supposed to meet in the first place. I have a duty to fulfil and you have a life to live. Our paths are as parallel as can be.”

“This is bullshit, Logan.” Remus said, but he didn’t argue any further. Not when Logan walked around him to complete his business. Not when he prepared to leave, either.

“Don’t do this again.” Logan said finally, giving him a stern glare. “I mean it.”

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

Case 3: the woman in the streets.

The next time Remus and Logan met, Logan was starting to think Remus was making a habit of this after all.

In Remus’ defence, he totally wasn’t.

Logan’s parting words just wouldn’t leave his head. It was even worse than last time; the knowledge that he could kill anyone and get to see Logan again plagued him, and he found himself pulling away from his family and friends after the questioning from the police was over and done with.

They were all worried for him, but especially Nadia who knew exactly what he did and assumed it was because of the guilt that he was becoming uncharacteristically withdrawn. Although she was shocked at how things had escalated, she tried to apologize multiple times for letting Remus confront James, which he would always blow off. It wasn’t killing James that had gotten to him, not at all; in fact he was glad that prick was out of their hair. Rather, he grappled with the idea of never seeing Logan again, one of the few people who truly saw the worst sides of him and accepted them nonetheless.

He didn’t deal with it well.

The night of their next meeting, Remus was out drinking alone. It wasn’t something he was proud of, but he didn’t want to justify why he wanted to get absolutely wasted to his friends, so being sad and lonely for one night it was.

He had stumbled out of the bar late at night, beginning his unsteady trek home since he had accidentally spent too much money and couldn’t afford an uber to drive him back. Stepping onto the street a couple blocks from his apartment, everything was quiet until the person ahead of him crossed the road, just as a car sped around the corner and knocked them over with an awful crunch.

Remus stood in shock. He looked after the swerving car to get the licence plate, but it was already too late and they had hit the gas upon noticing him. Swearing, he stumbled over to the person left in the road.

“Shit- Are you alright? Of course not, you need an ambulance.” He was struggling to unlock his phone when he noticed how still the person-- a frail old woman-- was. It didn’t even look like she was taking breaths, though it was hard to tell through his swimming vision and the thick coat she was wearing.

With unsteady fingers, Remus pressed against the pulsepoint on her neck, and felt the moment her heartbeat stopped.

“Oh…”

And then he turned on his heel and threw up.

Death wasn’t supposed to bother him like this. He had always been proud of his ability to frighten others with his dismissive attitude towards life’s eventualities. But this was different. He had just watched the murder of a complete stranger right before his eyes, and there wasn't even anything he could do. What the fuck?

He didn’t even feel better when the person he’d been longing to see all night appeared right in front of him, arms crossed and ready to give a lecture.

“Again, Remus?! What did I tell you?! No more murder!” Logan threw his hands up at the sight of Remus next to the body, that was until he noticed the cause of death and Remus’ sickly appearance,

“I-I didn’t do anything this time, I swear. Logan I promised myself I wouldn’t.” He picked himself out of the gutter he had been puking into, trying to look at the deity, just so he could feel some sense of reassurance. “I thought I’d never see you again. ‘Thought I was okay with that, but I’m not. I missed you.”

Logan only stared at Remus when he began crying. He was a sappy emotional drunk when he got through the fun tipsy phase, sue him.

“...I apologize for yelling at you.” Logan said, awkwardly hovering his hand over Remus’ shoulder until it shuddered with a sob and accidentally brushed against him. Remus jolted at the cool touch, as did Logan, who quickly retreated his hand, eyes darting around worriedly.

“‘Always thought you’d be like mist.” Remus slurred, awestruck enough to forget his sadness. He reached forward to prod at Logan, who furrowed his eyebrows thoughtfully.

“I… Yes, that’s definitely strange.” Logan cleared his throat and straightened up. “In any case, you need to get off the street, report this incident, and go home. Being around so much death isn’t good for your mental health.”

“Maybe.” Remus sighed. “I quite like hanging around you, though.”

Logan pinched the bridge of his nose. “You’re drunk. You’re going to feel a lot worse about seeing me in the morning, I promise.”

“I never feel bad about seeing you.” Remus said, picking up his phone from where he’d dropped it. “I only feel bad that it’ll be a long time before I get the chance to see you again.”

“...I don’t get it.” Logan replied softly after a heavy pause. “You shouldn’t want to see me at all. I’m a bad omen. You’d only ever get to meet me in times of tragedy.”

“‘Bad omen’... And I thought Emo was dramatic.” Remus chuckled weakly. “You’re not so bad, Lo. You guide people to the end. You care for them even when you have so many people to watch over. You’re opinionated and you’re easily curious when things don’t go to plan. You don’t mind when I’m weird and you’re fun to talk to. I like you.”

Logan blinked rapidly with surprise, clutching his chest. “I wish we could be having this conversation away from the recently deceased. But... I suppose I feel the same way. I still don’t know how or why you can see me, but our conversations haven’t been unpleasant.”

“Death likes my company.” Remus said, smiling softly to himself. “...You’re right though. I should probably phone this in. I just wish I could remember the licence plate… Something like XQ... ugh.”

“XQR 460.” Logan supplied helpfully.

“That’s it!” Remus cheered, sloppily kissing Logan on the cheek. “Thanks babe!”

Logan floundered for a second as Remus begun calling an ambulance, struggling to regain composure. “I hope we don’t meet like this again soon. Three times over the span of a year is already too much.”

“I don’t know.” Remus looked at Logan slyly. “I’ve always had pretty bad luck.”

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

Case 4: the bad doctor.

The next time Remus and Logan meet, it’s completely coincidental and under less stressful circumstances for once.

Well, still stressful. Just for different reasons.

Roman was in the hospital because of some dumb motorcycle crash he got into, which near-gave Remus a heart attack when he heard about because he may often ask for death these days, but not like this. Never like this.

Anyway, he was more or less alive in the end. Just a broken leg and a lot of scrapes and bruises since he always refused to wear the proper protective clothing when he went riding (due to it ‘not fitting his aesthetic', apparently. Remus assumed it was pussy talk for ‘I don’t look badass enough to pull off leather’).

Remus had stopped by to visit, bringing some of the fancy name-brand crackers Roman liked since he kept complaining about how stale and awful the hospital’s ones were, and to say hello to Virgil while xe was on shift. The three of them even managed to sit down while Virgil was on break and catch up, too. Roman and Virgil seemed glad Remus was doing a bit better after his downward spiral a couple of weeks ago, even if they didn’t mention it.

After a few hours spent catching up and teasing one another, he decided to leave Roman to get some rest. His plans for that evening were to take a load off and perhaps call for some takeout with Nadia. Honest to God, he didn’t plan on looking for any trouble.

But still, trouble found him when he noticed Logan walking the halls of the hospital, following a doctor to the elevator.

Remus double-taked. Though he shouldn’t really be surprised to see Logan here in a place with so much death, it was still odd witnessing the cloaked figure walk around normal people, none of them noticing his presence.

Remus quickly jogged over. "Logan!" He hissed under his breath.

The deity startled (startled!) before turning to him, just like the doctor he was following.

"Do you need something?" The doctor said, raising an eyebrow.

"Uhhhh, nope! Just… getting into the elevator." Remus replied, stepping in and standing next to Logan.

"Why must you have such awful timing?" Logan sighed stressfully as the elevator doors slid shut. Remus looked at him, unable to verbally reply with the doctor standing right next to them. Fortunately, his unspoken request to elaborate was picked up on.

"This doctor is going down go the morgue. I was here to see a patient that died under his care, and I noticed how death seemed to latch onto him. I got curious."

Sounds like a bad doctor, if even a deity of death was interested in him. Heh, that probably said a lot about Remus too.

Logan elaborated for Remus’ misinterpreting amused expression. "Remus, he murders patients purposefully. You should not have gotten on this elevator."

...Oh. Remus looked past Logan to the doctor, who had noticed his glances.

"...Hm, aren't you supposed to be in your room? Broken leg, road burn, lacerations?" He questioned, eyes flicking down to where he assumed Remus must be injured.

"Nope! You’re thinking of my twin. I came to visit him today." Remus responded as chipper as he could manage, suddenly a lot more unnerved knowing that this apparently dangerous doctor knew about his brother.

"Ah! I see. I did wonder how you managed to grow a full moustache in a day." The man chuckled. "Twins… quite fascinating."

Uh oh spaghetti-os. "Yeah… people say we're like two unrelated people, we’re so different." Remus laughed dismissively. It didn't seem to bother the doctor.

"Interesting… Say, a partner of mine is conducting a study on the differences in the individual psychologies of monozygotic twins. I'm sure it would please her to get more data, if you'd be interested in participating. There would be monetary compensation for your time, of course."

"This is such an unethical form of recruitment. What kind of professional are you?" Logan argued in frustration. Remus almost burst into laughter on the spot from the bizarreness of the situation, but he somehow managed to turn it into an agreeable grin instead.

"Sounds good, doc." Remus said.

"What-?!" Logan exclaimed. Remus spared him a glance, hoping it would let him know he knew what he was doing. Logan didn't look placated in the slightest.

"Excellent! I'll pass the details onto your brother and we can arrange a meeting sometime this week.”

At that moment, the elevator stopped to let a few other people on. Remus took the opportunity to head out before they could reach the basement floor.

“See you later!” He called to both the Doctor and Logan.

“REMUS!”

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

Case 4.5: the dead doctor.

The next time they meet, Remus fully expects it.

Roman asks him over text why he volunteered them for a study, and Remus makes some vague excuse like ‘sexy doctor’. Thankfully, he bought it.

Before the date sent to them by the doctor, Remus decided to do his own research first. To do so, he contacted Virgil and asked for details on the man.

After copious amount of friendly jabs (like 'oooh Remus, I didn’t know tall, straight, and boring was your type'), Virgil told him his name and not much else, given that xe wasn't exactly close with the older staff member. That was fine; Remus used the information to find online profiles, where he found contact details and photos, where he found business accounts, where he found history.

After pulling a few more strings from people that owed him one, he managed to gain access to the vital records from the hospital. It didn’t take long to discover that Logan was right, there had been a spike in deaths since the doctor, a mister 'Stacey’, had begun working there. It was a mystery how no one had noticed the pattern honestly. Weren't doctors supposed to get their licences taken away after a certain number of incidents? As he begun looking through the files more closely however, he realized that the deaths were often chalked up to accidents; small things that could have been due to anything, from mistakes during operations, to the patients overdosing on their prescribed medication, to incidents days after they’ve been discharged.

As Remus closed his laptop, he begun feeling very glad he had impulsively accepted Stacey’s offer.

The meeting ended up being scheduled for Friday evening, and by the time it rolled around, Remus was fully prepared and waiting outside of the agreed location. He dialled Roman’s number, looking out to the empty parking lot and familiarizing himself with the location.

After a few rings, Roman picked up, sounding slightly agitated. “Yes, Captain Dookey?”

Remus snickered at the old nickname-- it was practically a relic from when they played pirates as children. Perhaps Roman was feeling sentimental after his accident.

“Aye aye first mate. You should know that I’m not gonna make it to the study. I already called Dr. Stacy to let him know we’re cancelling for today, so you can stay home.”

“Really Remus? I just got ready.”

“Yeah well, you’re supposed to be resting anyway. Unless you want to drop a visit by yourself that is, but Virgil told me he’s straight, soooo...”

He heard a retching sound on the other end of the line.

“No thanks.” A sigh. “I’ll see you tomorrow then, I guess.”

“Bye, ugly.”

“Later, Rat Bastard.”

“Rats are cute, that’s not an insult. Byeee~.” Remus quickly hung up, his grin quickly fading as he took in the apartment complex.

It didn’t look like the sort of space that would house an office, but Stacey didn’t look like the type to break the Hippocratic oath either, so perhaps the world wasn’t as straight-forward as it seemed.

Slipping his phone away, Remus buzzed the number he’d been given, and it wasn’t long before the good doctor himself came down to answer the door personally.

“Remus.” Stacey almost looked surprised to see him. “Is your brother not coming?”

“Oh, no.” Remus waved a hand. “I just got off the phone with him and he told me he’s running late. He said to get started without him.”

He received a charming smile. “That works just fine. Come on in.”

Stacey led him up the stairs to his apartment, and the whole time Remus felt the weight of the kitchen knife in his pocket. When they got to the ‘office’ (which was really just a living room with minimal furnishing), he offered him a drink.

“No thanks, I’m good.” Remus said, looking around. “...Seems pretty empty in here for an office.”

“Ah… Yes, unfortunately my colleague is having renovations done in her usual space, so we’ll have to collect our data here. I hope that doesn’t bother you.”

A fair enough explanation on the surface, and one his brother would probably accept if he was here, but Remus wasn’t nearly as trusting as Roman was. Nor was he as ignorant to the true purpose of this meeting.

“I see… That makes sense. Or at least it would, if I didn’t already know all about your dirty little secrets.”

Stacey glanced up from where he’d been looking for a pen. “...Pardon?”

Remus smiled back; a grin with all teeth. “You have quite a few skeletons in your closet, doc. Even for a fine medical professional like yourself.”

The doctor very carefully didn’t react to that. "My apologies, do you have the right person? To the best of my knowledge we've only spoken once."

"Yeah." Remus agreed. "And once is all it took. I found out about all those little accidents that follow you, doctor. Weird how many times your patients pass away from nicked veins and potassium chloride overdoses, hm?"

The only outward response Stacey gave was the clenching of his fists. Subtle, but Remus noticed it. "Be careful Mr. Kaneshiro, because that sounds an awfully lot like a baseless accusation. People sue for that, you know."

"I don't doubt it. But you already know it's not so baseless, don't you? You know exactly what I’m talking about, which is why you invited us here to a shady apartment late at night, no colleague in sight."

"Remus what the hell do you think you're doing?!" A familiar voice chimed from behind him.

Remus startled out of his focus, whipping his head around. "Logan?"

"Don't look at me, you ignoramus-! You met a serial killer alone after I told you to stay away?!"

"He knows my brother, I couldn't just-!"

Remus looked back at the doctor was closer now, looking down at him pitifully. "I see now. The talking to air, the erratic behaviour, the pushing your delusions onto others… you mustn't be well. It's alright, Mr. Kaneshiro, I could easily refer you to a mental health facility who will take care of you."

"Remus, you have to get out! Now!"

"I know!" He wasn’t a complete idiot, damn it! But he needed to get Stacey to confess or-

"Ah, perfect! If you wait here, I’ll go and make a call."

Remus stepped backwards, hand going to the knife in his pocket. He needed Stacey to confess, but if he didn’t-

Unfortunately, Stacey noticed his movement and quickly grabbed his left wrist, putting way too much pressure in his grip than was necessary.

"Ah-ah. I told you to stay put, didn't I? Come now, don't be difficult. I'm only trying to get you the help you need."

If he didnt-

"Let go of him!" Logan demanded to the man who couldn't hear him.

Stacey froze, feeling the cool touch of Death on his arm as Logan tried to pull him away, and at that moment Remus pulled his knife out and stabbed him in the chest; slipping the blade right between the ribs.

Red pooled around the knife, staining his crisp white shirt vividly. Stacey stared at the knife, and dug his nails into Remus’ wrist.

"Fucker." Remus yelped with pain, pulling the weapon back out.

Finally, Stacey let go and stumbled back, hitting the wall and sliding down to the floor. His expression didn't recover from the shock from when Logan touched him; he didn't even try to apply pressure to the wound as he bled out. He just sat there until the light left his eyes, and the only sound left in the room was Remus’ laboured breathing.

"I… shouldn't have done that." Logan muttered, eyeing the limp body.

"Done what? I'm the one that killed him. That was my backup plan all along." Remus replied numbly, looking at the scene he had caused.

"I gave him the touch of Death, it's- it's an omen. I'm not supposed to use it ever."

"Gee, I'm flattered. I promise murder was always on my brain though." Remus said as he took the tape recorder out of his pocket. No need for this anymore. He wanted to get a clip of Stacey saying something incriminating so that he could defame him and ruin his reputation, but well, him not being able to benefit from a reputation at all was the next best thing.

Logan watched him, taking in the claw marks across his wrist. "...Right. He scratched you, so remember to clean under his nails."

Despite everything, Remus smiled softly at the advice. "Aww, you really care about me, don't you?"

"I- no. Absolutely not. That’s absurd" Remus snickered as Logan flushed an adorable shade of paynes grey, which he hid by going to deal with the corrupt doctor’s soul.

"...Why did you show up, by the way? There isn't anyone dead in this apartment is there?" Remus realized belatedly, looking around the empty space.

"Ah… No. Admittedly, I've been keeping a closer eye on this town than I really should, and after what happened the other day, I figured I needed to be here when I noticed you two meeting… I probably shouldn’t have.” Logan conceded.

"Well, at least you can't say this wasn't a business visit." Remus giggled to himself, wiping the blood from his knife with a tissue. Maybe he was a little giddy from the endorphins of confronting a prolific serial killer, or perhaps it was the confirmation that Logan cared for him, but either way he felt really good right now, like he could take on the world.

Logan looked at him and sighed. "I should've known you'd be trouble. No more killing, Remus. This has to be the last time."

"Of course, pinky promise~."

"...I can see you crossing your fingers behind your back, you brat."

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

Case 5: the one who tried to get away.

The next time they met, Remus broke his pinky promise. No surprises there.

It was hardly even a promise to begin with, but for some reason Logan expected him to stick to it. Quite foolish, if you ask Remus, given that he now had a total of three murders under his belt, and stopping there almost felt like giving up.

Of course, he had to lay low after Stacey however. The hospital was holding a memorial for his death and Remus later found out that it was ruled a break in. (Made sense, since Remus took a few of his fancy cleaning products on the way out, as a treat to himself.)

It was a shame Stacey was being remembered so honourably, but he couldn't really do anything about that. At least he wasn't out in the world hurting more people.

But unfortunately for Remus, the ruling of Stacey’s murder didn’t stop the incident from trickling into his normal life, as Virgil and Roman seemed to grow suspicious of him. Virgil didn't bring up the topic to him directly, but xe begun acting sketchy when the two of them hung out (Though that could easily be wariness after having one of xyr co-workers be killed). Oppositely, Roman brought the topic up at the first chance possible.

"Dr. Stacey was murdered the night we were supposed to meet him." Roman commented the next day they were able to have lunch together, arms crossed confrontationally. "Funny that."

"Yeah. Sounds like we had some pretty good luck, if you ask me." Remus grinned.

"Wha- why are you smiling?! A man died!" His twin hissed at him. Under his breath, as to not alert the other tables.

Remus’ grin faded. "Listen Ro-bro, I didn't want to tell you this but our good doctor wasn't as kind as you think he is. I called you off that night to help you. Trust me. It’s better off that neither of us went through with that ‘study’."

Roman leaned back, looking unconvinced. "What were you doing instead, Remus?"

"...Huh?"

"You heard me. Where were you? What's your alibi?"

"You're not accusing your own flesh and blood of murder, are you?" Remus sipped his drink casually; ice coffee with as many pumps of peppermint syrup as the barista would allow.

"Just answer the question." Siiigh, what a tightass. How did they come out the same womb?

"I was meeting an old friend, for your information. Logan." Remus smiled to himself at the inside joke.

"Logan? You've never mentioned a Logan before." Roman raised his eyebrows.

Remus leaned back in his chair with a shrug, opting to look out the window instead. By doing so he missed the flash of complicated emotions that crossed his twin’s face at the dismissive gesture.

"I don't tell you everything about my life, brother dearest."

"Clearly…"

A week or two passed since his conversation with Roman, and during that time Remus didn't get to see Logan again once. That wasn't such a terrible thing, most people would assume, to not run into a deity of death, but Remus was so bored! He wanted to see his favourite death pal again, but no opportunities arose to do that, and nothing was striking his murder-fancy.

That was until the day he saw a familiar licence plate parked outside a shop.

Remus froze in his tracks, remembering the night he last saw that car.

A woman crossing the street, a body too still, a car speeding away with no remorse-

Remus had given the licence number to the police, but clearly they hadn't done anything about it. Or perhaps they'd tried and the asshole bought them off.

He growled at the idea, startling a passer-by who was crossing around him.

Thankfully, he didn't have to wait long before he found out who his ire belonged to. A familiar face left the shops and begun walking towards the car; Anton, a guy who had been a year above him back in high school. Remus’ memory of the man was vague; primarily made up of snapshots of cruelty and entitlement towards those around him.

He looked exactly the same, with his annoyingly polished appearance and ugly overpriced clothes. So he was right about the police being paid off, then. Typical.

He'd just have to do something about this himself.

“I suppose there’s no point in trying to convince you to stop this, is there?”

“I mean.” Remus begun, looking down at the body he had just finished suffocating and rubbing at his bruised arms. There was more of a struggle than tv had led him to believe. “I kinda had to do this one. What? Was I supposed to connect the dots on a murder and not stalk and kill the guy who got away unpunished?”

“Most people would say yes.” Logan groaned, in the sort of tone that said he already knew he was fighting a losing battle.

“We’re not like most people though, are we?” Remus grinned, fluttering his eyelashes.

“You’re most certainly not. I’m barely a person.” Logan replied with finality.

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

Case 6: the one who pushed their luck.

And then shortly after;

“Come on man, don’t do this.” The masked person pleaded, hanging onto the fire-escape for dear life. Literally.

Remus raised an eyebrow, making a show of contemplating the request. “Hmm, I don’t know. You did try to pull a gun on me.”

“It wasn’t loaded, jackass!”

Remus tutted and held his foot over the person’s clammy hands. They shook violently at the unspoken threat. “And now you’re gonna wake up the whole neighbourhood too? No consideration!”

His joking tone must have angered them, because they began struggling to hoist themself back up again, red in the face with strain. “I swear, when I get up there-”

Promptly losing his interest in hearing the rest of that threat, Remus stood on their fingers, causing them to let go of the fire-escape and plummet to the street below with a strangled yell.

“Whoopsie daisy.”

He leaned over the banister, whistling innocently as a familiar presence appeared next to him. Logan joined him in peering down at the body, eyebrow raised.

“At least this one was merely an accident?” He guessed by the cause of death, a twinge of hope in his voice.

“Nah, they’ve tried breaking in at least 3 times this year. It was getting annoying.”

As Logan scolded him for his recklessness, Remus decided not to comment on it when their topic of conversation turned back towards the casual banter they usually shared. The two of them stood on the fire escape until the sun was on the edge of the horizon and Remus had to dash back to his apartment to avoid being seen by the early-commuters.

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

Case 8: the innocent.

And then:

Remus curiously nudged the raccoon with the tip of his boot. He’d just stumbled upon it and it still looked fresh; given that he was standing by a busy road, it was no wonder what had happened.

He was making a mental note to come back and collect the bones at a later date, when Logan appeared in-front of him in a blink, looking completely unsurprised this time around.

Remus on the other hand startled before regaining his bearings and shooting the deity a smile. “Our paths are looking less parallel by the day huh, Psychopomp-ous?”

Logan raised his eyebrows appreciatively at the word play. “It appears so. It’s quite the pleasant surprise to find you not getting into trouble for once.”

“There’s always tomorrow.” Remus wiggled his eyebrows back. “That said, I really didn’t expect to see you. I was wondering for a while if you dealt with this kind of thing too, y’know.”

Logan looked down, seeming to really notice the raccoon for the first time. He nodded after a beat. ”She had a life too. My brother brought her into the world, and so I must escort her out.”

”Yeah? Anything of note happen?” Remus asked, eyebrows raised with genuine curiosity. He’d file away the latter half of Logan’s statement for later prodding.

”...She had a family. They stayed together under the porch of an old couple.”

“Ah, to be a racoon living under a porch.” Remus lamented dreamily. “I’m glad she got to live such a rich and fulfilling life before becoming road kill. I’m truly jealous.”

“In the wild, your lifespan would most likely be around 2–3 years as a raccoon.” Logan pointed out, attempting to contradict his idealistic tone.

“Exactly. The life.”

That earned a pinched expression from Logan that made Remus titter.

“Just messing with you, prim reaper~. Now, do you have any idea how long it’s going to take for her to decompose? I have a new piece of decor to make.”

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

Case 11: the matchbox.

Remus watched from afar as the house on Psyche Avenue burned. It was bright and brilliant, so of course the firefighters were already on the scene, trying to calm the fire and save the occupant inside.

They’d be much too late; the trafficker was already unconscious and likely burning to death, along with any evidence Remus might have left behind. It was the perfect crime.

Satisfied with today’s work, he took a drag of a cigarette, delighted when Logan appeared beside him instead of with the dirtbag who deserved to burn forever (and since it was a mystery whether he'd end up with such a fate, it only seemed fitting for Remus to play god and speed up the process.)

“Those kill, you know.” Logan said in greeting.

“That makes two of us.” Remus grinned sharply, even when Logan rolled his eyes and pinched out the end of his cigarette.

For the second time in a month, the two of them overlooked the sky together, illuminated by the amber blazes of the fire. It almost felt like a date.

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

Case 13: the one with bad luck.

He was back in the alley that had imprinted itself so clearly in his memory, knife buried in the chest of a would-be assailant. Remus was boredly watching the blood seep between the bricks when Logan finally appeared to deal with the body.

“You’re late!” Remus complained with a whine. “This guy’s practically cold already.”

“Apologies. There was a flash flood across the country, and it took more of my focus to handle than I would've liked."

Remus hummed. He thought he heard something about that on the news. Mother nature could be cruel indeed. Perhaps even worse than Remus himself.

“Anyone nearby?” He checked.

“Not in a half-mile radius, no. However, the police may be on their way.”

“Plenty of time, then.” Remus said as he pulled Logan down to place a kiss on the corner of his mouth.

It had been months since that first drunk sloppy kiss happened, and less time since it had become a regular greeting. Remus would never get tired of the feeling of cold skin against his lips. It was like kissing marble-- if marble had a sassy mouth and a sexy amount of knowledge.

Logan pulled back first, smudging away the trail of blood running from Remus' nostril. “Did you have any trouble?”

“Nah, you should see the other guy.”

That earned a laugh-- a quiet chime that made Remus’ heart flutter. “I see them. Good job, you’re getting rather skilled at that.”

“Why, thank you~.” Remus preened under the praise. “It only took a couple tries, but I think I finally got the technique down pat.”

“Hmm. Speaking of 'Pat', my brother doesn’t seem to like this much. He’s not unappreciative of your choices in target, although he appears to be rather disapproving on the amount of times I've been called to your side."

Logan didn't talk about his brother much: the deity of life. From what little Remus had learned from his prying and Logan’s own complaints, he seemed like a bit of a killjoy. He blew a raspberry in response.

"Tell Patton to stop making so many criminals and maybe I'll consider it."

The corner of Logan's lips quirked up. "I don't think I will, as humorous as I'm sure that would be. It doesn't quite work like that."

Remus shrugged, watching as Logan looked off to the side.

"...It seems I’m needed elsewhere."

”You can’t stay? We barely got to talk.” Remus said with a pout.

“Unfortunately so.” Logan turned to the body; what he should have been there for. It wasn’t long before his focus was back on Remus, though. “That said... It’s a busy night. Perhaps we’ll meet again sooner than expected.”

Remus’ frown tipped back into a smile as he watched Logan vanish. He then turned on his heel and retrieved his knife before walking off into the night. If he was going to make good on Logan’s expectations, he better get to work.

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

Case 0: the one who death followed.

It soon became an established pattern; Remus would come across someone shady, and he’d put together a detailed- or straight-forward- plot on how to get rid of them. By now his city must have noticed the string of deaths, but with such a random means and very little evidence, Remus was free to continue as he pleased.

In a sense, he was untouchable with Logan by his side, pointing out anything he left behind and giving warning for any potential witnesses. Especially when he gave up on persuading Remus away from this path. It's not like the moral argument could be made anymore; the city had seen a drastic decrease in crime once Remus had taken out a lot of big players (even if there was an air of fear that lingered in the back of everyone's minds, wondering if they'd be next up on the chopping block).

All in all, it was enough to make Remus cocky; perhaps even enough so to lead to his downfall. But how was he ever going to give up now? All his life he’d been hoping for some sort of excitement to fulfil him, and he finally found it in a surprise meeting with a deity of death. Death had gone from a distant longing to something familiar and welcome; something he could use to right wrongs and feel a sense of purpose with.

And as long as he was able to exchange a life for one more meeting with his beloved partner in crime, he would do his best to stay ahead of the game.

(No matter who was out there, trying to stop the two of them.)

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

Writing taglist: @just-perhaps @sashootkahoot @anxious-l0ser @illogical-immunity @overlad-of-the-snakes @varthandi @whisperinginthevoid @and-this-sword @creamiiteaa-xx

Deityfucker au taglist: @arodynamic-enby @its-the-usda-certified-trashman @overlad-of-the-snakes @aromanticwhore @haha-phrog @hetalianhufflepuff @emeryyleaf @winter-wandering @gaylotusthatexists @8bituin

#my writing #sanders sides #intrulogical #remus sanders #logan sanders #(others are mentioned)#deityfucker au #death tw #violence tw #crime tw #weapon tw #swearing tw #injury tw #(lots of warnings for this one. take care!)

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karimac · 3 years ago

Text

…in the details, Part 3

A/N: Warning for this series: 18+ audience (minors DNI), some cinematic level violence, some fluff and angst. Doubt that smut will be involved, but it may be implied. I’ll make sure that is noted clearly if it pops up.

All relationships, at this point anyway, are platonic.

Please do not repost or translate my work. Likes, comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

A bit about the OC Kari

Part 1

Part 2

All mistakes are my own.

Word count: 3,556

Well, that was not exactly the best idea, was it?

Dr. Darcy Lewis, unlike her colleague, Dr. Erik Selvig, was not a big fan nor an authority on any form of mythology. And the Irish history ask was a longshot at best.

So, here you were, in the coffee shop smack dab in the middle of Westview, talking to Dr. Lewis and getting nowhere fast.

“And, that’s not happening,” the astrophysicist grumbled as she set down her phone and took another sip of her beverage. It was some weirdly sweet concoction that looked like what humans thought rainbow-colored unicorn poop looked like. This world was not ready for what real magical beasts looked like. Most authors had not gotten all of that right in their books. No surprise there. No human really needed to see such things on a daily basis, and whoever had been the muses for those authors had covered up a lot.

“I take it Dr. Selvig has no clue on the Celtic Pantheon?” you asked as you sipped your very boring, light, non-sweet hot coffee. The barista probably wanted to laugh when you ordered it, but he did his best to stifle his snicker. “It was a very long reach on my part, Dr. Lewis. I’m sorry I roped you into this.”

“You can call me Darcy because you actually acknowledge my academic status,” the brunette said as she flipped her phone over again. “So, Thor is off in space. You don’t want me calling Falcon or his pal with the metal arm. Captain Marvel isn’t on your contact list. Ant Man and The Wasp? They can be sort of science geeks, right? Wait. Banner? Is he OK to call?”

Before you could open your mouth, Darcy was texting Banner off her own phone. “You know Bruce?”

“I met him at some meet and greet at MIT before the world went poof,” Darcy replied as she set her phone back down and seemed to be praying Banner would actually return her text. “Stark was there, too, but Banner was the one I got coffee with. Sweet guy, you know, even if he gets all green sometimes.”

As you sipped your coffee, you noticed a few people giving you odd looks. It made you very nervous. “Maybe we should finish up and get back on the road?” you asked Darcy as you quietly motioned toward the other patrons getting their daily fix of caffeine.

“Yeah, bubbe isn’t answering me anyway,” Darcy said as she picked up her phone and got up from her chair. By now there were several residents blocking the exit. “What is your problem? We paid. We’re busing our table. Then we’re leaving.”

“Are The Avengers going to hunt her down?” one woman in the back of the group asked as Darcy looked back toward you and mouthed the word “Help” before turning back to the crowd. The questioner was loud, but you couldn’t see her because of the big delivery man standing in front of her with a huge pile of Amazon packages. “Why did you come back?”

It was time to vamp. With an apparently faulty memory, this was going to be interesting.

“Before you all ask about what is going to happen regarding Wanda Maximoff, I want you all to know I have no authority to speak for The Avengers. I have never been a true member of the team. I helped them at a time when things were beyond bleak for this world. It was an honor and a privilege. But I am not a spokesperson. I am not a team leader.”

“Then why did you come here?” a man with glasses, holding a briefcase, asked from the line where he was waiting for his order. “Then and now?”

“I came the first time because I was looking for my friend. I was pulled into that nightmare just like you were. I wish I had been able to help her before any of this happened.”

“But you have powers, right? Couldn’t you have shut her down, hot stuff?” the first woman added as she moved to the front. Then you recognized her. Agatha Harkness. If Wanda kept her alive, there was a reason for it, and all the pain you had rising in your core had to be tamped down fast. Harkness had hurt Wanda, and that would have to be addressed one day. You were good at playing the long game.

“Taking her out in any sort of power stunt could have jeopardized your lives. I was not sure what she did to make it all happen, and I was not going to risk your lives. I’m sorry it wasn’t put to an end sooner. Now, if you will excuse us, we need to get to a meeting regarding the incident here,” you said as you and Darcy pushed through the crowd and back out to the street.

“OK, what was all that? Spin? Or are you remembering something?” Darcy asked as you got back into her car. You had left your rental on the outskirts of town. Better to travel as a unit until your business here was concluded.

“I remember a couple of things from that mess,” you said as you tried to keep your hands from shaking. “I remember Wanda and Vision’s sons. Billy and Tommy. I remember the house where I lived. Can we drive out to where Wanda had her house? Maybe that will help?”

Darcy pulled out of the parking space and made the lefts and rights to the lot where Wanda’s house had been. The one you were living in was in a lot right next to it. It was empty now, too, but you got out of the car anyway and stood in the center of the patch of dirt. You closed your eyes and held your breath as you tried to piece together what had happened. And then you started to cry as you fell to your knees.

“Whoa, slow down,” Darcy said as she ran and knelt beside you. “What did you see?”

“It’s weird. Wanda came over one day and more or less apologized to me because she couldn’t give me my real happy ending. I can show you, if you’ll let me…”

“Go into my mind?” Darcy protested before you could wave her off the idea. “No Vulcan mind melds for me today, thanks.”

“No, I carry this mirror, and you can see memories in it. Trust me, I do not use telepathy as a first line of anything. I tried it once, to help a friend, but it just caused more problems,” you groaned as you pulled the mirror out of your backpack. You waved your hand over it, and Darcy could now see what had happened with Wanda.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t find them and bring them here,” the Sokovian said quietly as she walked around the 1980s version of what was your living room. It was way too pastel for your liking, but the hints of fuchsia, orchid and teal in the overall cream and light gray design weren’t so bad. You had a couple of cats there with you. One was an orange tabby with a penchant for eating tuna at any given moment. He was warm and affectionate and just a ray of sunshine dressed in fur. The other was as white as the driven snow, but his own cuddly disposition came through. He was the one who would leave you weird gifts every morning. Rocks, feathers, and yes, the occasional dead mouse would be at the foot of your bed each sunrise. You’d find out at the end of that nightmare that the cats were only constructs of Wanda’s chaos magic.

“I know you miss the three of them,” she continued as she pointed to a framed picture of Steve, Bucky and Sam, all decked out in appropriate 1980s clothes that made them look like they ran away from some cop drama. “It’s probably better that there aren’t too many Avengers here anyway. Vis is getting concerned. And this way, well, no one needs to know which one you would have chosen. I know. You know. So you can always talk to me. Like we did before. But I gave you the wedding ring to make sure no one came on to you. Just in case I can get him here soon.”

As you showed Darcy the memory, a tiny part of you was screaming that this whole scenario seemed wrong. You watched Wanda’s crimson glow float around you as she spoke. You vaguely remembered The Morrigan trying to kick some sense back into your addled brain, but Wanda’s world was much too enticing to let your other self come to the fore. You wanted the damned happily ever after with the husband and the house and everything that meant in the modern American ethos. You had rationalized things for years in such a way that you’d never let yourself get it. That was why no one was here to hug you at night like Wanda had Vision. Maybe that fact alone was enough to crack Wanda’s hold on you a bit more than she realized?

But you also had to admit that you wanted to be there for Wanda in case things went south. That much was clear from the moment you showed up in Westview the first time.

“How come you didn’t just zap her? Fight back?” Darcy asked as you fully shifted to the present day and paused the memory.

“Because she wasn’t wrong. I did miss Bucky, Steve and Sam. I missed Banner, too, because they were, in the end, the ones still here that cared if I lived or died. And Spider-Man. Which is random and weird, but he did. And frankly, what I said in the coffee shop was true. I had no idea what my powers would do to her spell. I could have leveled the town. That was not an option.”

“So, that Agatha woman…” Darcy started to say and then stopped. “Wait. That was her? In the coffee shop? That was why you were acting so weird?”

“Yeah. Wanda could have killed her or taken Agatha away with her to imprison her. She didn’t. After what Agatha tried to do to Wanda, to try and take her powers, Wanda had every right to finish her off. But Wanda doesn’t likely know all that yet. There are rules set up from ages ago. Things witches can and can’t do to each other under specific circumstances. So Wanda left her trapped here—for now anyway. But, whatever happened with them, it affected me, too. I got hit with stray magic blasts. I’m betting it messed up my powers in ways I didn’t realize. And maybe my memories as well.”

As Darcy knelt there, her phone finally chimed. It was some weird little R2-D2 chirpy beep, and she looked elated as she showed you the message. “Seems Bruce still cares if you are OK or not. I don’t think bringing him here is such a great idea…”

“Did anyone send him data about what happened here?” you asked as you got to your feet, pocketing some of the dirt from the lot before you stood up. “Air and soil samples? Readings from the residents?”

“I can get them for him. Trust me, Jimmy Woo and Monica Rambeau would be more than happy to help. I’m glad that loon Hayward seems to have gone into hiding or was hauled away to The Raft,” Darcy noted as she checked her phone again. “Seems the doc is working out of a Stark lab here in Jersey. Road trip?”

You really didn’t want to go see Bruce. You had no idea how you’d explain any of what you did to him.

++++++++++

You rehearsed what you planned to tell Bruce a million times in your mind as Darcy drove along the Garden State Parkway to a place called Woodcliff Lake. Stark Industries did indeed have a lab there, and it made you want to scream as you walked into the facility. You did not need yet another reminder that you could not save Tony Stark’s life at the end of that final battle with Thanos. That was part of why you were in this mess in the first place. It was also why you had a screaming fight with Stephen Strange, but no one else knew about that yet.

“Dr. Banner? We’re here!” Darcy yelled as you walked toward what had to be the research wing. The lack of security in the place was a bit disturbing, but then again, there were probably booby traps built into every square inch of the place. You could just hear Tony now as you got closer to the lab area. It would likely have been close to the speech you got the first time he talked to you at the compound.

“Hey! Lucky Charms! Don’t touch any of the expensive stuff. I guess that means don’t touch anything. I still have no idea why you are hanging around the team except that Steve wants you here for some reason. Maybe you’re tied to…his friend…and I just don’t want to face that? Still have issues with all of that, even if the man is dead. Pepper and Morgan said I should be nice to you, but I’m not quite there yet after what happened in Berlin. They are better people than I’ll ever be.”

“Earth to Kari?” you finally heard Bruce say as he waved his massive green hand in front of your face. Then he realized why you were likely spacing out. "Dr. Lewis, can we have a minute?”

“You can call me Darcy, if I can call you Bruce?” Lewis said as Banner nodded to her. “Cool. I’ll go find the little scientist’s room and be right back,” she added as she left the lab.

“So,” Bruce started as he pointed you toward a set of chairs at one side of the lab, “Darcy filled me in via text. I have no idea what happened with Wanda, and I know none of us know where she is. I did call a friend who wants to help,” he noted as a swirling circle of yellow light formed near the window that looked out over the parking lot. “I figured you’d listen to him, and he knows more about this stuff than I do.”

“What did you do?” Wong shouted as he exited the portal. “You usually listen to reason. Why did you go after Wanda all alone?”

“I went to help Wanda. She was hurting. She watched Vision die twice. She lost Pietro. I can relate to all that very, very well. My twin Branan died in front of my eyes, too, and I’ve buried two husbands. Both died in battle. I just wanted her to know she wasn’t alone. But she…she hit all my vulnerable points. And she was under attack at the same time. From a woman named Agatha Harkness and from the director of SWORD. Some martinet named Hayward. He built another Vision. I think Hayward was using Wanda’s powers to bring him to life. Darcy is going to check in with some of the people who worked with her to get you more intel, Bruce.”

“Another version of Vision? Great,” Bruce muttered as he looked over at Wong. “As for this Harkness person…”

“The name rings very small bells, so I’ll need to do some research,” Wong noted as you bumped your left fist against your forehead. “What?”

“Harkness is a succubus. And she is old. Not as old as I am, but she is still a good 400 years old, give or take a day. She apparently survived the Salem Witch Trials. Wanda spelled her and left her in Westview. I think she is, at least in small ways, aware that her world is all wrong. I didn’t want to press it when I saw her in that coffee shop. We do not need an angry succubus flying around. Wong, they got into an aerial battle, and Wanda was using sigils, runes, whatever you want to call them, to focus her power. I think she picked that up from good old Aggie. I never showed her anything like that on purpose. I always suspected she had magic in her bones, but it wasn’t my place to start that fire. The bigger issue is that Wanda conjured up two children while she was there. She created cats for me, so anything is possible. I got knocked out by the end of the fight, so I have no idea what exactly happened in the end other than Wanda running off and Agatha being left behind for some reason.”

“And?” Wong asked as he started to look you up and down. “You did a spell? And it went bad? Your aura is all messed up.”

“I…I tried to do a spell so The Avengers would think of me less and less, and then eventually I’d just be a fleeting memory. I felt walking away in the dead of night, the thing I usually do when I am leaving town, would not be good enough. The spell got botched, and now I’m connected in some fashion to Sam Wilson and Bucky Barnes. Looking back at it, I spent more time with them in the days leading up to my departure. Steve and Bruce were there the day I left, and so were Sam and Bucky. And…I’m carrying a lot of guilt about Bucky after his accident in 1943.”

“All this on top of the magical circus Wanda made? Are you insane?” Wong yelled as he started to pace.

“And the fight I had with Stephen on the day of the battle. Yeah, I guess I am insane,” you replied as Wong threw up his hands. Bruce had gotten extremely quiet, and that was not a good thing.

“Before we get to dissecting your spell, Kari, was this because of what Tony said? About you not being an Avenger because you were…?”

“Unstable? Yes. And the fact I could not bring anyone back from the grave, especially during that last battle. And the fact about who killed his parents. Buck did while under Hydra control. Steve found out and never told Tony. I ran into The Winter Soldier a few times over the decades, so there was the chance I could have prevented their deaths, too. Tony really had no reason to ask me to join the band.”

“Once we get your spell problem sorted, then we will address this, too,” Bruce said as he looked toward Wong and shook his head. “I loved Tony like a brother, but he was wrong…”

You winced a few times as you tried to listen to Bruce and Wong, now joined once again by Darcy, as they tried to figure out how to fix or reverse that spell, and they hashed out what might have happened to you during that first trip to Westview. You were really trying to focus on their questions, but you felt a tug that no one else could ever have possibly felt.

“Baltimore,” you mumbled as you pulled out your cellphone and debated texting the person you felt tugging at that damned invisible string. No. That would have ended badly, especially since your original spell had gone haywire.

“Bucky Barnes was arrested?” Darcy asked as she showed you her phone alert. “I bet he punched that new fake Cap in the nose. Sorry, but that guy looks like he has no clue. I saw him on Good Morning America. Total cheese fest.”

“Wait. What?” you asked as you took her phone. “Sam didn’t keep the shield? I just hope Bucky didn’t punch Sam and wind up in jail for that!” You gave Darcy back her phone and looked at yours again. It was buzzing. “Anyone here know who the hell is Christina Raynor?” you asked the trio in front of you. No one had any clue about that. You hit the speaker button as you answered the call.

“Hello? Ms. MacOrish. I’m James Barnes’ therapist, Christina Raynor. Sam Wilson said I should give you a call and ask you to join us in Baltimore. As quickly as possible, if you can. I don’t think Mr. Barnes wants to spend the night in a holding cell.”

“Oh no, you are not going to Baltimore,” Wong said as he crossed his arms and got a stern look on his face. “Not while your head is all over the place. You could portal to Baltimore in the 1800s for all you know. You could end up eating lunch with Lord Baltimore in the 1700s. You really shouldn’t do this.”

“Wong, what better place for me to go than to see a therapist?” you said with a smirk as you opened your own portal, this one a lovely shade of emerald green, that went to where Raynor was waiting for you—outside an interrogation room at the city jail.

“Mr. Wilson said you’d be fast. He did not tell me you were one of the powered class,” Raynor said as you went through the portal, looking back to wave briefly as you heard Darcy’s last comment.

“What about your rental car?”

#avengers x oc #bucky barnes x oc #sam wilson x oc #bruce banner x oc #wong x oc #darcy lewis x oc #avengers #bucky barnes #sam wilson #bruce banner #wong mcu #darcy lewis #my mcu oc #my ocs are my babies #my oc writing

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nautiscarader · 3 years ago

Text

Nautiscarader’s Wendip Week day 3: Prank War

geez, this one took a while. I apologise, and let’s hope next one will arrive faster

(ao3)

============

Someone standing outside of The Mystery Shack might have thought that the living room contained a very predictable lighting bug, or at least that someone inside was broadcasting a rather boring Morse code message using light signals.

In reality, it was just Wendy and Dipper, slouched on the sofa, surfing TV channels, giving each of them at most three seconds to entertain their bored minds. So far, none of them stood up to the challenge.

But as Wendy continued the only physical activity she had the energy for, i.e. pressing one button, something finally caught their attention.

- "What's up everyone? It's your boy, the Prankster Prancer!"

A loud, obnoxious, blonde man in his twenties, wearing spiky, gelled hair rode into the shot on a fake unicorn, face-hugged the camera, filling the wide-angle lens and made both Dipper and Wendy jump in their seats as loud horn noise shook the air around them.

- Wait, I thought this guy was only on the internet! - Wendy raised her brow - Did he escape to the real world?! - Come on, who in the right mind would give him a show? - "So, first of all, thanks to our station, The Cheese Network, for giving me the chance to entertain you guys..."

Dipper and Wendy groaned in collective understanding.

- "...and for giving us some cheese to pay for our last week's prank!"

The screen dimmed and the camera changed to an aerial shot, containing not only fires and flood, but also several military helicopters.

- "So last time we did some EPIC prank during the gender reveal party and we've made a hole in the ozone hole!"

The man made extra effort to extend every vowel in the last word, to an equally obnoxious collection of sound effects.

- Wow. That looks... bad. Even by our standards. - Wendy watched the footage. - Yeah. Good thing this dude stays away from us. - "And now it's time to reveal the next place for our EPIC PRANK!"

The man took a baseball bat and unceremoniously smashed the unicorn doll in half, and stuck his hand in the fake guts, revealing an envelope.

- "And this one is a suggestion from my top commentator on-line, that girl leaves comments under every single one of my videos, so I could not ignore her request".

The envelope was opened, and suddenly, a girl's voice began reading it.

- "Dear Prankster Prancer. I love your videos, and how creative your calamity can be..." - Wait a minute - Dipper sat up, as his eyes widened in horror - Is that- - "My name is Mabel Pines, and I am staying in a small town called Gravity Falls, in Oregon...".

Dipper and Wendy looked at each other and understood each other at once.

- Barricade the doors!

But it was too late. As Dipper ran towards the lobby, the door were smashed to the ground, seemingly under the power of the air horns, and flooded the Shack with lights. The same blonde man walked inside, as if he owned the place, leading with him Mabel Pines.

- What's up birches? Is that how you call people living in the middle of a forest? - he shoved his face to the camera again. - More like, in the middle of nowhere! - Mabel added, high-five'ing him - Thankfully, me and my Prankster Protégé are gonna rock this place! - he shouted.

Dipper Pines stood up and cleaned himself from the dust and debris, watching as the two rock their heads to some aggressive tune.

- Hold on a minute! Mabel, why did you invite him here? If anything, there's too much going around in here! - Ugh, this is my little brother, Dipper. - Mabel rolled her eyes - I'm-I'm not little! - Dipper stomped in place - We're twins!

Somewhere behind him, Wendy snickered.

- What, you just look adorable when you're angry.

Dipper turned back and stormed towards his sister.

- Mabel, do you have amnesia or something? Gravity Falls is full of amazing things! We've been on treasure hunts, found all sorts of monsters in every lake, glade and a cave... You wanted to date a zombie on out first day here! - Yeah, sure, kid, as if I could just walk into a forest and find a dead body... - the Prankster took a sip of soda, looking somewhat nervously. - Mabel, we've seen living dinosaurs here! - Yeah, like I can see one now!

The Prankster pointed to the kitchen and very confused Grunkle Stan in his pajamas.

- What in the DMV is going on here? - Check this out, a living fossil!

The Prankster jumped towards Grunkle Stan and unceremoniously took a selfie with him.

- Oh no, my eyes! The light is coming towards me instead of the other way around!

Stan cried when flash of light blinded him, and with a sleigh of hand, the blonde man undid his belt, causing Stan to nearly trip and fall, if it wasn't for Wendy.

- Hey, you! You're not a prankster, you're a jerk!

At the sound of those words, the man stopped laughing and turned his attention, as well as cameras, towards Wendy.

- What's that? We've got ourselves a HATER!

An air horn was about to blow her hat off, but Wendy swiftly grabbed it and twisted it.

- Yeah, that's what I've said, you're a jerk. I like pranking people, but not to hurt them. - And watchu gonna do, leave a mean comment? - No, we're gonna prank you. - Wendy reached and brought Dipper towards her. - Cos we've done some pranking together ourselves! - Like what? - Like... when we've made our friend think his inflatable tube could talk!

The Prankster shot them with a dead stare.

- You know what, I don't even have time to play the "wah-wah" soundbite. But if you want to lose, your call. Tomorrow, we're gonna get an EPIC PRANK-OFF!

And he shot a pose in front of the camera.

- Right, now tell me where's someplace to eat. And they better have unlimited refills. - Lazy Susan is neat. And there's water tower nearby...

And with that, he and Mabel walked off, leaving the small destruction behind them.

- Wendy! - Dipper turned at once towards her - Are you crazy? He has entire film crew! And money! And very little empathy! He's gonna plough through us! - Chill out, man, we're gonna trick him, one way or another.

And she gently smacked the edge of his hat.

- Er, I know you guys like to babble all the time, but I still can't get up. - Grunkle Stan grumbled from the floor.

=============

The next day, Wendy woke up at the break of dawn with unbridled optimism. Dipper less so, and he was a bit nervous when Wendy gathered him and her crew in the small lumberjack shack in the woods to explain the plan of action.

- So, any questions? - she asked

At the same time, every teenager in the small room raised hands.

- So, how does exactly the can of whipped cream is supposed to work with the rake? - Tambry asked - And what do we have to do with the rat-shaped balloons? - Thompson asked shyly. - And can't we just... punch him? - Robbie suggested, mimicking the action. - Ugh, you guys!

Wendy groaned and hid her face in her hands. hearing the murmurs of doubt across the room, Dipper quickly stood up and continued.

- Guys, this jerk is giving us, pranksters, a bad name! We gotta prank him in a way that shows we are better... Because we can do better!

He watched as faces of the older teenagers brighten with his speech. Several of them even smiled.

- Plus he could, like, sue us for millions of dollars, so we gotta stay clean.

With newly gained optimism, the gang rushed to Thompson's van and readied themselves for the prank.

- Thanks, man, for giving me a hand. - Wendy suddenly patted Dipper's back. - Oh, no-no problem. - Dipper spoke, wondering if she noticed his blush.

=========

- Alright, we're all in places.

Wendy spoke to her phone, and observed the places, leaning from behind the wall. Her eyes moved from Robbie, hidden in the abandoned ice-cream stall, to Thompson, on top of a tree, to Tambry, pretending to read a large newspaper, and finally, to Dipper, holding a bag of provisions.

- We-Wendy, I'm not sure if this is gonna work. - Now!

She commanded, as Prankster walked nonchalantly out of the store. He thre away the half-eaten sandwich he just bought and was about to walk into the string that would have activate the whipped cream... if he didn't make a sudden jump.

He then threw something into the stall.

- Oh, crap, it's a grenade!

Robbie stormed out, tripping on the same wire he helped setting up, which resulted in his black hair covered in white goo and sprinkles.

Tambry was supposed attack next, but Prankester was already next to her. He took a bucket of soapy water and dumped it over her, destroying her diguise that covered her pruple hair.

For Thompson, he didn't even have to do much - he threw a mouse toy into the air, and listened how the boy tumbles down, shrieking.

And finally, he took something big and colourful out of his backpack and tossed it onto the street, watching as Dipper and Wendy rush towards it.

- Limited edition Giraffeoala!

They realised the two were after it when it was too late. Their heads collided with each other, just as the elusive plushie was yanked from their hands, back into his bag.

- Seriously, guys? You wanted to outsmart me? There like five of you and you couldn't do it. - Ha! That was a good one! - Mabel emerged from behind his back and did another high-five. - But I couldn't do it without you. - he pointed at her. - Me? But I didn't do anything... - Of course you did.

The Prankster lowered his sunglasses.

- Last evening at that stupid bar. You told me you were friends with everyone here. You told me how one of them likes gloomy, dark places. Like another one is afraid of mice. Like another one never looks away from her phone...

Mabel's ecstatic, radiant smile faded with each word the Prankster spoke, and her eyes, widened from excitation began to fill with tears.

- And, well, you told me what these two dorks are obsessed about... amongst other things. - Mabel! - Wendy and Dipper cried at the same time. - But-But I didn't... - Aw, really? You feel sad for them? LAME. - he pushed her aside and waved for his crew that followed him anyway.

For quite a while, all the small town could hear was Mabel Pines sobbing, until someone closed his arms around her.

- There, there, sis. - Dipper spoke quietly. - I guess you see why were so angry now. - I-I didn't know he would...

Dipper hugged her, letting her cry as much as she wants into his vest.

- It's not your fault, Mabel. - Wendy added, taking a knee and gently patting her. - But-But it is! - Well... Kinda... - Robbie added, and received a cold, piercing stare from Wendy. - Jerks like that like to... use people. And they know that the best ones are those, who are most trusting and kind.

Mabel's sniffing stopped, as Wendy continued.

- But you know what? - Dipper spoke suddenly - I think I got an idea...

He let go of his sister rushed to the Prankster, sitting on one of the toy unicorns, tossing quarter after quarter, while two children in queue began to tear up.

- Hey, you! - Ugh, you again, twerp. What, want me to reveal more secrets about you and your stupid hobbies? Or, like, who is your biggest crush after a toy plushie from the 90s?

Dipper's face reddened, but he remained unperturbed.

- We're not done yet. Tomorrow we're gonna prank you for good. Double or nothing! - Ugh, sure, fine. - the Prankster didn't even look at him - It's not like I can do anything until my lawyers clean up the whole "gender reveal party" fiasco. Like, who cares if the whole state is now inhabitable for life?

==============

By the next morning, the battleground was set. Cameras and tons of equipment surrounded the small grassy meadow in front of the Mystery Shack, where Dipper and Wendy were sitting in their chairs with their arms crossed, both wearing much more confident smiles. And the fact that Mabel was with them added them extra layer of morale.

When the clock struck 12, a mighty roar shook the place, as monster truck drove from behind the tree line, smoking and setting nearby branches on fire. The Prankster Prancer jumped out of it, and, drowned in the flashes of cameras, walked into his place.

- So, are you twerps ready for the FINAL PRANK OF YOUR LIFE? - he roared into the microphone, rolling his tongue back and forth as if he was about to eat it. - Nah, we're not gonna prank you. - Wendy shrugged - But someone else will.

The newly reinstalled door to the Mystery Shack opened, and a new figure appeared. An elderly woman walked out, being led by Grunkle Stan that gallantly helped her, for once not sneaking his hand into her purse.

And when she looked up from behind her glasses, the confident smile on Prancer's face disappeared at once.

- Grandma?! What-What are you doing here?! - Oh, don't you know? - Grunkle Stan rushed with explanation - We, old folks, all know each other. And I simply couldn't let her miss her grandson's grand day! - I'm so glad I can see you, Archibald!

The elderly lady used her cane to hook him by his neck and brought him into his arms, despite his best efforts to avoid any interactions.

- G-Grandma, don't- don't call me that! - Why not? - she continued, seemingly ignoring her grandson efforts to escape her tight hug. - I am your grandma, and I will call you by your full name, Archibald Roderick Sebastian Eugene!

Somewhere behind them, Dipper, Wendy and Mabel were having the time of their life, trying to hide their laughter.

- So, wait, his initials literally make him an... - Grandma! Make them stop! They-they are laughing at me! - Nonsense! Those young folks told me all your fans would love to see me talk about you. So I've send them some photos via the eclectic mail!

The blonde man looked to the side at Wendy and Dipper's faces. Their wide smiles told him everything, and in the act of ultimate desperation, he gently shook his head, silently mouthing his plea. He then looked at Mabel's, but hers was filled with spite.

In response, Mabel simply pressed a button.

The enormous screen behind them lit up, showing an adorable newborn blonde boy in diaper, giggling at the baby rattle.

Several more followed, showing his equally naked body in progressively embarrassing positions.

The screen changed, and the same boy was now three-years old, wearing a strict haircut as well as a bowtie. And the worst part was, he looked happy.

The Prankster Prancer fell to his knees, as tears began rolling from his eyes, which his grandma quickly dried with her handkerchief.

- Oh, yes, I do tear up a little at this one too. Oh, but the next one makes me so proud!

Prancer's eyes widen, if possibly even more, and throwing away all the pretence, he rushed to Wendy and Dipper and began begging them for mercy. But it was for nothing. He knew they have seen the photo already.

And with another press of a button, a seven-year old Prancer was shown, wearing a blue cardigan, sitting in an armchair with a big book in his hands, smiling at the camera, proudly showing his braces.

The scanned photo displayed a title, written in crayon over it.

"I love school!"

Flocks of birds flew into the air from the nearby trees in response to the shriek that reverberated the air, full of remorse, despair, and unmistakably, defeat.

- Nooooo!

The Prancer hit the ground with his fists, for which he was quickly reprimanded by his grandma ("You're going to make them dirty!"), while Wendy and Dipper high-fived each other, before giving Mabel a warm hug.

=============

- So I guess that will teach him? - Dipper asked Wendy as the two lay on the sofa, flicking through the channels again. - Pfh. I wish it did. - Wendy reached for her phone and showed Dipper a familiar blonde man waving his arms uncontrollably. - "What's up Prankster Pros? It's ya boy, and I've got this sweet book deal full of my MOST EMBARASSING photos! Look at that baby bottom! Only for $99.99..." - Geez, I guess they never learn. - Nope. But at least he's not here...

For a while the room dimmed every few seconds, as Wendy searched for anything interesting, but something else was on Dipper's mind.

- So... about those Cuddle Buddies...

The remote fell out of Wendy's hand.

- Uh, yeah, so, I just...

She shied away and mumbled her answer, until she saw a polite smile on Dipper's face.

- So, like, remember ever since you wanted to win that Duck Panda for me? I... kinda got into them, you know. Not like, obsessively collecting them, but... you know. - Yeah, I do. For cuddling.

The two looked at each other and exchanged the same, warm smiles.

- So which generation you like the most? - Well, gen 2 obviously - she rolled her eyes - What? Five is the best. - The best as sucking, perhaps. - Come on, they had changed the lead designer and everything, but they're still Cuddle Buddies...

For quite a while, the channel stayed on, as neither of them bother to change it. And when the night fell on, Wendy and Dipper realised that they might have discovered something new to talk about.

#nautiscaraderfics #wendipweek #wendip week #wendip #wendy corduroy #dipper pines #gravity falls #prank war

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apiratewhopines · 3 years ago

Text

Killian, Persuaded

Chapter Three - Show and Tell

Summary: In which our hero tries to mend fences

Chapter 3 on AO3

“You’re just a lost cause

(She said)

I know how people like you end up”

-lost cause//, KennyHoopla

Killian wasn’t sure why his nieces took an instant liking to him. Perhaps they were easily pleased. Maybe it was because they didn’t see too many new faces in this backwater town. Possibly his hangdog expression put them in mind of a real dog and they decided to make him into the family pet.

All valid points as far as he was concerned.

However, as surprising as it may be, they managed to worm their way into his good graces in less than twenty-four hours. Their infectious high spirits helped him get out of bed on what would have otherwise been a horrible Monday morning. He could have blamed the time difference for the way his body rebelled against his attempt to get moving. After all if he was at his penthouse, it would be four in the morning. Not to mention the fact his head felt like it had been split open and his brain placed into a blender for a twirl.

Jet lag and concussions would have been wonderful excuses. Unfortunately, the truth was he barely slept because his mind was filled with images of Emma then and now.

Seeing the girls lined up in an exact replica of the prior morning, only this time with the little ones’ foreheads hardly clearing the top of the mattress, he pushed past his natural inclination to go back to sleep. “Good morning! How’s my little garden today?”

A chorus of greetings called back to him enthusiastically. It didn’t even bother him that when the twins said his name, it sounded more like Knuckle Kill-Yon. He rolled his legs from under the colorful quilt onto the floor and wished he had thought to pack his slippers. Having taken up residence in Aster’s room, his senses were assaulted with varying shades of pink ranging from bubble gum to neon. Unicorns and rainbows covered most surfaces and the gauzy, glittery white curtains may have made him feel like a fairy princess but did little to keep the early morning light out.

“We need to leave in fifteen minutes so we’re not late, Uncle Killian,” Iris reminded him. She had firmly established the timeline for their commute several times last night but he didn’t blame her for worrying. When he caught sight of himself in the gilded vanity mirror, he knew he didn’t look like a man who would be ready to go in such a short period of time.

“Then I better get to it,” he mumbled. Tousling hair as he gently herded them out of the room, he closed the door with a sigh. He couldn’t contain the slight grin that emerged when he heard Aster’s dulcet tone carry through the barrier, reminding him to wear his leather jacket.

Foregoing a shower for the sake of timeliness, he pulled on black jeans, a charcoal sweater and the requested jacket. Padding down the hallway to the large shared bathroom, he tried to ignore the way Disney characters seemed to stare at him from the shower curtain, shampoo bottles, and toothpaste tubes filling the room. Focusing instead on trying to tame his hair, he was a little concerned to find his toothbrush was already wet when he grabbed it off the countertop. God only knew what his nieces had been up to with the apparatus. Shaking off his fears because he didn’t have a choice in the matter, he finished getting ready with a mere two minutes to spare.

He pulled on his boots and jogged down the stairs to find Iris and Aster waiting, matching backpacks slung across their small frames and Wonder Woman lunchboxes dangling from their hands. Liam joined them a moment later, the twins trailing behind him with tears in their eyes. With a concerned look at them, Liam correctly interpreted and answered his unspoken question. “They want to go to school with you too.”

“Ah, well, maybe next time.”

“They won’t be old enough until next year,” Iris pointed out, a grimace showing her exasperation at the emotional distress throwing off her carefully crafted schedule. “Come on, we’re going to be late.”

Resisting the temptation to roll his eyes at the tiny tyrant, he opened the door and said, “Right you are! Which direction is the school?”

“We have to pick up Henry first,” she answered, grabbing his left hand while Aster reached for his right one. With one last glance at Liam’s amused face, they were off.

Unexpectedly bookended by his nieces as if they were trying to prevent him from backing out at the last minute, he agreed, “Of course. We wouldn’t want to forget Henry.” Whoever the hell that was.

To his extreme mortification, he realized they were heading straight for Emma’s house. Of all the days to skip his normally meticulous morning routine. Slowing down so much that Iris tugged on his hand so he would keep up, his voice felt like it was coming from outside him when he asked, “Is Henry Emma’s son?”

“Sort of…he’s her foster kid.”

Something akin to longing raced through him, causing his heart to flutter in a most embarrassing manner. This interesting tidbit of information didn’t necessarily mean Emma was unattached. Nevertheless, he was somewhat reassured he wouldn’t be faced with the full force of his bad decisions first thing in the morning. At least, he hoped he wouldn’t be.

With lighter steps than a moment ago, they approached her front door and it flew open to reveal a young boy with dark hair and an irrepressible smile. Henry made no secret of his fascination as he took in Killian with the rapt attention of someone who had honed first impressions as a survival mechanism. It was an expression he remembered seeing on Emma’s face when they met. It was unfair one so young would have to develop such skills. A moment later, he knew he passed muster when the lad asked the girls, “Is this your new uncle?”

Aster practically glowed with pride. “Yes, isn’t he great? He’s a pirate.”

“We talked about this, love,” he chided gently. He’d have to ask Liam where his six-year-old’s obsession with pirates and leather jackets came from. Turning his attention to Henry, he looked into the hallway on the off chance he would catch a glimpse of his former flame. When her slim form didn’t appear, he asked with only a little trepidation, “Is Emma around?”

“Yeah, she’ll be down in a minute. She went upstairs to change when she saw you coming,” Henry said in a tone conveying he didn’t understand what all the fuss was about. “Is it true you lost all your money and you’re going to live with Liam now?”

Out of the mouths of babes. Well, he supposed it was better to know what the town was saying about his arrival. Feeling a certain amount of kinship with Henry, impressed by his direct manner and sensing he was a bit lonely under it all, he answered, “Aye, it’s true. A sad state of affairs to be sure. Since I’ll be here for awhile, perhaps you can show me around later. Give me the lay of the land.”

“Definitely! I know all the good spots,” Henry agreed happily, apparently eager to bond with the newcomer. Killian saw the storm clouds pass over Iris’s face but he wasn’t sure if it was because they kept getting further behind schedule or due to the fact he asked Henry to be his guide. Before either of the girls could protest this turn in events, Emma rushed down the stairs.

Harried though she appeared to be, she was still a ray of sunlight in an otherwise gloomy day. Grabbing her keys off the side table on the edge of his line of vision, he watched as she gently prodded Henry through the door and locked it behind them. Not meeting his gaze, she turned to the kids and said, “I’m going to walk with you as far as the station. I need to talk to your uncle.”

While he couldn’t deny he was hoping to see her today, something about her words caused a shiver of unease to trickle down his spine. He rarely found he was in for a pleasant conversation when a woman said they needed to talk. Squeezing his nieces’ hands softly before letting go, he looked down at their disappointed faces and suggested, “Why don’t you all run ahead and wait for us at the stop sign?”

He could tell Aster wanted to argue but Henry, who was probably the oldest of the group by about two years, seemed to sense the tension and sagely maneuvered his companions out of earshot.

Not in any rush to start, they moved slowly down the sidewalk without a word. When he began to wonder if she had lost her nerve, she finally broke the silence. “What are you doing here, Killian?”

“I imagine the entire world knows the answer to that question by now, love,” he joked flatly. “My father ran off with my fiancée after squandering the wealth it took my family centuries to accumulate. What are you doing here?”

“I live here,” she replied stonily. “I’ve always lived here. Not that I expect you to remember anything about me.”

Stopping in the middle of the random driveway they were passing, he looked at her pointedly until she met his eyes. “Make no mistake, Emma, I remember everything about you. In excruciating detail, I might add. You never mentioned your hometown, not that it would have kept us from ending up right where we are if you had. And I’m not sorry for it.”

“Not sorry for it? Of all the arrogant, insensitive things to say—“

“No! I mean, obviously I’m sorry for that,” he interrupted, his cheeks flushing at the misunderstanding. Running his hand through his hair, he glanced to his side to assure himself the kids were making their way to the corner.

Stepping closer, he resisted the urge to touch her, his mind drifting back to when he had been free to hold her anytime he wanted. Her nearness was intoxicating. The strength running like steel through her bones was exactly as he remembered but the vulnerability in her expression was new. “Let me remove my foot from my mouth and try again, love. What I meant was I’m not sorry to be here with you now. I’m happy to see you again.”

He narrowly avoided adding, ‘I’ve missed you every single day and I think I may still be in love with you.’ He knew he didn’t deserve to say those words to her anymore.

“Uh huh, sure,” she muttered, rolling her eyes. “I fell for the lost boy act once already so you’ll have to do better than that.”

Even knowing he had earned her rancor and disbelief, he felt his hackles rise. Perhaps that’s why his next words were rushed and heated, tripping off his tongue without a thought to the repercussions. “There was no act. It was real and it meant everything. I regret how it ended but I will never regret that it happened.”

Her eyes flashed at him and it stirred his blood in a way he hadn’t felt in years.“You regret how it ended? If that was supposed to be an apology, it’s the worst one I’ve ever heard, Killian. But it doesn’t matter. I don’t want to hear your regrets or your apologies. The only thing we need to figure out is if we can tolerate being in each other’s company so our baggage doesn’t hurt the people around us.”

Tolerating wouldn’t be an issue for him but he did doubt his ability to keep his hands to himself if she continued to look at him so fiercely. How had he ever found the strength to walk away from her? She was positively glorious and he was enough of a spoiled brat to want her even more now that she was so far out of his reach. “You want a truce then?”

“Yes,” she acknowledged with a stiff nod. “We were friends before….before we were together. Surely we can be nice to each other when we’re around Elsa and your brother. They’ve been good to me and Henry. It’s not fair to ask them to choose sides and I don’t want to lose them because they’re related to a downtrodden womanizer.”

He rather thought that was going a bit far. In the intervening years, he spent more than his fair share of time reflecting back on their relationship. He spent the summer after his university graduation with some friends at the family estate not far from where she worked during the busy tourist season to save up for her sophomore year of college. He chased after her from the moment he first spied her in one of the multitude of dockside restaurants littering the Bar Harbor coast.

He had wanted plenty, ached with longing night and day, but quelled his lust and got to genuinely know her during those lazy, hot days. In the end, she was the one who transitioned their friendship into something more. Not that he put up a fight. No, he gleefully followed wherever she led. He whispered secrets from deep in his soul into her hair in the dead of night, swore oaths about the future as if it was his to mold, made them both believe he was the type of man she deserved. He would have done anything for her. Right up until the final few moments.

Since then, he adopted a jaded view of relationships. He liked to think it was because he was more mature and better knew how the world worked. But the worse part about denial was sooner or later you had to admit the truth, even if only to yourself. Yesterday when he saw her again, he knew all his twisting and rationalizing was simply a dodge. In actuality, he had already found what he was looking for so many years ago and subconsciously he knew all along there was little point in pretending with anyone else.

Self-awareness wasn’t all it was cracked up to be.

“I am yours to command, Emma. If you want a convincing display of platonic friendship and breezy repartee, I’m happy to oblige. However, sooner or later we will have the conversation we both know needs to happen.”

“As far as I’m concerned, we just did,” she bit out with a brittle smile.

Any retort he may have made was lost when he heard his nieces shouting at them to hurry up. Checking his watch, he realized despite Iris’s careful planning, they would probably have to jog the last couple of blocks to the school in order to make it in time. Cocking his eyebrow in challenge, he asked, “Coming, love?”

Ignoring him, she shouted a goodbye and waved at the kids as she walked away without a backward glance.

—

Apparently his tardiness was forgiven when they rounded the corner to the school grounds and were instantly beset by an entire school of eager children, not to mention several of the teachers and even some mothers from the carpool line.

It seemed everyone wanted to see for themselves the newly arrived, admittedly handsome, and conveniently unattached uncle the Jones sisters brought to Show and Tell. The fact his life was falling down around his ears only enhanced his appeal if the libidinous glances he received from the adults in the group were any indication.

Never one to be eschew attention, he played the part well. Flirting with ease, he left more than one woman blushing while simultaneously charming the children and making sure his nieces were by his side to share in the warm bubble of curiosity. It was clear they were enjoying their little moment of celebrity but underneath it all was the same awestruck affection they had for him from the moment he stepped into their lives. He was stunned to realize they wanted to show him off not because they craved the recognition but because they thought he was praiseworthy.

However, they were true members of the Jones clan so the attention wasn’t humbly turned away.

He was grateful for the distraction honestly. His encounter with Emma did not go swimmingly. While a part of him was ready to crawl under a rock and lick his wounds, a well of determination sprang up within him and for the first time in a long time, he felt like fighting for something.

Energized by the prospect of earning forgiveness, he was nonetheless trying to be realistic about his goals. While fantasies of being with her again had kept him up most of the night, he knew any kind of rekindling of their romance was impossible. Some mistakes were unforgivable. Some hurts ran too deep to be forgotten. Tempering his expectations, he decided if he could regain her confidence, perhaps have another chance at the friendship he missed as much as the other aspects of their relationship, he would die a happy man.

When the final bell rang out and the masses filed away reluctantly, the girls gave him one last hug and then rushed up the stairs with flushed faces and huge smiles having exacted a promise he would return in the afternoon and escort them home.

Burying his hands in the pockets of his jacket, he tried to ignore the inquisitive eyes following his exit from the property. Playful banter was one thing, an extended conversation with someone who was looking for an adventure in the bedroom was entirely another.

Having no set agenda, he meandered through the streets of Storybrooke taking in the quaint houses and modest downtown area. It seemed like a land that time forgot. The normal chain restaurants and stores were completely absent and the majority of signage looked like it had been passed down from one generation to the next. He had heard jokes about New England thriftiness but it appeared the citizens here took the principle to heart.

He eventually found himself in a small oceanside park. Even knowing most residents were working or in school this time of day, it was odd to have such a beautiful view all to himself. The sound of the waves soothed him in a way few things could and the gray skies didn’t seem as bad when they were counterbalanced by the deep blue water stretching to the horizon.

“Killian Jones?”

Surprised out of his thoughts, he turned around and saw an exquisite woman making her way over to him. Her white blonde hair was pinned up in some kind of elaborate bun but he would have known it anywhere. It would appear he was to finally meet Liam’s wife.

“Present and accounted for, my lady. I would ask who I have the pleasure of meeting but I think I see a good amount of Aster and the twins in you.”

Her laughter drifted like music on the chilly morning air. She joined him seconds later with an extended hand and a friendly smile. “I still haven’t gotten over how hard I worked to bring Iris into this world only to be greeted with the mirror image of her father. Luckily, I’m pretty fond of his face. I see you’ve found one of my favorite places in Storybrooke. Am I disturbing you?”

“You’re a welcome intrusion. When did you get back?”

“Just after you left to walk the girls to school. I hear you’re quite a hit. With them and the ladies in town,” she teased, eyes dancing with merriment. He thought it was Liam’s daughters that softened him but meeting Elsa had him wondering if she was the catalyst for the dramatic change.

The fact she had been in town less than two hours and already heard updates on his reception by the townsfolk was an entirely different issue for another day.

“Not all the ladies,” he muttered under his breath.

“Ah, yes, Emma will be a tough one to crack but considering your history, that shouldn’t come as a shock.”

He took in her serene expression with a side-eyed glance. She didn’t appear to be angry but he just met her so he could be wrong. He guessed it made sense Emma told her best friend about him but damned if he knew what to say about the whole mess. “She mentioned our history?”

“As much as Emma talks about anything personal, yes, I suppose you could say so. But it was years ago and I didn’t have a clue you were Liam’s brother until I got a text from her over the weekend. Is that the bruise she gave you or have you bumped into other former lovers since you arrived?”

“Ha, you’re a funny one,” he observed with a straight face while she tried to hide her laughter at his stoic facade. She moved closer, her smaller frame decked out in a blue pantsuit that looked all business. Despite the brisk air, she seemed in no rush to get inside. “If you’re here to warn me away, Emma already took care of it this morning.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it. I won’t even hold it against you if you promise to tell me the whole story someday. I only wanted to say hello and clear the air since we’re going to be living together. Liam is over the moon to have you. He talked about you so much, even after all those years apart, I feel as though I know you. The girls are thrilled to have a new member join their fan club.”

“And you? Are you fine with me hanging around for a few weeks?”

She turned toward him studying his features with a keen intelligence practically radiating off of her. This woman, for all her laughter and poise, was no pushover. He felt like she saw straight through him and he wanted her to like what she found more than he could remember ever wanting to impress anyone. With a small smile, she reassured him, “I think we’ll get along quite nicely, little brother.”

6 notes · View notes

padfootagain · 4 years ago

Text

A Very Rose Mistake (V)

Part 5 : How Jealousy Gets Denied

Here we go with a new chapter! I am back, people! Sorry for the long pause, but depression is kicking my arse these days, so writing is a little hard at times. Plus, this turned out longer than I thought it would be.

No warning to be applied here, except for a little bit of jealousy **demonical laughter**

Troubles are starting. It's coming folks!

I hope you like this part! Please, tell me what you think about it!

Also, if you want to explore more the area where the hike described in this chapter takes place in the Trossachs, here is a very nice website where you have a view from Ben A'an!

Word count: 4686

Holmes Chapel

2008

Harry was late.

Again.

Third time in a week, and it was beginning to seriously get on your nerves. You repeatedly tapped your pen on your desk, while looking outside your window towards Harry's in the house next to yours. His curtains were closed, you hesitated to use the red piece of glass to signal him that you needed him, but neither of you had used it in a long time. So, you didn't really dare to reach for the drawer of your desk.

You didn't want to seem childish in front of him these days. And maybe it was because of his girlfriend. Maybe it was because he had a girlfriend when you had never had a boyfriend yourself. And maybe you were also getting more and more pissed because Harry was ignoring you these days.

You didn't want to be that friend, the one who called on him and acted clingy and asked for time to be spent with. You understood that Harry was infatuated. You understood that he liked his girlfriend and wanted to spend time with her, and it was normal. But that didn't mean that he had the right to simply cancel all your plans. You were okay with the fact that you couldn't just drop by to his house anymore unannounced, in case Felicia would be there with him. But you had planned this evening to work on your essay for your English class. You had checked with him if he was free, and he had promised to come by 5 pm. It was almost 6 now.

You checked your cellphone one more time, but once again, were met with no text messages or missed calls. He hadn't even warned you that he'd be late, which he used to do before Felicia got into the picture.

You didn't want to be that kind of friend who acted almost possessive, and couldn't manage to accept the arrival of his girlfriend in your inner circle of friends. But on the other hand, you reckoned that Harry was being that kind of friend too. The kind who abandoned his friends to spend all his time with his girlfriend. The kind who got so engulfed in his relationship that he simply dropped everything else the second she asked for him. It was excessive, you reckoned, but then, you weren't altogether surprised. Harry was passionate, and loyal to a fault. He was forgiving and too kind for his own good sometimes. You didn't doubt that in a relationship, he would be a huge romantic. Maybe he had an idea of love that was a little too idealistic, a little too naïve, with too many rainbows and unicorns involved and not enough heartbreak, but you couldn't really hold it against him. You could, however, hold against him that it was the third time in five days that he wasn't meeting you when you planned to spend a couple of hours working together, and it was driving you crazy.

It was a strange mixture of feelings that you experienced, between anger and aching and something a little cold that you couldn't really describe. It felt painful, that was for sure, but more than sad, it was painted red with annoyance and fear. A little voice in your head that screamed 'danger'. You weren't sure of what the feeling meant, but you knew for certain that you didn't like it all the same.

Lost in your thought, you jumped as your mother's voice rang through the house, calling for you.

"Y/N! Harry's here!"

You barely had the time to turn to your door before Harry was stumbling in the room, clearly out of breath.

"Hi, Y/N!" he grinned, staggering in the room and throwing his backpack on your bed.

"Hi," you tried to give him a smile, but it was hard to brush the irritating feeling away as it lingered despite Harry's presence.

"Okay, so… what do we start with?"

You tried to answer his question, you really did. But you were too angry at him for behaving like this for weeks now. So, instead, you answered his question with one of your own.

"Where were you?"

"What?" he asked back with a perplexed frown.

"I've been waiting for you for more than an hour. Where were you?"

He heaved a sigh, letting himself fall onto your bed.

"I know, I'm sorry I'm late. Felicia wanted to hang out a little after my shift at the bakery."

You stared at him for a moment, before standing up to go close the door. Harry watched you with an eyebrow raised in surprise, but he didn't speak nor did he try to interrupt you.

You heaved a sigh, nervously twisting your hands together.

"Harry… You've got to stop doing that," you told him, your voice slow yet he could hear in the way it trembled that you were angry and were trying to keep your voice down. "You can't just… tell me you're gonna study with me and then disappear to go snog your girlfriend instead."

"Y/N…"

"No, let me finish! You're not being fair! I haven't seen you outside of school in weeks. You're either late or you don't show at all."

"What do you want me to do? She's my girlfriend…"

"And I'm your best friend."

"I've got to make time for her."

"I get that. I'm not blaming you for seeing her."

"That's exactly what you're doing though."

Your expression saddened, the crease between your brows fading to reveal a fragility that wasn't there before instead.

"I get it that you want to spend time with her, but we had planned to study together. You can't just cancel everything for her either, you need a balance between the two. It can't be all about her. I get it that you want to spend time with her, and that's alright. But when we agree on a time to spend with each other, you can't bail out."

"I'm not making it all about her."

"You are though."

"If you had a boyfriend, you'd understand."

You cringed at that, wincing and glowering at him. You weren't good either at hiding how his words hurt you.

"What? I'm right," he shrugged.

"You're being a dick."

"You're overreacting."

"If I promised you that I would do something for you, and I didn't do it to spend some time with my boyfriend, wouldn't you be mad at me?"

Harry tried to deny your statement, but he would have been lying. And he didn't want to lie to you. So, instead, he heaved a sigh, and it was his time to wince.

"I guess…"

"Well, that's what you've been doing ever since you started being with her!"

You were starting to raise your voice, and Harry hated it. Not only was he annoyed, but he also simply hated seeing you upset, no matter the reason behind your emotion.

He felt his own anger rising, a mere reflex to hearing your acidic tone. But he knew that it wouldn't do anything good, and he didn't mean to upset you even more. He couldn’t deny either that you were right. He had been neglecting your friendship lately, and he could see now that it was hurting you. So, he heaved a sigh.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled under his breath, pushing the words out reluctantly. "I guess you're right."

He reached in his backpack, grabbing a bag of pastries he had gotten from the bakery he worked at.

"I bought these for you, by the way."

You cautiously took the bag he was handing you, as if it were a trick of his. You peered inside to reveal a couple of chocolate muffins.

"These are my favourite," you breathed, hating the way your anger simply melted away.

He always had this effect on you. Harry always managed to do something so kind, no matter how big the gesture, that you couldn't stay mad at him.

Because you had never asked him for these cakes. He just saw them and thought of you.

For a moment, you were envious, almost, of his girlfriend. Because it had to be wonderful to be with someone who truly paid attention to people and wanted to make them happy as a reflex.

You knew that he hadn't bought the cakes for any particular reason. That he hadn't thought of anything besides the fact that you liked this flavour and it would make you happy to munch on these as you studied with him.

Your heart was beating faster, and you weren't sure why. You knew though that, as you thought of Harry's girlfriend again, you were bitter, and not only because how annoyed you were at Harry for being late.

"I know," he answered with the ghost of a smile, as if you had said the dumbest and most obvious thing.

You heaved a sigh, sitting by his side on your bed.

"Thanks."

"I'll make sure not to be late next time."

"Thank you."

He wrapped his arm around your shoulders and pulled you into his embrace.

"Are we good?"

"Yeah… we're good," you nodded, relaxing in his arms.

"Good, cause you need to help me with this history thing. It's so boring!"

"History is not boring! You're boring," you replied, your voice shushed by his jumper as you pressed your face in his shoulder.

Loud footsteps echoed throughout the hallway by your door, but you didn't pay much attention to them, way too comfortable in your best friend's arms to be bothered.

Until your door was swung opened, making both you and Harry jump and break away in a hurry. Your father appeared, seeming infuriated, and when he spoke, his voice was shaking with wrath.

"I told both of you to always keep this door open!"

Loch Lomond

2020

For the first day with the entire family in Loch Lomond, Cassie and Amy took a day without any planning and proposed to go explore the shores and the wilderness around the lodge. Some members of your family were eager for a quiet day along the shores, but you wanted to go explore other parts of the region, which was why you were now sitting around the breakfast table with a guide book and your phone set on your laps, focused on finding the perfect spot for a hike.

"You've spent half an hour looking at maps, darling… just… choose a path and go there," your mother sighed, annoyed.

"What do you care? You're gonna stay here all day anyway. I want a nice spot. I want to climb and have a nice view, but I also want some forest."

Your mother rolled her eyes at you again, but chose to not say a word this time.

"I think I'm gonna go to the Trossachs and try to go to… Ben A'an. It has a nice spot, it should give us a nice view," you mumbled under your breath, talking more to yourself than to anyone else in particular. "But it's not too high so it shouldn't be too hard."

By your side, Harry was finishing to eat his pancake and drinking his cup of coffee, reading the newspaper. If he was attending your cousin's wedding, he also took this week as a well-deserved holiday. He had been particularly busy these past few months, and would enjoy to spend a calmer week. And if he usually never refused a hike or any activity outdoor, he longed for a good nap. So, when asked, he had chosen to stay around the loch for the day. Amy's grandfather was organizing an expedition to go fishing, and Harry was most likely going to join the activity. Cassie was up for the hike and was on her way to convincing Amy to join her (after all, a lot of kisses always go a long way and are hard to resist), so you wouldn't be going on your own, he could sit this one out and just enjoy a lazy day.

He was sitting next to you around the long table. He had been eyeing your hand for the past ten minutes, but hadn't dared to reach for it. Giving his usually affectionate way to display friendship, it shouldn't have been a worry for him to add a sprinkle of touches here and there for your family to better buy your dating alibi.

But the thing was, it was you. And things were different with you. And touching your hand wasn't the same as reaching for any other of his friends' or acquaintances'. He couldn't say why, didn't dare to, but it wasn't the same, so he read for the third time in a row the same line of his article while he silently weighed the pros and the cons of reaching out and taking your hand in his.

Meanwhile, Patrick was listening to your conversation while munching on his eggs.

"Would you mind if I joined you?" he asked, studying the picture on the guide book of the spot you had found from across the table, craning his neck a little to see the picture better. "It really does look like it has an incredible view."

"Sure!" you answered with an enthusiastic smile. "The more the merrier!"

You didn't notice the frown that settled on Harry's brow. You didn't notice his gaze abandoning the article to settle on you.

"Great! That sounds like a lot of fun. I love hiking. It's soothing, to be closer to nature."

"Yeah, me too. I try to go out as much as I can to take long walks or go hiking around L.A."

"I've joined a group actually last year. We organize hikes almost every weekend. It's nice to have people to walk with."

"Oh, that's so nice! Where do you go hiking?"

Harry studied the way you leaned towards Patrick, and the way he reciprocated your gesture, the open conversation closing around only the two of you. And he wished you were leaning towards him instead.

He shook himself out of this thought, though. What was wrong with him? You were just talking about hiking…

"Just around Glasgow, but I don't think we've been to this spot yet, I'd really like to try this trail."

"Well, then, you're welcome to join us!"

You reached across the table to take a piece of bread, and Patrick accidentally did the same thing as you at the same time, your hands meeting across the table.

You pulled away in a hurry, shying away and mumbling an apology under your breath. And Harry didn't miss a bit of the interaction. He didn't miss the way you wiggled on your chair, and the way you looked away, and the way your fingers struggled a little to wrap around your cup of tea.

And he didn't miss the way Patrick struggled to hide a smile, and the way he stared at you too intensely, and the way his eyes stopped on your lips for a moment before settling on his plate again.

Harry rolled his eyes in response, annoyed. He didn't sign up to play third wheel…

"Who else is supposed to come?" Patrick asked, bringing the conversation back to life.

"Cassie and Amy! I reckon that everybody else is having a lazy day today."

"Your boyfriend isn't coming either?" he asked, turning to Harry, who was still mostly hidden behind his newspaper.

"No, he said he'd go fishing…"

"Actually, I think I've changed my mind," your fake boyfriend jumped into the conversation, folding his newspaper to place it on the table next to his plate. "A hike sounds great!"

"You're sure? You said you were tired," you asked, surprised.

"Yeah, I'm sure. Breakfast gave me a boost, actually. I'd love to go hiking."

This time, he didn't hesitate, and he did reach for your hand that rested on the white tablecloth, wrapping his long fingers around yours and giving them a gentle squeeze. You gave him a grin.

"Great! Then, it'll be just the five of us! It's gonna be amazing!"

You turned towards your food to hurry to finish so you could get ready. Meanwhile, Harry and Patrick's gazes met, and if no words were exchanged, the way that Patrick looked down at his plate after only a handful of seconds spoke volumes all the same.

"Okay, you said it would not be too hard…"

You couldn't answer to Cassie through your panting. You had barely started and you were already out of breath, a sharp jolt of pain stinging your side. The path was steep, making your muscles ache already and your breath catch in your throat. Maybe that wasn't such a good idea after all…

"Well, it didn't seem so hard on the internet…" you replied, stopping to catch your breath.

The sky was clear and blue, with only a handful of lazy clouds drifting before the sun once in a while. Bosquets around the path clothed the high grass on each sides, while evergreen pine trees mingled their green foliage with the orange, red and yellow ones of deciduous trees. It created a strange and yet beautiful mix of colours that painted the slopes of the mountains, forming a forest across the lower parts of the rocky sides. The path in itself was clear and there was no fear of getting lost, and for as long as you were careful to not twist your ankle on a random piece of rock, you reckoned that the road was quite safe. Except for its slope, that was much steeper than what you had anticipated. You expected an easy hike, and were met with a pretty difficult one instead so far.

By your side, Harry was panting as well, and you were suddenly worried about his asthma.

"You alright?" you asked him with concern painted all over your features.

But Harry gave you a reassuring smile.

"I'm fine. Not ever trusting… you again with… planning a hike… but… besides that… I'm fine," he answered, his words cut by deep breaths he was forced to take in an attempt to calm his burning lungs.

"It'll get easier soon, look," you reassured him, nodding towards the path that stretched before you, and seemed to be less steep further on.

Patrick seemed to struggle less than the rest of your party, and he turned to you as he visibly held back on his speed to stay with the group instead of going further on his own.

"I'll take your bag if you want," he offered you, nodding at your little backpack where you had your bottle of water and some cookies that would be your prize for when you would reach the top.

But you shook your head.

"I'll be fine."

"Are you sure? It's no bother. I'm used to hiking in this kind of terrain, it's easier for me."

Harry rolled his eyes at the comment, but remained silent, merely trying to catch his breath himself.

Despite having some steep moments, the path was pleasant and the fresh air was doing wonders on your moral. For once, you were able to forget about the stress of your PhD, and spending some time with your friends put an unwavering smile on your lips.

The wind of autumn was chilly and on the less protected spots of the trail, it bit down on your cheeks, but it was vivifying too, in a way that gave you energy to go on and continue further up the path. Without your parents around, both you and Harry were more relaxed, and you fell back into your usual banter, acting more like friends than fake lovers again. And it was comfortable. A known territory you had been exploring for decades, familiar and safe. You were in a comfort zone that the two of you had built along the years, and it felt reassuring to fall back in this old safe area of your relationship for a few hours.

As you finally reached the top after more than an hour of climbing up the rocky path, your breath was taken away not only by the physical effort you had been through, but by the sight before your eyes. The top of Ben A'an offered almost a 360°C sight over the loch and the mountains all around, a perfect mix of peaceful water, blue sky, rocky mountains and slopes painted in green, orange, yellow and red by trees in fall. A couple of ravens croaked a few meters away, perched on mossy rocks and breaking the quiet of the place. The wind, strong and howling, seemed to punch your cheeks with each ghast of air. Facing you, Ben Venue stood taller, its sloops colourful, as if the work of a painter more than of nature. Loch Katrine stretched as a long patch of water, glimmering under the vivid sun, on your right. On the other side of a forest, laid the calm waters of Loch Achray, situated on your left. You rested your back against one of the rocks behind you as you took in the view, your feet safely set against the pebbles and dirt on the ground, the grassy area, punctuated with bushes, only starting close to the edge of the slope. The top of Ben A'an, that you had now reached, was rather levelled, and all over a perfect spot for a break.

"It's gorgeous," you breathed.

"Yeah," Harry nodded by your side, still out of breath after the last push that had been needed to reach the top.

You turned a worried face towards him.

"Are you sure you're alright? You're breathing funny."

He coughed a couple of times, but rolled his eyes at you.

"I'm fine, mum. Just out of breath because I've finished climbing up a mountain just now, you know?"

It was your time to roll your eyes at him.

"Well, sorry to get worried about your malfunctioning lungs."

"They're not malfunctioning!"

"You're asthmatic! They are malfunctioning."

"You're out of breath too."

"I don't sound like I'm about to die."

"I don't either. You've clearly never heard someone dying. That's not how it sounds."

You exchanged a playful smile, while he joined you, resting his back against the rock and enjoying the view.

"In all seriousness though," he went on, still struggling to ease out his breathing. "I might let you choose another hike after this one. It's a very nice view."

"Ha! I knew it!" you cheered, giggling.

Cassie and Amy were admiring the view over the loch as well, holding onto each other. Patrick was drinking some water a couple of steps away from you. But as you felt your body cooling down, you decided to use the last remnants of adrenaline of your long walk to climb on top of the rock you were resting upon, thus reaching the true top of the mountain. There would truly be nothing above you then but the blue sky and the occasional crows flying by. It wasn't a very elegant endeavour, as you struggled to climb up the rock. Harry hurried to grab your waist to steady you, scolding you as you slipped.

"What are you doing?" he asked with a deep frown, worry oozing from his deep voice.

"Climbing!"

"Y/N, it's not a good idea, it's slippery."

"Shut up and help me up!"

He rolled his eyes but helped you anyway. Because he could never say no to you anyway. Never had been able to since you were five years old and you asked to play with his favourite toy. So, he secured his hold on your waist, helping your movements to secure your climb, ready to catch you if you were to fall. But you didn't fall, instead reaching the top of the last rock to climb. You took a couple of steps on the top, to reach the highest part, now enjoying a view of both sides of the mountain, water and forests and steep sloops of mountains seeming to lay at your feet just for you. The wind was even more violent at the top, almost deafening, but you didn't mind. You felt so confident for some reason, your usual problems seeming millions of miles away. Standing there, at the top of Ben A'an, it felt like you had reached the top of the world itself. You let out a laugh as you opened your arms wide, letting the wind blow against you with all its strength, turning your face up towards the sun to let its warmth bloom across your cheeks.

And down the rock, still on the path, Harry was looking up at you, listening to your laugh carried across the sky by the strong wind. He took in your dishevelled looks after your climb, and the way the wind caught in your jacket, blowing it away from your body. The way the sun got caught on your skin, and the way your lips split in a glowing smile. A thin layer of sweat glistened on your face, illuminated by the sun. And your carefree stance made you look absolutely unreal.

There was a deep rumble in his heart. A bright, luminous kind of aching that he had been trying hard to forget for years. And he had succeeded. After years of trying, he had made the feeling go away.

So why did he feel like this again now?

Looking at you with arms spread, embracing the world, it seemed, with a happy and free expression written on your features, he just couldn't stop the feeling from settling in his heart once more.

You were beautiful. Radiant. Something about you made him unable to look away. And he hated it. He hated the fact that he felt like this about you. But he couldn't help it. So, he stared at you as you laughed away in the wind, an uncontrollable yet fond smile on his face.

Sometimes he wondered how you could even be real.

And for a moment, he was so entranced in you that he didn't notice that Patrick was staring at you as well.

Harry helped you climb back down, a safe hold securing your movements, and you held onto his shoulders too for leverage. Landing in his arms, so close to him, made him fiercely blush, but he reckoned that if anyone noticed, he could always blame the wind.

But then he was your fake boyfriend for this week. Which meant that he was allowed to be this close to you. He was allowed to hold you for a moment longer than what was needed, and he could always claim that it was to keep up appearances, instead of him simply longing to have you close. And if he repeated this excuse enough times in his head, maybe, just maybe, he might believe in it himself too.

As your gazes met though, it was impossible for him to pretend, and reflexes came rushing back as Harry stepped away from you, an embarrassed blush blooming all the way up to the tip of his ears. You were distracted from his reaction though as Patrick handed you a bottle of water.

This time though, Harry didn't miss the way Patrick looked at you as you thanked him, accepting the water bottle. He didn't miss the way his gaze lingered for too long on your fingers wrapping around the plastic, nor the way he glimpsed at your lips as you brought the bottle to your lips.

When he felt his blood boiling in his veins, Harry attributed the symptom to mere annoyance. Because he hadn't travelled all the way from LA to Scotland for a week, lied to your parents, gotten dragged in all that mess, taken the risk to face his own mother's judgement about the whole ordeal too as your parents were close friends… to end up playing third wheel for you and Patrick. And that was all there was to it.

Maybe the way his heart stomped in his chest was a bit too violent for mere annoyance, but it wasn't a safe choice to call the feeling jealousy, after all.

**********************************************************************

Taglist : @emcchi @fishstick-knows @eldahae @just-damn-bored @retrouvailessx @marvelstudies2020 @boxofteenageideas@ponycake27 @horsesreign @xinyourdreamsx @jbluevelvet@notkeppeki @daynigt-dreamer-stuff @fudgeflyss @stuckupstucky@snek-shit @suchatinyinfinity@i-padfootblack-things @buckybsarmy @heyohheyitsgabi@jigsawlover10 @emyyjemyy @addictedtofictionalcharacters @staringmoony@madamrogers @cronias13 @stylesfics-xx @mellamolayla @mariaenchanted

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles imagine #imagine #fanfiction #fanfic #writing #writing prompt #event #4700 followers

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ericsonclan · 3 years ago

Text

How to Trick a Ghost

Summary: Sophie and Minnie work to set up a surprise birthday party for Tenn but how do you hide a party from a ghost?

Word Count: 1819

Read on AO3:

Minnie looked at all the party supplies, her talons clicking impatiently against the floor. She wanted to start decorating already but Sophie told her to wait. With a small huff Minnie sat on the floor and started to build a nest out of some party streamers. It was actually pretty comfy. She burrowed into the copious amount of party streamers, happy chirps and tweets leaving her lips as she closed her eyes.

Suddenly the sound of fluttering wings appeared along with Sophie carrying a tower of party hats on her head and a mannequin with her talons. “Mission successful,” Sophie grinned as she dove down and did a clumsy landing. The harpy quickly redirected her course though and fell to the ground with a bit more grace.

“Tenn is distracted?” Minnie poked her head out of her nest, a blue streamer draped over her head.

“Yep! He sure does love my art box!” Sophie fluffed up her feathers with pride then glanced over at Minnie. “Uh, Minnie, those are supposed to be draped on the walls, not your face,”

“I know that!” Minnie gave an embarrassed chirp. “I was just trying to guard and hide them in case Tenn showed up. Y’know ghosts, they can just zoom through walls like it’s no big deal,”

“True, true. Well he’s gonna be busy for a while. As soon as I let him use my art box his eyes got all big and shiny,” Sophie smiled, picking up some streamers and flying up to place them with her talons. “He possessed a colored pencil right away and I swear I’ve never seen a pencil race that fast across a piece of paper,” Sophie gave a pleased tweet and a twitter at the recent memory when she paused, her head tilted slightly to the side. What was she forgetting?

After a moment her eyes grew large. “I forgot the tape! I’ll be right back!” Not waiting a second the harpy was off, zipping through the house like it was nothing. She searched all around the front living room, then the dining room table. Nope, not there. Sophie tapped her talon against the floor, unsure where to look when she recalled that there was some tape in her room. The harpy was off like a shot once more and it wasn’t until she had already opened the door that she remembered that Tenn was in there. The loud sound startled the ghost who slipped out of the pencil, his form turning a bit fuzzy due to being spooked.

“Oops, sorry,” Sophie gave a small series of apologetic chirps and walked forward. “Just gotta grab some tape to-” She paused, catching herself before spilling the beans on the surprise birthday party her and Minnie were throwing for Tenn. “Fix my backpack?”

“Your backpack?” Tenn quirked an eyebrow, unsure what his sister even meant.

“Yep! It’s a harpy thing!” Sophie snatched up the roll of tape. “Anyways, whatcha drawing?”

Her question was answered by Tenn possessing the piece of paper and moving away. After a moment he poked his form out of the object.

“Sorry, it's just...” The ghost couldn’t think of an excuse that wouldn’t give away what he was drawing.

“It’s okay, I don’t have to see it if you don’t want me to,”

“You can see it, just not yet,” Tenn fidgeted with his fingers, the edges of his ghostly form twirling in the air.

“Okay!” Sophie grinned then reached forward and tried to ruffle her brother’s hair but her hand phased through. “Damn it, keep forgetting. Alright, I’ll leave you to it then!” Sophie gave one more smile then flew out of the room. Tenn waited a few moments then quickly returned to possessing the colored pencils; immediately the red pencil went to work.

Minnie was in the middle of blowing up a balloon when her twin reappeared.

“I’m back!”

Sophie’s voice caused the harpy to inhale sharply, choking on air. Minnie made a weird face, little odd twitters and chirps leaving her lips as she tried to clear her throat. Sophie zoomed forward and whacked Minnie’s back with a hearty hit, helping her catch her breath. Minnie gave her sister an annoyed look and Sophie gave a nervous laugh.

“Oops, sorry about that. So, whatcha working on?” Sophie poked her head over her twin’s shoulder and noticed the ghost-shaped balloons.

“I thought Tenn would like it,” Minnie looked down shyly.

“He totally will! Alright, I got the tape so we can get started!” Sophie flew a few circles in the air to burn off some of her excitement then got to work putting up streamers. The twins worked hard on the decorations as they spoke about the party, both of them buzzing on the anticipation of their brother’s face when he saw the party. After a little while though Sophie paused. “Wait, what if he sees this early?”

Those words worried Minnie, her mind spiraling for a moment. “Salt!”

“Right! Genius move, salt repels ghosts,” Sophie disappeared and returned moments later, a happy, proud smile on her lips as she showed the container of salt. “Let's get this circle made!”

“Sophie?”

“Yes, Minnie?” Sophie smiled over at her twin.

“Why the hell did you make the circle so small?” Minnie gestured to the tiny circle that barely encircled her.

“We didn’t have enough salt for the room so I thought I’d focus on just us...”

“The salt doesn’t make us invisible though and Tenn would still see all the decorations,”

Minnie’s words made Sophie realize her mistake.

“Oh shit. Well, ummm,” Sophie shrugged. “Oh well, he definitely can’t reach you now. Anyways, can I get on your shoulders? My arms hurt but I still need to put up the banner,” Minnie sighed “Fine,”

Sophie beamed at those words. Soon the twins were back at it with decorating until the next question popped up in Sophie’s mind.

“Minnie, what did we buy for party food?”

“Ghost peppers,”

Sophie blinked at that answer. “Those are super hot. They’re gonna burn our mouths off.”

“Yeah, but I don't know, I thought maybe ghosts could eat them because, y’know, the name,”

Sophie stifled a laugh. The action made a frown appear on Minnie’s lips as her feathers ruffled in embarrassment.

“Maybe we should’ve made some boo-loney sandwiches too. Oh! Oh! Or maybe we can bake some boo-berry pie,” Sophie devolved into a fit of laughter and fell onto the floor, tears in her eyes as wheezy chirps left her lips.

Minnie’s frown remained; her feathers were extremely ruffled. “Whatever, I know you’re a dumbass too.”

Sophie kept laughing for another few seconds then got up to her feet. “Okay, okay, yes, I am a dumbass but at least it wasn’t about ghost peppers,” Sophie smiled and felt Minnie nudge her side. “Anyways, back to decorating,” Sophie strolled over to get the mannequin but soon paused. “But first, one more joke. What does a ghost order at an Italian restaurant?” “I don’t know, what?” Minnie asked but then immediately figured it out and answered at the same time her twin did.

“Spook-ghetti!”

The sisters smiled, sharing a quick laugh and in that moment all was forgiven and they worked to get the mannequin to look snazzy so that Tenn would look great at his party. Sophie threw on a feather boa and Minnie tossed on a pair of birthday sunglasses. After that was done the twins looked around at their great decorating skills then shared a fist bump. It was time to get Tenn.

“Just close your eyes and hover over this way,” Minnie guided her younger brother who was absolutely confused. He was currently floating about inside his artwork since he wanted to show it to his sisters. After a while though he slipped out of the item when Minnie said to open his eyes. Slowly opening them, his mouth went ajar as he took in the sight of the room. Streamers of blue and purple covered the walls and cute cartoon ghost balloons floated nearby. On a table there were ghost peppers, some bottles with flavored mist labeled ghost water and a cake with beautiful unicorns on it. Next to the cake was way too many presents for two harpies to afford or for a ghost to own. Beside the table was a mannequin with a pink feather boa and birthday sunglasses with a name tag that said: Hi, my name is Tenn, a 10/10 brother.

“So, like it?” Sophie leaned forward, her talons anxiously scratching on the floor. Minnie seemed just as nervous; her eyes had taken a more panicked anticipation.

“Like it?” Tenn managed, his voice soft. “I love it! This is amazing!” He gave one of the biggest smiles that the twins had ever seen. The two of them crowed with joy and fist bumped again as Tenn started to float up higher in the air without meaning to. He was always this way whenever his happiness was too much for his small ghost form to contain.

Tenn was so caught up in his happiness that he was halfway through the ceiling when he snapped out of it at the sound of Sophie’s curious chirping. Glancing down, he noticed that she had found the art. In an instant he flew through the air and hovered over it.

“I wanted to surprise you two with a drawing,” Tenn fidgeted with his fingers as his sister studied the art. It was all three of them standing in front of their house. Sophie had a paint brush and easel and was flying in the air while Minnie was busy playing a song on her guitar while Tenn hovered in the air above them with a smile.

Minnie and Sophie were silent for a few seconds.

“Holy shit, this is...” Minnie looked up at her brother with the happiest smile, “Fucking amazing!”

“Yeah! It's so cool and cute! I love it!” Sophie tried to tackle her brother with a hug but phased through. “Oh shit,” The harpy whispered as she realized her mistake too late before crashing on the floor.

“Soph, you okay?” Tenn’s ghost form flew over his sister.

“Yep!” Sophie gave a thumbs up.

Tenn gave a relieved smile at that. “Oh, I can possess the mannequin, then you get your hug,”

Sophie and Minnie both gave happy twitters at that and soon Tenn dove down, possessing the mannequin. The twins instantly flew forward and wrapped their arms around it, the closest form of Tenn they could touch.

“Happy birthday, Tenn,” Minnie gave a soft smile at her brother.

“Yeah! Happy birthday! You’re thirty three!”

Tenn gave a small sigh. Even if the fire happened around twenty years ago he felt closer to the age he had become as a ghost. “Thanks,” Tenn felt an overwhelming warmth take over his heart. He couldn’t wait to celebrate his first birthday as a ghost.

#twdg #twdg minnie #twdg sophie #twdg tenn #minnie sophie brotp #sophie tenn brotp #minnie tenn brotp #twdg dreamer fam #fanfic #we are monsters we are proud au

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marvels-writings · 5 years ago

Text

Escape (3)

| Part 1 | Part 2 |

Series Masterlist

Maria Hill Masterlist

Request: Hi! I always love your writing. Everything is closed in New Zealand for at least another 3 weeks so your writing helps keeps me sane. Could you please do a Maria Hill x reader. Maybe the reader is an assassin that Maria has been trying to bring in for months but reader always manages to escape. The reader catches feelings for Maria during their many encounters and one day helps her save one of the avengers. Maria asks reader “if i asked you to stay, would you?”. Angst but Happy ending please ☺

A/N: I need to plan out series better instead of making it up as I go, and the collage isn’t mine

This was never the life you’d wanted, you never wanted to run from hideout to hideout and find new ones. You knew you would need to find a new hideout in New York, somehow all the trouble in the world ended up here. The footsteps pounded up the stairs and reached the door, you smirked and left a note in front of the vase, gathering your bag and crouching on the windowsill and looking down at the street when Maria kicked open the door, pistol pointed inside.

She walked forwards and read the note, it said ‘I told you I’d put them in water ;)’. Maria couldn’t help the smile which crept up her face, she turned around to see you sitting on the windowsill, the bag held on your left side, your right side dangling out of the window.

“If it means anything to you, I did have a great night.” You winked at Maria and jumped, using the bag to slow you down and rolling when you hit the floor. Smirking up at Maria who looked down at you through the window before you sprinted off towards the SHIELD cars to get your other bag back.

Maria called in backup, she didn’t know you needed her to call backup to get your bag back. You snuck around the front, wearing a mask to look like an ordinary citizen with a bag, only your hair was the same. You’d used a change of clothes, now you wore a simple fav/color t-shirt,

“Miss, have you seen this woman?” One of the agents asked you, showing you two pictures, one of you without makeup, one of you impersonating the agent.

You suppressed a smirk and nodded your head ‘no’ before continuing towards the car. All the agents headed away from the cars, scouring the crowd for you. One agent was guarding the car with your bag, you approached them carefully, pretending to ask for help, you reached into your pocket to pull out a map but you pulled out your taser, quickly knocking them unconscious and putting the agent in the car.

You threw your bag into the car, taking the bag that had been there, putting dirty clothes and things you didn’t need in the bag in the car and taking extra weapons, masks, another suit, a change of clothes, fake ids and an extra credit card in your bag, leaving the unconscious agent in the back with an apology note and made your way away from the scene, looking over your shoulder in case anyone noticed you.

Somehow, none of the agents noticed you leaving with a different backpack, or even noticing the switch. You heard them shouting and reading your apology note out loud and you subtly sped up, lip twitching up in a smirk as you walked away from the scene and towards another hideout.

-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-

This hideout was better located, it was away from the city and security cameras. It was a cabin near New York City, the previous owner had died, you’d bought it from his son, who had wanted nothing to do with the cabin. Using the extra money you had, you had renovated the cabin and gotten new furnishings. This was the hideout you came to when you needed to relax, it was completely off the grid, you could almost call it a home.

You threw your bag on the couch and lay down next to it, pulling out your phone and lifting it to eye level to see a notification from Maria. You smirked tiredly and clicked on it after securing your phone so she couldn’t track you.

‘Why?’ was the only text from her, you sighed and sat up.

‘That’s the only question you have?’ You texted back, switching your phone off immediately after, you got up and went to the refrigerator, there was nothing inside except for a few frozen food items which were probably going to expire soon.

You sighed and closed the door, getting some water from the sink and making your way to the bedroom to get some deserved rest. The cabin was one of your favorite investments, all of the walls were covered in bulletproof glass, it allowed you to get a full view of the forest around you, but you felt safe knowing that nothing less than a missile could break through the glass.

You changed into an old camp sweatshirt and sweatpants you’d left in the closet and flopped down on the comfy bed. You fell asleep quickly, watching birds outside and listening to them sing to each other, feeling more peaceful than you have in months.

-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-

Waking up in a familiar place was the best feeling, you knew exactly where you were and how you got here. You smiled to yourself and got off your bed, yawning and scratching your hair as you looked around. Maria stood at the foot of your bed, in a navy, body-con dress with her eyebrow raised and her hands on her hips. Her hair was in a tight bun, one or two strands to frame her face.

Your hand instantly went under the pillow to where you’d left a gun only to find that it wasn’t there anymore. Maria waved the gun in front of her, you looked outside the window, there wasn’t any backup, it was just her.

“Just you?” You asked, your voice still raspy from sleep as you slid off your bed, smoothly retrieving a knife from the side of your mattress and tucking it in the pocket of your sweatpants.

“Just me, you weren’t replying to my texts,” Maria stated, you shrugged and put on some slippers, walking towards Maria who stepped aside and let you go through the door as you put your hair in a messy bun.

“So you decided to pop in?” You joked, then furrowed your brows and turned to face her.

“How the hell did you even find me?” You asked, Maria, smirked and leaned an elbow against the dark granite counter as you walked towards the fridge.

“I put a tracker in the bag you’d left behind,” Maria answered, you looked outside the window from the kitchen, there were no other cars.

“How did you know I’d come for the bag?” You questioned, making a mental note to change the bag and clean all the weapons for trackers.

“Call it a gut feeling, and there isn’t anyone else,” Maria said, you flinched when she noticed, you took out frozen waffles from the fridge and a container of Kirkland maple syrup.

“Waffles?” You offered, Maria raised an eyebrow, you shrugged and put them back in the fridge, making sure the gun in the fridge had the safety off.

“Why are you here?” You demanded after putting the waffles in the microwave and turning to face her.

You put your hands on the counter and leaned closer to her face, looking for any sort of reaction, trying to prevent staring at her blue eyes. You smirked when you saw her glance towards your lips and inhale sharply, leaning away from you before answering.

“To talk,” Maria answered, sitting on one of the barstools across the counter, you tilted your head to the side.

The microwave drew your attention away from her, you took the waffles out of the microwave and poured maple syrup, scouring the fridge for whipped cream then adding that and switching on the coffee pot. You took some silverware from one of the drawers and started eating as Maria stared at how casual you were.

“Talk.” You said, gesturing to her with your knife, the brunette took a deep breath, this was going to be more complicated than she thought, mainly because of you.

“Weapons?” She asked, you looked at her, not amused, she sighed, she knew you weren’t going to discard the knife in your pocket.

“Talk,” You said again, Maria sighed and rested her elbows on the counter, watching you eat breakfast.

“You’re supposed to be the frightened one spilling all your secrets,” Maria muttered, you chuckled while eating, scooping a bit of whipped cream on the fork and shrugging.

“I never really do what I’m ‘supposed to’, now tell me why you’re here and why I should care.” You stated Maria’s eyes widened at how direct you were.

“You said you didn’t want this life, I can get you out of it.” Maria offered, you groaned and put the last bite of waffles in your mouth, eating the last bit of whipped cream and putting your plate and silverware in the dishwasher.

“I doubt that, but tell me how anyway.” You said, you smirked and walked to sit next to Maria on one of the barstools, your knee brushing hers lightly as you turned to face her. Maria subtly clenched her jaw, causing your smirk to grow, this was going to be better than you thought.

| Part 4 |

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steves-on-a-plane · 5 years ago

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Run. (Pt 2)

Run.

Part One / Words: 2051 Pairing: Tony Stark & Reader Timeline: Pre-Iron Man [2008] Other Info: Run AU Summary: Reader has been living with her longterm boyfriend, Michael, and their eight-year-old daughter Serina. One afternoon, her life has finally become too much and she remembers an old promise Tony had made to her years ago.

February 2008

You sat in the edge of your bathtub. The bathroom door was locked and you were alone. Dinner was cooked and set at the table. Your eight-year-old daughter was playing with her dolls in her room and her father would be home any minute. Your right leg bounced up and down nervously and your heart felt like it was pounding out of your chest. You shakily held your cellphone in your hand, three letters already typed up on the small screen. R U N

If you thought much longer about it, you’d lose your nerve. You sent the text message and put your phone down. You brought your hands to your mouth and breathed deeply. You stared at your phone and waited for Tony’s response. You thought your anxiety might cause you to pass out if he didn’t answer you soon. After an agonizing three minutes a text message came through.

Come to my place for the weekend and think it over. Malibu. Bring the kid. -T.

We’ll have dinner and then drive over. You texted him back. Shaking your head, you stood up and unlocked the bathroom door. You went across the hall and poked your head into your daughter’s room.

“Hey, Serina, wanna go visit Uncle Tony after dinner?” You asked her, leaning against the doorframe.

“Uncle Tony.” She looked up at you suddenly with a large joyful smile. “Yeah!” She nodded excitedly. “Can we go swimming?”

“Maybe.” I’m gonna pack some stuff for you in case we stay overnight, “okay? You can just keep playing.” Without hesitation your daughter went back to playing. You took a backpack out of her closet and packed a week’s worth of clothes for her. You hung the backpack on her bedroom doorknob and were about to start packing a bag for yourself when you heard Michael calling up the steps.

“I’m home! Dinner smells great.” He shouted.

“We’ll be right down!” You answered back. “C’mon kiddo, you must be hungry.” You held a hand out to Serina and she took it happily. You walked down the stairs together and joined Michael in the dining room. Everyone got settled and soon the room was filled with a chorus of tings as forks touched plates. “How was your day?” You asked quietly.

“Fine.” Michael answered his mouth full of food. He reached for his cellphone and started typing a message to someone. You looked down at your plate, willfully not watching as the father of your child continued to chew with his mouth open.

“Mama says we’re gonna go see Uncle Tony later.” Serina announced proudly. You heard his cellphone hit the table and then his fork tap against his plate. You stole a sideways glance in Michael’s direction and saw him glaring at you.

“Did she now.” He asked leadingly.

“Well Tony only just offered a little while ago and tomorrow’s Friday so it’s the start of the weekend.” You rushed out the reasonable explanation you’d be rehearsing in your head.

“You know I have that large account that I have to finalize this weekend.” Michael sighed. “I can’t drive to Malibu just because it’s the weekend.”

“I know.” You nodded quickly. “And I know how important that account is, so that’s why I was thinking maybe just Rina and I would go. We could go and stay with Tony for the weekend and be out of your hair for a few days.”

“So you’d leave me here alone?” Michael scowled. “What about your chores? How would I eat? Who would do the laundry?”

“Well, there are plenty of leftovers in the fridge. You could eat those. And I’m sure I could do the laundry or clean whatever needs to be done when we get back.” You tried to inform him with a level tone.

“So, you expect me to live in squalor until you get back?” He grumbled, picking up his fork again. “Do whatever you want. We both know you’re going to anyway.” He added louder. “Just don’t expect me to lift a finger to help out when you get buried in your housework on Monday.”

Serina looked cautiously between you and Michael. She wore the uncomfortable expression that children often had when their parents disagreed in such a way. She didn’t like it when you fought or said meanspirited things to each other and you tried to avoid it whenever possible. But avoiding a rise from Michael was getting harder and harder these days.

You ate the rest of your dinner in silence. Serina tried to inject the awkward air with anecdotes about her day. Michael grumbled the occasional growl of acknowledgement in her direction in between bites. By the time the meal concluded you couldn’t wait to get out of the house. You washed the dishes, cleared the table, put away the leftovers and any other signs of dinner. It was about seven o’clock when you finally stuffed a suitcase full of clothes and collected Serina from her room again.

You strapped your kid into the back seat and tossed your bags into the back hatch of your minivan. After driving two hours you arrived in Malibu. Tony was pacing outside his front door when you arrived at his beach house. When he recognized your silver minivan in his driveway, he sprinted over towards you.

“Where the hell have you been?” he asked you impatiently. “How long does it take to eat dinner? I’ve been calling and calling. I was worried.” He confessed.

“I’m sorry.” You apologized, getting out of the van. “I think my phone must have died.”

“At least you’re okay.” He sighed with relief. “You are okay, right?”

“Yeah, in all the ways that it matters.” You promised. “I brought someone to see you.” You and Tony walked to the back of the van and you slid open the side door. Your daughter had already undone her own seatbelt.

“Uncle Tony!” She leapt out of the van and at Tony as soon as she saw him.

“There she is!” Tony beamed, catching her in his arms. “My Serina Ballerina!”

“Uncle Tony, I haven’t seen you in forever!” Serina lamented. You walked to the back of the van and collected your bags before closing the hatch.

“You just saw me a month ago for your mama’s birthday, baby girl.” Tony cooed carrying her inside.

“That was a long time ago.” She yawned.

“You tired Rina?” You asked, motioning for Tony to hand her over to you. He waved you off, already walking up the stairs towards one of his guest bedrooms.

“I want to go swimming!” Serina protested, her eyelids growing heavy. She was asleep before Tony put her down mattress. You tucked your daughter into bed. You drew the fluffy comforter up around her shoulders and planted a kiss on her forehead. You watched Serina sleep for a few minutes. When you were satisfied that she wouldn’t wake up again, you shut the door behind you and joined Tony in his kitchen.

“I made you this, but it’s a little melted now.” Tony placed a glass with a straw in front of you. You inspected the glass carefully.

“Did you make me a milkshake?” You asked.

“Well, I tried.” Tony shrugged. “Who knows if it’s any good.” You sipped the milkshake cautiously at first, but you quickly realized there was nothing wrong with it. Just a standard strawberry milkshake whose only major flaw was being somewhat more melted than desired.

“This is the best milkshake I’ve ever had.” You announced with a second sip.

“It’s sweet of you to lie to me.” He smirked.

“I noticed on the way in your bags are packed. Did you have plans to go back to New York this weekend?” You questioned.

“No.” Tony shook his head. “Actually, I have to go to Afghanistan in the morning. The company needs me to go for a weapons demonstration.” He rolled his eyes. “Just a small thing. I should be back Saturday afternoon. Then I can spend all day Sunday with my girls. I heard someone wants to go swimming.”

“She’s on a swimming kick right now.” You laughed. “Last week it was unicorns and the week before that it was tea parties.”

“When I went up for your birthday, it was T-Rexes.” Tony recalled.

“How could I have forgotten?” You nodded.

“So, are we gonna talk about it or are you going to make me wait until I get back from my trip?” He asked. Tony leaned forward with his elbows on the counter. He put his head in his hands and waited for an answer.

“I just don’t know if I can do it anymore Tony.” You confessed, raking both your hands through your hair. “He’s insufferable.”

“Yeah well, now you know why I told you not to marry him.” Tony shrugged. “I’m sorry, that was mean.” He added as an afterthought. “C’mon you’ve been with the guy what? Seven years?”

“Eleven.” You groaned out. “If you count the three years we were together before Serina was born.”

“Okay eleven.” Tony nodded. He stood up straight, pushing himself up off the counter. He turned to the fridge for a bottle of water. “In another ten Rina will be eighteen. All you have to do is making twice as long as you already have.”

“I don’t think I can make it another ten months let alone ten years.” You frowned. The idea of living with Michael for another decade made you want to throw up “He’s just…a jerk. Like tonight for example when I told him we were coming to visit he immediately was like ‘Well I can’t go to Malibu just because it’s the weekend!’ and then I lied and told him that I thought he would like to have the house to himself to work. So he started asking me how is he supposed to eat? And who’s going to clean while I’m gone? And I know I’m going to get back to a pile of dirty dishes in the sink and laundry across the bedroom floor. I’m not even married to the guy but he thinks I’m a 50s housewife. It’s just not who I thought I was going to be.”

“You know that you’re always welcome here.” Tony reminded you. “Or New York, or wherever you want to live. You and the kid.”

“I don’t want to do that to you, Tony.” You disagreed. “I don’t want to suck you into my mess of a life and you don’t want to have us here getting in the way. Stepping on a LEGO at three am hurts a hell of a lot more when you’re hung over.”

“Well two things, bold of you to assume I don’t own my own LEGOs and that haven’t stepped on them at three in the morning. Don’t look at me like that, lots of grown men own LEGOs.” Tony smirked. “And you wouldn’t be sucking me into anything. It would be fun to have you and the kid kicking around. You’d never have to lift a finger here if you didn’t want to. And I could cut back on the partying, probably.”

“I should just go home right? This is crazy. I’m being crazy.” You shook your head as if the act alone would unscramble your thoughts. Tony leaned forward and placed one of his hands on yours. He looked at you, his brown eyes softening as he thought of the perfect thing to say.

“You’re not crazy.” He spoke very seriously. “You’re allowed to not be okay with the way things turned out. You’re allowed to change your life too.”

“What times your flight?” You asked, changing the subject. Tony glanced down at his watch and sighed.

“Three or four hours.” He shrugged. “Don’t worry, I can sleep on the plane. You on the other hand look positively exhausted. Why don’t you go lay down, you can sleep in my bed. I know how much you love silk sheets.”

“Tony I’m not going to kick you out of your own bed.” You argued.

“I already told you, I’m not going to sleep before my international flight.” He said. “You’re going to rest and relax here for the next three days. Then you can decide what you want to do.”

#Tony Stark #Tony Stark x Reader #Tony Stark Fan Fic #Tony Stark Fan Fiction #Tony Stark FF #Tony Stark Reader Insert #Run #Run AU

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bluezey · 4 years ago

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Inside Onward - Bold Fail

Second chapter of the Onward/Inside Out mashup. It’s a little longer, but that’s because I wanted to end it on a cliffhanger rather than a bummer. Speaking of bummers, I’m really starting to feel bad for Ian’s Fear right about now.

The morning just got started and the shelves of short term memory were filling up with colorful glowing orbs, each playing a short vision of the memory Ian experienced. Yellow, blue, red, green and purple. Arguably, a little more purple than the other colors. Fear was finishing jotting down some notes in his notebook before he looked up, checking on the other emotions.

Joy was nearby the console, sitting on the couch with his arms and legs stretched out, watching the screen as Ian was in line at Burger Shire. Sadness, Disgust and Anger were by the console discussing what Ian should order for breakfast. Anger wore his red flannel shirt unbuttoned and his sleeves rolled up to his elbows. Disgust was the only emotion that tucked in his flannel shirt, and he had a comb and compact mirror in the chest pocket of his shirt. Sadness’s clothes had creases and wrinkles from the many times he lie around moping, and one extra button undone at the top of his flannel shirt.

“We can’t order a HuzzahMlet,” Disgust argued to Anger. “It’s too messy, and Ian would have to eat it with a knife and fork. He needs something quick to eat, like one of those breakfast sandwiches.”

Anger mumbled, “Fine. But whatever we get better have dragon bacon on it.”

Joy jumped up from his seat with glee as he added, “Ooh, get hash bites! Those are so good. And coffee!”

“Not too hot, though,” Fear warned as he approached the console, feeling needed. “We don’t want Ian to burn his lips. And he likes it-“

“Black with three or four packets of sugar,” the other emotions echoed Fear, knowing Ian just as much as he does.

Fear squeezed in at the center of the group, looking up at the screen as Ian took his receipt from the coworker behind the register. Fear took the controls, Ian turned and sat down on a bench across from the counter. Smartphone Island lit up as Ian began to reach into his pocket for his smart phone, when Ian’s ear caught someone speaking to him from the next seat over, causing the island to go quiet.

“Hey. Go griffins.”

Ian looked up. “What?”

“You go to Willowdale College?” the friendly stranger asked, motioning to Ian’s sweatshirt.

Ian looked down and gave a slight laugh. “Oh, no. This was my dad’s.”

Fear blinked, he didn’t touch the console. He took a double take when he caught Joy at the controls. “Joy! We can’t talk to strangers!”

“Fear, Ian’s sixteen, not six,” she commented, believing Fear’s over protectiveness was genuinely a joke. The other emotions didn’t think so, with Anger quietly shaking his head and Disgust rubbing his temples.

The friendly stranger noticed the name stitched onto Ian’s sweatshirt. “Lightfoot? Wilden Lightfoot?”

“Uh, yeah,” Ian replied.

The friendly stranger’s face lit up. “I went to college with him.”

“No way.” Ian smiled. The emotions caught sight of Dad Island whirring to life.

Joy looked at Fear with an encouraging smile. “See? It all worked out.”

“Yeah.” The college friend’s face turned to sorrow. “Boy, I was so sorry to hear that he passed away.”

Ian’s face fell into a grief filled frown as well. “Yeah… thanks,” he said softly.

Fear looked to Sadness, then back at Joy. “Nice going,” he couldn’t help but comment.

“Yeah, your dad,” the college friend continued, “he was a great guy, so confident. When he entered a room, everyone noticed.” He chuckled before adding, “You know, he wore the ugliest pair of purple socks every single day.”

Ian laughed to himself from learning such a thing. “What? Why?”

“We asked him the same thing,” the college friend explained. “But your dad, he was just bold. I wish I had that kind of confidence in me.”

“Yeah.” Ian grew a little excited from learning something new about his dad. “Wow, I’ve never heard anything about this before. Do you know any-?”

The college friend interrupted. “Oh, looks like it’s time to take this kid to school.”

Ian turned, catching sight of a young boy holding up a carry out bag. The emotions excitement instantly fell, realizing their conversation about Ian’s dad was over. Fear looked over his shoulder as Dad Island dimmed and grew silent again.

“It was nice meeting you,” the college friend said, holding out his hand.

Ian took it and gave it a gentle, friendly handshake. “Yeah, you too.” As the college friend left with his son, Ian looked down at the Lightfoot name on his sweatshirt. “Bold,” he thought under his breath, feeling inspired.

Fear turned back, nodding to himself in agreement. “Bold…”

----

Disgust pointed to a green bench in front of the school. “That one. Check it before he sits down, I don’t want Ian sitting in unicorn poop again.”

“That only happened twice,” Joy tried to wave off.

“Guys,” Fear announced as he took out his notepad and pen, “I got a great idea to change Ian’s sixteenth birthday around. Let’s make a list of things we can do to make Ian the new Ian.”

“You got that idea from mom,” Anger argued.

“Doesn’t matter,” Fear commented. “School starts in ten minutes, so let’s get thinking.”

Ian took a sip of his coffee before pulling out a small notebook from his back pocket. He flipped it open to an empty page and wrote down in black ink ‘The New Me’

“How about we have Ian speak up more,” Sadness softly suggested.

“Excellent idea, Sadness,” Fear commented, writing the note down under his own list titled ‘The New Iandore.’

Joy pressed a button, Ian wrote down on his list ‘Speak up more.’

“Ian can’t be sixteen and not have his driving permit,” Anger said bluntly. “That’s not fair.”

“Learn to drive,” Fear said, writing it down, his hand shaking a bit. Ian wrote down ‘Learn to drive’ on his list as well.

“He needs friends,” Disgust pointed out. “We need people for his party.”

Ian wrote down ‘Invite people to party,’ and so did Fear.

“Oh! Oh! I got one!” Joy jumped up and down, bursting with excitement over a brilliant idea. Instead of explaining it, Joy flicked a few switches and levers on the console. Fear watched the screen cautiously, wondering what Joy just did.

Ian added to the list in bold words ‘Be like dad.’

The other emotions gently praised Joy for the idea. A small smile gradually spread on Fear’s face before he added it onto his list as well.

The school bell rang through the air outside. Ian put his notebook away, placed his backpack over his shoulders and tossed his breakfast trash and leftovers into the garbage by the bench.

“Okay gang, that’s first bell,” Fear told the other emotions as he took the lead. “Let’s get in there before the tardy bell rings and show the world the new Iandore Lightfoot!”

Ian looked up at the two story school building, the concrete structure looking dominating and intimidating as it casted it’s darkened shadow over the teenage elf standing at the foot of the stairs leading inside.

Fear tried desperately to swallow that ball of anxieties tensing up in his throat.

----

Ian made his way down the hall to the doorway of his classroom, but stopped as he looked inside. There was the usual sight of the teacher prepping her notes and kids doing random things at their desks besides school work. At the front was Ian’s empty seat, and behind him was that usual troll, resting his thick sweaty feet on the back of his chair.

“Him again?” Disgust gagged. “Ugh, I’m gonna be sick.”

“This is good,” Joy said, trying to spin things into a positive. “We can use this experience to have Ian speak up for himself.”

“I got this,” Anger declared, cracking his knuckles.

“No no no no!” Fear immediately placed a hand between Anger and the console. Anger glared up at Fear.

“Fear’s right, we don’t need to be mean. Let’s try just asking him.” Joy pressed a button on the console.

Ian approached his desk and cleared his throat quietly. “Hey, do you mind not putting your feet up on my chair today?”

“Sorry dude, the troll replied, lazily keeping his attention on his smart phone. “Got to keep my feet elevated. Helps get blood flow to the brain.”

Joy shrugged and pressed two more buttons. Fear looked back up at the screen, anxiety beginning to creep up his spine and tightly curl his purple nerve into his blue hair.

“Yeah, but it’s hard for me to get into my seat with your feet up like that,” Ian tried again.

“Well, if I can’t think, I’m gonna do poor in school,” the troll replied, more argumentative. He glanced up from his phone and eyed Ian. “You don’t want me to do bad at school, do you?”

That shift in tone and stare was enough for Fear to step in. “It’s not working. It’s not working!” He pushed Joy aside as he slammed his hand down on the console.

“Uh, well… okay,” Ian mumbled off as he tried to squeeze in, giving a defeated sigh.

Disgust covered his mouth as he ran off to throw up. Anger and Sadness eyed Fear, while Joy looked at him shocked and confused. All Fear could do is stand there, tucking his hands under his arms.

----

It was afternoon, and Ian was in the back of a small group of students at a driving school near the high school.

“Okay, let’s not screw this up guys,” Disgust told the other emotions.

“Ian’s logged in plenty of hours with mom and her car,” Joy said optimistically, “he’s got this.” Joy glanced over at Fear, his arms beginning to tremble as he stared blankly up at the screen. “Right, Fear?”

“Huh?” Fear snapped out of it and fumbled with his sweatshirt. “Oh, right, right.”

“Driving test,” the driving instructor announced in her gravely gremlin tone. “Any volunteers?”

Anger slammed his fist down on a button. Ian’s hand shot up defiantly.

Before long, Ian was behind the wheel of one of the vehicles on loan from the driving school. He took a deep breath, trying to keep his composure, and it was working so far. Until he looked up at the highway before turning onto the onramp.

Sadness glanced over as he saw Fear walking up next to Anger. While Anger was at the controls, helping Ian stay focused, Fear kept his eyes on the screen, placing one hand on the edge of the console.

At the top of the onramp, Ian glanced over his shoulder. The cars sped by at a speed much too fast for Fear to comprehend, causing him to shiver.

“Just merge into traffic,” the driving teacher instructed.

“Yeah, in a minute,” Ian nearly sputtered, trying to focus on the road.

Anger growled, trying to find a gap in the traffic for Ian to merge into. He was defiant to get this done, but was struggling as Ian seemed to veer out faster than Anger could let him veer in. “What’s wrong with this kid?” Anger spat, not knowing Fear now has both hands on the console, gripping the edge tightly.

“Just merge into traffic!” the instructor now shouted.

Fear’s instincts kicked in. “ABORT!!” he ordered as he grabbed the controls, causing Anger to back away.

“I’m not ready!” Ian shouted.

“Pull over,” the instructor told Ian.

“Oh come on!” Anger snapped, storming off.

“Fear, what was that?” Disgust snapped at him.

Joy stepped between them. “That- that- that- that, was, uhmm… yeah, we’ll try again next time,” he said, running out of excuses.

Fear couldn’t hear them as he saw the driving instructor write something down on her notepad. Seeing the failure get written down in Ian’s files just made Fear hang his head.

----

The final bell rang, the students filtered out to the front of the school. While many began to leave either by ride, by bus, or by walking, some stayed behind. A few students were some members of the science club, chatting away at the entrance of the school. Ian just tried to casually stand on the sidewalk nearby, alone.

“Okay gang, third time’s the charm,” Joy cheered, trying to boost everyone’s downbeat spirits. “We can still turn this day around if we get some guests for Ian’s party. Disgust?”

“I got this. Follow my lead.” Disgust took the lead at the controls, with Joy assisting. Outside, Ian was thinking out loud what to say, jotting down key words for his prepared invitation on his hand. Figuring out what Disgust was planning, Fear stood up from his seat on the couch, took out his notebook and made some notes of his own.

“No Joy, no one says dudes anymore,” Disgust corrected. “Try gang.”

“Got it.” Joy flipped a switch or two on the console, a yellow memory orb rolled out into short term memory with a vision of the notes on Ian’s hand. “Okay, let’s do this!”

“And you,” Disgust snapped her attention to Fear, “stay back.”

“Disgust!” Joy exclaimed in shock.

“Whatever.” Disgust took over at the console.

Ian walked up to the students, trying to remain calm and friendly. “Hey, what’s up gang?” he greeted them, getting their attention.

“Oh, uh, Ian, right?” one asked.

Ian was a little surprised by that. “Oh, I didn’t know you knew my… anyway…” Ian looked down at his hand. He froze when he realized it was glossy from sweating nervously, causing the notes on his hand to smear into an incoherent mess of ink.

“Wait, what happened?” Joy asked aloud.

Disgust glared at Fear, he stepped back. “I-it wasn’t me!” Fear replied, scared of the outcome without himself at the controls.

“It’s that stupid social anxiety thing again!” Disgust snapped, racing to the short term memory shelves.

“I thought the mind workers fixed that glitch!” Anger shouted in frustration.

“You can’t fix anxiety,” Sadness commented as Disgust loaded the yellow memory orb into the recall playback. The memory of Ian’s notes on his hands appeared onscreen, but the image was blurred to the point that it was illegible.

“Ugh, focus, Ian, focus,” Disgust thought aloud as she tried adjusting the memory orb.

“Anger, don’t smack it!” Joy shouted as she and Sadness ran over to help Disgust.

The console was unmanned, or unemotioned. This was Fear’s chance! He took out his notepad as he took his spot at the controls.

Ian immediately wrapped his sweaty hands to his side, not only to hide them, but to remain calm. It wasn’t working, however, as words seemed to fail him at the moment. “Uh, if you like parties… I was going to do a party- I mean, if you’re not doing anything tonight, and it’s okay if you are, and if you like cake, like I like cake, I have a cake… over, at my house?”

“Are you inviting us to a party?” the classmate asked.

“That’s the one,” Ian replied.

“Fear, get away from that console!!” Disgust shouted. Fear shrieked as he pulled his arms away and wrapped them around his sides. The emotions raced up to the console, Disgust watching in horror, then rage, when a few purple memories rolled into short term. “Ugh, Fear, you ruined everything!”

“Sure, we don’t have any plans,” the classmate told Ian with a polite smile.

The emotions watched as the other classmates nodded and agreed to the awkward invitation. Fear gave a sigh of relief, his hands falling to his sides. Joy couldn’t help but give a told you so smirk to Disgust. “See, Fear’s got this. And he got people to Ian’s party. What could happen?”

The oncoming sound of loud rock music and roaring engine coming in fast was enough to make Joy freeze up. Realizing that familiar sound, Fear went back into panic mode. “No no no no no no no…”

“No no no no no,” Ian whispered, watching Barley’s van careen across the road.

“Ha ha! Is that the birthday boy I see?” The van came to a screeching halt by the sidewalk, right by Ian and the classmates. Barley leaped out of the driver’s side, clad in that usual ridiculous Viking cosplay outfit he’s known to wear on some of his role playing game nights. “Behold, your chariot awaits!” he bellowed.

“Just ignore him,” Disgust told the other emotions. “Maybe he’ll go away.”

“That doesn’t work,” Sadness said.

“It better work this time,” Disgust snapped back.

“Sir Iandore of Lightfoot,” Barley called out, followed by blaring the van’s horn.

Anger roared furiously. “Ugh! Just take the hint!” Disgust snarled.

“It’s okay! I can handle this!” Joy took control.

“Barley, hey,” Ian finally replied. “We were just about to take the bus.”

“The bus? Nae!” Barley triumphantly continued. “I will give you and your companions transport upon Guinevere.”

“Uh, who’s Guinevere?” a student asked.

“My mighty steed.” Barley proudly placed his hand on his van. The small vibration was enough for the front bumper to fall right off. “Oh, that’s embarrassing,” he laughed off.

“No kidding,” Disgust replied sourly.

Joy glanced over at Fear, who was now squeezing his sides so tight he was creating creases in his sweatshirt. He whimpered softly, worry causing him to begin buckling under the pressure. “Now now, Joy tried to smooth things over. “It’s just Barley. We can handle this.”

“You got something on your face,” a classmate pointed out, with a smile that was trying to hold back a chuckle or two.

Ian placed a hand on his face, trying to wipe off what it could be. He pulled it back, only to realize it was the ink from his hand, and now it’s smeared all over his face.

Fear couldn’t take it anymore! He pushed Joy out and he stepped in.

“You know, I just remembered, my birthday is, uh, cancelled,” Ian said quickly. “Complete misunderstanding. Gotta go. Bye.” Ian quickened his pace towards the van, trying to get out of there as soon as possible.

Fear’s quickened breaths finally slowed. He gradually looked to his left then his right, catching the gaze and glares of the other emotions. He swallowed harshly before stepping back from the console.

“That’s it!” Anger began to march right up to Fear.

“No no no no no no!” Joy grabbed Anger and Disgust by their arms and ran off shouting out. “Let’s have a meeting! Emergency meeting! Right now! Sadness, Fear, watch Ian please!” The three disappeared from sight as they ran into a short hallway into the break room.

Fear couldn’t help it as he ran that direction, slowing his steps until he stopped by the entrance to the hallway. The break room had no door, so the three emotions were keeping their voices to a dull whisper. But soon Fear could make out an angry and a disgusted voice commenting things like “he’s falling apart… he can’t take it anymore, I can’t take it anymore… he’s worthless… Ian’s better off without him…” Sighing in defeat, Fear placed his back against the wall and slid down to a sitting position on the floor.

After Ian was seated in the van, Sadness looked over at Fear. With Ian fine for a while, Sadness approached the purple emotion sprawled out on the floor. “Hey… are you okay?”

“Yes… no…” Fear closed his eyes and rubbed them with his hands. “I don’t know…”

“It’s okay to be sad,” Sadness told him.

“For you it is,” Fear almost snapped back, before recoiling back into a worried depression. “Sorry, it’s just… a very bad day…”

Sadness nodded, he sat down next to Fear. A moment or two of silence passed, Sadness sitting with his hands held at his sides, and Fear looking away from Sadness, keeping to his own pity. Eventually, Sadness lowered his hands, placing one on Fear’s hand. A soft sniffle caused Fear’s slender nose to scrunch up a tad, before a tear dropped from his eye.

“I’m not doing a good job lately,” Fear finally admitted to Sadness. “Or… maybe I am… maybe I’m doing too good a job… I mean… I-I’m trying to do my part too, I’m trying to help Ian…” Sadness nodded. “I don’t know what’s gotten over me… things have gotten way too stressful for Ian, and now Joy told me you guys were talking about me behind my back…”

“Joy told you?” Sadness asked.

Fear immediately looked over at Sadness with shocked eyes. “What did you say?”

Sadness confirmed, “You said Joy told you?”

“I said that?” Fear took a double take as he heard the other emotions approaching. He shifted so he was kneeling in front of Sadness. “Don’t tell the others about this.”

“I-“

“Please please please.” Fear placed his hands together, begging.

Sadness nodded. “Okay.”

“Thank you.” Fear stood up, giving Sadness a hand up as well. “Let’s get back to the console before they see us.”

“See us doing what?”

“Shh!”

----

Ian dragged his feet across his bedroom floor, dropping his dad’s sweatshirt onto a hope chest next to his desk. He flopped himself down at his desk, he took the small notebook out of his pocket. One by one, Ian crossed out the things on his list. Speak up more. Crossed out. Learn to drive. Crossed out. Invite people to party. Crossed out. Be like dad…

Ian hesitated, but admitted defeat. Crossed out.

Fear crossed out ‘be like dad’ on his list as well before sadly putting his notebook away.

The air in Headquarters was thick with silence and tension. Joy, Sadness and Disgust watched the screen, while Fear hung his head, and Anger eyed Fear with a scowl.

“That’s it,” Anger finally spoke up.

“Anger,” Joy told him, “you promised we wouldn’t talk about this.”

“Well I am talking about it!” Anger spat. He forcefully pointed a finger at Fear’s direction. “This guy is nothing but trouble!”

“Finally,” Disgust rolled his eyes.

“He’s not trouble,” Joy said, trying to crack a joke. “He’s a Fear.”

“He’s a menace!” Anger barked. “We’re trying to do our jobs, and he keeps taking over!”

“Exactly!” Disgust snapped. “Ian can’t be Ian when he’s scared all the time!”

Fear backed away as they emotions stepped forward. They were all in their argument, but appeared to be gaining up on him. Anger and Disgust kept yelling, Joy kept trying to diffuse the fighting, Sadness could only get one word in once in a while before getting cut off. It was building and building, piling on Fear, becoming too much. He placed his hands under his arms and squeezed tightly, his nerve curled up until it was hidden in his blue hair. He closed his eyes shut, trying not to listen, trying not to be there. But it just kept growing.

“STOOOOOOOP!!”

Fear finally opened his eyes to see the emotions staring at him in shock. Did he… was he the one who said that?

A ping sounded. Fear turned to see Dad Island lit up and active. The emotions turned to the screen. They watched as Ian pulled a small audio cassette out of his desk drawer labeled “Dad”

“Ian’s doing the thing again,” Sadness said. The emotions approached the console, stood and watched. They knew this ritual all too well.

Ian placed the cassette in the tape player and pressed play. He rested his head onto his arms folded on his desk. He listened. Two voices on the tape. One was muffled, but the familiar voice of his mom. The other was clear as day, a voice that became familiar with each replay:

“… I think I got it… Hello? Hello?... Is that right?... Well, I’m trying to… ha ha ha, I know… Well, let’s find out… Okay, bye…”

The tape stopped. After a brief melancholy pause, Ian pressed rewind.

Joy smiled, looking like he was going to burst. “I love this part. This is my favorite part.” The other emotions gave a little chuckle as they continued to watch.

Ian pressed play. He lifted his head, looking up at the cork board on the wall in front of him, tacked on were a couple of old, random pictures of his dad that he found in storage around the house over the years. He looked at one with soft eyes, and a softer smile. “Hi, dad.”

The tape replied. “Hello? Hello?”

“It’s me, Ian.”

“Is that right?”

“Yeah, right. Did you have a good day?”

“Well, I’m trying to.”

“Yeah, me too. Though I could clearly use some help. Sure do wish I could spend a day with you sometime. There’s so much we could do. It’ll be a lot of fun.”

“Well, let’s find out.”

“Yeah, I’d love to. We could-“

“Okay, bye.” Click.

Ian’s face fell. “Yeah… bye.”

The emotions smiled their usual melancholy smiles, with Sadness wiping away his usual tears. They watched as Ian sat alone in his room, feeling alone. But the emotions were reminded from Ian’s ritual their purpose. Ian is never alone. He has them, they are Ian. Ian may not have a dad, and the emotions wished as hard as he did that he did. But the emotions will always be there to make Ian’s life as complete as possible.

Except, Fear was feeling something a little different today. He glanced back at Dad Island, at the small display of pictures, replicas of the same pictures Ian had tacked to his cork board. Dad was confident, dad was bold. And Fear… he’s a Fear. Fear gave an exhale as he shrugged his shoulders, feeling as lonely as Ian was in that very bedroom.

----

An hour passed. Ian was in the living room, sewing up the popped seam on dad’s old sweatshirt. Disgust was at the controls, Joy on one side of the console, Fear on the other, with Anger and Sadness sitting nearby on a couch. Disgust was doing just fine, and Fear knew that. But with each stitch, and that sewing needle, it looked so sharp, and Ian could prick his finger at any moment.

“I think-“ Fear began, but stopped when Disgust glared at him. Fear hugged himself for a minute, before stepping forward towards the console. “But what if-“ Disgust held his hand out to stop him, and Anger growled. Fear went back to placing his hands under his arms.

As Family Island lit up, Joy once again tried to cut the tension with a nice distraction. “Oh look, it’s mom.”

Laurel sat down on the couch next to Ian. “You must have learned from a sewing master,” she joked.

“Yeah, a very humble sewing master,” Ian replied, finishing the last stitch on the seam. He put the needle and thread away. Ian brushed a finger across the name Lightfoot, the emotions saw Dad Island light up. “What was dad like, when he was my age?” Ian asked Laurel. “Was he always super confident?”

“Oh, no,” Laurel replied. “It took him a while to figure out who he was.”

Ian looked down at nothing in particular. “I wish I met him.”

“Me too. But you know what?” Laurel placed a comforting hand on Ian’s shoulder to get him to look back up. “When your dad got sick, he fought as hard as he could to see you more than anything.”

Ian just looked away, no response. The emotions watched as his island of personality went dormant. They looked at each other, just as speechless as Ian was, not knowing what to say, what to do. Even Fear was at a loss.

“You know,” Laurel finally replied. “I have something for you. I was going to wait until after your cake, but I think you’ve waited long enough.”

Ian looked up curiously. “What is it?”

Laurel smiled, revealing her excitement after all these years. “It’s a gift… from your dad.”

The emotions were in as big of a daze of wonder as Ian was. Even Fear couldn’t believe his ears. The purple emotion finally pushed that one word question out of his quivering lips. “… dad?”

#pixar inside out #pixar onward #sir iandore of lightfoot #ian lightfoot #barley lightfoot #joy #sadness #anger #disgust #fear #inside onward

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