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dizzydennis · 3 years ago

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Super Sonic x Dr. Eggman (Sonic Channel Cover Story) - Part 2

Translator notes: This is the final chapter of the Sonic Channel Cover Stories. What an amazing conclusion and a must read for Sonic fans! This one was very, very difficult to translate, but I was giddy as I read the countless cool moments that happened. I hope you all enjoy and please understand that while my Japanese isn’t perfect, it has been a huge honor sharing these stories with the community.

From his own momentum, Sonic, who was now Super Sonic, avoided one swing and then two others from the iron ball that was moving at exhilarating speeds.

Every time Eggman swung the supergravity ball through space, an abnormal sensation of gravity grabbed the debris of nearby rubble. It became an ever-increasing orb of destruction against Sonic as it tore apart the ARK.

"Take this! TAKE THIS!"

Sonic wasn’t defeated just yet. While he evaded the Egg Graviton, Sonic used the bending gravity and was carried forcefully into Eggman. The plump doctor was sent flying!

"What's wrong, Sonic? You call that an attack? Are you scared!?"

"No way, you kidding me!? I was just having some fun with your neat new toy!"

"I’d regret losing here now ...! Even if you try to defeat me here, you’ll cause everything below to be engulfed in a sea of fire, right?"

Upon saying that, Eggman couldn’t help, but laugh at Sonic as it seems the tide of the battle was shifting.

"... I think you’re mistaken, Eggman!"

A familiar voice pop through both Sonic and Eggman’s communication devices.

"...!?"

The golden hedgehog and the mad doctor stopped their squall for a moment. The voice continued as if it was expecting Eggman to look into his Egg Mobile.

“Looks like you had your own satellite to control all your robots. Well, I’ve hacked and sabotaged it!”

It was the unmistakable voice of Sonic's best friend, Tails.

"What the hell ... !!!?? What is this ...!?"

Looking at the display on his console, Eggman’s face went frozen in shock. Instead of his troops moving forward, they were pushed back, almost entirely in certain areas. Eggman became furiously impatient.

Tails could sense this and acted even more triumphant.

“Your own radio jack requires a lot of energy. I could find it immediately with my Energy Detector 2.0!” Eggman, you stupidly used optical signaling instead of radio waves. Thanks to your miscalculations, I was even able to hack the radio output! … Then we mounted an incredible counterattack all over the world! Everyone was absolutely amazing!”

Sonic’s friends were assaulting Eggman’s robots as they were turning tail and running away. Sonic responded with a thumbs up pointed towards the planet below. Eggman was enraged!

"Nice job, Tails! I knew you could handle it!"

"These robots are so stupid! Oh yeah!"

On Angel Island, Knuckles was intercepting a robot army that was trying to secure the Master Emerald. His ancestral battle gloves had an incredible destructive power!

Knuckles knocked a bunch of bots back into an explosion as he turned to face more.

“Alright! Keep them coming!”

In Station Square, Amy stood at the entrance to Twinkle Park. She crushed them all with her Piko Piko Hammer!

"Remember, cute couples get in free, but disgusting couples are prohibited from entering!"

Cream helped everyone by flying to many different places as she aided evacuation efforts alongside Vector and the Chaotix Detective Agency.

The alien wisps were generously cooperating as the "Wispon" weapons where they could divert their superpowers. They were fighting with everyone all over the world.

The Egg Mobile’s strategic display showed numerous alerts. They all showed how the Eggman Army was being thwarted.

After erasing the display, Eggman pointed towards Sonic and shouted in an indomitable declaration.

“You’re always getting in my way! But this is far from over! It’s all still working within my parameters.”

"... Is that so? Thaaaaank you, Eggman. Isn’t this just a lovely example of you losing yet again?"

"You blasted—! ... Huh, you little rat. Let’s see if you can say that after I fire this bad boy!”

A blinding light spread behind Eggman as the Space Colony ARK’s main weapon, the Eclipse Cannon, finally fired.

<< BOOOOOOOOOM! >> >>

Even with an original output of only 0.5%, a tremendous torrent of energy around the turret charged into the atmosphere as a large pillar of light went towards the planet’s surface.

Sonic made an intense glance towards it; a look he had never given before.

He became tense for a moment.

"...!"

With that… a giant explosion would go off on the surface of the planet killing all who were caught in its wake ...

"............!?"

It didn't happen ... Eggman completely lost his temper and screamed.

"Why!? Why didn’t it go off!? This is the power of the Eclipse Cannon we’re dealing with!!"

The star-destroying laser of the Eclipse Cannon should have decimated a whole city and killed those below. However, it was stopped by a psychokinetic barrier formed by Silver the Hedgehog.

100 meters above the ground, Silver laughed as he floated in midair. People below him were cheering him on as his shield of light dissipated. As Silver held his hands towards the atmosphere above, he took in a breath of relief and smelled the air.

"Looks like you shot in the wrong place, Eggman!"

"Oh, that's it...! That moron messed it up! ... Alright! Then I'll just shoot it somewhere else! It should still be good for one more shot ..."

Eggman barked and hissed while mashing buttons on his console when suddenly a skillful intelligence officer and treasure hunter, Rouge the Bat, sent a message to him.

"Oh, sorry, sugar. Was that the Eclipse Cannon? I guess I just stopped it ♪"

"What the— !?"

The signal of Rouge’s communications was detected as being from the central control room of the Space Colony ARK.

“I was able to get here, thanks to that warp transfer device that was abandoned within Eggman Land! ♪ It seems the old doctor forgot about it! ♡”

"No no no no no no no! You little— Rouge! My elite robots should’ve been there ..."

<< KABOOOOM ...! >> >>

As if to block Eggman's voice, an explosion behind Rouge could be heard through the speaker.

Beyond the communicator, within the central control room of the ARK, the final robot met it’s end when stabbed with piercing yellow energy. From the smoke, a black shadow coldly stood as it grabbed Rouge’s communicator.

“That trash was rather unpleasant. I’ve disposed of it for you, Doctor.”

It was the distinct voice of Shadow the Hedgehog, a jet-black hedgehog.

"Was that Shadow!? No, this can’t be!!!!!”

... Sonic turned towards Eggman, who was completely unable to do anything as his face turned bright red!

“Now you know why I’m here. Now you know why we can’t let you do what you want to with this planet. Because it’s not just me on this planet, it’s all of “US!”

Sonic continued to approach the Egg Mobile, holding his hands and exerting his strength into a golden aura.

“It’s because of the people I’ve met, the people who supported me that I have become this Super Sonic before you. You’re not the kind of person who would understand the strength of these bonds…”

Sonic tried to make the final blow…

Eggman’s booming voice and the spirit of the Egg Graviton, erupted loudly as it entered maximum overdrive!

"Oh yeah!? You nuisance!"

The supergravity iron ball hit a gravity cylinder as Sonic dodged out of the way. Both the gravity generators and the cylinder interfered with one another and caused a terrifying explosion.

The iron ball was stuck within the gravity cylinder and the Egg Graviton started getting crushed under the inverted gravitational pull. Shaking left to right, Eggman screamed like a lunatic.

“What is this “US” you’re talking about!? What is this nonsensical bond!? Such ideas sound like the ramblings of an imbecile who took a hit to the head. You have no idea how a super genius with an IQ of 300 even thinks!”

Pulling the iron ball out, the Egg Graviton swung three more times. Eggman kept cutting through debris while approaching Sonic.

“You’ve been going on about that for so long now. Time after time, it’s always the same! You should be at my feet due to my superior scientific power!”

In times of desperation, everybody has always worked together to allow the world to keep spinning peacefully.

“I’ll use my power to reclaim this world! I’ll show you the ultimate utopia with a new Eggman Land!”

The next slash he took with his device cracked yet another gravity cylinder…! This time, the hit was more direct and caused another huge explosion.

Eggman’s malicious spirit and his insane speech were cut off.

For a moment, Sonic felt a strange emptiness and listened closely to Eggman. He was a little impressed with the man’s self-confidence, but when Sonic let off a smile, he simply shrugged his shoulders and put his palms facing up and replied:

"Great ... I guess you’re just a bit too genius for little ol’ me!"

In response to that, Eggman dropped the tone of his voice while attempting a deadly blow.

"Well, then allow me to finally get rid of you ..."

The Egg Graviton had been crushed, but it already sucked many pieces of the ARK and became huge; with a diameter of over 20 meters. It had become the “Super Special Gravitational Capturing Strike Iron Ball, Egg Graviton: Final Form.”

This final attack, shots at a super accelerated pace with a new gravity railgun. It would be difficult even for Super Sonic to avoid it. Even if it missed, one could still be caught in a crushing vacuum of gravity.

"Haha, that's a laugh. Why don’t you give it a try, Eggman!?"

Eggman looked at Sonic with his finger on the launch button. Sonic was no longer flying around as he leaned forward, emitting a golden power all over his body. Sonic glared at Eggman with an absolutely fearless smile.

"So, it’s a head-on fight now ... Is that how you want it, Sonic?"

"You're the one that’s hesitating… Is that how YOU want it, Eggman ..."

For a moment, it felt like a cold breeze had blown between the two.

Then, Eggman pushed the button. A roar of gravity shouted out of the railgun with an ear-piercing sound.

"Farewell, you simple-minded hedgehog!!!!"

Meanwhile......

Surrounded by brilliant cheerfulness and awe, the Sol Empire Royal Castle sat. It was a world different from Sonic and the others.

The world’s treasure, the Sol Emeralds, began to quiver as if singing. They emitted seven colors of light.

When the guards noticed the anomaly, they looked up at their lord.

Princess Blaze the Cat, the guardian of the Sol Emeralds, held her hand over the singing Sol Emeralds and gave a sigh of relief as she returned to her throne.

She continued, as if to reassure her guards.

"It’s no problem. Don’t worry."

Then, returning to her office, she squinted and muttered.

"I think I’m going to be hearing about an exceptional experience soon."

As we return, the jet-black emptiness of space sat silent. As if sound and even time had disappeared.

Above Sonic, two mechanical egg-shaped pods floated.

"Naughty, naughty Eggman!!"

An golden arrow of light pierced the Egg Graviton as well as the Egg Mobile that carried Eggman. He stopped and looked back at the vague energy-silhouette of a hedgehog as he muttered.

"Y’know, I never thought of my simple-mindedness as a weakness.”

A big explosion occurred immediately afterwards. A huge amount of energy was released from the Egg Mobile and light shot out.

It could be seen from the ground on the planet.

"NOOOOOOOOO! Next time…. Next time will be different! I’ll never forgive you!”

Eggman suddenly escaped within an escape pod and disappeared from sight.

As if they knew Sonic’s fight was over, the Chaos Emeralds left his body and flew around the world.

Sonic returned to his original blue self. He didn’t panic or reach for the emeralds. He blinked slowly once as he saw them fly around the curvature of the planet. He smiled in satisfaction.

When will seven emeralds and one giant talking egg bring a new adventure to Sonic again…?

As he fell, Sonic looked to the ground below and saw that the battles had all subsided.

Very far from the edge of his sights, Sonic saw a long blue trail. It seemed that Metal Sonic had gone to recover Dr. Eggman. The rematch with him after his repairs were complete was probably not too far off.

As soon as Sonic felt that excitement, he sprawled his limbs outward and slowly closed his eyes as he fell towards the planet even more.

"... Well, I thought you could use a little help!"

It was Tails, who caught Sonic on the wings of the red biplane, the "Tornado." It was once again outfitted with a jet booster.

“We seriously have the kind of relationship where you just knew to get up here without me saying anything, huh?”

“It was hard to get past all the destruction from your little spat in space! I’m glad I happened to modify the gravity cylinders to take care of all that debris.”

The Tornado went down in altitude, as the two heroes enjoyed their playful conversation.

Below their eyes was a beautiful, blue horizon.

One story is now over... and the world is calmly waiting for the blue hedgehog and many other heroes as they prepare for a fresh, new adventure.

#Sonic the Hedgehog #Doctor Eggman #Miles Tails Prower #Shadow the Hedgehog #Silver the Hedgehog #SEGA

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bluenadesu · 4 years ago

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.You're the chubby manager of inzarizaki, about to confess to Osamu when you find out something that completely crushes you

•You prepared a love letter as a confession. Tacky, you know but honestly you just had so much in you you needed to pour out. and you weren't sure you can do it without fumbling over your words and embarrassing yourself.

• so a letter it is

• as you wrote the letter all you could think of was Osamu — obviously — and the precious memories you've made in the last few weeks.

• the playful bantering, the compliments

• "are yer cheek mochi? Cause I'd love to bite them"

"Osamu!"

• kind treatment, little gifts in the form of a bento he made just for you, new recipes he's made with you in mind. And they all taste so good, probably because he made sure to make them with your taste in mine. Your cheek still feels hot every time you think back on it.

• you weren't one to assume, if you weren't sure someone liked you back. You'd never take the risk and confess, you don't think you can bear it. you're still the manager, what if Osamu rejected you? How could you keep interacting with him? With the rest of the team? but with everything Osamu doing. There's just no possible way you're misunderstanding all of this.

•You could still remember the exact moment you realized you were in love. Osamu had invited you to his house to just hang out with him and Atsumu. Except Atsumu was busy so it was just you two. And to break the silence you had asked him to teach you how to cook.

• You guys settled on making onigiris and cookies. A weird mix but you argued that naturally after something salty you need something sweet and Osamu reluctantly agreed

•You remembered balling the rice when Osamu reached out and picked off a rice piece off your cheek and ate it. Laughing at your bashful face.

•when you had gotten to making the cookie batter you snatched some to eat

•Osamu scolded you but you know he wasn't truly upset considering the smile. "There's raw eggs in there! Ya could get salmonella!"

• You laughed and waved him off, trying to get your cookie dough-covered finger into your mouth despite him standing behind you and grabbing your arms to stop you. "Aw, cmon just one won't hurt!"

•"No ya can't!" He stuck your hand under the faucet and washed the cookie dough and you pouted.

•it was then, that you realized how close you were. Your back pressed to his warm chest and his breath fanning over your ear. You held your breath. Strangely praying you'd stay like that if only for a few more seconds.

• but the cookie dough completely washed off and unfortunately you had to separate at some point, when you felt the disappointment washing over you, you realized what you were feeling.

• ✨ l o v e ✨

• So this leads you here. A letter in your hand. Ready to confess

• you were nervously looking for Osamu to give him the letter but lucky you, Atsumu found you instead.

•ofc Atsumu wouldn't be Atsumu if he didn't tease you a bit after noticing the letter but you paid him no mind. Waving off his teasings with a hot face and a pounding heart.

• until he said something that caught your attention.

•"wow looks like he really went through with that bet huh." And he said something even quieter under his breath that you didn't catch.

• you were already anxious, thinking about all the ways this could go wrong. Yeah, the signs were all there but what if somehow, 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘩𝘰𝘸 you misread them?

• and well, what Atsumu said only gave you a bad feeling that stuck no matter how much you tried to shake it off. Especially as he evades your questions and heads inside.

• you get an idea and hide away your love letter for now. Going over to Suna.

•"Hey Suna! Can you show me the video of the bet?" If it's Suna, surely he'd have a video somewhere. He turns stiff and tries to play dumb.

•You rolled your eyes playfully. "No need to hide it from me, Atsumu already told me all about it, I'm not hurt or anything. I just wanna watch the video."

• he raised a brow. " Really? You're not hurt?"

•So it's something to be hurt about. Your anxiety rises but you stifle it and smile

•He hesitates for a second before shrugging and pulling out his phone. Turning it to you once he found the video.

• he gets called to practice and you reassure him you'll return the phone to his bag once you're finished with it and play the video as he leaves

• You skip forward until a particular moment caught your eye. You rewind a bit and play the video.

• "𝘰𝘩 𝘰𝘩 𝘪 𝘨𝘰𝘵 𝘢 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳 '𝘚𝘢𝘮𝘶!" 𝘖𝘴𝘢𝘮𝘶 𝘨𝘳𝘰𝘢𝘯𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘯 𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘱𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘦. "𝘛𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘤𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘦𝘭𝘭." 𝘈𝘵𝘴𝘶𝘮𝘶 𝘭𝘢𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘦𝘥 𝘥𝘦𝘷𝘪𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘩𝘭𝘺. "𝘈𝘸 𝘤𝘮𝘰𝘯, 𝘪𝘵 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭. 𝘉𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘦𝘷𝘦 𝘮𝘦. 𝘐𝘮 𝘨𝘰𝘯𝘯𝘢 𝘱𝘪𝘤𝘬 𝘥𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘺𝘢."

• "𝘺𝘢 𝘤𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘱𝘪𝘤𝘬 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘮𝘦-"

• "'𝘚𝘢𝘮𝘶! 𝘐 𝘥𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘺𝘢 𝘵𝘰 - " 𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘦𝘥, 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘥𝘳𝘢𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘤 𝘦𝘧𝘧𝘦𝘤𝘵 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘦 𝘖𝘴𝘢𝘮𝘶 𝘳𝘰𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘦𝘺𝘦𝘴. "𝘔𝘢𝘬𝘦 (𝘠/𝘕) 𝘧𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘪𝘯 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘺𝘢!"

• Your heart dropped. The sound of the balls and the shouts disappearing until all you could hear was the video audio.

•"𝘩𝘢?! 𝘕𝘰 𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘴𝘵𝘶𝘱𝘪𝘥 𝘈𝘵𝘴𝘶𝘮𝘶!"

•" 𝘋𝘰𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬 𝘺𝘢 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘥𝘰 𝘪𝘵 𝘩𝘶𝘩?" 𝘈𝘵𝘴𝘶𝘮𝘶 𝘤𝘰𝘰𝘦𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘴𝘤𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘭𝘺 𝘢𝘵 𝘖𝘴𝘢𝘮𝘶. 𝘞𝘩𝘰 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘢𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘣𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘢𝘤𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘱𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘦. "𝘕𝘰 𝘸𝘢𝘺, 𝘈𝘵𝘴𝘶𝘮𝘶. 𝘪𝘮 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘥𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴."

•"𝘰𝘩 𝘤𝘮𝘰𝘯, 𝘪𝘧 𝘺𝘢 𝘥𝘰𝘯𝘵 𝘥𝘰 𝘪𝘵 𝘪 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭!" 𝘖𝘴𝘢𝘮𝘶 𝘨𝘭𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘵 𝘈𝘵𝘴𝘶𝘮𝘶. "𝘍𝘪𝘯𝘦. 𝘍𝘪𝘯𝘦! 𝘖𝘬𝘢𝘺, 𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘥𝘰 𝘪𝘵. 𝘐𝘭𝘭 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘧𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘪𝘯 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘮𝘦. 𝘐𝘵𝘭𝘭 𝘣𝘦 𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘺 𝘢𝘯𝘺𝘸𝘢𝘺𝘴."

•Atsumu grinned and opened his mouth to say something but you couldn't continue watching.

•By now the tears made it a little hard to see as you closed the phone and returned it to the bag. Your lip wobbled and you bit it to stop it.

• oh. Oh god you, he. How could-

• if you weren't in public, in the gym with Osamu in the same room no less you would've broken down sobbing

• you felt so-so humiliated, ashamed, angry, upset, everything negative emotion in the book if you were being honest!

• you felt so embarrassed you didn't know how to even face the team, let alone Osamu. God you've must've looked so 𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘺 to them. So ridiculous. So easily swayed, as Osamu had said. It was so easy for him to get you to fall in love with him.

• Fortunately..well, if that could even be said considering what happened so far, the team was practicing so you went over to the coach and excused yourself with the excuse that your stomach hurt.

• It's only when you were in the silent comfort of your room that you stopped biting the inside of your cheeks to the point of bleeding and let the tears wreck you.

• God! You were literally being played around by Osamu — no, by the whole team and didn't even realize it! A bet? It was like you were some tragic Wattpad story heroine except there was no handsome man to come and salvage your broken heart. Rather he'll come just to laugh at it.

• You felt the love letter in your pocket and pulled it out. Letting out a watery laugh. "Well, at least I didn't humiliate myself further by giving him this huh?" Then you turn deathly silent. Holding your breath as you stared at the letter. All the memories passing through your head causing your heart to ache more and more by the second and making the letter look like a menace.

• You realized all the "precious" memories you had were all probably just ploys to get you to like him. And hats off to him cause it worked.

• For almost a week, every time you thought you were ready to go back to school. You'd think of Osamu and lose all your confidence

•To think you were actually so delusional, thinking the oh so great Osamu was in love with you. Ha!

• you've gotten several calls from the team, all of them asking where you were and why you weren't attending schools. But the one who called and texted the most was Osamu. Surprisingly.

• "how nice of him to waste his time and call lil old me" you muttered sarcastically as you muted your phone and rolled back to sleep. Curling up and trying your best not to think about what happened.

• it was when exactly a week passed that someone knocked at your door. At first, you had assumed it was your mom, she had just gone to the supermarket so maybe she had forgotten something. You didn't bother checking the peephole, instead opening the door in your disheveled state. Hair messy, eyebags as dark as the night, mismatched pajamas, ice cream in one hand, and a blanket draped over your body.

• you've never regretted something so much in your life

•okay no you regretted thinking you had a chance with Osamu the most but this came a close second.

• " 'Samu?"

Well shit just how many times are you gonna embarrass yourself in front of him? There has to be some limit, can't god pity you a bit?

"..Ya look like shit" you're pretty sure a vein just popped in your forehead as you slammed the door on his face. Or, tried to, at least. He stuck his foot in at the last second slammed his hand against the door to stop you. "Wait wait I'm joking ya look fantastic!"

You growled, hating yourself for the way your lips twitched up for a second before your anger came back tenfold. "shut up Osamu and get out."

"I'm not even inside yet" he cheekily pointed and you huffed in frustration. Opening the door widely and not even caring about how you look like at the moment. You were just so done, emotionally and physically. "What do you want Osamu? Why are you bothering?"

"Because i — "

"I know about the bet and lemme just tell you, I have good news for you! You won! You won the damn bet okay? I fell in love with you, aren't you happy? Fat manager of inzarizaki head over heels in love with the great Osamu charm. But I guess that's not much of an achievement. You said it yourself, I'm so 𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘺 after all aren't it?" You couldn't stop, all the pain and the hatred you felt for him and yourself spilling out. All the words you've wanted to say just flowing from your lips in a mess of emotions. Osamu looked pained but you couldn't care less, he should feel pained. For what he made you go through. For the cycle of self-doubt, the feeling of not being enough, of being played with that plagued you for the past week. You tightened the blanket around your body self consciously. Not seeing how it didn't escape Osamu's attention how you did so. He reached for you but you took a step back.

" That's not — "

"Now go back to your team and tell them. Laugh up how made me look like the fool. I'm glad it's amusing to you how much I'm in pain — "

"Would ya shut up for a damn second?" You turned quiet. Never thinking he'd shut you up like that, but before your shock could fade away and you'd scream your head off with anger. He continued speaking. "Did ya watch the rest of the video?" You scoffed, insulted.

"no? Why would i-"

"Then ya'd know how much i like ya." He stepped closer and you took a step back again. He pulled out his phone and pointed the screen at you after turning on the video.

"𝘐𝘵𝘭𝘭 𝘣𝘦 𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘺 𝘢𝘯𝘺𝘸𝘢𝘺𝘴" you gritted your teeth at those words and reached forward to shove the phone away. Not trusting yourself not to cry if you continued watching. "Osamu I don't want — "

"Just watch." His voice softened. "Please, for me." You glanced up into his soft eyes. So stupid and so sincere and 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘺.

Goddamnit you were 𝘴𝘰 in love.

Your eyes drifted back to the video as it continued. Atsumus teasing voice loud and gleeful. "𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘺 𝘩𝘶𝘩? 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘣𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘺 𝘢𝘴 𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘺 𝘢𝘴 𝘥𝘳𝘰𝘰𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘴𝘩𝘦𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘢 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘴𝘪𝘤𝘬 𝘱𝘶𝘱𝘱𝘺! 𝘺𝘢 𝘨𝘶𝘺𝘴 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘢𝘵 𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵. 𝘏𝘦 𝘤𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘱 𝘨𝘶𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘩𝘦𝘳, 𝘰𝘩 (𝘠/𝘕) 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘴𝘰 𝘤𝘶𝘵𝘦 𝘵𝘰𝘥𝘢𝘺 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘩 (𝘠/𝘕) 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘮𝘺 𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘤𝘪𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘮𝘢𝘥𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘰 𝘮𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘐'𝘮 𝘴𝘰 𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘺 𝘪 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘤𝘳𝘺!"

Osamu's face looked so flushed. Both in the video and real life. But your face burned just as hot as you slowly started to piece things together. "𝘐-𝘪 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘴𝘢𝘪𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵!"

"𝘮𝘢𝘺𝘣𝘦 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘦 𝘦𝘹𝘢𝘤𝘵 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥𝘴."

"𝘚𝘩𝘶𝘵 𝘶𝘱 𝘛𝘴𝘶𝘮𝘶!" 𝘰𝘴𝘢𝘮𝘶 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘶𝘱 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘭𝘦𝘧𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘨𝘺𝘮. 𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘳𝘢 𝘸𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘵𝘰 𝘢𝘵𝘴𝘶𝘮𝘶. 𝘞𝘩𝘰 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘪𝘯 𝘦𝘹𝘢𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯. "𝘖𝘧 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘴𝘦 𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘢𝘨𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘴 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘪 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦 (𝘠/𝘕) 𝘢𝘴 𝘪𝘧 𝘪 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘴 𝘢𝘵 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘶𝘯𝘨 𝘶𝘱 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘢𝘮𝘯 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘴." 𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘯𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘦𝘥.

This time, although you shed tears again, it was for completely different reasons. Osamu cupped your chubby cheeks and turned your head to look at him. A fond look in his eyes stole your breath away. "I like ya, (Y/N), so so much. I love all the banters and teasing. I love it when ya get embarrassed when I call ya nicknames. I love yer beautiful smile, I love yer pretty eyes. But most of all I love yer gorgeous personality. Yer such a sweetheart and I practically fell in love with ya since we first met." He tucked a strand of your messy hair behind your ear. Looking at you like you were the most beautiful girl. For a second you wondered if you two saw the same person. If you didn't know any better you'd think you were actually decked out in your best outfit.

"Even when I told ya how passionate I am about cooking and that I wanted to start a restaurant. Ya never once made fun of me. In fact, ya encouraged me to go for it and said I'd be great at it and ya have no idea how much that meant to me." He gently kissed your forehead. "I can never hurt ya like this yn, I love ya too much. The bet may have been what pushed me to finally make a move but believe me, I loved ya way before that."

Well damn what could you say to that? You swallowed your sobs down and gently pushed him away. Not noticing Osamu's face turning into one of disappointment. You shoved the ice cream into his hands and went upstairs without a word. Leaving Osamu confused. You searched the cabinets in a hurry and pulled out what you were looking for. Pausing at the mirror to at least straighten your hair down to the best of your ability before you went down the stairs. Taking the ice cream from osamus hands and replacing it with your love letter. "I like you too. So much, I was actually planning to confess but then I heard Atsumu mentioning something about a bet. "Osamu's face darkened considerably as he let out a growl.

"That dumbass — "

"It's a little too late to get angry at him Osamu." You laughed a bit, missing the way his eyes softened as he looked at you. "Besides it's good that it came out now and not later. I like you Osamu. And if you genuinely like me back — "

"I do. I really do." He cupped your cheek and you smiled at him. Stepping closer and placing your hand over his. "Then that's good." You both smiled at each other.

"Can I kiss you?"

"..Yeah."

Bonus:

"..are yer lips a lollipop, cause I wanna suck on them."

"...You just completely ruined the moment thanks."

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thr-333 · 4 years ago

Text

Drastic Measures- Part 8

@daminette-december2019-2020

~Wind~

It’s just a nice day in Gotham, like always.

Ao3

First< Previous > Next

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

“You know what?” Ladybug says to Chat as they both take shelter from the wind, “I really hate Gothams weather,”

“It’s fine Ladybug,” Chat jokes, daring to look around the building only to hide again with severely windswept hair, "Just don't go into hibernation,”

“I might just watch me,”

“You there!” they both look over to see an officer pointing a gun at them, “Leave! Let the pros handle this!”

“Excuse me! We are the pros!” Ladybug snaps despite their cowering behind a building from wind.

“But if you want to try take over your welcome to it!” Chat Noir yells, grabbing Ladybug and leaving their shelter before they got shot. They get thrown back into the wind, blown back a few steps. They hold onto each other working together to reach the Akuma hiding in a self-made tornado.

“Do you think someone was just as mad at the weather as I am!?” Ladybug yells over the wind, trying to throw her yo-yo only for it to get blown back in her face.

“Well, I have to say this is kind of a step-down!” Chat shouts, trying to poke his staff through the tornado getting jerked to the side, only saved by Ladybug catching him, “Stormy Weather could control all sorts of weather,”

“Yeah and almost started several global catastrophes!”Ladybug pulls him back down to the ground, both crouching down.

“Well, maybe we need some luck before there's another!”

“You got it,” Ladybug nods, gearing up to throw her yoyo, “Lucky charm!”

The lucky charm is immediately blown away.

“... Maybe we should have done that further away,” Chat muses.

“You think so?” Ladybug sighs, “Maybe the city road maintenance could use some bad luck?”

“Oh I get what you're putting down,” Chat grins, “Cata-”

“Help!” The look towards the cry, a couple of officers and their car getting pulled up to the sky.

“Looks like they took you up on your offer,” Ladybug deadpans, running over to them with a tailwind.

“I was trying to make a joke!” Chat Noir jumps up catching the two and getting carried off by the wind.

“Trying,” Ladybug throws her yoyo out wrapping it around Chat and pulling him and the officers down.

“Well how about we try making a new manhole?” Chat Noir places the officers on the ground, they duck down getting pressed to the road by the winds.

“That's all you Kitty!” Ladybug shelters the police long enough they can grab onto a lamp post.

“Cataclysm!” Chat Noir hits the ground, lowering the level of destruction to a smaller radius. He keeps it activated until the hole is big enough for them to drop down into. Ladybug sticks close to him as they tunnel under the tornado.

“Do we know where the Akuma is?”

“Why don’t you brainstorm?” Chat says with slight irritation, “Kinda trying to focus,”

“Sorry,” Ladybug cringes, keeping quiet for him.

“Here should be good,” Chat Noir says, turning to point his hand up and make their way back to the surface. They pop up in the eye of the tornado everything calm but wind gushing around them. Marinette throws out her yo-yo unimpeded catching the floating Akuma's legs and pulling them to the ground.

“YoU!” The Akuma lashes out at her with a fan, a slight flick, and Ladybug is blown back into the tornado.

“Chat! The fan!” Ladybug tries to pull herself back into the calm but the winds are too strong, she only prevents not being blown away by her yoyo still wrapped around the Akuma's legs.

“On it! Cataclysm repeat!” He calls on it again grabbing the fan and turning it to dust. The storm calms and Ladybug lands on her feet getting the leverage she needs to grab the butterfly and purify it.

“Bye bye little butterfly,”

“No to be the bearer of bad news,” Chat Noir half whispers to her, “But we're out of the pot and into the fire,”

Ladybug looks around to see the police starting to form a shaky barricade around them, it's easy enough to evade if the batclan wasn't blocking every viable exit.

“So police or Batman?”

“I honestly can’t deal with his high and mighty routine right now,” Ladybug sighs still chilled to the bone from the wind, “Police,”

She walks over with purpose to the man she had researched was the commissioner; Gordon. On her way she finds a spotted item lying on the side of the road. So that's where her lucky charm went. A fan, cute.

“Miraculous ladybug!” Ladybug stands before commissioner Gordon, whom she knew had to have dealings with Batman, he marvels at the repairing ladybugs until she gets his attention, “You want to talk sir?”

“You finally want to talk to me?” He asks instead, almost good naturally if tired like he was used to it. Definitely had dealings with Batman.

“If I wanted to hear get out of my city and leave this to me I would just record him,” Ladybug gets Chat to chuckle, not the commissioner but she can tell he wants to, “What did you want to talk about?”

“Your a hero unaffiliated with the Justice League or any government,” The commissioners lays out, “In other words, you're a vigilante and I don’t know if you can be trusted with Gotham's safety, Batmans been around for years he’s a vigilante but he does protect the city, so why are you here?”

“I understand your concerns sir, but unfortunately this isn’t a matter of borders or what city each hero protects, the villain hawkmoth can only be stopped by us or other miraculous users, so even if you dont approve we will continue to operate even if we have to fight the police along the way,” Ladybug says with all the confidence, hoping to also portray that she really dosent want to, “As for trust we operated in Paris for years, we have the trust to the citizens and officials, if you want a reference call the chief of police or the Mayor we have worked under the approval of both,”

“I will, thank you Ladybug,”

“No problem,” Her earring beeps, “Now if you’ll excuse us, bug out,”

They jump up, using their skills to reach the rooftops.

“Oh man I forgot about this guy,” Chat complains as Batman is right there when they land.

“Ladybug-”

“Yes leave the city, yes I’m not needed here, thank you I’ve heard it before,” Ladybug tries to just walk past him but Robin lands in her way, “You know we have to stop meeting like this, wouldn't you prefer a nice dinner date?”

Robin makes a choking sound which must be offended. Chat laughs, coming to lean on her shoulder.

“We’ve traded places bug-a-boo,”

“Heh,” She smirks at the old nickname, “bird-a-boo,”

Robin completely freezes, giving them the chance to run by, he doesn't even react, until she calls.

“Later bird-a-boo~”

It’s an interesting reaction.

---

“You seem distracted,” Marinette tells Damian, both working separately together in their study.

“I’M NOT!”

“Oh forgive me, clearly you are completely relaxed,” Marinette rolls her eyes, pinning a new design to the wall.

“Heh there must be a pretty girl in his life,” Adrien smirks from the seat he stole from her earlier.

“Why are you even here?!” Damian snaps, taking the papers Adrien was shifting through.

“You didn’t deny it~”

“Oh is there someone?” Marinette ignores the sick feeling for plastered cheerfulness, “Tell us about her,”

“It’s none of your business!” Damina snatches some more papers from the desk and storms out, blushing all the while.

“Don’t be embarrassed!” Marinette calls after him letting go of her gratefulness she didn’t have to hear about her, she says quieter, “I bet she’s super cool,”

“I’m noticing a pattern with you Marinette,” Adrien hums, her sketchbook now taking up his attention.

“Adrien I was madly in love with you for like a year and you didn’t realize so I highly doubt you can notice a thing,” Marinette takes her book from him, whacking him lightly with it.

“Right back at you bug,” Adrien tries to snatch it back from her only to get pushed back.

“Flirting doesn't count,” Marinette rolls her eyes, putting her book safely on the shelf, “No one can tell if you’re serious,”

“Is that so~” Adrien hums, “What about Robin?”

“I’m not flirting with him,” Marinette rolls her eyes, gathering up some fabric to start her next project.

“You so are ,” Adrien accuses, outraged.

“I am not!” She slams the fabric down on the desk and turns to him.

“So are,” Adrien smirks sinking back into the seat.

“I don’t even know him,” Marinette rolls her eyes again it's scary how much that's becoming second nature at this point.

“You could~”

“Adrien!”

--------

No tag list sorry, I’m horrible at keeping track of them :P

#miraculous #miraculous ladybug fic #miraculous ladybug #miraculous fanfic #MLB #ML #ml fic #Marinette #miraculous marinette #badass marinette #maribat #daminette

170 notes · View notes

siancore · 4 years ago

Photo

Title: Cupcakes and Compromise

Pairing: Carol Danvers x Maria Rambeau

Square Filled: Nightmares

Content: PTSD; Love Scene

Words: 2,008

AO3 Link

Carol’s been gone for three months, and back just a week into her one month of leave. A week is not much time in the grander scheme of things, but the small moments are what she cherishes. Mundane domestic things are special to her. Not so much the fighting off threats and saving the universe: That’s a job she does gladly to protect those she loves. To protect Maria and Monica.

She has seen things other people can only dream of. Things that others have only seen in their nightmares, but when she is home, in their small house in Louisiana, none of the other stuff matters. All she can focus on is what’s right in front of her.

Presently, she is focused on the soft moans escaping Maria’s lips. Focused on the warmth that is enveloping her fingers as she curls them deftly. As sweat drips from her heated skin and mingles with Maria’s. As their lips come together. As their breathing quickens. As they whisper one another’s names in the dimly lit room while their pleasure washes over them. As they find their sweet release. As they lay together, sated and happy, a tangle of glistening limbs tethered to one another by the persistent thrumming of their hearts.

Maria rests her head on Carol’s shoulder as Carol strokes her hand over Maria’s hair.

“God, I love your hair like this,” says Carol, pressing the pads of her fingers to the soft curls.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Thank you, baby,” Maria replies. “Glad I went natural. So much more manageable, to be honest Looks good, too.”

“You always look great,” Carol compliments. “It’s like every time I come home, the kid’s grown a few inches more, or you’re lookin’ even more radiant.”

“Don’t have to butter me up, Danvers,” says Maria as she tickles Carol’s side, causing her to squirm. “I already gave you some.”

They both laugh and Carol holds Maria tighter.

“I know, it’s just that I promised myself I’d tell you how beautiful you are every time the thought crosses my mind,” Carol admits, before kissing Maria’s forehead. “My work has me away from the two of you so much that I gotta make every moment here count.”

Maria is silent a beat, before she leans up on her elbow and glances down at Carol.

“You know you don’t always have to make grand gestures, right?” she asks as she places her hand over Carol’s heart. “It’s the little things that mean the most to us. Like the cupcakes you’re makin’ with the baby girl tomorrow.”

Carol smiles and says, “Oh, yeah. Can’t wait for the cupcakes. Still can’t believe Earth is the only planet that does cupcakes in the whole galaxy.”

“I know, right? It’s a cryin’ shame.”

Later, after the lights are off and the overhead fan hums quietly, Carol is drawn from her slumber by a tossing and turning beside her. Unintelligible murmurs slip from Maria’s lips as she thrashes about in their bed.

Carol reaches for her, ever so gently, placing a tentative hand to Maria’s arm. Her skin is searing and slick from perspiration. There is a slight tremor coursing through her. Carol’s heart sinks. She whispers Maria’s name softly into the darkness, then closer to her ear.

“Maria. Baby. Shhhh. It’s okay. Everything’s okay.”

A promise in the dead of night. Maria’s murmurs grow quiet; less frequent. Carol shifts closer, holding her still. Soothing words and light caresses calm her. The thrashing stops. Her breathing becomes even. She relaxes. She melts against Carol. Her slumber is peaceful again.

Maria’s been sleeping alone for three months and has Carol back in their bed just a week; one week into her one month of leave. A week is not much time in the grander scheme of things, but the small moments are what she cherishes. Mundane domestic things are special to her and keep her from worrying so much while the love of her life is off saving the universe. She understands why Carol does it. To protect their little family and every other family out there. Still, she can’t help but feel the dread eating away at her with every moment that passes. Even now that Carol is home safe, the trepidation creeps up on Maria because she knows that the call will come, and Carol will go. And who knows if she will make it back to them next time?

Maria pushes those thoughts deep down inside where the dread is churning away.

She and her girls have cupcakes to make.

Monica stirs the batter with a wooden spoon. She is somehow cleaner than her parents: Carol’s shirt is a mess and Maria has flour dotted against her face and dusted against her hair. They smile and laugh and speak about how delicious the cupcakes will be. Maria watches the two of them, cheerfully oblivious to the fact that for the past week sleep has been evading her. And when she does sleep, her slumber is plagued with nightmares. Maria brushes the thoughts aside. They don’t need to know. She doesn’t need to sully the moment. The moments they cherish.

A yawn escapes her lips and Monica says, “Mama. Don’t forget to cover your mouth when you yawn or the devil will fly in.”

Maria rolls her eyes and looks at Carol, before saying, “I wish you wouldn’t tell her these old wives’ tales.”

And then, to herself, There’re enough demons here to last a lifetime.

“Sorry, babe,” says Carol stealing a quick kiss, but not before noticing the faraway look that settles on Maria’s pretty face.

Carol takes hold of her hand and asks, “You alright?”

“Yeah, course,” Maria answers, giving her hand a squeeze. “Come on. Let’s get these cupcakes in the oven.”

One minute, Carol, Maria, and Monica are laughing in the kitchen, the next, Carol’s getting trays out to put the cupcake batter in, and a bunch of them come tumbling to the floor. The loud clanging startles Maria and the next thing they know is she’s flinching away, almost ducking for cover.

Carol doesn’t notice until Monica is standing there with a frightened expression on her face.

“Babe? Maria? Baby?” says Carol, as she notices the other woman cowering near the island counter.

She steps forward and Maria snaps out of her momentary fright.

“Mama?”

“I’m okay,” says Maria, forcing a smile and straightening up. “I’m okay. Just got startled.”

Monica moves toward her mother and falls into an embrace. Carol comes and wraps her arm around her wife.

“You sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah,” Maria says, slightly embarrassed by her reaction. “I’m just tired.”

The light hanging in the workshop is sufficient despite the late hour and the shroud of darkness blanketing everything. Maria wipes her grease-covered hands onto her coveralls, and then presses the back of her hand to her brow. It doesn’t matter how much work she has put into the small craft, she always finds something else that needs fixing or tinkering with. It’s where Carol finds her, frowning at the engine in the middle of the night.

“There you are,” says Carol softly, so as not to startle Maria. “You had me scared for a minute.”

Carol comes closer, holding a container and wearing a gentle smile.

“Hey, babe,” Maria replies, as she places her tools down and leans against the tiny aircraft. “Just working on the engine.”

“How’s it comin’?”

“Haven’t even started her up at all.”

Carol takes a seat on a crate close by.

“For real?”

“Yeah, it’s silly. I just don’t want the noise,” Maria explains. “And it’s so quiet out here. Close enough to home, but far away from everyone. And I need that. I need the peace and quiet.”

Silence floats around them for a brief moment before Carol asks, “Is it to do with the nightmares?”

Maria lets out a little huff that is more of a self-deprecating laugh.

“Nothin’ gets past you.”

“I noticed,” Carol supplies with a gentle smile. “So, what’s it all about?”

“Honesty?”

“Yeah.”

“You,” says Maria, causing Carol’s stomach to drop. “It’s about what happened to you before. And then you comin’ back. I was just getting used to not havin’ you around, hard as it was. And then you came back. And I’m happy, but confused? And scared. I dunno.”

Carol nods her head and lets Maria continue.

“You were up there, and then you weren’t. And there was nothing left. You were gone. Just like that. And now you’re back. And it’s a lot for me to deal with.”

“You – you want me to go?” asks Carol earnestly, as a look of concern washes over her face and fear settles in her stomach.

“No. Of course not. I want you here with us, I just – it’s brought up a lot of memories. Things I thought I was over. And I’m scared.”

Carol feels her heart break as she listens to Maria’s trembling words, before she whispers, “What’re you afraid of?”

Maria takes a deep, albeit shaky breath.

“That this is all a cruel dream,” Maria admits. “That I’ll wake up and reach for you, and you’ll be gone, again. For good this time. I just – I just don’t know how to stop this sinking feeling.”

She glances down at the container and asks, “What you got there?”

It’s a respite from the heaviness of their conversation.

“Cupcakes,” Carol says with a smile, as she removes the lid. “You want some?”

“Yeah,” Maria replies, grinning plaintively.

They each take a cupcake and Maria sits next to Carol. They eat in silence before Carol speaks again.

“You being out here on your own with the baby and no one to lean on isn’t good. I want to be here for you. Talk to me. Tell me what’s on your mind.”

“What if it’s something you don’t want to hear?”

“I still wanna hear it. We’ll face it together.”

“Okay,” Maria says, while taking another deep breath. “Okay. I don’t want you to quit doin’ what you do. It’s important work. But I would like it if you were around more. I don’t know what that looks like for us. I just know bein’ worried about it keeps me up at night.”

Carol nods in understanding and says, “I’ll quit tomorrow if you want me to.”

“That’s not it. I really don’t want that, and I know you don’t either.”

“Okay, I can make a compromise. I can come back home more often, do more work here, and we can get some help for you. Help you deal a little better; help you with the nightmares.”

Maria smiles and slips her free hand into Carol’s and says, “Thank you. I’d like that. God. I feel better already.”

Carol lifts Maria’s hand to her lips and kisses her knuckles before saying, “Good. I’m glad. And no matter where I go, this is my home, here with my girls. So if you ever need me to call in sick, I’ll do it.”

“You don’t get sick,” says Maria with a smile.

“Yeah, yeah,” Carol replies, bumping their shoulders together. “But if you ever need me to stop, I’ll do it.”

“I can’t ask you to stop saving the world. But I appreciate you bein’ here with us here and now.”

“I’m gonna take another month or two of leave. Gonna submit a request tomorrow.”

“Babe, one extra month is fine.”

“Two months,” Carol insists.

“You’re a sweetheart, and an amazing wife, but one extra month is good. You’ve got a universe to protect, too, remember.”

“Yeah well, you’re my whole universe, okay? I’ll do what I need to protect you. And right now, you need me here. Everyone else can wait.”

The pair share tired smiles and then a chaste kiss before silently finishing off their cupcakes and retiring to their bedroom, pleased to have spoken; pleased to have cleared the air. Both sleep through the rest of the night holding one another, unmarred by worry and bad dreams.

#danbeau #carolmaria #mfsbingo2020 #maria rambeau #carol danvers

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goldenlaquer · 4 years ago

Note

May I request a one-shot hijikata with a female s/o who is gintoki's sister? Maybe he likes her but he thinks she likes sougo or someone else. Thank you!

In which Sougo’s words affect him a lot more than it should have.

Thank you for the wait! This is cheesy and probably has a lot of mistakes (I should probably look for a beta-reader or something), but I hope you like it anyway.

untitled for now (Hijikata Toushirou One-shot):

Hijikata-san.

Hijikata-s

What.

Do you like her?

What the hell are you talking about?

Her.

Like I said, you idiot, what the hell are you talking about?

——-

The two siblings always stand next to each other, on the corner of the convenience store the morning of Monday.

The older is not worth mentioning. He is scum. And as for the younger,

she is not

not

worth mentioning either.

The older has the latest copy of the Shonen Jump magazine in his hands, obsessively rifling through the pages as the younger stands on her toes to peer over her brother’s shoulder.

From where he stands, he can hear them squabble:

You turned the page too fast.

I didn’t. You just read slower than Sadaharu can take a stinkin’ dump.

Yeah? And it stinks just as much as your breath.

My breath smells great, like flowers and angels. You must be smelling your own breath, you dirty brat.

Am not.

Are too.

Am not.

The volume is astronomical. Other passersby are looking, disturbed by the childish back and forths in front of the store. A small dog barks at them, frightened by the racket. An old lady clucks her tongue and swishes her cane, hitting Hijikata’s ankle. She gives him an expectant look, take care of it, and totters away, still clucking her tongue at today’s youth.

He is a policeman. It is his duty to take care of the troublemakers. So he takes a step towards them, then another, then another to cross the road. His fingers twitch, before curling into a fist, before relaxing because he’s relaxed, alright?

They notice him immediately; The brother groans in dismay and promptly starts hacking up phlegm to spit at the ground like the caveman he is.

And the sister sees him and quickly turns away.

Hijikata falters for a millisecond.

——

You like her, don’t you?

Sougo, take today off and go see a psychiatrist.

You don’t?

…

If you don’t, then

Can I have her?

The pen in his hand snaps.

——

The brother insults him as always. Tax evader. Tax waster. Tax thief. What’s new? Hijikata’s used to dealing with ill-mannered monkeys. Plus, he knows that the brother has no basis anyway— the damn fool doesn’t even pay taxes.

He’s also used to scanning his surroundings. One can never be too careful. So he scans the area as he insults the brother right back, eyes swiveling to the side to look at the sister. You still have your body angled away from him, hands playing with the edge of your worn hoodie, your tattered flip flops kicking at the ground. He hears each kick like a gunshot.

Rotten bastard.

You won’t look at him.

Disrespectful, rotten bastard.

Still.

Permheaded, disrespectful, rotten bastard.

You spare him a glance then. Hijikata meets your eye for a split second before snapping back to the brother, as if he had been burned.

——

Ink flows over his fingers, dropping down to blacken his report. Hijikata jumps up and cusses.

Sougo stares at him, face carefully deadpan. Hijikata knows him enough to see the hidden smirk tucked underneath the layers of his face. He always hated that about Sougo.

What the fuck are you looking at?

An idiot.

——

Your brother runs off. The coward. You stay for some reason.

It is unbearably awkward.

He doesn’t know where to look. The ant next to the pebble. The tuft of grass breaking through concrete. The miniscule scuff on his boots that he’ll have to buff out later.

Hijikata glances up. Right as you gaze at him.

It is so quick. The way the both of you look away at the same moment.

——

Okita stops at the door, turning back to tell him:

Oh yeah, I asked her out on a date.

He pulls out two tickets to the local amusement park and flaps them up and down like a fan.

Hijikata does not even dignify that with a proper response. Instead he calmly tells Sougo that why the hell would I care? and also tells him to get the fuck out.

Once the door shuts, Hijikata rubs his face. He needs a smoke. The whole pack.

——

“How was the date?” He hears his voice ask before he can realize.

“Date?”

Hijikata stares at a spot between your eyebrows. It's just small talk. Like the weather or favorite sports teams. Just small, small talk. “With Sougo.”

“Sou-kun? Oh, on Saturday night?”

Sou-kun.

The familiarity of the name doesn’t escape his attention.

“Yeah,” he hoarsely says.

“It was more fun than I thought it would be! He and I—“

Ah, now he kinda wants to kill himself for even asking. He doesn’t want to hear the rest of the answer.

“—and the rest went to the—“

Hold up. Hold up. Hold up.

He frowns. “The rest?”

You tilt your head at him. It’s so goddamn adorable.

“Yeah?”

Sougo, what kind of date did you take her on?

“I thought it was just you and Sougo.”

Your eyes widen and you shake your head furiously. “No, no, no, not like that! I went with Gintoki, Kagura, and Shinpachi too. I don’t really get why, but he took us all to the amusement park.”

“Oh.” Of course. Sougo lied to him. He should have seen this coming from ten miles away. Everything in him loosens from its tight grip. “Okay.”

He leaves then. A curt goodbye and that’s that.

And he doesn’t know that you watch him go, eyes trained on the solid, black wall of his back. He doesn’t know that you ruefully sigh and wish that you weren’t wearing such an ugly ensemble this Monday morning and that you had said more words to him before he could leave. He doesn’t know that you’ll go home and scold your uncaring brother for being such a rude-ass. He doesn’t know that you take another longing gander at him before walking back to the Yorozuya.

And what you don’t know is that Hijikata is sort of smiling at the sky, feeling his steps a lot more lighter than for the past few days.

——

Sougo.

Yes, Hijikata-san?

Go commit seppuku.

#gintama #gintama scenarios #gintama imagine #hijikata toushirou #hijibaka #answered ask #asks closed

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lemonz-and-limez · 5 years ago

Text

The Nobel Abandonment

A/N: I posted this like last week and I am just barely remembering to post it here *facepalm*. Better late than never I guess ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

When they first walked out onto the stage, Sheldon could see the anguish in Amy’s eyes. She hid it behind the smile she put on for the cameras, but he could feel her pain coming off of her in waves.

Amy’s voice had broken several times during her acceptance speech. The facade she had put on faltered. In the end, she left the podium before she even finished, and Sheldon guessed that it was to keep her emotions in check. When she stepped aside to let him take his turn, something didn’t feel right about the pile of papers he was holding in his hands. Every word of his original speech tugged at his conscience. Leonard was right, he was a selfish jerk.

There was no way he would have been able to give his lecture of a speech. Not when his wife was on the verge of tears standing next to him because he couldn’t put other people’s feelings above his own for once. Not when there were five empty seats in the second row of the grand auditorium. Not when Raj had been the only one who stayed.

His once 90-minute speech ended up being 90 seconds. He thanked all the necessary people, including those on a plane back to Los Angeles, and took his seat to respectfully listen to the rest of the laureates receive their Nobel. Sheldon had tried to grab Amy’s hand at one point, but she just jerked it away.

Once the ceremony was over, Amy had gracefully explained that there was just no way she and Sheldon would be able to attend the dinner that immediately followed. He could tell Amy was tired and wanted nothing more than to go back to the hotel and sleep. Or cry, whichever came first.

Raj met them in the lobby of the hotel. The second Amy saw him, the last of her barriers came down. She rushed to him, tears brimming in her eyes. Raj enveloped her in a hug as soon as he could, and Amy all but sobbed into his shoulder.

Sheldon felt helpless as he watched Raj try to comfort his wife, but, unfortunately, there was nothing he could do. He caused this after all. His retribution was having to just stand a watch Raj shush and quiet Amy as he gently rocked her back and forth.

“Come on, let’s get you back to your room,” Raj had said once he noticed the stares of the other patrons in the lobby. Amy nodded weakly. She glared at Sheldon when he moved to follow them but still said nothing. She didn’t want him around, he needed to leave her alone for a while. He sighed when he handed Raj the hotel key card but figured it was fine if it was for the sake of his marriage.

There was a couch near a fireplace in one corner of the room he plopped onto once Raj and Amy disappeared in the elevator. He rested his elbows on his knees and buried his face in his hands. How could he have ruined this day for them? For Amy? Not having her friends there to cheer her on probably, if not definitely, hurt her more than it hurt him. Every girls’ night, she would come back to him and tell him how happy she was having friends. How, after years of being completely alone, she now had people to confide in. And on the day where she needed those people the most, he had chased them away with his callous and hurtful attitude.

It should have been the best day for them. They both were fulfilling a lifelong dream. Yet, it didn’t feel monumental or happy or anything he thought it would be. It was sad and burdened with too many hurt feelings. And the blame lay solely on one person; him. This wasn’t any of his friends’ fault, he’d come to realize. He just didn’t think about other people’s feelings and therefore hurt his friends in the process. It only took Amy yelling at him to understand that.

He would never make this up to her.

“Hey, Sheldon,” Raj’s voice rang suddenly.

His head snapped up to be met with Raj handing him his key card back. “Thank you,” he mumbled, plucking it from Raj’s hand.

“Amy said she was going to sleep, but I have the feeling you will be sleeping on the couch tonight,” Raj told him as he took a seat next to Sheldon. “She’s really hurt, Sheldon,” Raj continued when Sheldon didn’t respond.

Solemnly, Sheldon nodded. Of course she was, she had every right to be. “I know,” he responded in a whisper.

“She needed her friends, Sheldon,” Raj said this like Sheldon didn’t know this already.

“I know, Raj!” Sheldon spoke through clenched teeth. He looked over at his friend, who seemed taken aback at his outburst. ‘This is why they left you,’ his inner voice told him. ‘They were mad at you, and now Amy is hurting because of it. Good going, genius.’

Raj sighed beside him. “Look, Sheldon, there is nothing you can do about it now. They’re all on a plane bound for Pasadena, and you have to stay here for a couple more days to take care of business. So, you better find a way to make this up to Amy somehow; otherwise, you’ll be sleeping on the couch at home too.”

Raj didn’t even wait for him to respond; he just rose from the couch and made his way to the elevator again.

Sheldon knew he was right though. Amy was rightfully upset, which meant he better be on his best behavior for the remainder of their time in Stockholm. And not because he just wanted to be in his wife’s good graces again, but rather he wanted to prove to her that he did have the compacity to know when he messed up.

The rest of their trip, however, was filled with tension. And not the good kind. Amy put on a smiling face for the camera, held his hand, and made it seem like everything was ok for the public eye. As soon as the spotlight was off them, she could barely look at him. It was shocking that she let him sleep in their bed again. However, given the fact that it was larger than their one at home, sticking to one side was not that difficult. Amy had finally taken him up on his pillow wall suggestion though. Turns out, he wasn’t as much of a fan of the wall as he had first thought. At least he got to sleep in a bed; that’s what he told himself to get through it.

Raj stayed with them, something that Sheldon would be forever thankful for. Even after Sheldon couldn’t get Amy to crack a smile, Raj could. He joked with her and had fun with her. To help her survive the remainder of their time in Sweden.

However, now that they were all home, Sheldon was both happy and nervous. Now, he would have to face up to the fact that he was an ass. This also meant he had to make sincere apologies, something he still wasn’t very proficient in. But he had to do it for the sake of their friendships. And for Amy.

A working elevator meant less work for Sheldon as Amy left him on his own to deal with their suitcases. Amy wasn’t an over-packer like Penny though, so it wasn’t too much troubled. But even if it was, he supposed he really wasn’t in any position to complain.

After dragging everything into their tiny apartment, he didn’t even bother shutting the door behind him. He sat on the couch, pinching the bridge of his nose. Amy was busy sorting through the mail she had gotten on their way up, still not paying him any mind.

“Hey, guys,” Penny’s voice rang out suddenly.

Sheldon looked up to see Leonard and Penny standing anxiously in the doorway. “Hello,” he greeted them quietly.

Amy merely glanced at the couple standing there. Was she mad at them as well?

“So,” Penny started, wringing her hands together, a nervous habit Sheldon always hated. “How was the rest of your trip?”

It was such an easy question, but the answer was so difficult. Sheldon could not figure out just how he should answer. For the first time, in what seemed like a lifetime, Amy’s eyes met his, and Sheldon was struck by the unknown emotion that lay beneath them. He had thought he had become good at reading her, but there was nothing and everything behind his wife’s expression. And he didn’t know what that meant.

He had paused for too long, he realized. He needed to answer Penny’s question. “It was alright.” It wasn’t a complete lie. “The press was a lot to handle, but Raj helped us out. He and Amy did some sightseeing before we left, I’m sure they had a good time.”

Leonard’s brow furrowed. “You didn’t go with them?”

His eyes flicked over to Amy briefly. “No. I had too many things I needed to do. The amount of emails I have to respond to is ridiculous.” Again, it was only a partial lie. There was no feasible way he would be able to do anything fun in Stockholm before they left, there was just too much business to do. However, he couldn’t possibly be that productive when his mind was working overtime, trying to figure out how to fix the mess he made.

“Oh, that sounds like fun. Did you have a good time, Ames?” Penny asked the woman who had yet to speak.

Sheldon knew Penny meant well, he could tell by the slight smile on her face, but he could feel the irritation coming off of Amy in waves. He didn’t need to see her face to know that.

Amy let out an exaggerated sigh and haphazardly threw the mail on the kitchen counter. “Yeah, it was great,” she passively responded. “Sheldon, I’m going to go unpack, hand me one of the suitcases,” Amy demanded, holding her hand out for the luggage.

“Amy-“ Sheldon started.

“Just give me the damn suitcases, Sheldon!” She barked, obviously in no mood to try and be persuaded.

He rolled the suitcases towards her. “Thank you,” she said, turning towards their bedroom. She didn’t close the door gently behind her, the loud click resonated throughout the apartment.

Sheldon massaged his temples, trying to evade a blooming headache. As his eyes squeezed shut, he heard the apartment door close. He’d driven Penny and Leonard away again, great. No chance for him to apologize, and they’d left him again.

He was startled when he felt the couch dip next to him. He was confused when he looked up. Penny was looking at him… apologetically?

Her voice was soft, laced with emotions. “Sweetie, we’re really sorry we left you guys. We shouldn’t have done that.”

What? Why was she apologizing? He was the one supposed to say sorry, not them. Leonard, Penny, Howard, Bernadette, they all had valid reasons to leave him. No, leave them. His actions drove them away, which in turn drove them away from Amy as well. They had had enough of his crap, deciding not to take it from him anymore was completely justified. Amy taught him that.

He sighed and looked at his best friends. The people who had cared for him for so long. “Why are you saying sorry? I’m the one who should be apologizing.”

The couple shared a look with each other for a moment. Although only being married a year, Sheldon knew the non-verbal communication that was happening between them.

It was Leonard that spoke next. “We watched the ceremony when we got home,” he began. “You two were not good at hiding how sad you were, by the way, because we could tell the second you realized we actually left.”

Sheldon’s brow furrowed in confusion.

“Look, Sheldon, I think what Leonard is trying to say is that it was an important day for you two, and we should have been there,” Penny explained.

What was happening? He was the one who messed up, the one who ruined an important day for his wife.

“I don’t understand,” Sheldon confessed. “I am the one who was acting childish. I am the selfish one. Therefore, shouldn’t I be the one who has to apologize?”

Leonard and Penny did that looking thing again. “Sheldon, sweetie, you have to understand that sometimes it’s just easier for us to apologize first.”

He was even more confused now. “Why?”

“Because most times, you’re not going to realize the error of your ways and come to us first. For the sake of our friendship, we take the initiative to apologize,” Leonard told him, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees.

It was a good thing he was sitting down already because what Leonard just said hit him like a ton of bricks. His best friends didn’t think he was mature enough to realize the error of his ways and apologize to them. Given that he didn’t have the best track record in that department, Sheldon found it hard to blame them. It was always Amy who made him realize what was wrong. And even though she hadn’t done that regarding the ceremony, her angry words beforehand really felt like a wakeup call. What Leonard was telling him, about not being able to own up to himself confirmed what Amy said. They simply tolerate him.

Still, Leonard and Penny telling him this did not change the fact that, yes, he still needed to say sorry. It was only fair to them, especially after what he put them through.

“I am sorry, though, I want you two to know that,” Sheldon told them after a brief moment of silence.

“Sheldon, we know that,” Penny assured.

He sighed exasperatedly. “That doesn’t make it ok. You shouldn’t have to just sit back while I have my head stuck in the sand like a stubborn ostrich.” His voice was rising now, and he stood up, pacing in front of the couch. Sheldon took a moment to compose himself, running a hand down his face and taking deep breaths to calm himself down. As much as he hated it, Amy’s irate words were ringing in his head.

“You never mean to. It’s the only reason people tolerate you.”

He’d known these people for more than 15 years. Before Amy, they were among the few people he trusted. Change had never been Sheldon’s friend, but he owed it to Leonard, Penny, and Amy, the three most important people in his life, to finally grow up.

He thought that getting married and winning the Nobel would do that, make him more of a man just like his father always wanted him to be. However, when he looked out in that crowd and saw five empty seats and Raj, there was a shift in his paradigm. Sheldon wanted his friends there, but his own childish behavior drove them away. He was 38 years old, it’s overdue for him to start acting like it.

Sheldon gulped before turning back to his friends. Best friends. “Leonard, Penny, I am truly sorry for the way I have treated you,” he mumbled, finding it difficult to keep eye contact.

“Buddy, it’s ok,” Leonard tried.

“No, it’s not. You’ve been tolerant of me long enough.” Leonard and Penny didn’t respond, just looked at him to continue. “I should have been more supportive when you told me you were having a baby. I was caught up in myself as usual, and I have come to realize just how many times that has hurt you in the past.” He cast his eyes downward as he wrung his hands together. “I promise I will try harder.”

Sheldon hoped he was sincere enough. He wanted them to honestly believe him.

He didn’t say anything as Penny came towards him. She stretched her arms out in a request for a hug. Sheldon wouldn’t tell Penny this, but he didn’t hate her hugs nearly as much anymore. In fact, he was quite fond of them in moderation. So, Sheldon acquiesced to her entreaty and allowed her to wrap her arms around him.

“Thank you for apologizing, sweetie,” Penny whispered, resting her cheek on his chest. Just like she always did when insisting on hugging him.

Sheldon awkwardly patted her back. “You’re welcome.”

What else was he to say?

It felt like forever before she pulled away from him. He smiled at her regardless. He glanced over to Leonard, who was standing off to the side. Sheldon looked between them for a moment. There was still one more thing he needed to say.

“For the record, I am actually looking forward to meeting your child.”

Leonard stepped close to his wife, a tight-lipped smile forming on his face. “Thank you, buddy, that means a lot.”

A silence fell over the three of them, no one knowing what to say now that the air had been proverbially cleared. Between the three of them at least, Amy was another situation entirely.

“So,” Penny started, wringing her hands nervously together. “What about Amy?”

Sheldon sighed a looked over to the closed bedroom door. It was too quiet inside; she would be making noise if she was putting things away like she said. But there was nothing.

“I don’t know,” he confessed. “We have hardly spoken since before the ceremony, and even that was tense.”

“How so?”

“We had an argument. She got mad; yelled at me. All things I needed to hear, but still.” It’s the only reason people tolerate you.

He squeezed his eyes shut as if it would help silence Amy’s voice inside of his head. But it didn’t, it never would. She had practically become his inner voice at this point anyway.

“Sheldon.” Penny’s voice snapped him back to reality. “Just talk to her, Amy is a very forgiving person.”

“Lord knows she’d have to be,” Leonard quipped. Penny elbowed him in the ribs. “Ow! What was that for?!”

The glare on Penny’s face obviously meant shut up because Leonard stopped whining immediately. “She’s forgiving because she loves him,” Penny told her husband as if Sheldon was not standing right in front of her. “Look, Sheldon, just talk to her. Please.”

“I was going to anyway, but alright,” he told her. Sheldon sighed again. “I don’t like not talking to her.”

Leonard patted his shoulder. “I’m sure it will all work out,” he said, trying to reassure him.

Sheldon nodded in gratitude.

Leonard looked at Penny again before telling him they should get going. “Once you and Amy are on speaking terms again, we should all go out for dinner. It’s the least we can do.”

The two bid their farewells and left him alone. Again.

Was he ready to talk to Amy? No. But did he need to? Yes. For the sake of their marriage, it wasn’t an option. This wasn’t one of those things that would go away on its own. Amy was harboring a lot of resentment towards him at the moment. And that resentment did not stem from him buying unsalted butter this time.

The conversation awaiting him on the other side of the door was his least favorite thing about marriage. The hard conversations that you have to put up with because you’re forever tied to the person. Because you loved the person.

After taking a few seconds to compose himself, he slowly made his way over to the bedroom. He listened for any kind of movement from within but still could not detect any. Gingerly knocking the door, he called out her name. “Amy?”

His initial assumptions were correct, she wasn’t putting anything away. No, she was just sitting on the bed with her back to him. Their medals lay next to her. A soiled tissue crumpled in her hand.

He spoke her name again. “Amy?”

She sniffled and turned so her head so he could see her side profile. Her glasses were missing, thrown onto nightstand no doubt. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and sighed. “What do you want, Sheldon?”

It was the most she had said to him in days, and Sheldon found that bittersweet somehow. The impending conversation was not going to be an easy one. He had a lot he had to apologize for. Despite the successful conversation he had with Leonard and Penny, Sheldon knew Amy wouldn’t be as quick to forgive as they had been.

He approached the bed, timidly, wringing his hands together anxiously. “I- uh- talked to Leonard and Penny,” he told her. No response. “They’re not mad anymore.”

This evoked a response from her. “Of course they’re not,” she scoffed, throwing the dirtied tissue onto the side table with her glasses. “Because it would be a crime to hold you accountable for your actions.”

Sheldon’s brow furrowed. “Excuse me? I apologized too,” he refuted, pointing a finger at his chest even though he knew she wouldn’t be able to see.

She turned to him so sharply that he had to take a step back. “Did you?” she challenged. “What prompted this apology? Was it because you were genuinely sorry? Or because you wanted to seem like the bigger man?”

He could feel the rage burn within him. “Of course I meant it! And I resent the fact that you think so little of me.”

Something in Amy’s eyes shifted. Her blazing anger still evident, but the sadness she had displayed the entire time they were in Sweden was back. “Sheldon, you drove our friends away when we most needed them. I thought you had grown out of that, but apparently, I set my expectations too high.”

What a way to kick someone when they’re already down. Sheldon’s chest constricted painfully. How was he going to fix this?

Sheldon sat down on his side of the bed. He tried to place his hand over the one she was using to support herself. And like every other time he had tried the last few days, she pulled away. “Amy, I meant what I told Penny and Leonard. I wish more than anything that they would have been there. Not only for me but for you. I hate seeing you this upset. Even more so knowing I caused it.” He paused, looking down at the space between them on the bed. He inched his hand closer to her in a futile attempt to feel any kind of connection with her. “So, yes, I am sorry for what I did to hurt our friends, which in turn caused you pain. I’m a grown man, I should have known better.”

Sheldon felt her shift closer to him. The arm around his shoulder shocked him to say the least. He looked up to find Amy inexplicably close now. “You should have known better, yes,” she spoke softly. “I know why you did what you did. You had a vision of what that day would look like, and when things started to go awry, you fought back. I’m not going to hold it against you; I know how your brain works.” She paused a took a deep breath. “But, I want you to understand just how much your actions hurt me.”

“I know,” he said, but she held her hand up.

Amy shook her head slightly. “No, you don’t. Sheldon, that award was a big deal, and it still is, I guess. Without our friends there, it didn’t mean nearly as much to me though. I wanted to celebrate with my friends; with my husband. But I couldn’t do that because they were on a plane back home and you were the cause of it. I was sad that our friends got hurt and angry at you for doing it.”

Sheldon looked down, guilt flooding him again. Amy pulled him back though with a hand on his cheek. “I didn’t want to push you away, Sheldon, please know that. I was just so mad at you and overwhelmed. I didn’t know how to handle it.”

He pulled her hand away from his face, running his thumb along her knuckles. “I’m so sorry, Amy,” he whispered. Not able to maintain eye contact with her, he honed in on the wedding bands that adorned her finger. He’d promised on their wedding day to show her how much he loved her every day for the rest of his life. He let her down that day when he pushed their friends away from her; he didn’t hold up his end of the bargain.

It was almost like Amy could hear his inner turmoil with how she gently leaned in to kiss him. Their first kiss in days felt like their first kiss in years. A wave of gratitude fell over him as Amy hit the reset button when her lips moved oh so slightly against his. She accepted his repentance and pardoned him for his error. They would be ok.

Amy pulled away from him moments later, and Sheldon missed her instantly.

“No more apologizing, ok?” she breathed, her face still so close to his.

He nodded. “Alright.”

Amy bit her lip and smiled. Genuinely. And it warmed his heart. “You know,” she started, moving a hand to his chest. “We never did have our Nobel Night celebration,” she said suggestively. The crook in her eyebrow giving her away.

“Oh?” he asked, deciding to play along.

“Yes,” she purred, inching closer and closer to him. “I really wanted to see you in your Nobel, Sheldon.”

“But, you did see me in my Nobel…” He was cut off by the hand on his chest, pushing him down onto the bed. His legs were still dangling over the edge, but Amy didn’t seem to care. Wordlessly, she reached for one the medals… his medal… and wrapped it around his neck.

Hands still tightly gripping the purple cord, Amy leaned down close to him and whispered in his ear. “That’s not what I meant.”

Sheldon suddenly understood what she was implying, and his eyes widened almost comically. “Oh?”

“Is that all you have to say, Dr. Cooper?” She asked alluringly.

Adjusting himself so his entire body was on the bed, he reached for the neglected Nobel and placed it around her. Just as she had done to him. Her eyes shifted from playful back to loving, and she bent down to kiss him again.

He had half a mind to tell her that if it wasn’t for her pillow wall, they would have been able to celebrate properly. But given they decided all was forgiven and they were going to move on, Sheldon decided against it.

Instead, he chose to give an answer to her earlier question. “I think I’d like to stop talking now, Dr. Fowler.”

Amy just smirked.

Nobel Night Celebration indeed.

#Thanks for reading loves #shamy #shamy fanfic

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wistfulcynic · 5 years ago

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Their Way By Moonlight: Broken (Chapter 16)

In which the chapter title says it all, really.

For @thisonesatellite and @ohmightydevviepuu and @katie-dub, YOU KNOW WHAT YOU DID 😘😘😘 (and shoutout to @winterbythesea for filling the gaping holes in my video game knowledge)

SUMMARY: A new curse has fallen on Storybrooke and this time Emma is trapped inside it, deliberately separated from Henry and anyone else who might help her break it. But what no one knows –including her own cursed self– is that she and Killian have the ability to share their dreams, and are working together in secret to find a way to break the curse and free everyone from a new and dangerous foe.

Rating: M

AO3

Broken:

All her life Emma had loved to sleep, but she wasn’t the biggest fan of naps. Sleep, to her, involved putting on comfy, loose clothing, making the room as dark as possible, burrowing into her pillows and blankets and letting oblivion wrap her in its soothing embrace for at least eight hours, preferably more. Obviously, those perfect conditions didn’t happen often, but still a girl could dream.

Naps, she felt, were like fast food sleep. They met her most immediate needs but left her feeling heavy and groggy and a bit gross. Exactly the way she was feeling now. She peeled one sticky eyelid open and groped for her phone, groaning when she saw the time. Ten past six. She’d slept for over two hours, and Neal would be here in less than one. Rubbing her eyes with the heels of her hands, she tried to force her foggy mind to focus.

A burst of triumphant laughter sounded from the living room, followed by a dramatic groan.

“Right, you’ll pay for that,” snarled Killian’s voice.

“Oh yeah?” Henry crowed in reply, “Who’s gonna make me?”

Emma heaved herself up out of bed and went to the curtain that separated her and Killian’s bedroom area from the main part of the apartment. She peeked around it and grinned at the sight that met her eye. Henry and Killian were on the sofa, controllers in hand, playing what was apparently a very hotly contested game of Battlefront II.

She thought back to when Killian had first begun attempting to play video games with Henry in New York, hampered by his missing hand and his general bafflement as to why anyone would want to sit for hours in front of a flickering screen, shooting imaginary bolts of light at each other. He seemed to have gotten over that in the past year, she thought, and now with his modern prosthetic he was able to manage the controller and navigate the game deftly enough that Emma had a sneaking suspicion he might be letting Henry win.

Although, she thought, as Henry racked up another kill, pumping his fist as his character respawned into Han Solo and Killian’s eyebrows snapped together indignantly, maybe not.

She pushed aside the curtain and went to sit on the arm of the sofa next to Killian, who flashed her a brief smile before returning his attention to evading Henry’s digital assault on him.

“Hey, guys,” she said, unable to resist letting her fingers sift through Killian’s hair. She still found it difficult to go too long without touching him. “Who’s winning?”

“The lad has a temporary advantage,” Killian replied grudgingly.

“Temporary my ass.”

“Language,” Killian rebuked, and Henry snorted.

“That’s rich coming from Mister oh bloody hell,” he retorted.

“Perhaps, but when you swear in front of your mothers I get the blame.”

Emma chuckled and Killian paused the game, looking up at her with the soft, adoring smile that never failed to make her weak. “How are you feeling, love?” he asked. “Rested?”

“Yeah, I guess.” She shrugged. “Kinda groggy. Do you think I have time for a shower before Neal gets here?”

“Aye, a quick one.”

“And you don’t need me to help with anything?” Emma looked around the apartment. It was as neat and tidy as ever, the way Killian always kept things.

“No, everything’s prepared for dinner, it just needs cooking. Go have your shower, then Henry and I should probably freshen up too.”

“What? I’m fresh!”

“Your mouth is, perhaps,” said Killian, quick as a flash. “But as this is meant to be a nice meal, please indulge me by putting on a shirt that isn’t covered in dog hair.”

“Ugh, fine.” Henry rolled his eyes but couldn’t suppress a grin. Neither could Emma.

“What about that nice grey one I got you?” she suggested.

“Mom, I outgrew that like six months ago.”

“Oh.” The little flare of loss and regret was familiar now, but no less sharp. “Okay.”

Killian squeezed her knee sympathetically. “It has been replaced by another nice grey one, however,” he said. “Which I happen to know is clean and ironed and hanging in your room. Wear that.”

“Fine,” sighed Henry. “Can I finish kicking your arse at Battlefront first, though?”

“You can try,” said Killian.

They were making dinner together.

Mary Margaret knew it was happening, she was here, she was experiencing it. She could smell the rich aroma and hear the sizzle of frying onions, could hear the rhythmic sound of knives on a chopping board as she and David sliced mushrooms and minced carrots. Hell, she was the one doing the mincing. But she still couldn’t quite believe it.

It had been David’s idea. When they finished their lunch at Granny’s that afternoon he’d walked with her back to her office, as slowly as they could get away with, then lingered even longer by the door.

“This was fun,” he said. “I had fun. Did you?”

The thread of uncertainty in the question squeezed Mary Margaret’s heart and set her mind racing. What if—she could barely entertain the thought—what if David felt as she did? What if he wanted the same things? What if he was just as unsure of her as she was of him?

What if—this was the scariest what if of all—what if she actually told him what she wanted? That’t she’d like to give their marriage a real shot?

What would happen then?

“I did,” she replied, slightly breathlessly. “A lot of fun.”

David’s smile widened. “We should do it again.”

“We should,” she agreed, as her heart raced faster.

“Like tonight.”

“Tonight?”

“Yeah.” David nodded eagerly. “Let’s eat together tonight. Let’s make dinner.”

“Make dinner? I can’t cook!”

“Me neither. It’ll be fun. Half raw and half burnt maybe, but, you know—” his eyes seemed to bore into her “—ours.”

“Ours,” she repeated, wishing she could draw some air into her lungs. “Okay.”

“Okay?” he echoed.

She nodded. “Okay.”

“Okay.” His smile was so soft, his eyes warm. “I’ll get some stuff. Ingredients and things, and I’ll—see you at home.”

Home, thought Mary Margaret, letting her eyes caress his ass as he headed back down the street, then jerking them away when she realised what she was doing. Maybe they could actually have one.

And so now here they were, standing next to each other in their kitchen, chopping vegetables and browning meat in an attempt to make spaghetti.

“Shouldn’t be too hard, right?” said David, opening an old cookbook he’d unearthed from the back of a cupboard. “We just follow the instructions.”

They browned their meat and added their veggies and a can of tomatoes, several pinches of herbs and a generous glug of wine. The aromas were amazing and the kitchen warm and steamy and Mary Margaret took off her cardigan, draping it over a chair, and when she turned back David was watching her, his gaze hot and almost tangible on her bare arms. She caught her breath and he seemed to catch himself, his eyes flying to hers, their gazes catching and holding, lingering as they began to move towards each other, slowly as if in a dream, drawn by the tug of attraction they could no longer ignore. David’s fingers gently traced her cheek and hers gripped his shoulders, and when their lips touched—so softly at first then harder, growing desperate—it felt right and natural and like coming home, and also sent the sharpest spike of lust through Mary Margaret’s belly that she could ever remember feeling.

She couldn’t remember it, yet it was so familiar. This was familiar. David’s lips on hers, the silky slide of his hair between her fingers, the breadth of his shoulders, the firm comfort of his arms around her making her feel safe and treasured. Loved.

Then his hands slid over her hips to cup her ass and all she could feel was the frantic certainty that if she didn’t get him naked, right now, she would die. She sank her nails into his shoulders and rolled her hips against his, swallowing his moan and adding her own as he hoisted her up and she wrapped her legs around his waist and then—

“Wait—wait,” Mary Margaret gasped, tearing her mouth from his. She was still a sensible woman, no matter how lust-drenched she felt, and just enough of that sense remained to remind her not to burn the kitchen down. She leaned over and turned off the burner beneath the bubbling spaghetti sauce, then wrapped her arms tightly around David’s shoulders and kissed him fiercely, telling him with her lips what she couldn’t put into words. What she felt for him, and everything she hoped that they could be.

When they broke apart he stared at her like he was seeing her for the first time, like she was his sun and moon and stars and everything in between.

“Mary Margaret,” he breathed. “I want—”

“Me too,” she gasped against his mouth. “Me too. Let’s—upstairs?”

The icy blue of his eyes had never been so hot. “Fuck yes,” he said.

That evening Archie returned to the small, draughty room he rented in the boarding house where most of the mine workers lived. His body felt as exhausted as it always did after a double shift, his mind as fallow. He collapsed onto the small sofa that doubled as his bed with a sigh and let his head fall into his hands and his eyes fall shut.

The cushion beside him shifted and sagged as Pongo leapt onto it, his tail swishing across the threadbare cover. Archie looked down at the dog with a faint smile that grew wider as Pongo covered his chin with sloppy kisses then settled down to rest his head in Archie’s lap, gazing up at him with warm brown eyes full of trust. Trust, and love. Archie’s heart swelled in his chest and the worst of his exhaustion seemed to lift, lightened as all burdens are by the presence of a friend. Tears prickled behind his eyes as he stroked Pongo’s silky head.

“Good boy, Pongo,” he said. “That’s my boy.”

“Your love does not see them. He sees you.”

Oisín’s words rang in Regina’s ears as she stood examining her reflection in the mirror in the loft’s small bathroom. Carefully she applied another coat of lipstick then brushed a tiny crumb of mascara from beneath her eye. She’d managed to resist the urge to put her glamour spell back on but not the one that had drawn her into the market on her way home from Emma and Killian’s to pick up a stash of land-without-magic cosmetics. It was all well and good to talk about trusting people with the truth of her appearance but did have standards, after all, and no intention of going on a date with nothing whatsoever on her face.

She gave herself a final once-over just as a knock sounded at the door and took a deep breath to quell the butterflies in her belly. It didn’t work, not even a little, and they fluttered more frantically than ever as she went to open it.

Robin—no, John, she reminded herself firmly—smiled when he saw her, a smile that had warmed and softened considerably over the past few weeks.

You look lovely, Regina,” he said, producing a bouquet of wildflowers from behind his back and offering them to her, almost shyly. She caught her breath. He’d brought her flowers before, many times during their slow, cautious courtship, but always from the florist. Tasteful, professional arrangements that a banker would choose, nothing at all like this handful of blooms he’d clearly picked himself.

“Where—where did you get these?” she asked, taking them from him and breathing deeply, barely stopping herself from burying her face in them.

“Ah.” He looked a bit abashed. “From the woods. If you don’t like them—” He reached for the bouquet but she snatched it back, cradling it to her chest.

“I love them,” she said. “They’re just… different from the ones you brought before.”

“Indeed. It was the most peculiar thing,” he explained, stepping into the loft as she held the door for him and following her to the kitchen where she took out a vase and filled it with water. “Every morning I go for a run, as you know. Always around town, along the same route. But this morning—I don’t know what it was but I just felt the need to get out of civilisation, into nature.” He shook his head wryly. “I’d barely had that thought when I found myself jogging down the road that cuts through the forest on its way out of town. I was feeling brighter than I had in some time, lighter somehow, and then I noticed a footpath leading off the road and into the trees, and on a whim I followed it. It led through some dense trees and then opened into a little clearing with a tiny rock pool surrounded by the most stunning wildflowers.” He caught her eye and smiled. “They reminded me of you.”

Regina flushed with pleasure at the casual sincerity of the compliment and returned her attention to her flowers, arranging them in the vase and admiring their colours in the fading glow of the evening light.

“So I took note of the location and went back there just now to collect some for you,” he concluded. “Do you really like them?”

“They’re beautiful,” she replied, looking up again to see he had moved closer to her—so close—close enough that she could feel his breath on her cheek and hear the hitch in it, see his pupils dilate as he too became aware of just how close they were.

They’d seen each other nearly every day since she’d asked him to lunch, sharing coffee and meals and conversation but only rarely touching. Touches between them when they did occur were gentle, restrained. Cautious.

(“Regina,” said Emma, coming up behind her as she stood by Granny’s outer gate, watching Robin return to work after their first lunch date. “I’m really glad you’re happy. But… don’t forget he’s cursed, okay?”

“As if I could,” snapped Regina. “It’s kind of obvious in the way he doesn’t remember me.”

“That’s not really what I meant.” Emma shuffled her feet, her face the picture of both deep discomfort and grim determination.

“Well what did you mean?”

“Just that he—he doesn’t have control of himself. He can’t make decisions like he would if he weren’t cursed.”

Regina frowned. “Are you saying that un-cursed he wouldn’t be interested in me? Because I can assure you—”

“No! That’s not—look—” Emma crossed her arms over her chest, clutching her jacket sleeves so hard her nails left grooves in the red leather. “Don’t sleep with him, okay?” she burst out, flushing at Regina’s outraged glare but barreling on. “I know it’s none of my business and believe me, I really don’t want to be talking about it, but just—don’t. Cursed people can’t consent, and—” she took a deep breath “—I know that’s something my parents had to deal with after the first curse.”

Regina scowled, trying unsuccessfully to ignore the twinge of guilt that needled at her. She’d cursed Snow and Charming to those lives with full intent to hurt them as much as she could, and while she wasn’t precisely sorry for it her own recent experiences had given her a new perspective on what she’d put them through.

Things between her and Robin hadn’t exactly been friendly when the curse struck the Enchanted Forest, and while she’d had a whole year to think about that he had not. She’d spent those moments of the past year that weren’t consumed with her fear for Henry’s safety thinking about Robin and the way she’d treated him, wondering what might have happened if she’d been less scared, if she hadn’t let that fear make her so snappish and bitchy to him. Emma was right. Un-cursed, Robin might not wish for her to touch him.

That thought hurt far worse than she’d expected.)

But she wasn’t thinking about that now, not with him so close and leaning closer… not when her heart was pounding and her breath short… not when his lips touched hers and she just… melted into the kiss. Melted into him, unable to think of anything now but how right this felt, how right they felt, and how profoundly she wished she hadn’t fought against it for so long. She felt consumed by him, by them and by this moment, and neither Emma’s words of caution nor her own regret, nor even the ominous shifting and creaking of the magic in the air around them could pull her attention away from it.

When Belle arrived home she carefully removed the books Killian had lent her from their bag and placed them on the small table in her living room, taking a moment to let her fingertips trail over them, across the cloth bindings and the leather ones, tracing the titles and the authors’ names, and the illustrations on their covers. They all looked so fascinating she couldn’t wait to dive in and lose herself in the tales they carried within their bindings. And she knew exactly where she would begin.

(“It’s an adventure tale,” Killian explained as he handed the book to her, his eyes twinkling at the way hers widened and her hands trembled with eagerness. “A heroic quest to rescue a prince and reunite true loves.”

“Ohhh,” Belle breathed. “That sounds wonderful.”

“I figured you might like it,” Killian’s grin was warm. “I can tell already that you have excellent taste.”)

Belle made herself tea in her favourite cup, the one she saved for the most special occasions, and carried it carefully to her sofa, curling her legs beneath her and tucking a fluffy blanket around them, and a plump pillow behind her back. She sipped the brew with a contented sigh, and then she opened her book.

Neal Cassidy was no stranger to disappointment. It was always there, clinging to him like the smell of stale cigarette smoke he carried home with him each night from the Rabbit Hole, harsh and acrid and never wholly gone even when his clothes were freshly washed. The disappointment was the same, ever present, hovering in a cloud around his head, wherever he was, for as long as he could remember.

He’d had dreams once. At least, he thought he had. He must have, everyone did. He’d had dreams and he’d had a family—or at least he’d had a father, though he could barely remember the man, no more than a hazy impression of a hunched form and a plaintive voice.

I love you, son.

But that was a long time ago, impossibly long it sometimes felt, lifetimes ago. He was alone now, and had been for—well, for as long as he could remember. He worked as a janitor because he could do no other job, he drank alone because that’s what everyone did in Storybrooke. Each night the Rabbit Hole was silent but for the blaring music that was always on its speakers, patrons scattered throughout the dingy room, staring into their drinks and pretending the rest were somewhere else. Possibly pretending they were.

He worked as a janitor at the town hall, every day the same, sweeping and mopping and scrubbing, always under the sharp eyes of Mayor Green. Eyes that watched him more closely than a mayor really ought to watch a janitor, and with a smug, triumphant gleam that made him itchy and uncomfortable.

And then one day Mayor Green was gone, replaced by Mary Margaret Nolan. Deputy Mayor Nolan with tentative determination in her eyes, who greeted him with a kind smile and didn’t watch him as he worked, and who one astounding day had called him into her office to inform him that he owned the pawn shop.

(“It belonged to your father, apparently,” she said, “and he left it to you. I’m sorry I only found the records yesterday, they must have gotten lost. But the pawn shop is yours, and if you’d like to open it again, well, more business in town wouldn’t be a bad thing.”

“Um.” Neal’s head was spinning. He didn’t know the first thing about running a business. And yet… “Yeah, sure. I can try.”

When he unlocked the pawn shop the next day it was dark and dusty, with that stale smell places get when they’ve gone too long without exposure to fresh air. Neal stood in the doorway feeling the full weight and scale of the task that lay before him and how very poorly equipped he was to tackle it. He was seriously considering locking the place back up and never thinking of it again when a voice spoke behind him.

“Hi,” it said. “Are you gonna open this place?”

Neal turned. He didn’t recognise the boy—not surprising as he didn’t recognise most people in town—but his bright, cheerful expression lightened Neal’s heart and gave it an odd twinge.

“Uh, yeah,” he replied. “I’m gonna try. I guess.”

“Cool!” exclaimed the boy. “Can I help?”

Neal frowned. “Shouldn’t you be in school or something?”

“It’s Saturday.”

“Oh yeah.” Neal didn’t know much about kids but he was pretty sure this one was still a bit young to be going around talking to strangers. “Um, where are your parents?” he asked.

“My dad’s at work,” the boy replied, like he was expecting just that question. “He owns a bookstore.”

“He does?”

“Yep. I helped him get it set up, so I know what needs to be done. I could help you too.” He shrugged. “You know, if you want.”

Neal kind of did want. He wasn’t sure just how much help the kid could actually be, but just the idea of having someone around, of not having to do everything by himself, made the weight on his shoulders seem lighter. Still, a kid he didn’t know… “You sure your dad wouldn’t mind?” he hedged.

“He won’t,” said the boy decisively. “But I can call him if you like, to be sure.” Again he sounded like he’d been expecting exactly this development. Neal’s frown deepened. He wondered if he was being played somehow, though he couldn’t imagine how or why.

“Yeah, why don’t you do that,” he said. Let this play out, at least.

The boy took out his phone and tapped on its screen, then held it to his ear. “Hey, Dad,” he said. “I’m at the pawn shop. Yep.” His eyes flitted to Neal’s face and then away. “There’s this guy who’s gonna get it open again and I offered to help him but he wanted to be sure it’s okay with you… uh huh… yeah… okay.” He looked up at Neal. “My dad wants to talk to you.”

“Oh. Um, sure.” Neal took the phone from the boy. “Hello?”

“Hello,” said a voice, a deep, smooth, accented one that gave Neal another odd twinge, less pleasant than the one inspired by the boy. The voice was friendly, but it made Neal tense, his fingers flexing on the boy’s phone. “I hope my son isn’t troubling you,” it said.

“No.” Neal had the oddest urge to contradict everything this voice said. “He’s not.”

“Good. He sometimes lets his enthusiasm overwhelm his common sense. If he’s bothering you, feel free to send him away.” The voice was light and careless and Neal bristled at its lack of concern for the kid’s feelings.

“He’s not bothering me.” Neal glanced at the boy, who was listening intently.“He offered to help, and actually I could probably use it.”

“Excellent.” There was a hint of amusement in the voice now that Neal found deeply objectionable. He scowled. “Well, let me know if he causes you any trouble,” the voice continued.

“Sure thing,” said Neal shortly, and handed the phone back to the boy before he snapped and said something much longer. The boy took it back with a bright grin. “So I can stay?” he asked. He listened for a moment, then sighed and rolled his eyes. “Yes, I know. Okay. Okay, bye!” He ended the call and stuck the phone in his pocket. “I’m Henry,” he said, holding out his hand. “Henry Jones.”

Neal took the hand, feeling that twinge again as the small fingers wrapped around his own. “Neal Cassidy.”

“Nice to meet you, Mr Cassidy,” said Henry. “So, where do we start?”)

Henry Jones turned out to be just as enthusiastic as the voice had warned, bright and cheerful and actually very knowledgeable about running a shop. As was his dad, Neal discovered, when the man arrived later that day to pick up his son. Neal had ignored the funny twist in his gut at the sight of them hugging and forced a smile as the man—Killian, as he introduced himself—cheerfully inspected their progress and answered a lot of the questions Henry hadn’t been able to, and even some Neal hadn’t thought of yet. And Neal found himself taking the man’s number, almost gratefully, and even calling it, just once or twice, whenever he hit a snag he hadn’t anticipated.

Though he liked Henry very much Neal had weirdly mixed feelings about Killian Jones. He couldn’t seem to quell the hostility he felt deep in his gut whenever they met, the twisting anger and resentment that at most times simmered low but at others flared so high they licked right at the edge of hate. This despite the fact that the man was never anything but perfectly nice and helpful and by all appearances the kind of loving father Neal wished like hell he could remember. He tried to like Killian, he almost liked him. But that gut reaction was too troubling to ignore.

And that was how he came to find himself at ten minutes before seven p.m. walking straight past the Rabbit Hole and towards the harbour, turning down the small street where he could see the sign for Jolly Roger Books hanging from a wrought iron hook above the shop’s wide doorway, swinging gently in the chilly evening breeze.

Neal set his jaw and rang the bell, and a minute later Henry’s cheerful face appeared. “Come on in, Mr Cassidy!” he said, pulling the doors open. “You’re right on time.”

It was a typical night at the Rabbit Hole. The bar’s interior was smoky and dark though the sun was still in the sky outside, adorned with neon signs in precisely the wrong colours and a ceaseless blare of music from the speakers. Not bad music, not exactly, but bleak and melancholy and a strain on the ears, and just loud enough to make conversation impossible, should anyone wish to converse.

Generally, no one did.

A handful of patrons sat at random around the dark and grimy room, staring into their drinks or off into space, not looking at each other, not so much as a civil nod. This was not the place for civility.

It was a typical night and no one expected otherwise, none there hoped for any more or less from their drinking place or from their lives.

And then the music stopped.

It stopped abruptly, with no hiss of interference or record scratch, just silence that fell with the grace of an anvil and was in itself so deafening that it took a moment for those present even to register the change.

The town records clerk was first to notice, rousing from his reverie and frowning as he looked around, his eyes meeting the confused gaze of the librarian sitting one table over to his left.

“What happened?” he asked.

The librarian shrugged. “Maybe it’s broken?”

“Wouldn’t be a bad thing if it was,” said the clerk, and the librarian snorted.

“Maybe they’ll switch it for something good,” another voice chimed in, this one belonging to a man the clerk vaguely recognised. Did he work for the bank? No… the insurance company, maybe?

“Let’s hope so,” the librarian agreed.

“I hope so,” said a fourth voice from behind the clerk’s right shoulder. “If I never hear that whatever-stank again it will be too soon.”

“Hoobastank,” supplied the librarian, and they all groaned.

“Even the name’s bloody awful,” said the clerk, and the other men all nodded their agreement, sliding their chairs ever so slightly closer as they did, drawn by the unifying power of a shared grievance.

On the other side of the bar a similar conversation was occurring.

“Finally, I can hear myself think,” growled Leroy, still glaring at his beer like it had done him a personal wrong, but doing so in peace and quiet at least.

The man down the bar to his left sneezed, startling the man down the bar to his right, who had been dozing into his mudslide. “What?” said the sleepy man. “Wha’s happ’nin?”

The sneezy man wiped his nose with an enormous handkerchief. “Something’s wrong with the music,” he said.

“What music?” asked another man from further down the bar, blinking wide, guileless eyes. “Was there music?”

“Of course there was music,” growled Leroy, glaring at the dopey man.

“Loud music,” agreed the sneezy man.

“Kept me awake,” muttered the sleepy man as his eyes drifted shut. Leroy snorted.

They all turned to look as the door to the back room opened and another man entered, wringing his hands anxiously and blushing bright pink, the sweat on his forehead glistening beneath the neon glare of the bar lights.

“Um,” he whispered, far too quietly to be heard over the faint buzz of conversation that now filled the bar. He tried again. “Um,” he said, slightly louder.

Leroy felt a flare of anger oh his behalf. This bashful man was just trying to get their attention and no one was taking any notice.

“HEY ALL OF YOU,” he shouted at the very top of his lungs, turning so that the men at the back of the room would be sure to hear him too. “THIS GUY HERE IS TRYING TO TELL US SOMETHING,” he continued, pairing his bellow with a nasty glare that killed every last conversation in the room. “WHY DON’T YOU JERKS SHUT UP AND LISTEN TO HIM?”

The bashful man was pinker than ever but he nodded gratefully at Leroy. “Um,” he said for a third time, and every ear in the place strained to hear him. “I—I’m so sorry, but the music seems, ah, to be, er, broken.”

“What’s wrong with it?” called the clerk.

“I don’t know,” the bashful man confessed. “I can get someone in to look at it tomorrow, but it’s too late to do anything tonight. I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be,” said the librarian. “I’d rather talk with this group of scoundrels than listen to another note of that shit.”

A chorus of “ayes” and “huzzahs” rose from the men around him, the clerk and the insurance man, and several others who had gathered around them to raise a pint in merriment together. Men whose day jobs left them drained and hopeless and who now preened in delight at being referred to as “scoundrels,” knowing it was as far from the truth as anything could be and yet feeling that somehow, deep in a place they hadn’t known they possessed, that secret place that brought them dreams of forests and campfires and glad camaraderie, scoundrels they might actually be.

“Doesn’t bother us—achoo!—either,” said the sneezy man, who had moved to sit next to the sleepy man and nudge him with a gentle elbow whenever he began to doze off. Leroy noted that the dopey man was now flanked by two companions, one white-whiskered with round, wire-rimmed glasses and the other wearing a broad grin that Leroy suspected ought to annoy him but instead made him feel like he’d found something long missing from his life. The happy man raised his glass to Leroy, and Leroy raised his in return.

“Doesn’t look like there’s a problem here,” he told the bashful man. “Why don’t you join us—” he’d meant to say join me, but the us he spoke instead felt far more right “—for a drink?”

The bashful man looked over at the group in the far corner, now laughing uproariously and toasting each other’s exploits, then back at Leroy. “Okay,” he said. “I’d like that, I think. Thanks.” He smiled shyly. “Thanks for everything.”

“No trouble at all, brother,” replied Leroy.

Neal followed as Henry raced up the winding staircase to the third floor and burst through the door to the apartment. Through it Neal could see Killian standing in the middle of an open-plan living space with his head bent towards that of a blonde woman, whispering in her ear. Their pose was unmistakably intimate, his hand curled around her waist and hers resting lightly on his chest, their heads touching. They turned when he entered the room and both smiled, strangely rigid smiles, Neal thought.

The woman’s face he could swear he recognised, though he couldn’t place it, and vague recognition definitely shouldn’t make him feel so angry at the sight of them together, or cause a stab of jealousy to pierce his gut when Killian’s fingers tightened on her waist and he pulled her almost imperceptibly closer.

So why did it?

Neal forced his emotions down and returned their smiles in kind and Henry, seemingly oblivious to the odd tension in the room, said, “Mr Cassidy, this is my mom, Emma.”

“Your mom!” Neal cried in astonishment, then wondered why he was astonished.

“Yep!” Henry’s bright grin faded slightly at the look on his face and Neal attempted to smooth his features as Emma stepped forward and offered him her hand. “It’s nice to meet you,” she said.

“And yo—” Neal began, when he realised in a flash of memory where he’d seen that face before. “Wait—did you say Emma? Emma… Swan? The sheriff?”

“That’s right.”

He could place her now, sitting at the end of the table at the town council meetings, sighing and tapping her pen impatiently. Neal frowned again as he tried to remember what he knew about Emma Swan. It was… not much. He didn’t know much about anyone in Storybrooke, and for the first time that felt wrong. He stared at her as he strained to remember, watching as she toyed absent-mindedly with the chain around her neck, the ring on her wedding finger catching the light.

“You’re married?” he shouted, and that gut feeling flared again when he saw her glance back at Killian, silently seeking support from her husband.

“Yeah, we—” Emma began, but Neal interrupted her.

“No,” he said, forcing the fury and jealousy down again and making an attempt to smile. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked. Of course you’re married. Henry’s parents.”

“Yeah,” Emma smiled in relief and from the corner of his eye Neal could see the tension drain from Killian’s stance. “Hey, don’t worry about it. Come in and sit down, Neal. It’s okay if I call you Neal?”

“Sure.”

“Do you want a beer or something?”

“Yeah, thanks.” Neal was starting to think he needed a hell of a lot more than a beer, but it was better than nothing. His gut was roiling and his head felt stuffed with cotton balls, and there was a distant buzzing noise in the back of his mind, like white noise from a broken television. He tried to force himself to think, to remember more about Emma, about Killian, about all these things that seemed to be teasing at the edges of his mind, but the harder he tried the louder the buzzing grew. He gave his head a hard shake and then another, and ignored Emma’s surprised look when she returned from the kitchen in time to catch him doing it. She pasted on a smile and handed him a beer.

“So Henry tells us you’re reopening the pawn shop,” she said, sitting next to him on the sofa and taking a pull from her own beer. She smelled like flowers, clean and sweet, and gods, he could swear it was familiar. Her scent slammed into him like a Mack truck, carrying memories of something he could feel but not touch, as powerful as they were indistinct. Why couldn’t he remember?

He gulped his beer and tried to concentrate on her question. “Yeah. I guess,” he said. “Kinda sudden, I know. I just found out recently that the place used to belong to my father.”

“Oh?” Emma’s voice rose a bit too high on the question.

Neal frowned at her. “Uh huh. I don’t remember much about my papa—er, I mean my dad. So it was a pretty big surprise to find out about it. But Henry, he’s been a major help with everything. I probably couldn’t have done it without him.” He looked at Emma and warmth bloomed in his chest. “Thanks for letting him come by.”

“Of course,” she said with a smile. “But you know, with Henry it’s sometimes hard to stop him.”

“That’s what, um, Killian said.”

“What did I say?” asked Killian, perching on the arm of the sofa next to Emma as Henry came to sit on the floor.

“That sometimes when Henry decides he wants something there’s not much we can do to stop him,” Emma replied.

“Aye, unquestionably,” said Killian. “The lad is a force of nature when he sets his mind on a thing.”

There was so much pride in his voice as he said it, and so much pleasure in Henry’s answering grin, and so much love on Emma’s face as she looked between them and her fingertips absently traced patterns along Killian’s thigh as his played with the ends of her hair, and suddenly it was all just too much. They rose up and they choked him, all the feelings between these three people and the ones churning in himself, and it was too much and too strong and too confusing, and the buzzing in his head was so loud he could barely think straight.

Blindly he set his beer down, hoping he managed to get it onto the coffee table, and lurched to his feet.

“Is everything all right, mate?” Killian’s voice hovered just at the edge of his consciousness, and the mate made Neal want to punch him.

“I’m fine,” he growled. “I’m just—not feeling very well. Think I should go.”

“Oh.” Emma stood as well and approached him cautiously, taking him gently by the shoulders, her hands warm through the fabric of his t-shirt. She tried to catch his eye but he evaded her.

“I’m really fine,” he said, stepping back. “I just gotta go. Maybe we can do this another time.”

“Well, if you’re sure,” she said.

“Are you sure?” Henry asked. He was clearly trying to be calm but his eyes were so disappointed, and again Neal felt a surge of emotion that was far too strong for the circumstances. He shouldn’t care about disappointing some kid he only met a few weeks ago. But he did. He did.

“I just—I feel like—” he stammered, groping desperately for the words he needed to say, to explain. And then Henry stepped forward and hugged him.

Henry hugged him, and Neal’s arms came around the boy in return, automatically, naturally, like they’d done it before. He looked down at Henry’s eyes, big and brown and so damned familiar, so different from the clear green and blue eyes of his parents.

Was that even possible?

“I—” he tried again, but Henry interrupted.

“Please stay,” he said. “I don’t want you to go.”

“I—damn it.” Neal snarled. He wanted to go, wanted to run, fast and far away from all of this mess and tangle of emotions hot as fire and memories thin as smoke. But he couldn’t. He couldn’t bear for Henry to be disappointed in him.

“I’ll stay,” he said, and the world exploded.

Sleeping curses broke elegantly, the Dark Curse dramatically, but this odd chimaera of a hybrid curse, cobbled together from odds of this and ends of that, bound by Oz magic and twisted through the mirror world… this curse shattered. It burst into shards like the very mirrors that made it possible and Emma, Regina, and Zelena gasped in unison as they sensed its fracture. There was no burst of light, no gasp of awakening, just a sharp shock and then memories and then…

The world blurred, shifted, settled, and then snapped back into focus. The colours and shapes and sounds of Storybrooke were themselves again, the breeze through the town was warm and welcoming and the trees in the forest tall and straight, their eerie menace wholly gone.

Emma looked at Killian, eyes wide.

“What is it, love?” he asked, reaching for her and pulling her close. “What was that?”

“I think…” Emma lowered her voice to a whisper. “I think the curse just broke.”

“Really? How do you know?”

“I—I felt it. I felt it shatter and its magic is… well, it’s everywhere.”

Neal was staring at Henry, blinking rapidly, then a huge grin split his face. “Henry?” he said, pulling his son in for a bone-cracking hug. “Oh my God, Henry. I’ve missed you.”

“Um.” Henry was still reeling from what had felt like an earthquake. He looked past Neal to where Emma and Killian were standing with their arms around each other, whispering frantically, then his eyes lit up with triumph as the pieces fell into place. “Have you?” he said.

“Yeah, kid.” Neal loosened his hold and ruffled Henry’s hair. “I did. I—wait.” The smile faded from his face, replaced with a scowl as he turned to Emma and Killian. “What’s going on here?”

They exchanged a look. “What do you mean?” asked Emma. “You were cursed—”

“Yeah, I know that, but I mean you—you two—” He gestured at them, his scowl deepening as they unconsciously drew closer to each other. “You aren’t actually—it was the curse for you too, right? All this is just the curse.”

“No, mate,” said Killian gently. “We weren’t cursed. Emma was briefly, sort of, but Henry and I never were.”

“Then you’re really—” Something dark and angry flared in Neal’s eyes.

“Yeah,” said Emma. “We’re married.”

“You married him,” sputtered Neal, almost choking on the words. “The pirate? The one who fu—” he broke off with a glance at Henry “—who took my mother away. Him, of all people.” He stared at them, shaking his head, then gave a bitter, grating laugh. “So much for your word, huh Hook?” he said. “You remember, your word that you gave me, to back the hell off and give me a chance to be a family with my son and my—well, her.”

“A lot has happened since I made that promise,” said Killian, as calmly as he could when the nasty curl of Neal’s lip was making him wish he was wearing his hook. “A lot has changed Bae.”

Neal hissed an angry breath. “Don’t call me that.”

“Neal, then,” Killian amended. “As you like. We have much to discuss, lad, why don’t you—”

“I’m not a lad,” snapped Neal. “I’m as old as you are in this realm, maybe older. I’m not that boy you knew.”

“You’re right of course. I’m sorry.” Killian’s voice was genuinely contrite now, his expression sorrowful. “I do know that. Sometimes I just—forget.”

Emma’s arm was still around his waist and she squeezed him reassuringly. “Look, I know there’s a lot we need to talk about,” she said. “And I promise you, Neal, we will explain everything. But right now the curse has just broken and people are going to be confused. So can we table all this, please, until we’ve had a chance to figure out what we have to do?”

“Do for what?” asked Henry. “Isn’t the curse broken?”

“Yeah it is.” Emma shivered at the sharp, dangerous feel of the magic that had come untethered by the shattering curse. “But that’s not necessarily the end of our problems.”

“So what do we need to do?” asked Killian.

“I’m not sure yet. Let’s start by finding Regina. And my parents.”

@katie-dub @kmomof4 @teamhook @stahlop @mariakov81 @snowbellewells @thejollyroger-writer @jennjenn615 @tiganasummertree @lfh1226-linda @winterbaby89 @ultraluckycatnd @resident-of-storybrooke

#cs fic #cs ff #cs ff au #canon divergence #3b canon divergence #alternative 3b #captain swan #captain cobra #captain cobra swan #background outlaw queen #background snowing #curses #cursed storybrooke #broken curses #no tlk #more of a group-lk #bring back the love #their way by moonlight #profdanglaisstuff

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bluepenguinstories · 5 years ago

Text

Happiness Overload Chapter Fifty-One (True)

It was a usual morning: a spiral of negativity started off the day and threatened to follow me like an obsessive fan.

What was it about having this power that has made me feel so powerless? It didn’t even feel like I experienced any form of happiness. Like it was never a part of me. But that wasn’t true at all, was it? This creature had been with me far longer than I had known. It was the reason I was able to evade capture so long and be able to live a life of secrecy. But it being a part of me was also the reason why I was where I was, with the feeling of constant collapse. Not a sense of security. No. I had felt that before I became who I am now.

That was correct. Before the power, I hadn’t been so powerless. I was more secure. I had a greater sense of my mortality. I lived with my past a secret, aware of the fate I was meant to experience. Right before I became the demon, I was fated to become a different demon, and you know what? I accepted it. After years of evading and hiding, I decided that when they took me, I would not resist.

So many other versions of myself where I had led the same life and died in order to become a greater evil, the only difference I had was encountering that meddler. For a brief moment, when I had returned home and watched as my mental state crumbled before me, I had the reignited idea to resist, to defy my fate, and live the life I wanted.

But if it was a choice between being a murderous machine or an unstable entity, wouldn’t that mean that I was doomed from the very beginning? To live a life with a timer over your head signifying when you would become a sacrifice. I think if I had the knowledge of my options earlier in life, I would have dug my fingers into my skull and tore apart my brain, ending both myself and the opportunity for anyone to use me for one of their experiments.

I didn’t even think that was an option anymore. But if it was, would I choose it? ‘In a heartbeat’, is what I feel like my answer should be, but honestly, I don’t know anymore. That’s the biggest problem with what I have become. Not the dark thoughts, not the sickness that often accompanied it, but the uncertainty. The instability. How could I claim to be any happier when I had lost my grip on my emotions? I used to be able to suppress them so well, and now look at me.

Those were just a fraction of the thoughts that pervaded. Short dialogues with myself that grew into ideas of how I could rid myself of the plague that was my existence.

What didn’t help was the headache that developed right as I woke up; my eyes opened but it felt like the strings in window shutters tangled up in each other. Although my vision was blurred, beside me, I recalled what was on my arm.

“Be kind...be kind…” I croaked out the words. My mouth felt so dry. “Be kind…”

But yes. I tried to do what I could. Even as inside, the words repeated of how I was never meant to live, I felt another feeling beside me, the part of me that wanted the life of peace I had always wanted. The life where I could be next to the one I love and live out the rest of my days with her. It still felt like everything I did was an exercise in futility, but I tried. Damn it, I wanted to believe in the words on the bracelet. To be kind to myself, just as I wished to be with others.

Oh, but there were other problems, all of which also gave off a familiar feeling. There was the way in which I stood up, the room around me still so dark, many objects in the room were still shadowed outlines. Just like the morning prior, I stood and felt multiple sensations at once: first, a dizziness, followed by an increase in the intensity of my headache. Then, my stomach twisted into knots and it felt as if a vile chemistry act had been performed and the results were soon to bubble up to the surface. Violent and acidic. Too many foreign chemicals reacting to one another.

I stumbled, my dizziness, the aches of my head pulsating as I moved. I found myself to the bathroom, then I felt my consciousness fade, for just a few seconds.

That was the most mercy my body would allow me before my mouth burned as yellow-orange bile spilled forth from me and into the toilet bowl. It kept happening. I felt like that would be the way I would finally die, in a most unpleasant and undignified manner.

“Why is this happening here? This shouldn’t be happening?” I managed to squeeze the words out, somewhere between a pained moan and a croak. There were coughs, but it seemed like it was going to stop. But then another push, and a little more found its way out. I wiped my mouth, then tried to speak once more.

“At least...I don’t see any blood…” I still didn’t understand why I felt that way, but I tried to take comfort in how bad it wasn’t. “But still, why am I throwing up?”

“You have a hangover,” I heard the reply in the tone of an odd mixture of daft and matter-of-fact. “It’s quite common when you drink too much, really.”

Velvet stood at the door. I had forgotten all about her. Lost in my own head. I turned my head, my vision still a watercolor blur. Still, just from her posture, it was clear how careless she acted.

“Oh! Crap! That’s right! I was going to make orange juice for everyone so I could prevent just that, but then I passed out! God damn it, I’ll be right back!”

I heard her run off, her heels making loud thumps down the stairs. If her plan was to wake everyone else up, she might have been successful. I turned my attention back to the mess I had made, ashamed at my physical condition.

Right. Hangover. It made too much sense. Velvet would come back, to try to hydrate me. But that wouldn’t do. If I could do any magical act to make myself happier, then a hangover shouldn’t have been a big deal.

Into the kitchen I went, muttering obscenities under my breath (as opposed to real loud, because believe it or not, I didn’t want to wake the others up). I wasn’t, like, the smartest when it came to everything (yeah, yeah, real shock) but I was sure there had to be something in the kitchen to make orange juice with. If there wasn’t, then there had to be fresh oranges or something. How hard could it be to make orange juice from scratch? You just had to squeeze the things, right?

But the search was proving fruitless, no pun intended. I tried a cabinet and saw nothing but random medical supplies.

“What the heck? Who needs all these meds?” I complained, even as I tried to keep my voice low. Maybe I’d find a med to cure hangovers among the random assortment. Was worth a try, anyway. I started looking at each pill bottle, then shaking my head and tossing them on the floor.

“Nope. Nope. Not that one.”

None of these pill bottles seemed to be of any use to me. Then again, I didn’t know much about hangover cures other than “orange juice good”. Oh well, I continued my search and tossed more bottles over my shoulder.

“Trent won’t like it if he sees what you’re doing,” the gloomy voice of Verse caught me off guard and I found myself startled as I turned around.

“It...it’s not what it looks like!” I stammered.

“And what does it look like?”

I looked down, only to see a clean kitchen floor. I looked back up and saw the cabinet closed.

“What the…”

“You’re tired, Velvet. How much sleep did you get?” She asked, though I wasn’t sure how concerned she really was.

“Heh. You got me. I got a little bit, but I guess I couldn’t stay asleep for long.”

“I see.”

My eyes stayed locked on to her movements as she made her way past me and opened the fridge, then pulled out a pitcher. She brought a cup down from the cupboard above, then poured the contents of the pitcher.

“Was this what you were looking for?” She pointed to her glass of juice.

“Ho...how? What?” Ugh. She was right. I was tired. “Well, taking that for your hangover?”

“It’s already gone,” she stated. “It didn’t make me happy, so I no longer have one.”

Why are you talking like Blanc? Was what I wanted to say, but I didn’t. I kept that shit in my thoughts.

She went and sat down at the table. Eh, I guess I’d do the same. Have a bit of chit-chat. Nothing too serious.

“So today’s the big day, huh?”

She took a sip from her juice and hummed. “Mhm.”

“Think everyone’ll be okay, I mean, what with the whole partying and stuff?”

She set the glass down.

“I’ll be honest, Velvet: I still don’t want to take you or anyone else there. Regardless of anyone’s actions last night, no one would have been prepared. The chances of us being ‘okay’ are slim to none. I’m doing this anyway because you were so insistent on it and I’m sure if anyone else wants to go along, you’d be insistent of making sure they come along as well.”

“Cheery as ever, I see.”

“As long as we stick together, I’ll do everything in my power to keep everyone safe. I’m sure you’ll do the same.”

Hm. That was an improvement, I guess?

“Actually, now that you mention it, if I recall, you said that you were planning on going there anyway. What were you planning on doing there?”

“That is not your concern.”

“Does it have anything to do with why you don’t want to bring us along?”

“I think I have made my case. But yes, it does complicate matters.”

“How do you intend to carry out your plan if you want us all to stick together?”

“I don’t know. Maybe I won’t go through with it. The safety of others should come first.”

“Go through with it...what were you going to go through with, assuming you were going to be alone?”

She drank from her cup again and kept her mouth on the cup, as if she was trying to avoid the question. Then, she set the cup down once again and spoke.

“I don’t think I need to tell you that.”

“Come on! If it’s a matter of our safety, I think I ought to know!”

“It’s a matter for me, and me alone.”

“Please? You can trust me! We’re friends, aren’t we?”

“I didn’t come here to make friends.”

Wow. What a cliché line. Right out of a cheesy competition show where one guy just tries to be way too cocky. Was that her?

“That’s not what you said last night! You called me the ‘F’ word!”

“...Fucker.”

“No! Not that one! Friend! You said I’m a good friend!”

“I’m sorry,” she closed her eyes and looked away. “I don’t remember. I must have been drunk at the time.”

“Why, you –”

She sighed. “If you really must know, I plan to end my life.”

That struck me. I gasped and pounded my fists on the table.

“What?! Really?! You used present tense, not past! That means you still want to do such a thing!”

“Relax, Velvet. I didn’t mean anything quite so drastic. I just plan to end my life as it currently is so I can start anew. That’s all.”

“Oh. That’s. Um. Not bad, I guess?” I tried to think it over. “Wait! You’re being vague!”

“It doesn’t matter. Your focus should be on saving the world, shouldn’t it?”

Ugh. She got me there. I GUESS.

“You right. Girl, when you right, you right. Speaking of, shouldn’t I pour everyone a glass of orange juice?”

She shook her head.

“If hangovers make them unhappy, they will not have them.”

Uh. Right. Okay. I GUESS that was how it worked.

I rubbed my temple. “Sure, whatever. I’m tired. It’s 5:30 AM, the sun’s barely even out, I must be delusional. Looks like what I need is some breakfast.”

I began scouring the kitchen, opening cupboard after cupboard. To my shock, there were many cupboards full of beans, though it looked like there was a cereal box behind all those bags of beans. I just had to reach in and toss those beans aside.

“What’s with all these beans?! There should be less beans!” I complained, as I threw bags of beans behind me. “We need less beans! Less beans, I say!”

“I’m not going to say anything,” Verse replied.

I looked down on the floor and saw the mess that I had made. Then I turned to Verse and grinned.

“I guess you could say I spilled the beans, hehe.”

“How do you even function?” She groaned.

Well, first off, maybe it was the fact that I was alone in a room with someone who just the night prior considered me a friend, but I was still terrified of her and her motivations. It seemed like she wasn’t so bad, but it was still nerve-wracking. No. That wasn’t it.

It was the fact that it was the big day. When we were going to all go and I was going to try to do the thing. Was I really so confident in my ability? Sure, there was Area 51. Twice, in fact, but third strike, you’re out, right?

None of us were prepared. I knew that already. I had to know that. But I was always the one who acted reckless and made things up as she went. I wasn’t used to things being a big group, trying to protect everyone, and even then, all the times I did these outlandish self-proposed missions, I at least had an idea of what I was getting into. Instead, it’s only a suspicion that it will be difficult. That didn’t work, but all the time I had allowed myself was up and the big day was upon us.

I really wanted to be more functional and set a good example for everyone, but my confidence was being put to the test. At the very least, I ought to put myself together before everyone else woke up.

I sighed.

“I think I’ll just cook some beans…”

As I got to work, I looked back toward Verse.

“Hey, do you think the others would like beans?”

She shrugged.

“Do you like beans?” I figured since she was up, I could just ask her.

“You don’t have to do this.”

“Nonsense! If we all leave this world on an empty stomach, we won’t be in good shape for battle.”

“You really are kind, aren’t you? Wanting everyone to be well.”

I shrugged. “Eh? Sure, I guess? Don’t you want everyone to be well, too?”

“Yeah. You’re right. It’s just, you remind me a little of Juniper, is all.”

“I do, huh? Well, she is cute, so I’ll take that as a compliment. Hey, do you think her and I would make a good couple?”

“Watch it,” she growled.

“What? Just, like, hypothetically. You have a wife, anyway. Hey, maybe in the universe you’re from, I’m married to her and –”

“Seriously, cut that out!” Then she covered her mouth. I was a bit surprised, myself. What was so wrong with a little bit of what-ifs?

It was a bit concerning, really. It seemed like she started to shake.

“Are you okay? I was just –”

“You...you’ve got that imp. You should appreciate her more.”

Ah! That’s what it was!

“You’re right, my bad. I just got caught up in potential pairings.”

Speaking of Coriander, which was a rather spicy name, I wondered how she was doing. I imagined she was still asleep, but I hoped she didn’t drink too much.

“What are you two doing up so early?” Coriander stood just outside of the kitchen and announced her presence in a tired and weary voice. “Especially you, Velvet, you usually take forever to wake up.”

I was at a loss for words. She was right, a common theme of the morning; everyone around me being right and me looking like a total fool.

“I couldn’t sleep well,” I admitted. “Too excited, ‘cause, it’s finally going to happen.”

“And why are you eating beans?” She rubbed her eyes, as if maybe she were still dreaming. Maybe the two of us were sharing the same dream and it was quite the romantic one. Yeah. That was a legit possibility.

“Y’know, sometimes you gotta have those beans,” I told her as if it were a plausible excuse.

“Eh. I’ll stick with cereal.”

The fuck?! I was trying to go for cereal, too! This isn’t fair!

Beside me, where Verse was, I saw a hand appear on her shoulder, and Blanc popped up.

“I get what you’re about to do, but it’s not the right time,” they told Verse.

“There may not be a right time. I have to know before I go.”

“Even if it hurts others?”

“How long have you been here, Blanc?” I asked, not even surprised anymore.

“I’ve been sleeping on the floor next to the table! I just thought I’d get up because it seemed something interesting was happening!” Blanc grinned. For sure, I must have been dreaming all this.

“How are you feeling, Coriander?” Verse turned her attention to my not-girlfriend-but-may-as-well-be.

She shrugged. “Tired, but fine, I guess? Why?”

“I want to help you, but I only know one way to do so. You deserve a future.”

The next thing I witnessed was too painful to be a dream. More of a feverish nightmare.

My rest was pleasant and without interruptions. No recollections of my past self as Mavis; becoming so bloodied and beaten that it turned me crazed. The desire to replace someone. To tear myself apart, the unwanted desire. None of those memories played out.

But what did wake me up was commotion coming from the direction of the kitchen. Voices, the usual banter, that much I was sure of. But whatever the ones the two said to one another, however meaningless the banter, it stirred me awake and when I jolted up from the couch, I looked over to see Velvet and Verse in the kitchen.

Those two troublemakers, those shady fiends...I knew they had to be up to no good. But I had to rub my eyes to make sure I was actually seeing what I thought I was seeing. After rubbin’ ‘em out, then blinkin’ a few times for good measure, I figured I must have been awake.

So I got up, wiped the drool off my mouth (if Velvet found out, she’d never let me live it down. I’d rather die than admit such a terrible thing), then walked up to the kitchen.

I addressed the velvet elephant in the room named Velvet who was up to her old shenanigans. I decided I’d just go with cereal, rather than...beans? Seriously? Who in their right mind would have beans for breakfast? Whatever. My mind was perfect, which meant cereal was in the cards for me.

But before I even managed to step foot into the kitchen, Blanc jumped up next to Verse, which meant there were now three people in the kitchen who were untrustworthy (I swear, nothing but fake-ass mofos in this kitchen).

Their words mostly went through one ear and right out the other, but then Verse said my name and I remembered that I was both awake, and in the realm of reality.

“How are you feeling, Coriander?” She asked. How should I answer, something like ‘I’m getting pretty fed up with all these hoes’? Nah. I had dignity to protect.

“Tired, but fine, I guess. Why?”

Her next words sounded like she was chanting some sort of spell, but they were just normal words. God damn, real life is sometimes sure creepier than any dream.

“I want to help you, but I only know one way to do so. You deserve a future.”

No. Those words were kind enough. She wasn’t too bad. She tried to help me. She tried to help me, but she was useless, just like I was, just like everyone was. There was no help. No way to change the past. No way to –

“Aah!” I cried out, a sharp pain rising, but in a spot I couldn’t quite identify. My legs felt like they had grown denser, solidified into clay, but a clay that had been weathered and was giving out and everything within felt so weak that I felt my knees drop to the floor.

I clutched my stomach – no – my chest. It ached so bad. Then there was my head. My eyes grew heavier. It felt like I was dying, like a great gravitational force weighing upon me. But that wasn’t right, either. It wasn’t like I was dying; it was like there was nothing else to do but be dying.

“Wha...what did you do to me?” The words choked their way out of me. It sounded so low, stifled, even. It felt like I was losing all my breath. All the oxygen was leaving me. There was just a weight. I was the weight.

We don’t need any dead weight. I am the dead weight.

I pounded my fists on the floor. My face was now down against it. I tried to scream, but couldn’t. I seemed to have lost the energy. As if it were my last gasping breath, I spit out the words.

“What? What did you do?!”

Velvet ran up to me and wrapped her arms around my back and chest.

“Are you okay?!” She sounded concerned. Genuinely. But it sounded so far away.

“She did something to me...I know it…” I seethed. “I feel like I’m dying.”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t know!” I managed to cry out. “I just know she did something! It has to be!”

I heard Velvet speak once more:

“Did you do something to her?”

“No...I...just wanted to help her. I swear.”

That was weird. Verse’s voice also sounded concerned. But then why was I so sure she had something to do with what I was feeling, or not feeling?

Or maybe I’m just blaming my weakness on others once again.

“Just leave me to die. All of you,” I told them all. Those words sounded so soulless, but they seemed like the right ones to speak. As someone without a soul, let alone one who didn’t even deserve one.

I thought that would be it, and my consciousness would fade as my limbs fell off my body. No. Those were the only parts of me I felt like I still had. Then, my heart grew heavier, and the beating felt so front and center. An ache, and my hand clutched my chest, held Velvet’s hand tight.

I began to breathe uncontrollably; tears tore their way out from my face and would not stop.

“I’m so sorry! For who I have been! For who I still am! I need to go!” It was moving too fast, it wasn’t even a part of me. It hurt me too much to be a part of me. Rather, it was something that escaped from me.

Velvet’s hand moved up, somehow while my hand was still over hers. Did she move mine or did I just not let go? She held my chin up so that our eyes were both locked-on to each other.

“Listen to me: you don’t need to apologize for who you are. You already know I embrace every part you show to me.”

The tears continued to flow out. She wiped them.

“Will you be okay? Should we wait another day? I don’t think the world will end if we do.”

“What am I? Who am I?”

She laughed. “Avoiding the question like usual, huh? Okay, you are the artist formerly known as Birch. Also known as the cool as spicy Coriander, and maybe later you’ll change your name to Sage or Paprika. I don’t know. We’ll see, won’t we? As for what you are? Sexy as fuck.”

“Be serious, asshole,” I grumbled.

She laughed, then held me tighter.

“See? You’re still you.”

I let out a mighty sigh. That was easy to say, but it was too hard to believe. It felt like there was a part of me missing and I couldn’t even identify what that part was.

“We’re doing this. You and I, we’re going to get those bastards,” I declared. My sense of self had returned, or more like, I had retained it in spite of everything. “I’m not going to let something like this keep me down.”

I still couldn’t find my footing to get back up, but it didn’t matter. However weakened I was, I would do all in my power, even if that power was limited, to tear down The Flashbulb.

Velvet and I both scowled and fixed our gazes at Verse.

“If you did something to make her this way, you ought to speak up,” Velvet demanded. Then she got up. “I’m serious. Even if I can’t prove it, either, I trust Coriander.”

“I didn’t! I swear!”

Blanc looked over. “I told you now wasn’t the right time. I know you meant well, but you can’t always know how things will affect people.”

“What are you talking about, Blanc? Did she do something or not?”

“Ehehe...well, you see...the truth is a little more complicated.”

What’s with that nonchalant attitude? I really didn’t like them.

“I never wanted to hurt anyone!” She continued to defend herself as her voice trembled. Her lips quivered, her hands shook. “I just thought –”

“Thought what?”

“No! This isn’t right! You shouldn’t see me like this!”

Damn. She was going to wake the others up if she wasn’t careful. Then again, I was surprised I didn’t do the same.

“You should all be asleep! It would make me happy to see you all well rested and in good spirits!” She shouted.

There was that word again. Why didn’t it affect me as much? Why did it before? It just sounded so foreign now.

Without room to ponder further, I found myself grow tired and my consciousness slipped.

So there it was: the result. Should have figured it wouldn’t be so easy. Yet there I was, as I sat, and watched the three of them passed out on the floor, so easily. I carried Velvet off to her bedroom, then went back to Coriander. Blanc...they were fine anywhere. While those two I could make forget, Blanc was a little beyond my power.

Blanc stood back up. I looked over to them, my expression back to a dull and subdued one.

“I’m surprised you didn’t try to stop me, being what you are.”

“I figured warning you was enough. Besides, you did a good thing, it just wasn’t good at the time.”

“I know you can make someone the happiest they can be in an instant, so why do you prefer the slow burn approach?”

They shrugged. “Feels more natural? Fun, perhaps?”

“I feel like your definition of ‘natural’ and mine are different. It doesn’t matter how long it takes for something, if you still force it, it’s not natural.”

“Hm. Mm. Yeah! I suppose so, huh?” They beamed.

“Answer me: if you can make someone happy in an instant, can you also make someone un-happy in an instant?”

“Can I?” They sounded incredulous. “I think you can! You just have that effect on people!”

“Oh, fuck you!”

“Is happiness even a real emotion or is it just a thing that comes from you? What about other emotions? Do they just come from other vague entities?”

“You make it sound like things created aren’t real! You’re so silly! I don’t even have to do anything, anyway, so don’t you worry, Coriander can still be happy, just like you can!”

“I never suggested anything of the sort…”

Blanc ruffled my hair, which prompted a growl from me as I tried to swat their hand away.

“Silly-willy uwuvius! You’re not someone because they look like you, and you’re not someone because they are how you act!”

“Then who am I?”

“You’re every bit the nurse I thought you were when I first met you!”

...What. Yeah. Okay. Never mind. I should have known better than to question the logic of that black-haired weirdo.

“By the way, I agree: sleep will raise your spirits! See you again in a few hours!”

I didn’t even question it when I found myself pass out on the kitchen table as if their words served as a tranquilizer dart.

Wow. What a night. I feel like I had a weird dream about waking up earlier and making beans for breakfast, something that I’d never do in real life. Not only that, but I feel like there were other things, but y’know how dreams could be. Forget most but a small fraction.

Oh well, not that important. What was important were the things in store for me. In store for all of us.

I stretched and yawned. Next to me was Coriander, the spice bae.

“I guess I should get up and shower,” I said through yawns.

Coriander stirred in her sleep. I decided to give her a little nudge.

“Hey. Hey. Wanna shower together?”

“What’s wrong with you?” She mumbled, then shoved the pillow over her head. “And why are you awake before me? This is so not fair!”

“You can say we woke up at the same time and call it even, whaddya say?” I nudged her. “C’mon and let’s get some grub!”

“Fiiiine.”

We made our way downstairs and into the sacred food place.

“I feel like shit. Like I just had a bad time or something,” Coriander complained.

“You probably had one too many drinks. Nothing coffee can’t fix, right?”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right…”

She seemed to be in bad spirits, but as I said, was probably just low on energy. We trudged on into the kitchen, past the mess that was the aftermath of the party held the night before. Juniper and Trent were already up, serving themselves breakfast and taking to the table, where Verse looked down at a teacup, listless. She looked up, smiled a warm smile, then greeted us.

“It’s so good to see you two!” She sounded warm, sweet, fake. “Did you both sleep well?”

I tilted my head. “What’s wrong with this picture?”

“Yeah?! What gives?! I ought to sock you right here, right now!” Coriander roared.

“Whoa!” I waved my hands. “I didn’t mean to go that far! I just mean that this is pretty unusual.”

Coriander cleared her throat. “Er, yes. Sorry. Something came over me. I felt like I should be mad at you, but I’m not really sure why.”

“Fine enough,” Verse laughed. “And to answer your question, no.” Her expression changed. Lowered to the one I was more used to seeing from her. “I cannot be so positive. We must all face the realities of what awaits us.”

“Right after pancakes!” Juniper said in a sing-song voice.

I looked around. “Eh? Where’s Blanc?”

Trent shrugged. “Asleep on the couch.”

“I see…”

There was no doubt that I was no longer in some sort of haze, but maybe it was the tiredness that continued to make everything feel just a little off.

“Let’s focus on the positives for now,” Verse fixed her gaze on me. “Velvet, you have been known to work best with short time limits. If presented with a problem and a limited time to solve it, you will find a way. In short, you are badass.”

I laughed. “No need to be badass, only good and kind!”

“Which I am also not. Moving on, blue imp,” she turned her attention to Coriander.

“Uh? I have a name, asshole!” Coriander barked.

“Right. It’s just seeing you reminds me of someone else, though that other person differed from you in personality, and I know of no others of your stature with a similar personality as that person. Hm. Actually, there was one person...but I totally forgot about them.”

“Then why bring any of that up?!”

“Sorry, I lost my train of thought. I just wanted to tell you that your skills at building tech are unparalleled. No, I knew someone else once who could invent things, she was quite admirable...but that is neither here, nor there.”

“Just get to the fucking point!”

I could tell Coriander was getting pretty riled up, but I had to say, this all seemed rather trivial to me. I let those two bicker while I focused on the more important things.

“Hey Trent, where do you keep your cereal?”

“Ah, just down here,” he pointed to one of the cupboards down below. What a pain.

“All I wanted to say was that if you and Velvet put your heads together instead, you two could figure out the mechanisms within The Flashbulb’s headquarters with ease,” I heard Verse say in a huff.

“Then why bring up all those other people?! You probably made vague references to about ten!”

Damn. Did I zone out that much?

“Because if I can think about others, I won’t have to think about the demon that I am!”

“You guys, seriously?” I looked at both of them. “You’re going to fight with each other before we even get there? Whatever any of us think of each other, big deal. If we’re going as a group, we ought to try to put up with one another. Instead of going at each other’s throats, we should use that energy to fight our actual enemies.”

Sheesh. I couldn’t believe I had to scold those two. I fixed myself a bowl of cereal and sat in silence. Until everyone could agree to get along, I would ignore my surroundings and just eat.

“Sooo, how about those pancakes?” Juniper looked around.

“Juniper, I like you, but read the room,” I sighed. “Everyone’s on edge. Including me.”

“Oh. Yeah. I know. I just don’t know how else to act. I’m actually really nervous right now, too.”

I froze and looked at her hands, which shook, but she continued to eat.

“I-I know what it’s like to be scared and then want to focus on the positives. Because that’s how it is all the time. Or pretend that it’s okay. So that it will be okay. I don’t know if it will be okay, but I know that there are things that are okay. Like this pancake.”

“There is one thing that’s okay, whether or not you’ll be able to find anything positive once we enter: it’s okay to admit you’re afraid.”

“Is it okay to admit other things?”

“Like what?” I tilted my head.

“Like how I know a thing or two about putting things together, too! Not just bracelets, but...I can pick up on things pretty easily! I may not want to say so, and I may not be the best right away, but I can usually put two and two together.”

“I’m still not following.”

“That’s okay, because I am! Or rather, I’m not following!”

“Which is it?”

“I’m going there, even if I’m scared. It may kill me, but so is staying here. I’ve done so much for my brother, at the expense of myself, so I’d like to just go, for me. Not for any of you. Because to me, it’s somewhere new.”

“That’s ridiculous! That’s reckless!” Verse interjected.

“So? You can’t stop me,” she stuck her tongue out.

“Yes I can. I can just exclude you and only take Velvet and Coriander along. Easy.”

“You can, but you won’t. Because it’s too obvious.”

“What is?”

Hm. I didn’t want to say “this was getting interesting” but I sure didn’t expect it.

“You’re waaaaay too nice,” she stuck her tongue out.

“That’s rich coming from you,” Verse growled.

Juniper turned back to me. “I’m not the only one who sees it, am I?”

“What?”

“Hmm...this isn’t just a coincidence. I can feel it. But I don’t know how to explain it.”

I didn’t know either, but I think I noticed a pattern: all of us were people Blanc knew somehow. Well, except Coriander. So, maybe that wasn’t it.

“I just wonder, y’know? How me and my brother were like in that other universe Blanc met us in. And when they met this Verse person, y’know? It seemed like Blanc was hoping for this.”

Right. There was something there. Truth was stranger than fiction, but also, if Conrad taught me anything, it was that people tended to connect two very unconnected dots and make huge leaps. So, sometimes the truth was also much simpler than “aliens did it”, which was why I originally had a hard time believing the “alternate dimensions” thing to begin with.

“Blanc has a habit of wandering around a lot. I can assure you, I never met you or your brother before coming here.”

“Huh. I never said you did,” Juniper gave a blank stare. “In fact, I was just thinking that you sure don’t take long to form connections with people, do you?”

“Oh yeah. Huh. Like how you said I was a good friend last night,” I added.

“I’d rather you didn’t bring that up…” Verse growled. “I just had too much to drink. That’s all.”

“Or like how you listened to me talk about my insecurities,” Juniper added.

“Oh, same with me!” Coriander added. “Yeah, okay. You’re not so bad after all. I think I just woke up on the wrong side of the bed.”

As opposed to what side?

“Stop that. All of you. I’m not that nice,” Verse went on the defensive.

“You said I was quite generous,” Trent also butted in.

“Okay, that one’s a reach. I was just thanking you, that’s all. Proper etiquette.”

“You’re still wearing that bracelet,” Juniper pointed out.

“I just forgot I was wearing it. My skin’s going to break out in rashes, I’m sure of it.”

“You said you would treasure it.”

“You guys are all mean! I hate you all! I’m –”

We all burst out laughing.

“Oh my god! You’re acting like such a kid!” Coriander cried out. “I wouldn’t even act like that!”

Except you have. Plenty of times.

“Let’s hurry up and finish eating. We’re leaving after. Someone wake Blanc up.”

Turns out none of us had to. Blanc jumped up and bounced around the house. Not really, but it sure felt that way.

“I feel like I missed something fun!” They complained, though sounded more like a cheer. “Tell me everything!”

Nobody answered. Blanc looked disappointed, but that expression didn’t last.

“Are you ready to go, Blanc?” I asked.

“All the time!”

Blanc left the kitchen. Soon, I did too. Then the others.

In total, it took about an hour before we were all out the door. Nobody bothered with cleaning. We must have figured we would never see that place again. There was little in the way of packing. We didn’t know what would be appropriate to take with us. I should have said there was no packing, but I knew Coriander brought along her whole workstation in her pocket. As for me, I figured my wit would be enough, even if as I already said, I had little to no knowledge of the place. I already had the feeling I was screwed. Juniper brought along a wrench. Something I didn’t even know she had.

Trent stood by the door. It didn’t seem that important of note, but he wasn’t huddled with us outside.

“Now, I can’t stress this enough,” Verse began. “We must stay together at all times. We have a greater chance of survival if we all work to protect each other and utilize each other’s strengths. There’s no telling where we’ll end up when we get there, so everyone be on your guard.”

“If you don’t know where we’ll end up, why do you think you’re going to be the expert?” Juniper argued.

“What?! Are you serious right now?! I’m out here trying to keep you all safe and you’re questioning me?!”

“Sheesh. So uptight. You’re not going to make friends with that attitude, you know.”

“This isn’t about making friends!”

“You’re just trying to put a leash on me!”

Don’t think dirty thoughts. Don’t think dirty thoughts.

“I’m trying to do the right thing!”

Again? Really? More arguing? Right when we were getting ready to go?

“You two! Stop acting like an old married couple! We need to get this show on the road!”

“Why would you say something like that?!” Both of them yelled at me.

I put my palm on my face and shook it.

Verse cleared her thought. “You’re right. Sorry,” she reached into her pocket and pulled out a device. “With this, a portal will open up in front of us. Are you ready?”

Coriander and I nodded. Blanc walked in front of Verse and Juniper and bobbed their head and hummed “mhm.” Verse turned around behind her.

“What about you, Trent? We don’t have much time.”

Right. He was still at the door. Hadn’t moved.

“About that…” He looked back inside. “Well, the mess is only going to get bigger, but I think I’d like to try to clean up as much as I can. Slow the spread.”

“Just forget about it,” she shook her head. “You’re not gonna be around to see it.”

Juniper sighed. “I know this isn’t easy for you to admit, but you gotta be more direct. Verse isn’t as perceptive as she looks.”

Verse balked, but didn’t say anything.

“Sorry, you’re right,” he shook his head and smiled. “To put it simply, I’m staying behind.”

“You shouldn’t! The world will end! You should be with your sister and protect her, she’s useless on her own!” Verse protested.

“I knew you were way too nice,” Juniper looked displeased. “Didn’t you catch any of what I told him last night while we were all drinking and partying?”

“No? Why would I?”

“I told him he had to do what was right for him.”

“And?”

“And,” Trent spoke up. “It may not have much of an impact, but if there’s anyone left on Earth who could use medical attention, I’d like to be there for them. No profit motive, I just want to help people. It’s always been my thing, but I’ve just never really had the confidence to be of much help, and with all these hospitals gone, it felt that much harder. But it got me thinking. If I can scrounge up enough supplies, maybe I could move around and take care of anyone I come across.”

“That’s…”

“No, I know you want to say it’s a bad idea or something. It probably is. But it’s what I decided to do.”

“Please. After everyone else decided to go? Why?”

“Let them. I’ve just decided to do something different, that’s all,” he smiled.

“But you’ll die down here!”

“Aw, don’t think of it that way. I’d like to think it’ll happen sooner or later, so I’m just going to try to do something I wanted to do while I’m still around.”

“I’ll –” She started to get choked up. Familiar feeling. “I’ll miss you. You gave me a home when I was lost and you asked for little in return. I know I can be quite the asshole, and I might not have appreciated all that you’ve done as much as I should have, but it really meant a lot to me, and I’m proud to call you family.”

He chuckled. “Really? It was only a couple of days.”

She laughed right back. “To me, it was much longer than that.”

I felt like I stepped into a movie that was a totally different genre than the reality I existed in. I blinked. All the same people were still there.

Sure enough, the portal opened up. It looked more like a mirror, than anything. Some kind of mirror that we were just supposed to step through. An illusory mirror.

“It’s time for us to go,” Verse stepped forth and announced. “No more hesitation. Let’s go.”

Juniper followed behind. Behind even her...Blanc was there, who I saw shove both of them forward.

“LET’S GO LESBIANS, LET’S GO!” Blanc yelled.

“You just came along to yell that, didn’t you, Blanc?” I called out.

“Got me!” Blanc replied, then continued to cheer. “LET’S GO LESBIANS! LET’S GO!”

“Stop this! This is serious!” Verse commanded.

“Maybe it’s so serious that we should cheer too?” Juniper suggested.

“Hell, I’ll do it just to annoy tall angry lady,” Coriander jumped in.

“I just like the vibes! Let’s all get in on it!” I found myself saying.

Then, as a group, we entered, without knowing what awaited us there.

There wasn’t really anything for me in that place, but I went because I figured I would find something neat. Just like the others believed, in their own way, anyway. ‘Neat’ could have such a broad definition.

Actually, I considered just staying on Earth with Trent. Figured he and I could bond over things, though there wasn’t really much I knew that he and I had in common. I guess nerdy shit? Ah, but it could have been like a Beige thing. He could have relayed stories of his past and I’d learn so much more and nod along like they were such interesting tales of youth. You could learn a lot from a person just by sitting with them.

Maybe I didn’t need to learn anything. It would be nice to have some sort of company as the world was ending, someone friendly, even if there was little that company had in common with me. But in the end, I decided to explore a big maze in the void of the space between spaces.

Velvet and her gang didn’t know it yet, but I wasn’t going to stick with them. They were all cool people, but I didn’t really need to do anything. They were all capable. I was fine enough just being able to wander.

You could call it wanderlust, but that would make it sound sexual, so I wouldn’t, if I were you. Just call it wanderlike, instead. Or a platonic attraction to wandering. Wow, no. That was a mouthful. Oh well. You could figure it out if you wanted to, I wasn’t about to boggle my noggin with such noggin bogglers.

Let’s see...which way to wander…

Eenie, meenie, minie…

Left! I’ll turn left!

Okay, back to the ladies. Ciao.

We arrived at a vast corridor. Dimly lit, almost darkness. Some sort of pulsating lights, but a glow that seemed to be no discernible hue.

“Okay,” Verse announced. “Now that we’re here, our first order of business should be –”

“Whoa! Cool!” Juniper looked around, totally cutting off Verse’s order. “This place is so cool!” Then, she ran off straight ahead.

“No! No it’s not! Get back here! Hey!” Verse called to her, then ran off as well.

I was dumbfounded.

“Really? After she made such a big deal of us sticking together?” I threw my hands up.

“I knew it. Can’t trust tall ladies,” Coriander shook her head. “Especially can’t trust girls with pigtails.”

I looked behind me.

“What? Blanc’s gone too?”

“Yup. Can’t trust people with black hair, either.”

I turned toward Coriander and smirked.

“Guess it’s just you and me, huh?”

“Looks like it.”

“What do you say? ‘Til death do us part?”

“Sure,” she snorted. “Whatever that means. If I’ll be rid of you once we’re both dead, I’m in.”

We both bumped elbows and ran toward the hallway and turned right, where we hoped something would get figured out along the way.

#writing #stories #scifi #horror #drama #comedy #depression #happiness #happiness overload

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imagines-dreams · 5 years ago

Text

A Night in the Stark Household

Rating: G

Warnings: nothing, just fluffy fluff fluff

Summary: When Tony and Rhodey come home from a night out, the last thing they'd expect is for all the furniture to be upside down. Also, all the kids are upside down?

Word Count: 2042

~ - ~

Rhodey’s eyes widened. “Uh, Tony?”

Tony sighed. “I was just- Were you not listening? I was saying that-”

“Yeah, yeah, Pepper’s amazing and you’re worried, yeah, but you should probably-”

“I mean those weren’t my exact words, but-”

“Tony!” Rhodey grabbed his arm and pointed to the ceiling of Tony’s home. “What the hell is this?”

Tony blinked and stared at his home. Everything was upside down. His ceiling fan was on the floor. The counters were on the ceiling. Tony stared intensely at his rearranged home. Tony thought back. He didn’t drink at all. Maybe it was PTSD or hallucinations? He smacked his cheek. Nope, everything was still upside down.

Rhodey opened the door to stare at the forest outside, and just like he expected, everything was right side up outside. So, it was just Tony’s furniture was upside down.

“Hey, guys!” Peter walked into the kitchen, upside down, as in his feet were on the ceiling, and opened one of the cabinets. Everything inside wasn’t falling down, like gravity dictated. Tony also noted that Peter’s hair, for some reason, didn’t obey gravity either.

Peter grabbed a package of oreos and started snacking on them. “Why are you guys upside down?”

“We are not upside down,” Rhodey said. “You are!”

Tony smiled. “Kid, put everything back. You can’t web everything-”

“I’m not using my powers! I swear.”

The retired superhero laughed. “Kid, come on. You’re Spider-Man. I know-”

“Peter, what’s the hold-up?” Riri walked into the room, on the ceiling, as in her feet were on the ceiling and her hair was floating, so it wasn’t obeying gravity. She took an oreo from the package and stared at her mentors. “Why are you upside down?”

“We are not upside down,” Rhodey repeated. He opened the door and pointed outside. “The trees are on our side!”

Tony furrowed his eyebrow. “Wasn’t Nebula in charge? Where is she?” Tony walked on where the floor should be. He stepped over light fixtures and the ceiling fan and found Nebula with Morgan and Harley. The two kids had vests on and gloves that resembled the Iron Legion’s gauntlets. Near the tv, away from the laser fight, were Dum-E and U. Harley popped up from behind the couch. His toy repulsor lit up, and Morgan evaded it easily.

“Take the shot!” Nebula commanded, pointing at Harley’s obviously exposed chest.

Morgan raised her arm and tilted her head as she tried to aim properly. Her repulsor lit up. Harley’s vest beeped, and the young man faked his death, making weird noises and falling to the ground. Well, the ceiling?

Dum-E and U clicked and cheered for Morgan. When Harley didn’t get up, Dum-E reached over to help him up.

Harley giggled and jumped up from his spot.

Nebula smiled and nodded. “You did well, child.” She crouched down and held up her hand.

Morgan giggled and high-fived Nebula. “Thank you!” she said.

“Good game,” Nebula said.

The boy nodded. “Yeah.” He held out his hand for his tiny opponent. “Good game, Morgan.”

The little girl stomped to him and shook his hand with confidence. “Good game, Harley!”

Tony couldn’t help but smile. His insane family. That turned his life upside constantly. Who, apparently, also turned his house upside down. He smiled widely. “Nebula?”

Morgan beamed and waved. “Hi, Daddy!”

“Hi, sweetheart. Nebula, what’s going on?” Tony stretched his neck and looked around.

His daughter giggled and hid behind Harley’s leg. He, however, just tilted his head.“Uh, why are you upside down?”

Morgan started giggling. “Daddy looks tiny.”

“He was always tiny,” Nebula said.

“I am not tiny,” Tony said. He stared at all the kids. By Morgan’s giggles, something is being hidden. Harley was smart, but he couldn’t do all of this by himself. Peter might be able to, but his webshooters could only do so much, and it wouldn’t explain how everyone was walking on the ceiling and how everyone’ hair was defying gravity.

Tony groaned. “Riri?”

“Yes?” The girl smirked.

“Turn it off.”

“Turn what off?” she asked innocently. “We’re just wondering how you and Rhodes are upside down. Did you get into an interdimensional fight or something?”

Morgan giggled.

Tony stared at Riri, his newest protege and apparently the new prankster. He shook his head. “If it were any other kid, I take away all your toys.”

“But you can’t!” She laughed. “I’d just build more.” Riri pulled out a remote control and pressed a button. Everyone and everything floated back to its original place. Still, all members of the Stark family remained on the ceiling.

Morgan ran to her older sister. “I don’t know how it works,” she mumbled.

Riri smiled. “Don’t worry, I can teach you.” She took the little girl in her arms. “Lift up your wrist.”

Everyone did as she said.

“Now, turn the dial on your new watch.”

When the dials turned, everyone gently floated down back to the ground. Riri nodded to the two robots. “Can someone turn Dum-E’s and U’s dials please?”

“On it!” Harley turned a new dial on Dum-e, while Nebula turned U’s dial back. Both of them chirped in thanks.

Morgan gasped and marveled at everything as she went back to obeying gravity. She laughed and said, “Thank you, Riri!”

“You’re welcome, Morgan.” Riri let her down, and the child immediately ran to Tony. “Dad, did you see? I was on the ceiling!”

“Oh yeah?” Tony crouched down and asked, “And how did that happen?”

“Well,” she drawled. Morgan turned around and pointed at Harley. “Harley wanted to prank you and Uncle Brhodey, then, Peter” -she pointed Peter and laughed- “he wanted to web everything to the ceiling. But only he can walk on the ceiling, so Auntie Nebula said it was a bad idea, so Riri” -she pointed at her older sister, who was smirking ever so proudly- “invented something, and poof! Magic!” Morgan giggled. “And that’s how we ended up on the ceiling, like those creepy, crawling bugs.” Morgan wiggled her fingers near her face to resemble bugs.

“Hey!” Peter yelped.

“Not you, Peter,” Morgan whined. “Like the centipedes and flies and those brown bugs. Bleh!”

Tony laughed and scooped his daughter into his arms. “Just for the record, I hate every single one of you. Except Morgan. She gets a free pass because she admitted to her crime.”

Nebula tilted her head.

Dum-E and U clicked, reminding Nebula about Tony’s sense of humor.

Nebula tilted her head. “I hardly call threatening to donate you a sense of humor.”

“Hey, I’ve grown since then!” Tony claimed.

Rhodes inhaled through his teeth. “I mean, have you?”

“Watch it, Rhodey. You’re on thin ice.”

Rhodey shook his head. “See, this is why I don’t have kids.” He looked at all of Tony’s children. “Or at least, this many kids.”

Dum-E and U whirred.

Nebula pointed at her brothers. “You forgot them.”

“Right,” Rhodey said. “Kids and robots.”

The two chirped.

“They said thank you,” Nebula translated.

Tony laughed. “Look, they’re not all my children.”

In response, Peter, Riri, and Harley looked at each with knowing smirks and smiles. They all crossed their arms and set their plan that they just discussed through eye contact in motion. Harley went first. “You literally packed me lunch for my first training session at the Avengers Compound.”

“And you gave me glasses with a new AI of my own for my Europe trip,” Peter said.

Riri hummed. “And wasn’t it you who attended the PTA meeting on my parents’ behalf when they couldn’t make it?”

Harley threw his head back with a laugh. “And remember the time he actually called us his kids?”

“That was a great day,” Peter agreed.

“Ok, ok, I get it!” Tony shook his head. “You know, the gray hairs?” He pointed at everyone. “All because of you.”

U whirred again in annoyance, and Dum-E nodded in agreement.

Tony pointed at them. “I didn’t have gray hairs then because I dyed them when I only had you two. Not an excuse.”

“Ok,” Rhodey leaned back and forth. “Obviously, you all have a lot to talk about, so I’m gonna go.”

“Bye, Uncle Brhodey!” Morgan said.

He laughed and kissed her head. “Bye, little Stark.” He waved at everyone else. “Goodbye, other Starks!”

“Bye, Rhodey!”

“See ya, Rhodes!”

“They’re not my kids!” Tony went up the stairs with Morgan in tow, mumbling to himself. “Why does everyone think they’re my kids?”

The six left stared at each other. A beat passed, before Tony shouted, “So are we still doing bedtime stories or-”

"Get out of my way!” Riri screamed, shoving everyone off the stairs.

Peter shot a web and swung up the stairs so he was in front. “You did it last time! I’m gonna tell the story of how Spider-Man got the shield!”

Harley flicked both of his wrists, and his hand and foot thrusters encased his hands and feet. He flew past his brother and sister. “Sucks to be you!”

Nebula just stared at her robot siblings. She rolled her eyes and pressed a button by the stairs. The steps transformed into a ramp that both the robots could climb. “Come on.”

The two followed Nebula up. The guardian found the rest of her Earth family arguing over which story to tell Morgan, while Tony was too busy smiling and watching the four kids argue.

Nebula walked to Morgan’s side and glared at everyone else.

“Fine!” Riri gave up.

Harley shook his head. “This always happens.”

“You know, one day, you’ll have to take our side,” Peter pointed out.

Nebula shrugged. “What story do you want, Morgan?”

Morgan held up a very colorful book. “This one!” Nebula held it and looked up at Peter, Harley, and Riri. She looked through her memories and nodded. “It’s Harley’s turn.” She handed the book to him.

“Thank you, Nebula.” So, Harley cleared his throat and began to read to his mentor, his mentor’s biological daughter, the other kids his mentor took under his wing, an alien aunt, and two robots.

When Pepper arrived home from her business trip, she wasn’t surprised to find Dum-E, U, and Nebula watching over the sleeping humans. She smiled and whispered, “I got this.” She went to her husband and gently woke him up.

Tony groaned and stared at his wife. “Oh, hello there.” He blinked once before checking on everyone in the room. He went through his mental checklist. Nebula, Dum-E, U, Morgan, Peter, Riri, Harley, and Pepper. Rhodey left early. The retired man slumped back in his chair with a sigh.

Pepper smiled. “It’s late.”

“Mhm,” he agreed. He saluted to Nebula. “Thanks.”

Nebula nodded. She shook both Pepper’s and Tony’s hands before leading Dum-E and U down the stairs.

The mother smiled and woke up Harley first. “Hey, Harley.”

He smiled sleepily and rubbed his eyes. “Hi, Pepper.” He stretched and tapped Riri.

The girl woke up with a start and shook her head. “Oh, it’s late.” She stretched and shook Peter’s shoulder.

Peter groaned and closed his eyes tightly. So, Harley kicked his leg.

“Harley,” he whined. Peter smacked his lips together. When his eyes caught Pepper, he gasped. “Oh, Sorry, Mrs. Stark. It got late.”

She smiled. “It’s alright. You guys should at least sleep in your beds in you’re gonna stay.”

Harley shook his head. “Nah, gotta get home today.”

“Same here,” Riri said, stretching her arms over her hand and cracking her knuckles. “Plus, I gotta beat Parker here at the science fair tomorrow.”

Peter blinked. “Oh, yeah.” He groaned. “I should go home, too.”

Tony laughed a little. “Make me proud, you two.”

“Please, get a drink if you want,” the CEO offered. “Don’t want anyone falling asleep in their suit.”

They nodded. Before leaving the room, they said good night to Pepper, Tony, and Morgan, and Pepper kissed each one of them on the head before they left. Finally, it was just the three of them. Morgan, Pepper, and Tony.

Pepper smiled at her husband. “The house is quiet,” she stated.

“That’s rare.” Tony poured himself a glass of water and sighed. “I actually don't mind the noise. Not too much, anyway.”

Pepper smiled and kissed his cheek. “Neither do I.”

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wesker20 · 6 years ago

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Fallen Hero 1.5 Episode 6 Parasites

Hideout - Morning

The blood on your puppet terrifies you right now for some reason. It looks so… unnatural, so out of place. You trained her body to make sure she could defend herself, but the fight at the parking lot was something else. It wasn’t just self-defense, you enjoyed it. You are no stranger to enjoying a fight, but it was always born out of pride, a sense of knowing you won against odds that were too much for you. Here it felt the odds were not stacked against you but against them.

You shake your head away and head towards the one sided mirror on your office. You watch your crew training, Pelayo relaying orders and the rest executing them to the best of their abilities. They take a familiar position to you. Zaza remains behind, taking advantage of his incredible eye, Pelayo stays in front of him acting as a wall between him and anybody else who wants to get to Zaza, and Nehal and Ward take point, acting as the Vanguard of the group.

It takes you back watching them like this, work in unison.

You and Kappa always stepped into the fray, Zeta stood away and acted as the sniper, and Alpha was always an immoveable wall. With the Rangers your position changed to back up and tactician, but you were fine with that too. Anathema would be the one to stay behind and cover you while Ortega and Steel took point.

But it doesn’t matter, none of that mattered. In the end everything you touched, you destroyed. No team was ever safe with you. Sooner or later they were destined to be destroyed. But if that’s the case then what does that say about you? About your crew? Will they also fall eventually? All because of you? Just like the others? They say that doing the same thing over and over expecting a different result is the definition of insanity. Are you insane then? For always falling back on having a team knowing what has happened in the past?

Would it be safer to fire them and go solo? Maybe… they would be safer. None of them deserve to be brought down with you. But they are yours. You keep what is yours, no matter what.

You put on your mask and step outside. You make sure to take each step slowly, letting the hard sound of your boots echo throughout the hideout. They all know what that means and everyone lines up as your silhouette forms in front of them, hands locked behind your back, cape covering all of your body, and cloak hiding the reflecting mask. You are sure in their position you would be disturbed, if not terrified. But then again, they have seen you and spoken with you enough times that you doubt they feel that anymore.

You let the silence hang in the air as you walk in front of them eyeing them up carefully. You notice a bit of shake from Rosie although her face remains emotionless. Good, she has learned to hide her fear better. Pelayo and Ward both stand upright and frozen like statues. They have military discipline and obviously see you as their commanding officer. Zaza is more relaxed albeit still somewhat scared, still not enough to not screw up from time to time but you have faith you can get there. Nehal is different; her posture is focused and stiff, but not as disciplined as Pelayo and Ward. Her face lights up and she looks at you with the same eyes of someone else. Herald. She admires and looks up to you and wants nothing else than to prove herself. That much you can discern from just looking at her, but even if that wasn’t enough her thoughts are just as ridiculously open as Herald’s, meaning that you receive them just as clearly.

You finally step back and stare at all of them. “We all know what’s going on. The so called Army has been causing trouble and smearing my name. We tried once and we failed. That one was on me and I apologize.” You see Zaza brows shoot up in surprise, Nehal stiffens as if she wanted to say something but chose not to, and Rosie’s stance relaxes. Pelayo and Ward remain motionless but their thoughts shot up enough for you to notice that they feel the same way as the rest. “I failed to predict that something like this might happen. And let me be clear,” you take a step forward and finish with “I won’t let that happen again.”

“We will do our best boss,” Pelayo responds. You nod to him and continue.

“Jane has brought me some interesting information,” more like Hollow Ground gave you some but you don’t mention that to them. You pull out an envelope and hand it over to Pelayo so he passes it to the rest. “That’s a list of individuals who may have something to do with what is going on. We are going to get each and every single one of them.”

Nehal steps up and says “We won’t let you down boss. These guys are fucked.”

You make a sudden turn with your head to her, which causes her to step back. “Don’t get cocky Nehal. I appreciate your confidence, but don’t let it control you.” She nods. “Not all of them will resist, but some will. You can hurt them. But remember; I want them alive.” You proceed to dismiss them but you call Nehal to speak to her in private; you have another assignment for her since she wants to prove herself so badly. Time to give her that chance.

Gym – Morning

Truth is, however you don’t really care. You doubt any of them know more than what Hollow Ground already gave you. That said the possibility is still there. And of course there are the other two reasons. You want to see how the voice will react. They must be watching your every move or at least paying enough attention to know what move you’ll do next so you decided to put them between the sword and a hard place. If they react then you know the suspects know more. Not only that but you will also push them to panic, and panicked people make mistakes. If they don’t do anything that means the suspects either know nothing or very little, the voice is so arrogant they don’t care, or they are not paying enough attention to you. But what you really want is for people to start talking, spreading the rumor that you are investigating, and not happy with the Army. Effectively disconnecting you from them and taking a swing at the voice. Either way, it’s a win-win for you. It’s so surprising how the simplest of plans can net you the best results no matter the outcomes.

You can’t help but smirk at the thought as Emily takes another swing at you and you evade it with ease. That’s right, while your crew takes care of the kidnappings, you decided to shoot down another bird by meeting with Emily as Jane so as to keep an eye on her and confirm your suspicions. Either she is a huge fan or she’s really bad at hiding herself. You guide the conversation masterfully back at Red Doll and Emily does not shut up about it. You have known heroes who had major egos before, Thunder, Silver Cat, Mayor Ultimate, even Ortega when you first met her, you thought she had a huge ego before you knew her more. And, of course, most recently good old Lady Argent.

But you don’t sense the same from Emily. It’s more like pride. Still, it means she may not take failure well, and of course you killed her boyfriend. She throws another punch, you catch it and turn it into an armbar which she has no choice of escaping, at least not unless she was Red Doll and used her powers.

“Seriously? This is what, your fifth win?” she says as you let her go.

“You need to think a bit more. You are just throwing punches with no objective.”

“I do have an objective: Beat you,” she says oh so innocently. You can’t help but chuckle.

“Besides that. How are you planning to beat me?” you ask her and she stays there, only managing an “Uuuuuuuhhhhhh.”

You shake your head and sigh.

“Try attacking from the left. She has a hard time blocking that side,” you hear a very familiar voice say and you turn to see her. Of course, it’s Ortega. Anything else world? Because I don’t think you have done enough.

“You know I was trying to teach her. She doesn’t learn her lesson if you just tell her.”

“I think we have established I’m the better fighter here,” she shoots back in her teasing tone.

“Being a great fighter a great teacher does not make.”

“True, but it’s a start.”

You laugh as you decide to just let her have this one. You turn towards Emily only to find a girl who looks more like a stick than a person. Kudos to her, she could probably win that one challenge people were so obsessed about years ago. Mannequin challenge you think it was called.

“eh, well, Julia this is Emily, Emily Julia.” Ortega extends her hand and it takes Emily a whole second before she responds in kind. And even then it’s a very stiff shake.

“I’m guessing you know who I am already then,” Ortega says trying to ease the tension. You watch Emily gulp. Gosh she is bad at this.

“I, uh, I do,” she finally manages.

Ortega brings out that classic smile that melts any tension on the air. You simply feel the need to facepalm but you settle for rolling your eyes. “I’ll go change and then I can help you. Both of you.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” you say as she leaves. You wonder if she did not plan to come here until the last moment.

“You are friends with her?” you hear Emily’s voice, more quizzical than anything else.

“Yeah we met,” you stop for a second to make sure you don’t slip up and say years instead of months. “about four, almost five months ago,” you finish. You turn to her to find a worried look on her face.

“Doesn’t she work with that other woman, what’s her name?”

You feel the need to almost slap her in the face. And then facepalm yourself so hard you’ll leave a permanent mark. Seriously, could she be any more obvious? How has she survived this long? “Lady Argent?” you say just to play along but deep down you just want to knock some sense into her.

“That one.”

“Yes.” She doesn’t respond but her face changes from worried to neutral. You decide to try a more direct approach, if she’s going to be this obvious you might as well poke harder. “Are you ok?

“What? Yes. I am,” she says obviously lying.

“Are you sure? Because that look on your face says otherwise.”

“Nah, I’m just tired,” she responds. Gosh, it’s like she read the cliché book for excuses.

“Has anyone ever told you you are a terrible liar?” you say.

She turns to you with a sad smile. “Yeah, once. My boyfriend. He said I had to get better at it.”

“Cool. Maybe you can present us some day,” you say, deciding to grab the bull by the horns.

“He… He’s gone now.”

You want to be angry with her right now. Maybe you are being too harsh on her, she is a novice after all and you have been running and hiding most of your free life but still. If she had caught the attention of any other top villain, she would be dead. Which begs the question why do you even care? You’ve only known her in her civilian life for a couple of weeks and in her hero life, if she is, she wants to cut your head off. So then why do you just want to hug her and say you are sorry?

“I’m sorry.”

She turns to you, her eyes watery. “It’s ok. I’m fine.”

You decide not to call out her obvious lie and simply put a hand on her shoulder. Even though it was you who did it, you still know what it feels like to have someone taken from you.

Gym – Afternoon

You finish for the day. Ortega left after a couple of hours, having to head for Rangers HQ, and left you to continue practicing with Emily, who did learned a couple of things. Better watch out when she and Mastermind next meet. Just as you step out, however, you see a crowd heading for you. A crowd with a very distinct black attire and mark: The Army of Mastermind. Shit.

“Oh you gotta be shitting me,” you say as you watch them approach.

“Crap,” Emily says right after you. They don’t head straight for you but block yours and everyone else’s path. One of them steps up, clearly the leader of this particular group.

“People listen up. From here on out this part of town is ours. If no one wants to get their asses kicked out you gotta pay. If you pay, we’ll make sure no one bothers you ever again”

Oh hell no. Racketeering? Really? You hear a “psst” and turn to see Emily.

“Jane there’s an alley beside the gym. C’mon.” You follow her without question. As much as you want to beat these idiots up even after what you did with the other gang members, there’s no way you can handle a crowd as big as this. But just as you step in the alley you hear Emily say “keep running.” You don’t obey and instead turn to see that she is no longer there. Well, suspicion confirmed. At least ninety five percent.

You decide to sneak up and see what happens and just as you suspected, Red Doll arrives just in time. The Army wastes no time to try and swarm her, but she easily slips out of the group holding her. Crap about Polymorphs, they are slippery as hell. She begins knocking them out, one, two, three at a time. She uses her limbs as projectiles, and any punch that lands she simply lets it go through her. You even manage to recognize some of the moves as moves you have taught her yourself. Well, if you wanted to make her more dangerous, congratulations. You shake your head out, wondering where did that thought came from. Not that it matters, it’s correct. Why the hell did you just gave her more tools to beat you is beyond your comprehension.

It really does not last more than a couple of minutes. None of these idiots were boosted or mods, and they were clearly low level goons. You see Red Doll stand there with a smile, a very proud smile which you have already seen before. “Hey,” you yell.

“Jane? I- I mean miss, this place is dangerous, get to safety.”

You raise an eyebrow letting her know that she is still a terrible liar and putting on a mask does not make her any better. She catches the message pretty quickly. “I’m that bad huh?” she says with a look of embarrassment. You simply nod while smiling from ear to ear. At least she’s not stupid.

Later – diner

“Can you keep the secret?” Emily asks sheepishly.

“Better than you, that’s for sure,” you say as you take a sip of soda.

“You already suspected?”

“Well, let’s be real. The way you speak of… Red Doll either makes you look like an obsessed fangirl or that you are her. One of those was doomed to be the answer.”

She moans like a puppy and hides her face on her hands. “Relax. You’ll be fine with me. My lips are sealed.”

She finally raises her face, relieve painted all over. “Thanks. Not many know.” Not many, huh? That means there are others. Maybe family members, and probably her boyfriend too.

“So what now?” you ask her half curious.

“Now I’ll go take a shower and try to think how to hide my secret better.”

“Yes please. You’re painful to see when lying,” you say sarcastically.

“You know how?” she asks with genuine curiosity. Oh crap, you know where this is going.

“I think we established I may or may not be a very good teacher.”

“But you are the only one who can. All the other people who know-“ you stop her right before she spills something else.

“First of all, think before you speak. You talk too fast for your own good. Second, I’ll think about it.” She smiles at your response.

“Thanks Jane.”

Apartment – Dusk

The pieces are beginning to fall into place. You are now certain who Red Doll is. Now, all you need to do is wait for a call. From whom, remains to be seen. The phone rings; both of them. One untraceable number for your crew and your personal one. The untraceable one displays Pelayo, your private only says private. You smile and answer Pelayo first.

“Yes.”

“We got the first one boss.”

“Good. Wait for me, I’ll be there,” you hang and take the other one. “Good to hear from you again. I was starting to miss you.”

“Ah, I feel so bad for making you wait. But really I’m sure it’s nothing. After all, you have been busy.”

“That I have.”

“I take it you know those idiots are not going to say much that you do not already know, right?” You simply chuckle at them.

“You can’t blame me for trying.”

“Maybe. But still, I think I should teach you a lesson.” So panicking it is. You can imagine Nehal celebrating now.

“Oh, you mean the bomb you set on my hideout to kill my crew?”

“What?”

“Yeah, about that. See, I thought that someone who wants to hurt me might want to go after those closest to me. But killing a Ranger is too much, you’ll get chased down no matter what. Killing Mortum would also get you too much attention, more than what you already have. And of course, Red Doll is too new. No way you think she’s anything important to me. So my crew was the easiest target. So I told my youngest underling to check out for a bomb.”

“Ha, you send a brat to disarm a bomb. I thought you were smarter than that,” they say with mockery.

“Let me finish. I gave her a device I made. Now, I’m no tech genius, but if there is one positive I can take out of my time as a Re-gene, is that I learned a lot about weapons, including bombs. And here’s the kicker, we may all be different, but Re-genes rarely, ever, create their own signature for bombs. Even cuckoos. I admit, that last one was huge gamble but you don’t succeed if you don’t take a couple of risks. So basically what I’m saying is that I made a devise that directly disarmed a bomb made by a Re-gene.”

“How are you so certain it did?”

“Because if I was in your place, I would have detonated it along with the suspect.” At that moment your phone rings again. “Give me a second,” you say and take it. “Yes?”

“Boss, Nehal wants to talk to you.”

“Pass her through,” you only smile and make sure to put the earphone on the speaker so the caller listens to Nehal’s report. She found it, just where you thought it would be and she disarmed without even trying. You congratulate her and hang. “Anything to say?” and nothing comes. “I’ll give you a hint, I know you are from the farm. More than that, I now know you are not just any person from the farm, you are Re-gene, just like me. Actually let me correct that, you are nothing like me.”

You still hear nothing except a distorted growl that must be their breathing. “Just so you know,” you begin as you stand up, your tone turning dark, almost resembling that of Mastermind when you have the mask on. “If you had succeeded and killed my crew, there is no place on this planet I wouldn’t go to hunt you down and tear you to pieces. Not even the Catastrofiend could come up with what I would do to you.”

“Heh, if only you were that overprotective with your old team, maybe they would still be… alive? I mean I’m sure Alpha is but I doubt she even remembers her own name let alone you.”

“We grow. Or rather learn.”

“If so you would have stopped after the facility fell. But instead you went on to join the Rangers, only to also lead them to their destruction during Heartbreak.” You twitch at the mention of that and your cold anger grows. “Face it, you are destined to always take everyone down with you. Because you don’t really care about others, you only care about yourself, about how you feel. You can’t tolerate being alone in your misery, so you bring others down with you. Just like you did with the Rangers, just like you did with your squad, you will do to your crew. You will take them down and leave them as shells of who they were. In the end you are just a parasite that feeds and feeds until its food is gone and moves on to the next. Maybe that should be your new villain name, Jeremy.” they finish, saying your name with a mixture of disgust and mockery, as if you don’t deserve that name and hang.

Anger, self hatred, doubt. All swim around your mind but you crush them all down. Now’s not the time to dwell on how you feel but rather in what you have won. Their little outburst just gave you all the information you needed. You know who they are, now you just need to learn where they are, how they are using the Army and take them down. But how? How can you take down one of your own? One of your teammates?

#fallen hero: rebirth #fallen hero: retribution #fanfiction #mc #oc #puppet #spoilers #writer's block overcomed #mastermind being well a mastermind #don't screw with the crew. you'll get destroyed if you do

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theonewiththefanfics · 7 years ago

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Avenger of the Galaxy (part 1)

Summary: Reader is a part of Guardians of the Galaxy and after the fight with Thanos decides to stay on Earth, or is more so persuaded by Quill. At first, everyone is welcoming, especially Bucky, but her own demons start to reappear and interfere with the possibility of having a happy life. (In this version Loki was not on Thanos’ side and Pietro is alive- I will make my own universe, cause God damn it, I need to have my babies alright and safe!!!)

Part 2

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Warnings: only swearing in this one

Word count: 2220

Genre: right now just fluff, will contain angst as we move along

Bucky Barnes has been an Avenger for the better part of the year now. After the whole Thanos showdown, Tony had reluctantly allowed him to join. They still weren’t on the best of terms and the super soldier highly doubted they ever would be, but at least they acted civil towards each other. Most times. It had been another gruelling mission, that had dragged on longer than anticipated. Instead of the two weeks, Fury had promised it had stretched out into a full month and Bucky could not wait to fall into his bed and sleep the next day away. That is until he returned to the compound and heard unfamiliar voices arguing in the common area. “Fucking hell, Quill, can you just stay still, for fuck's sake! God!” the female voice exclaimed, “I now know why Gamora hates to patch you up, you’re such a baby!” “Well if you had gotten shot on your side, you would know how painful this is,” the man who called himself Starlord replied in an almost whiny tone. He’d met the Guardians of the Galaxy when he had gotten woken up from cryosleep. He actually had quite enjoyed their weird quirks, yet was slightly afraid of the talking racoon called Rocket. The Guardian had kept insisting he needed Bucky’s arm whenever he got the chance to, so he stayed away from the furry thing. He’d met Mantis, Drax and Gamora too as well as finding teenage Groot to be quite the character, yet the voice that was now apparently struggling with what she defined Quill to be a “man-child” he had never heard before.

“Frostie!” Starlord exclaimed when Bucky came in the view. He hated the nickname, like every other bestowed upon him, but the protests seemed to keep falling on deaf ears, so he just rolled with it. “Hello, Peter. How’s the galaxy?” Bucky went straight to the coffee pot. The exhaustion was about to hit him like a wave and no one else was in the compound to help out their surprise visitors, so he had to take up the role Tony usually sported. “You know, just like Earth- always in the need of savi- fuck, Y/N that hurts!” “Stop moving then!” “You’re pulling a needle through my skin, how do you suppose I don’t do that?” “How else am I supposed to keep your organs from falling out, huh?” “Just, please be a bit more gentle?” “I am gentle,” the girl grumbled in response. Her Y/H/C hair fell over her face like a curtain and Bucky couldn’t help but feel intrigued. “You’re just as gentle as lion feasting on its prey.” She let out a snort that in Bucky’s mind was the most adorable thing ever. Her Y/E/C eyes flitted up and looked at Bucky. “You look like absolute shit.” Bucky almost choked on the bitter drink in his hand. He was so accustomed to almost everyone acting around him like he could break any moment, except for Sam and Tony, but even those had toned it down, thanks to Steve, that her filterless approach was like a refreshing shower. “Yeah, I umm,” he cleared his throat, “I just got back from a mission.” “Ahhh,” she drawled out and looked back at the injured man she pulled the last stitch through, “that’s why you look like the only thing on your mind is sleeping through the week.” Quill pulled back on his grey shirt, a red bloodstain covering almost all of the left side. “Come on! It was my favourite!” he whined looking at the ruined piece of clothing, even stomping his leg on the ground like a toddler would do. The girl, Y/N, pulled off her medical gloves and tossed them onto the glass table. “Yeah, well next time maybe you’ll think before you jump in front of a shot rather than evading it.” “If I hadn’t done that Drax would’ve been hit.” “If you have enough time to take the shot for him, he has enough time to duck,” she placed a strand of hair behind her ears. “Drax’s words, not mine.” “You know what, all of you are so ungrateful. I cannot believe I call you my teammates let alone family.” “Yeah, well you should already be used to it,” she smirked at the man. For a second he stood there, towering over the girl before smirking and pulling her into a hug, groaning in pain at the same time. “Man, I love you,” he pressed a kiss on the top of her head. Y/N patted him gently on the back as not to cause more pain to the man. As irritating as he was, she saw Quill as an older brother- annoying, of course, but wouldn’t even wait for a second to step in if he saw one of his family members in danger. Bucky cast his eyes down. The moment seemed very intimate and he felt like his presence completely interrupted it with its intrusiveness. The girl’s burgundy tactical suit hugged her every curve, the combat boots, which sported quite the heel, elevated her stance, yet Quill was still a good head taller than. “She’d be the perfect height to hug,” Bucky thought to himself. How her head would fit perfectly underneath his chin, how he'd be able to wrap his arms around the girl and feel that she was safe in his arms. “What am I thinking!” he scolded himself. He didn’t even know the girl and now a sudden urge to protect this stranger arose. To hold her and have her in his arms, to keep her from harm. The super soldier cleared his throat, more so to get his head straight, but with that, he drew the pair's attention back to him, Y/N’s face covered in a smile, Y/E/C eyes shining with love for her teammate. “Hey, yeah, so,” Quill started to ramble as if he finally remembering the reason they were here, “here’s the thing. Y/N sorta kinda needs to stay here for a bit. Is Stark around?” “Uhh, no,” Bucky shook his head taking a sip of the bitter liquid that had now cooled down a bit. “I’m the only one here. The rest are on a mission, but they should be back in a week or so. Tops,” he added after seeing Peter’s face scrunch up in concern. The man put his palm on the nape of his neck, dragging it down in a nervous motion. “The thing is we need Y/N to lay low for a while. I was hoping to talk to Stark or Rogers or something…” Starlord’s cheeks had reddened a bit at the mentions of the Captain’s name. He was a huge fan, almost to the point of fainting when he’d met the guy. “Is everything alright?” it was Bucky’s turn to be concerned. He’d had enough with one intergalactic fight, he didn’t need another one anytime soon in his near future. “Well, we wouldn’t be asking if it was,” this time the Y/H/C haired beauty chimed in having propped herself on the armrest of the sofa. “I kinda got into trouble with this group of people way back in the day and… basically their last words to me were- if we see you anywhere near our system we’ll pull your intestines out of your ass, wrap it around your neck, strangle you and use them as a rope to pull you up as a flag.” The super soldier gulped a bit. “Colourful.” “Tell me about it,” Y/N snorted, “anyways, our team has been hired to carry out a mission and well, to preserve the relative safety and not put anyone else in more danger, we were just kinda hoping that I could stay here for a bit. And when Hasselhoff-wannabe here,” she poked Quill in the side, “is done, they’ll come back and pick me up.” It wasn’t Bucky’s place to make these kinds of decisions. He was basically almost a nobody compared to Stark who designed, paid and housed everything and everyone or Steve who had become the unofficial-official leader of the Avengers. Hell, even Loki, the man who had tried to take over Earth, was higher above the list than the Winter Soldier. But as he looked at the girl he couldn’t help this weird feeling that started to form in the pit of his stomach. It wasn’t unpleasant, more so intoxicating. She didn’t see a broken man struggling with night terrors or guilt the size of Mount Everest, pity in her eyes, she didn’t care for the things he’d done while being a brainwashed puppet of Hydra. She looked at him like a person. So in Bucky’s mind, there was only one answer. “Of course you can stay. I don’t think anyone would mind.” “Sweet!” Y/N jumped up, excitement shining in her Y/E/C eyes and Bucky couldn’t help himself as he mirrored the smile stretched across her lips. The girl turned to Quill to hug him before a gasp fell out of her mouth and a palm slapped right over. “Sweet-cheeks, what is it?” Peter’s eyes scanned her body in concern. Had she gotten hit and no one noticed? What was wrong? Where was she hurt? “Oh my God,” she exhaled actual tears in her eyes, “I’ll be able to sleep on an actual bed. Like a real bed with a mattress and shit!” “Fuck, Y/N/N! You scared the shit out of me! I thought something was wrong!” Peter pulled her tight against his chest, pressing his face into her Y/H/C hair. The girl chuckled in response, once again proving to Bucky that that indeed was the best sound in the world. “And- wait a second! Hey! The ship is not that bad!” Y/N’s bright laughter echoed throughout the room as she untangled herself from Quill and went to the kitchenette. Bucky watched her heels click against the tile floors as she stood on her tippy toes to grab a mug from the upper cupboards, her hands barely reaching the top shelf, and pour herself the same dark coffee, no sugar, no nothing. “A fucking Jackson Pollock painting,” Y/N smirked up at Quill and drank, as she contently exhaled, “the juice of life” and commented how it was “just as black as her soul”. Peter shrugged on his jacket, a visible hole at his left side where the blast must have caught him. “So you two gonna be okay here?” Y/N waved a hand, gulping down the last bits of the coffee, Bucky’s eyes wide with how easy she downed the scalding drink. “We’ll be fine, stop worrying about it, mom.” “Y/N, sweet-cheeks, you know that if anything happens to you Gamora will rip my head off. And let’s not even talk about what Drax or Rocket will do.” “Then tell them,” she cupped the unshaven cheeks of Starlord, “that if anything does happen to me I expect to be treated like a fucking princess when I get back.” “You already are.” “Two hours of sleep at a time ain’t the standards a princess accepts,” she put her hands on her hips, “I expect at least three.” Peter huffed out a laugh. “Deal.” Y/N went to hug him, neither caring exactly about the stitches on Quill’s side. It was hard for the two to spend much time apart. The man had become a brother to Y/N, one she dearly needed in her life. He was who she confided in about everything and anything, given the fact that she as well came from Earth and had been taken by Yondu. “I’ll be fine,” the girl whispered in his ear. “I know you will,” Peter pulled back, one palm gently cupping her face. “It’s them,” his head motioned at Bucky, “I worry about.” Y/N smiled. “Go,” she shoved the man away, still wary of the injured side, “and don’t do anything reckless.” “It’s me we’re talking about. Reckless is my middle name.” Quill’s words echoed as he walked away before disappearing from sight. A small shudder went down Y/N’s spine followed by a sigh. It has been almost eight years since she had stepped foot on Earth. Bad memories from her past, the demons she’d buried deep inside her mind, locked behind bars and chains- all of it started to rattle with the knowledge that at least for a week she’d be staying on a planet that had caused only sorrow and pain. And one of the contributors was standing right behind her, Y/E/C eyes turning to face the ex-assassin's ice-blue ones. She plastered a fake smile on her face, practised to perfection that not even the best of the best could spot it wasn’t real. “This will be fun.”

Tags: @who-cares-rn

A/N: so a new series in a new fandom. let me know what you think :)

P.S. if you wanna be tagged message me :)

P.S.S. please don’t repost without credit :)

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the-tormented-writer · 7 years ago

Text

Stories For Monday pt. 2/2

Catch up here: http://the-tormented-writer.tumblr.com/post/163922695701/stories-for-monday-pt-12

“About time you came back from fishing! I thought something had happened to- Steve?” Sam questioned looking back and forth between the two of you.

You clear your throat, “Oh yeah! Steve came down and decided he wanted to fish after all.” You quickly scan the room evading Sam’s disapproving expression.

“Really?” Natasha eyed Steve then over to you.

“Maybe that’s what the doctor ordered?” Scott spoke eagerly grabbing the cooler from your clammy hands, smiling and making his way towards your stove.

Sams eyes squinted at you then shifted to Steve. ‘What?’ You silently mouthed. You laid the rest of your belongings down against a closet door and went to Sam.

“What is that all about?” He took the fishing poles and yanked the blanket from your shoulders, grumbling looking over in Steves direction once more.

“What’s what? You can’t honestly think… Sammy, as much as that is every Steve Rogers fan dream- no. Hate to disappoint ya but it was just us talking and fishing.”

“Mm hmm. I’m on to you.” He pointed, resting his hands on his hips.

“You know me Sam, that tortured soul thing doesn’t work on me.” You turn to follow the others gathering in the kitchen.

“Yeah she seems more of the wounded animal type, if I had to guess.”

“Scott she literally was talking to me-”

“I know I know! If you want me to butt out just say so.” He puts up his hands in surrender.

——-

“Hey soldier…” Natasha smiled, leaning on the doorway into Steve’s room. “So what was going on with you and Y/n?”

Steve sat up from his bed, rubbing his eyes, “Nat, I really-”

“No, I want to know. I mean, last time I heard you were sucking face with Agent-”

“Don’t go there. Y/n- She- it was nice. For a moment,” he looked up at Natasha. “All of this disappeared. I didn’t have to be on high alert, making sure others were safe and assessing possible threats. At that moment, time stood still. My thoughts were silent, I was calm and enjoying -”

“ ‘Enjoying’? Wow. Steve Rogers you might have a crush.”

“Yes to enjoying but no to the crush. Sorry Nat, you don’t win this round.”

Natasha entered his room, sitting at the foot of his bed, “Steve, you don’t have to be tough all the time, you know. You can let me in. You can let all of us in and help you carry what must feel like a burden to you. You’ve got me, Wanda, Sam… and I can’t believe I’m saying this- Scott. You’re not alone.” Steve glanced over her as she looked away from him, leaving her spot and walking back towards his doorway. “I’ve always told you that you were blind to a woman’s affections towards you. Y/n… she’s something else. I can’t put my finger on it but you’re different around her. We’ve all noticed it and these few weeks we’ve been here, she’s changed the total direction of our team.”

“Really now?”

“You might not want to admit it to yourself, you’re different yet the same all at once. As easily as I can put it- you’re Steve Rogers around her, not this Nomad-”

“Alright. I get it.”

“So what are you gonna do about it?”

“Nat. If things were different.”

“But they’re not. Look at it this way, maybe we don’t go back to what life was before. Barton already proved that any of us can have a successful relationship, start a family-”

“Why would I want to do anything with anybody while I’m a fugitive? Sometimes I ask myself why did I make us leave Wakanda…”

“Because, you simply didn’t like it there. You don’t want others 'protecting you’ or 'hiding out’. This laying low thing was never for you. You want to be out where the action is. How do you put it- 'fighting the good fight’?. ”

“I’m done being okay with everything. I need to be able to scream! And- and hit things and flip tables" Steve sits up, nibbling the side of his cheek. Feeling like this was different like the world was on his shoulders and he was close to dropping it. He lets out a long exhale resting his arms on his knees. “But it’s what was working, I mean for one, Buckys safe.”

“True. Though on the other hand, and you may not admit it but you want to reconnect with Stark and the others as well. I know you, you always have that ancient flip phone on you incase he calls. You know I’ll back you no matter what you choose. Just think first.”

——–

“Hey- do you care for some company?”

You look up by the doorway to the study seeing Steve with his arm propped up on the door frame. “Uh yeah I’m due for a break anyway. I’ve been staring at this screen for far too long.” You lean back in your chair slowly spinning it to face him.

“So what are you writing about?”

“Oh well. That’s a loaded question.” You laugh suddenly feeling shy. You could not believe that Steve Rogers was interested in what you were writing. You had read how he enjoyed drawing but this felt different. “Let’s see. I’m writing about a girl,”

“Of course.”

“and a guy,”

“Naturally.” Steve licked his lips as his sparkling eyes met yours waiting patiently for you to continue.

“And they’ve got nothing in common. They meet unexpectedly actually.”

“Alright I’m listening.”

“Anyway umm… they become close as the story goes on and one thing leads to another and ..”

“And- ”

“it gets complicated, like most relationships do.” You unconsciously drum your fingers against the oak wood table. “I dunno you’ll have to read it when I’m done..”

“Complicated huh.”

“Yes.”

“Well answer me this, when it’s gets difficult for the two main characters what do they do, just give up?” He questions wondering if this was a writing from your own life experiences.

“Oh no. But like I said you’ll have to read it. I’ve just been having a touch of writers block and I’ve been wanting to atleast devote a few hours to it each day while I’m here.”

“Yeah..” Steve turns away from you as it hits him once more that you will be leaving him, them and the feeling of comfort you provided.

“Remember I don’t live here. I’ll have to go back in two weeks. Then I’ll be out of your hair.” You sigh smiling up at him. Steve looks down and his clasped hands. Your concern shifts observing his body language. “Are you ok? You look a little down. ” “No I - was just thinking how will we survive without your cooking.” You laugh as he joins in. He could not possibly burden you with his feelings for you and how he truly felt about you returning home.

“I’m sure you’ll all figure something out.” You say with no real conviction in your voice. The laughter between you dies down. You feel yourself being bought back to reality and the seriousness of his situation. “You know Steve, I know we aren’t close like you and the others..and I’m not really someone who… I just want you to know you can’t run forever, you know this right? At some point you’re going to have to pick yourself up and fight for what you believe in. Wether you end up fighting with or without your team.” You wait patiently for his response as he mulls over the shift in the conversation moving from weirdly awkward to serious.

“That’s what-”

“You’ve tried to do, I know. I also believe that Steve Rogers never backs away from a fight. So while you’re regrouping for the time being, keep that fire burning in your heart for what you stand for. What you’ve always stood for.” You smile and he nods, licking his lips. You let out a soft breath unsure what to say next, afraid the air between you would become stale. Then the most unexpected thing happened, Steve leans in towards you. You can see him drawing closer moving painstaking slow and cautious. You thought about what to do with your hands as Steve Rogers put his lips on yours. You were surprised beyond belief! He was gentle and smooth. His fingers sweep against your cheek, resting a hand on your thigh. Softly you rest your hand upon his shoulder. As you bliss out his motions become needy, he raises both hands to the sides of your face. Letting out a moan he pulls himself back, while you feel a rush of cold air on your moistened lips. When you finally opened your eyes he was gone.

——

“Steve?”

“Wanda.” Steve dries his hair with a towel, letting it rest on his shoulders. He thought taking time in the shower, away from you, would calm him. It just made it worse. His cheeks showed a faint blush embarrassed at the thought that Wanda had heard him in the shower relieving his tension.

“She likes you, you know. It’s like a warm tingling feeling she has spreading throughout her mind when she sees you.”

He took a deep breath, realizing what she was in his room for. Dropping his head he knew he would be unable to avoid the subject at hand. “Wanda I told Sam I- I can’t help it, she’s so-”

“Entrancing? Because that’s how you look. Like you’re under a spell.” She smiled, quickly bringing up her fingers to cover it.

“Trust me Wanda you don’t want to be in my head right now.” Steve chuckles, sorting through a pile for laundry.

“I know the others must see it too.”

“Wanda.”

“It began the night beside the lake you know, that’s when I first sensed it. I just thought you’d like to know.”

He rubbed his hair again, tossing the damp material to the side of his bed. “Thank you. I appreciate you looking out. I believe I’ve got a firm grasp on this, whatever it is and…” He trailed off, looking to the doorway yet Wanda was gone.

————-

You awake to a buzzing sound on your nightstand. Quietly you slide the drawer, containing your phone, open. It’s screen was blinding. You start to have butterflies rising up in your stomach touching the answer button. “Y/l/n, please tell me you’re done with that sacred book!”

“Charlie! How are you?”

“Are you sleeping on the job?”

“Hey it’s five in the morning, and you’re calling me for what exactly?!”

“Do you happen to still be locked up in that Amityville horror?”

“Calm your tits! Yes I’m still here.”

“I can’t calm what I don’t have! Remember You’re suppose to be returning in a few days, refreshed and raring to go!”

“Yeah I know, it’s just-”

“Just what? Arent you ready to rejoin civilization, sweetness?”

“Of course. Yeah.”

“Well I’m glad to hear it!”

“Yeah.” You sigh, “me too.” You begin fiddling with a corner of the bed sheet. You could picture him now, his tall lanky body bent over his desk looking over papers and scribbles of notes long since forgotten.

“Don’t sound so down and out, I’ll be coming out to rescue you Saturday-”

“What? uh…no!” You about drop your phone at his words, “That won’t be necessary!” You fight with your bed covers attempting to dislodge yourself from the mass. “I’ll just trek into town and go from there! No worries!”

“Nonsense! Come on! It’ll be like the good ol days- think of it, I’ll pick you up in my jet….”

“No! Really, I don’t need or want that attention. I like how quiet it is out here. Honestly I have gotten to be one with nature.”

“…Wine and dine you all the way back to New York. Huh? Maybe even throw in-”

“CHARLIE! Listen, ” you took a calming breath fighting the image of his stormy blue eyes and jet black hair. “I’m good. It’s been … interesting here.”

“Really, out in the wilderness?”

You could note the smirk in his voice, you knew him so well. “Yes. And I don’t want your obnoxious mouth and your aura out here.”

Aww I’m hurt sugar..you’ve never had a problem with my mouth before.“

You roll your eyes at the comment, walking around your room as softly as possible.

“Fine! have it your way.” He clears his throat placing a hand in his dress slacks pocket.

“Just let me meet you in town. Ok?” You plead, “you can’t see me but I’m giving you the puppy dog face.”

“Geez so defensive…So on to more important matters, you miss me?” Charlie rubbed his chin clicking his tongue.

“Somewhat..” you look at yourself in a mirror making a gagging face.

“That sounds like a 'yes’ and I’ll take it!”

“Sounds like a plan!” you exhale, tossing the phone into your covers.

“Ok I’ll see you then!” Charlie speaks with a laugh quieting it instantly when the figure who had been patiently waiting in the shadows stood, thrusting a briefcase full of money onto the dim lit desk.

——–

“So I wanted to let you all know, as much of a pleasure it’s been cooking, cleaning and being a mom for you all, sadly all good things must come to an end.”

“What are you talking about? Don’t you live out here?” Scott questions looking to Sam. Sam nods running two fingers up and down his wine glass, “That’s right. I knew you were acting weird. This means you must have finished your book?” leaning on his elbows his eyes shift to you .

“Ha..yeah… actually, I’m on the last chapter BUT my time here is coming to a close.”

“What’s going on?” Steve asks looking from one end of the table to the other.

“God sis. Don’t say it’s Charlie.”

“Who’s Charlie?” Nat asks with a devilish wink.

Scott snaps his fingers, “Oh! Charlie from Charlie’s angels?! I love that movie!”

“My EDITOR, Charlie, Scott! What in the world-”

“ 'The porn on legs’ as she dubbed him the first time she saw him.” Sam huffs rolling his eyes.

“Oh is that so, Y/n?” Natasha lifts and eyebrow at you, you make eye contact with Steve with your mouth slightly agape, then turn towards the others unsure how to continue. “He’s coming to pick me up Saturday. Don’t worry, I’m meeting him in town. So you’ll still continue to have all the privacy you all need. AND your secret is safe with me.”

Wanda glanced over to Steve feeling waves of jealousy emitting from him. 'Are you going to tell her how you feel?’ she projects into his head while the others continue to tease you.

'She’s better off.’ He replies taking a drink, looking back at Wanda.

'Is she really or is that what you’re telling yourself?’

He swirls his drink around, placing it on the table. Suddenly he had lost his appetite.

“So we need to have a going away party right?” Scott changes the topic clapping his hands together.

“No it’s ok. It’s not every day a girl gets up close and personal with super heroes. No matter what Steve says, you all are great and I for one am thankful for everything you’ve done.” You raise your glass to toast the others over the pizzas spread over the dinning table.

———–

“Hey Natasha, is everything alright?” You stay seated at the edge of your bed looking over a few rough drafts.

“Yes, everything’s fine. Um, do you have a second?” She bites her lip rubbing her hands on her hips.

“Of course!” You say enthusiastically stacking the papers haphazardly on your nightstand.

“I wanted to talk to you about Steve.” Natasha takes a seat besides you while you watch her. “Oh, I’ll try my best. What’s going on? Is it about staying here? I mean you guys can stay here as long as needed. I only try to come out here twice a year to make sure everything’s working and hasn’t been damaged. But-”

“Relax it’s not that. You and Sam have been more than accommodating. It’s…He likes you and I think you like him too.”

“Nat-”

“You don’t have to say anything. I know. That and Wanda told me.”

You roll your eyes and Natasha giggles to herself how much you look like Sam. “I’d appreciate you not saying anything to Steve. I mean you’re right I do. But neither of us are in a good spot right now. I mean you guys are - and I am-” your arms flail a bit trying to come up with the words to describe what you were feeling.

“I understand.”

Your heart felt like it was breaking. “Thanks. So yeah, I gotta finish packing.” Looking away from her you get up and make your way towards the closet. It’s not everyday one would hear that someone such as Steve Rogers had taken an interest in little ol you.

“Of course.”

“Goodnight.”

Shortly after Natasha leaves you hear another knock at your door. You get up, placing an unlit cigarette behind your ear. Cracking the door you expect to see Natasha. Steve looks up at you with sad eyes, “Can I come in?” His words are soft and pulling at your heart. He scans the hall, “I need to talk to you.” He shoves his hands into his pockets feeling like a school boy. Unsure of what is happening your mouth drops at the surprise. “Yeah. Sure!” You slowly motion him to enter. You move to the side letting him pass cringing that your space was in such disarray.

“Are you ok?”

“Yeah it’s just something’s I gotta get off my chest.” He states before shutting the door behind him.

——–

“Hey,” Sam waves leaving his other hand on the doorknob. “Steve, have you seen or heard from Y/n? She gets up at the same time every day.”

“Uh no actually.” He nervously clears his throat, pulling up his collar just abit hiding a hickey you left, “Maybe she’s down at the lake?”

“Hey her car is gone. Where would she go without any of us noticing?” Nat questions she begins looking around the kitchen.

“Calm down, I mean I agree but maybe there was a few things she needed to get before leaving.” Steve sighs continuing with his reading.

Scott walks towards the screen door headed to the dumpsters carrying an empty yellow box, “Yeah like restocking the eggos.” The others glare at him.

Sam shook his head feeling uneasiness wash over him. “No she would have told somebody. She knows how I get…”

“Hey, why is y/ns stuff out there by the lake?” Wanda squints taking in Steve’s nervousness. Her eyes glow using her telepathy, 'You were with her, weren’t you?’

'Wanda not now-’

'Did she say anything?’

'She was asleep when I left her room this morning.’ He thought while sipping his coffee.

“There’s more than one set of foot prints out here. Did I miss something?” Scott asks letting the screen door slam behind him.

Steve made his way to Wanda , “Can you sense her?”

“I can’t, she might be knocked out”

Steve is furious now. He knew the minute he let his guard down.. “How was someone up here and we miss it?”

“Let’s not jump to conclusions. Y/n She’s a smart girl. She can handle herself.”

The rest of the group looked at one another. “Sam, when was Charlie suppose to pick her up?”

“That idiot? Tomorrow.”

“How well do you know him?”

“Well he’s an ex of hers and I pretty much hate him. But I’ll tell you one thing, he can’t fight himself out of a paper bag.”

“What If we’ve been found, Steve?” Natasha rests a hand on his shoulder.

“Ok. Let me think.” It had happened all over again, letting his emotions control his choices. Now a woman that he cared about had been possibly taken and it was all his fault.

“There’s only so many places in this town to go.” Sam whispered.

Wanda stands struggling to receive a clear image of you, “Steve-”

Sam begins plucking weapons hidden around the home, “Charlie has a private jet, so if he did take her, which I doubt-”

“Steve-"Wanda tries again getting cut off once more.

"He could have been a lure?” Wanda questions clearly unsure where to begin the search for you.

Scott sips some coffee moving towards the others, “But no one knows we are here”

Wanda yells, “Steve!” Clearly getting the attention of the others. She was afraid of loosing the familiar feeling of you attempting to reach out to her.

“WHAT IS IT?!” He yelled, resting his hands on the counter. Many emotions were rushing through him, he was close to boiling over. Just when he had let go of all his inhibitions with you last night, this proved he was never meant to be happy.

Wanda smiles faintly relieved that you are alive, “I think I’ve found her.”

——–

Your vision is spotty and everything hurts. You weakly move a hand to touch your throbbing head.

“Please y/n forgive me. You’ve got to forgive me.”

You try to turn your head in the direction of the voice. Pain shoots up your spine causing you to grit your teeth.

“Some men saying they were from some government FBI or homeland security- I don’t recall. They found you, they were coming …they said you wouldn’t be hurt as long as you and I …cooperate. They know about the lake house. That damn freaky ass house of yours. What have you got up there that they want? The money the promised me, babe. They only have given me half so far then the rest after this. I will be rich. We would be rich. I could hire those who would protect us, we’d never go through this again. There’s something in that house they want….”

You frown trying to shake yourself out of your daze attempting to remember the last thing you did. Steve. You were with Steve. You had been talking and he kissed you, passionately and hungrily. You blink as flashes play behind your eyes. His hands were roaming everywhere, your clothes thrown haphazardly around the room, his scent filling your senses.

“Earth to Y/n?! Can you get us out of here? Didn’t your brother teach you anything from his military days?”

Your eyes land on Charlie, wide eyed and covered in who knew. “Will I get used to being held captive? I never understood injured birds so well before”, he mumbled. His bottom lip was busted and a purple bruise was forming on his left eye. Tracks of dirt starting at his eyes trailing to his chin let you know at one point he had been crying.

"Where am I?” You manage to ask, groaning from being jostled about the space.

“We are in the back of a truck. I’m not sure how long. My two hundred dollar watch got damaged in the scuffle.”

You set your head against the side of the trailer, feeling it sway from side to side, listening to Charlie ramble on. You began worrying about Sam, Steve and the others, not knowing what would happen next. If this was about them, if they would get out and away before they were caught. You hear Charlie mention something about being bait before you pass out again.

——–

“Y/n- oh god.”

“What happened?”

“Sam- what’s going on?”

“ I don’t know. There’s so much blood?”

“Where is it coming from, Steve?”

“I don’t know? Sam?”

“Is it hers?”

“I DONT KNOW!”

“PULL YOURSELF TOGETHER!”

“I think her legs have been broken.”

“Romanoff she’s not breathing!”

“What?”

“What did he say?!”

“Move!”

“Y/n! Breathe for me baby come on!”

“Fuck, no. She’s not dying like this. Sam-”

“No! You’re going to save her. She’s the only family I’ve got left so the hell with your rules and shit. You’re going to save her!”

Steve switched places with Sam while he did chest compressions on you. Your hands were beginning to feel clammy like that night on the lake.

“Don’t quit on me”, Steve whispers breathing into you. You cheeks fill and deflate with each of his breaths. He gets more irate with every unsuccessful attempt to revive you. “Fuck. I can’t just get a fucking break. Just one break!” That second he lands a punch to your chest you begin coughing. Your hands fly up to the first thing you can hold on to grounding yourself. Steve chuckles breathing heavily. He whispers into your hair, surrounding you with his body holding you tightly, “I can’t loose you, Y/n I just found you.”

You look up at him with a smile. Tears roll off his cheeks as he grins at you, “How could you think I would ever be ready to let you go?”

——–

“How long can we linger around here before people get suspicious?”

“I just want to make sure she’ll be alright. This is my fault -”

“If it’s anyone’s it’s mine. I didn’t know she was at the lake-”

“Stop blaming yourselves, Wanda’s trying to wake her.”

“Is that safe?”

“I just want to say goodbye.”

“We all do, but her body needs to heal. She’s been through a lot.”

“I know I can’t just sit here, Nat! I’ve got to do something.”

“You’ve got to calm down Steve!”

“We can’t tell her where we’ll go, that might put her in-”

“Look she’s my sister ok! You all mean a lot to me but she’s. She’s been with me through everything and I can’t loose her- not like this.”

“Sam- I. Y/n and I, we-”

“Man I don’t want to know about it-”

“You’ve gotta believe me I never intended-”

“I know. Hey You’re a good guy Steve and y/n’s a big girl, I trust you.” Steve shakes his head in understanding, while Wanda and Natasha can’t help but smile. “So what now?”

“You guys, she’s awake.”

——–

“Can we start from the beginning again? I really don’t remember much.”

“Where should we start?”

“Somewhere because I’ve got two broken legs, a black eye and a broken rib… or four.”

“I guess I’ll go first. Somewhere along the line someone tracked down your editor- Charlie. And got a bug in his ear by building up his ego with promises of money.”

“Honestly that’s not even surprising.”

“So with someone knowing where you were they put the two together tracking you then the rest of us.”

“That was quite a shot in the dark they took thinking that Sam would contact me.”

“Desperate times..”

“Who was it and what do they want?” I look around at the group as they avoid my sight.

“They wanted us, remember- fugitives?”

“Riiight.”

Steve breaks in the conversation grabbing your hand, “It no longer matters. What matters now is you get some rest.”

“But I’m worried about you guys. Where are you gonna go now since the lake house has been compromised? What are you gonna do in general! Who’s going to cook for you?!” Scott and Sam laugh. You try to sit up when Natasha and Sam push you back down onto the hospital bed.

“We can talk later, right now we need you to get better alright?”

You nodded thinking about all the questions you had that were going unanswered. Scott hugged you then Natasha. You could not rid yourself of the feeling that this was goodbye. Wanda nodded secretly telling you she’ll be keeping her thoughts open for you. Sam hugged you tightly rubbing your arms. “Sis I love you.” He kisses your cheek, “when I can-”

“When it’s safe, drop me a line this time.” You wink with your good eye.

“Will do.” He licked his lips smiling, dismissing himself with the others.

Steve bit his lip, hearing Wanda in his thoughts, ’ I’m releasing her mind, she needs to rest- without you.’ He shuffled his feet making his way to the side of your bed and picking at the fabric of your blankets.

“I feel like this is you- all of you, are saying goodbye?” You look at him, your eyesight begins to become hazy. “You don’t have to be strong around me, not anymore.” You choke out, wiping your tears before they leave your eyes.

He sighs wearing a steel expression “Y/n you don’t know. You almost. Sam almost lost you.”

You yawn feeling unusually tired. Your mind drifted to the whispers you had heard when they had found you. Steves voice drifting through your head. You look up at him, “Did you almost lose me, too?” He nods, leaning over you he kisses the top of your head, inhaling the smell of your hair. “I’ve lost so many, I couldn’t take- I’m in over my head with you and I really like you and I’m sorry about your ribs.”

“It’s ok. If it was nessary to keep me going, I trust your judgement .” You blink, feeling groggy. “My bones will heal. Everything will be fine.” You run your hands against his check. He holds it kissing it gingerly. As your eyes become heavier, you feel someone tuck the covers around your body. Steve places your hand beside you, when you turn to look at him one last time. “Steve don’t leave please?”

He closes his eyes briefly before facing you. This was already hard enough for him. Hadn’t he put you through enough? You almost died for him.

“Stay.. just for a while.”

He looks around the room before pulling up a chair.

“So you won’t need me anymore?”

“Oh y/n, I’ll always need you.” He feels the familiar chest tighten, forcing himself to stay strong for you, he exhales long and loud. “Go ahead and rest. I’ll stay as long as I can.” He holds your hand in his. The warmth traveled up your arm as the lull of the machines in your room sent you to sleep.

——–

You push open the front door of the Lake house, using your new cane to assist yourself through the doorway of the lake house. You were hoping to be welcomed with open arms at your arrival but you knew better. The house looked empty, everything back in its proper place. Your expression fell slowly making your way throughout the vacant rooms one by one. You finally come up on the study, noticing a nicely folded paper resting on your desk. When you move to sit, a hiss escapes your mouth feeling pain from your healing ribs. You prop your cane against the desk, gliding the pads of your fingers across the front of it. A smile tugs at the corner of your mouth while eagerly you begin tearing at the envelope. You unfold the letter, laying down in front of you.

Y/n,

Words cannot express how much your kindness meant to us. You have kept us together not only as a team but as a family. Our bond is now stronger than before and with our new found strength we must go on and face the trials that lay before us now. To put your mind at ease, we have a place to go. It may not be filled with the caring and compassionate atmosphere that you provided but it will do and we will be safe.

You gave up so much- including your life, to protect our own. There is nothing that I can do to repay you for that undeserving sacrifice. You’ve taught me so much and I wish we had more time. I wanted you to get to know the real me. But I could never live with myself if I put your life in jeopardy again.

I hope you don’t mind but I read your novel, Stories For Monday. It’s pretty good, and I really liked the ending. I hope you’ll sign a copy of it for me- in person, one day.

Till we meet again-

Steve.

———–

T'Challa walks out to greet Steve and the others, keeping along the landing strip.

“Your timing is impeccable, I trust you accomplished what you set out to do in the states?”

“Not really but that’s a conversation for another time. I received your message, Where is he?”

“Barnes is fine. He’s been awake for a day or two and has been well fitted with an vibranium replacement. Clint Barton has come in seeking refuge as well.”

“Really?”

“Apparently you all weren’t the only ones targeted. We have a lot to discuss you and I. There has been a new threat detected…”

#avengers #marvel fanfiction #avengers fanfiction #steve rogers x reader #reader insert #steve rogers #natasha romanoff #poc reader insert #sam wilson #scott lang #wanda maximoff

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burnedlegate · 7 years ago

Text

Chapter I - Catching Fire

um, ok, so here it goes? the first chapter of my Finn/Daniel fanfic. i want to eventually post this on AO3, so idk if I’ll add another chapters here, but let’s say this is.... a trial?? first of all, i have no idea how tags on AO3 work and tbh they scare me, also, as i said in the previous post, i’m not a native english speaker and i often mix up the tenses and stuff (also the quotation marks are wrong, i mean, not english but czech, but i didn’t think i was gonna publish this when i was writing it so... yeah. and i’m not editing that shit now),

so.. that’s a thing. i’ll be happy for any kind of feedback, especially if it’d about some typos or stuff like that! now i’ll keep trying to gather courage to put this on AO3 :’D

People say that everyone has a home somewhere, waiting for them. The courier‘s oldest brother used to say that, but the way he spoke about home – for him, it was a concept to be abandoned, useless, futile. Veronica used to say that when she talked about the Brotherhood of Steel and her ideas about its inovations, and she said it even after what she was evicted from the order and refused to step inside the bunker. Ulysses, whose home was irretrievably destroyed, said this to her, and he stayed true to his words, watching over the land and its horrors to this very moment.

Her father used to say that, and when he said that, he spoke about their mountain cabin in the Mahagony Mountains in Utah.

That cabin was irretrievably lost now, incinerated into ash and burned carbon. One could say home isn’t a place, but a person; but her father was gone as well, crucified by the Caesar’s Legion.

The courier, Finley Jäger, didn’t have a home. She thought California could become her home, but the forced patriotism couldn’t replace the feeling of safety and certainty. She thought Nevada could become her new home, but that very thought forced her to flee the country to… this place.

The courier didn’t have a home. She used to have a mountain cabin, and she used to have a father. Now she stood in the Zion Canyon, and she realized that she’ll never be closer to that memory than now.

This feeling, this moment – you’ll never have it again.

„Hey, Finley,“ Jed’s voice interrupted her. When she turned to face him, the caravaneer working for the Happy Trails Company spoke again: „I was sayin‘ that in case the New Canaanites won‘t be able to get us back home, you’ll step in with your Pip-Boy and your maps. Since Ricky run away, you’re our only option. We can count on you, right?“

Finley, known as Finn among friends, raised her thumb up.

„I’ll take that as a yes,“ Jed squinted, and the courier responded: „Yeah. Sorry, was savoring the moment here.“

„It sure is beautiful here,“ Stella said. With that, Finn finally stepped away from the ledge.

Jed sighed loudly. „Enough lollygagging! Get moving and keep an eye out for tribals!“

„Sir, yes, sir,“ Finn answered avidly and the caravan started moving again with two mercenaries in front, two behind them, Jed in the middle and her and Stella right behind him. Stella adjusted the rifle on her back and interjected: „Sorry to bother you with reality, ol' Jed. Who cares if we can't get back out the way we come? That's not a problem.“

„It’s simply the way it is,“ Jed answered, visibly trying not to sigh again, and slightly sped up to avoid more remarks of his companion. Stella obviously didn’t miss it as she muttered under her breath: „Heard you the fifteenth time, Stella. What's it matter if we're trapped here? Everything will be just fine.“

„What’s this about?“ Finn asked, surprised by Stella’s anxiety.

„Well, if you were listening, my dear courier, you’d have heard me expressing my deep concerns over us getting home, because we sure as hell ain’t going back the same way,“ Stella said, and the courier just shook her head: „Hey, we’re cool, I got my maps and everything!“

„Just like you got your big backpack and everything?“

The courier puckered her lips: „You just won’t let that go, will you.“

„Well, considering the fact that you stated that you’ve been here, I found it really curious that you thought you could bring a whole damn armoire with you,“ Stella answered.

Before the courier could answer anything, Jed suddenly stopped dead on his tracks, looking alerted – both of the women almost bumped into him.

„What’s up, Jed?“ Stella asked with an obvious hint of the everpresent anger in her voice; but the caravaneer put finger to his lips, shushing her instantly. Then he said very, very quietly: „Hold on, now... could swear I heard something up ahead.“

In that very moment, the mercenary in front of them fell to the ground. Dead.

„Fuck,“ Finn breathed out as the brain of father of tree and rancher from California of the name Timothy Wells splattered on the ground. „Fuck,“ she breathed out again when she was crawling for cover behind a boulder with Stella following her.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

„Goddammit, ambush! Cover, people! Watch yourselves!“ Jed screamed and did the same, hiding behind a boulder close to her. Finn pulled out her weathered 10mm pistol, which she truly didn’t expect to pull out so soon, and aimed at one of the ambushers placed on the cliff above them. But the paint on his face, his braids, his weapon-

„Holy hell, it's the White Legs! What are they doing this far south?“ Jed screamed to confirm her worries, and Finn breathed in, and out, because-

It seemed – it seemed her worst worries came true. She came all this way for nothing. She came to herself just in the moment to crouch to the ground to evade a flying tomahawk, which, luckily, pushed her back to reality. There’ll be time for mourning later.

If there’ll be a later.

„Goddammit, never should joined this assbackwards caravan,“ Stella cursed under her breath and fired a few shots from her laser rifle. Finn fired a few shots at the White Legs on their terrain level, because she had a scant view on the White Legs above them in her current position. She looked around and found out that most of the mercenaries, which the company hired, were dead.

„We’re sitting ducks here!“ Stella screamed. „We need to get out of here, fast!“

„There’s no way out of here!“ Jed screamed back. Finn looked down from the cliff to the river which flew through the canyon. It’d be… quite a fall. But they couldn’t push through the tribals. And they couldn’t go back. They were, very effectively, trapped – and they were losing.

„Enough of this!“ Stella suddenly screamed and stood up. „Here I come! I was a sheriff once, goddamn it!“

With that, she charged at the White Legs.

„Stella!... Oh no! Don't you die on me, woman, you hear?“

Finn shot at another tribal, killing her. At least she thought she did. It seemed like whenever they killed one, another one popped up from nowhere. They had to get out of here.

„Jed! We need to go!“

„There’s nowhere to go!“

„We can just jump down-“

„Are you out of your mind?!“

„We can’t fight through them!“

Suddenly, a blast threw both of them a few feets back. The only thing Finn heard for a while was an annoying humming noise, and then it was humming coming from Jed’s pistol who shot down a tribal woman coming at them with a shishkebab. A shishkebab. Where the hell did they get these weapons?

Something pulled her up to her feet – Jed – and gave her an intense look, and screamed, but Finn had problems comprehending what he was trying to say.

„On your feet! Keep fighting! Come on, I got ya…“

He tried to move them both behind another cover. But it was too late. It was always too late.

***

The young missionary, Daniel Young looked down from a cliff to look at the Narrows and it inhabitants, currently waking up to a new day. The Sorrows got up and went to sleep with the Sun; the Sun’s been up for two good hours and the tribals were cooking fish on the fire, getting ready for scouting the area, waiting for the morning service.

He was walking around the camp for two good hours. When he woke up after five in the morning, he managed to calm himself down by this perambulation (perambulations) around the Narrows, but it never really helped. And it surely didn’t help him rest.

It’s been a long time since Daniel had a good night sleep. Sleep used to be an escape for him, from this world to the world of what could have been; now it’s become an obligatory route to the world of what happened, what he saw, what he had to see, and his mind was forcing him to go through these moments again and again and again. Sleep was, of course, necessary for survival, but Daniel Young wasn’t its greatest fan, so to say.

Now, he’d usually go over his supplies, but honestly, there wasn’t much to go over. It’s been a long time since he’d seen some proper supplies, and the situation wasn’t getting any better. He didn’t have the time to go look for them himself, and the Sorrows couldn’t go either, considering most of the tourist spots taboo. And then there was always Joshua, telling him that they don’t really need the supplies. That there’s a simpler solution.

Much simpler solution.

Daniel sighed and adjusted his hat. Watching over the Sorrows always woke some inner peace in him; Zion had the same effect, being as beautiful as it was. Daniel wished he could stay, but…

He turned to look at the Zion Canyon, spread in front of him like a picture.

But what he actually saw made him stare in shock.

Even though he was stuck in his inner monologue, which usually lasted for a long time (because he usually thought about what could go wrong and there was always a lot of things which could go wrong), his eyes managed to ignore his inner dilema and registered an atypical appearance disturbing the awakening landscape – he saw two persons.

People.

The first one he recognized. The tribal markings of the Dead Horses, the cap – he remembered this particular scout, and if he remembered correctly, his name was Follows-Chalk. The other figure, however, was a whole different story.

First of all, it wasn’t a tribal. It was, very clearly, an outsider – and Daniel knew outsiders. He knew mercenaries, NCR prospectors, raiders. Which one of these was the woman accompanying the scout, that he did not know, but he immediately got that suspicion that she’s up to no good. Maybe he was wrong, of course, and it was wrong to judge someone by the first impression.

But the thing was, first impressions mattered now – and they especially mattered when he had a tribe to protect.

He woke up from his reverie (though he was not sure this was the right term to call it) and headed down from the cliff. He passed some of the Sorrows‘ scouts who gave him confused, questioning looks, meaning that they became aware of the people approaching as well. He simply nodded at them, suggesting that he has the situation under control.

Which he did not.

Once he got in their line of sight again, the scout and the woman saw him too. He finally got a good look on the woman – ashen hair, freckles spread on her face, a hunting rifle on her back. The scout looked mildly distressed, but he seemed to be keen on following her. That, however, didn’t have to mean she posed no danger to him. To the Sorrows.

Daniel thought, and immediately regretted the sentiment – how much better would it be if she run into Joshua instead of him. It surely was strange that her first stop was here, and Daniel just felt his heartbeat getting faster, possesed by fear.

Finally they stood face to face, the woman measuring him with her gaze. He realized that his hand was on his holster, but it was too late to appear charitable now.

„Uh... I apologize if this comes across as a less-than-cordial welcome,“ he said. „But how did you get in here? You from the Mojave?“

The woman opened her mouth, and closed it. It appeared that she was considering what to answer, or more likely, in which way to answer. However, before she actually said anything, Follows-Chalk replied for her: „She came with a caravan, but the White Legs ambushed them! She is the only survivor.“

The woman didn’t say anything, only gave the scout a quick look. A quick one, as if she wanted to keep her eyes on him. Then she finally spoke.

„A Happy Trails Caravan, yeah. If the name rings any bells. Not like it has to anymore. Everyone’s. You know,“ she paused, and added in much quieter voice: „Dead.“

The way she said it made Daniel freeze in the spot for a second. He wasn’t sure if to let go of his holster or just hold it tighter. And yet, another emotion, besides whatever this was, was sympathy.

He decided to put his hand away from his gun.

„That’s,“ he sighed. „I'm so sorry. That's terrible. The tribals, White Legs – we’ve been having a lot of problems with them recently.“

The woman didn’t say anything, so he continued: „In fact, that's why I'm here. I'm Daniel, a New Canaanite missionary to this tribe, the Sorrows. I think it important that you speak to my colleague, Joshua Graham-“

„That’s what I said, but she refused,“ the scout said urgently. The woman scowled and said: „That’s not how I’d put it, I simply decided to seek alternatives.“

Daniel paused. „I – okay. I’d simply feel more comfortable if-“

„No offense, but you’re sending me to Joshua fucking Graham. We came here looking for New Canaanites, not the infamous ex-Legate!“

Daniel blinked few times, slowly. „Joshua Graham is a New Canaanite, just like me. I assure you, he is on our side here.“

„Our side?“ the woman parroted. „You including me in that sentiment as well now, huh?“

„Sentiment?“

„As far as I’m concerned, I’m not on your side. I was supposed to get our caravan to New Canaan, not into this bullshit, so I’d truly prefer getting out of here, you know? Now.“

Daniel nodded, resisting the urge to sigh. He felt like he had enough of her sass for the day and yet, they just began talking. „Listen, I understand that this isn’t what you signed up for. But we didn't ask you to come to Zion. As far as I'm concerned, you're an uninvited guest. In better times, I'd drop everything to help you out, but… these are not those times. And I’d truly prefer if you talked to Joshua about what’s happening here.“

The woman gave him a sharp look. Daniel didn’t know how to properly describe it, but there was hesitation in her eyes, hesitation which very closely reminded Daniel of fear.

Of course.

He could’ve realized it sooner – the courier was hesitating simply because she was afraid of Joshua. Maybe not, of course, but – that look spoke for everything. He’d recognize ít everywhere, specifically because it was residing on faces of all New Canaan inhabitants when he brought Joshua back home, broken, burnt, left to die.

It was only natural, of course. But in this situation, most unwelcome. Daniel gave the woman a long look, thinking about his possibilites.

„You’re injured,“ he suddenly remarked, noticing the wound on her shoulder. It was a simple cut, probably done by White Legs‘ blade, and the woman not being aware of it only proved its triviality; she quickly touched the wound, obviously confused.

„Oh. It’s nothing, really,“ she said.

„Want me to take a look? I’m a doctor. Of sorts.“

„Well…“

„I could fill you in in the meantime. I still think you should at least go to introduce yourself to Joshua, but I can see that you need to understand the situation first.“

The woman finally understood his intention. She gave him a surprised look; honestly, Daniel was surprised himself, but he didn’t want to throw this woman in what she considered a lion’s den. Maybe if he explains her the basics of what’s going on, she won’t be so hesitant about talking to Joshua – and cooperating with Joshua in general.

„Alright, yeah,“ she said. „I think that’d be wise.“

Now it was time for Follows-Chalk to look uneasy. „What should I do then? Should I head back to Joshua and tell him the news?“

„Yes, if you could be so kind,“ Daniel nodded. „Tell him that – um…“

He still didn’t know her name. That was embarrassing.

„A courier,“ the woman chipped in. „Finley.“

„Right, just tell him that Finley will arrive soon and that there’s much for them to discuss, but she’s injured as of now.“

„Can you make it back safe?“ the courier asked.

„I’m going to be okay,“ Follows-Chalk said and smiled. „See you later then, yes? I can not wait!“

The courier nodded, flashing him a smile as well, even though hers was much more hesitant.

With that, Follows-Chalk departed, while the courier and him, with eyes of all the Sorrows on them, entered the Narrows.

#daniel fnv #joshua graham #honest hearts #my writings #i don't know how to tag this shit #oh well here it goes.... i'm gonna hide in a hole #i'm not used to publishing my writings lel

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illbefinealonereads · 5 years ago

Photo

Today we’re talking about A Love Hate Thing by Whitney D. Grandison. Scroll down for more information about the book, my spoiler-free review and an excerpt.

A Love Hate Thing Whitney D. Grandison On Sale Date: January 7, 2020 Inkyard Press 9781335016041, 133501604X Hardcover $18.99 USD, $23.99 CAD Young Adult Fiction / Romance / Contemporary Ages 13 And Up 464 pages

Summary:

A fantastic enemies to lovers romance about an It girl whose world is upended when a boy from the past moves into her house after tragedy strikes. For fans of Ibi Zoboi's Pride, Mary H. K. Choi and Samira Ahmed. Wattpad author Whitney D. Grandison's traditional publishing debut.

When they're stuck under one roof, the house may not be big enough for their hate…or their love

When Tyson Trice finds himself tossed into the affluent coastal community of Pacific Hills, he’s ready for the questions, the stares, and the total feeling of not belonging in the posh suburb. Not that he cares. After recovering from being shot and surviving the mean streets of Lindenwood, he doesn’t care about anyone or anything. He doesn’t even care how the rest of his life will play out.

In Pacific Hills, image is everything. Something that, as the resident golden girl, Nandy Smith knows all too well. She’s spent most of her life building the pristine image that it takes to fit in. After learning that her parents are taking in a former childhood friend, Nandy fears her summer plans, as well as her reputation, will go up in flames. It’s the start of summer vacation and the last thing Nandy needs is some juvenile delinquent from the ’Wood crashing into her world.

Stuck together in close quarters, Trice and Nandy are in for some long summer nights. Only, with the ever-present pull back to the Lindenwood streets, it’ll be a wonder if Trice makes it through this summer at all.

Buy Links:

Harlequin Amazon Barnes & Noble Indie Bound Kobo Books-a-Million Google Play

About the Author:

Whitney D. Grandison was born and raised in Akron, Ohio, where she currently resides. A lover of stories since she first picked up a book, it’s no surprise she’s taken to writing her own. Some of her works can be found on Wattpad, one of the largest online story sharing platforms, where she has acquired over 30,000 followers and an audience of over fifteen million dedicated readers.

Instagram: @wheadee Twitter: @whitney_DG

Genre: Young Adult, Contemporary, Romance

Rating: 4/5 stars

Review: This was an exceptionally enjoyable read for me. I really liked the characters. Trice was so perfectly developed and brought to the page. Nandy seemed to be set as an opposite to Trice, and I really liked their interactions. A lot in this book was well executed. I really enjoyed the dynamics between the characters, as well as the writing. The plot was okay, but the connection I felt to the characters allowed me to keep reading. I have to note though that the pacing didn’t work for me, it felt a bit inconsistent. However, I liked the story, and I really wanted to see how it would turn out in the end.

Excerpt

1 | TRICE

Getting shot isn’t the worst part. It’s the aftermath that really fucks you up.

Six months ago, on a dark December night, I was lying in a pool of my own blood on the living room floor. Six months later, I was sitting in a car on the way to a new town to start fresh. In some ways, yeah, the wound had healed. In others, it never would. I didn’t care, though. The last thing I’d cared about got me where I was.

“You’ll like it there, Tyson. The Smiths have prepared a new home for you,” Misty from social services was saying as she drove the long stretch of highway toward Pacific Hills. It was only an hour away from where I used to live in Lindenwood, California.

I didn’t respond. Home was a meaningless word to me now.

Misty peeked at me. “Aren’t you going to say anything?”

“I can leave as soon as I turn eighteen, right?” That was all that mattered. Fuck the rest. Five months, aka one hundred and sixty days, to go. On November twelfth, I’d be free.

Misty sighed. “Look, I know what you’re going through—”

“Word? You’ve been shot too and all’at?” I glanced her way. This lady was going home to a million-thread-count sheet-and-pillowcase set, resting easy once I was off her hands.

Fuck outta here.

“Well, no, but—”

“Then shut up.” I faced the road ahead, done talking.

Misty let out a breath, her light tan skin no doubt holding a blush upon her cheeks. “Do you kiss your—” She caught herself, as if realizing where she was about to go. “I—I’m sorry. You just shouldn’t speak that way.”

I felt an ache in my chest, but I let it go.

I didn’t care.

Half a beat later Misty was rambling on about food. “Do you wanna stop and get something to eat, you must be starving.”

“I told you I wasn’t hungry.”

“Oh, well, are you nervous?”

I hadn’t thought about being nervous or the fact that I would never return home again and lead a normal life. Not like I’d ever led one to begin with.

“No.”

“Well, good. Think of it as going to a sleepover at an old friend’s house.”

One thing was true, the Smiths were old friends, but this setup was for the next five months.

“It’s been ten years since I last saw them,” I spoke up. “This ain’t no damn sleepover, and it’s not about to be all kumbaya, neither.”

At least they were black. Moving into the uppity setting of Pacific Hills was sure to be hell, but at least I would be with a black family. Even if I wouldn’t exactly fit in.

I didn’t look the same. I didn’t act the same. I wasn’t the same. And I didn’t care.

“Tyson—”

“It’s Trice.” I had asked her to call me that from jump street. No one called me Tyson.

I didn’t want to think about that. I didn’t want to think about anything. I didn’t care.

“Trice, please, try? I know it’s been rough these past few months, but you have a chance at something fresh. The Smiths are good people, and Pacific Hills is a lovely town. I’m sure soon you’ll be close to your old self.”

Misty had no clue what she was talking about. My old self? She obviously hadn’t paid attention to my file, or she would’ve been smart enough to leave it at fresh and not bring up my past.

Tyson Trice was dead.

He died on the floor in the living room that day, and he was never coming back.

When I didn’t respond, Misty let up, probably getting that I didn’t give a shit either way.

I didn’t care.

2 | Nandy

I told myself I didn’t care about the juvenile delinquent my parents were moving into our home. I told myself it was no big deal an ex-con would be sleeping right next door to me. I told myself that my parents hadn’t made the worst decision in everdom.

It was just an everyday occurrence in the Smith household.

Still, it wasn’t fair.

As I paced around the pool in my backyard and complained to my best friend, Erica Yee, over the phone, I expected her to be on my side and console me.

“This was supposed to be a great summer and they pull this?” I whined.

“You can still have a good summer,” Erica responded. “This doesn’t have to be the end.”

But it was the end. My parents hadn’t gone into detail about the boy’s situation, just that he was in a “rough spot” and would be living with us for now. And that he was from Lindenwood, otherwise known as the ghetto.

I’d never gone there, but I’d heard enough stories to know to be cautious. When my parents watched the news, there was always a segment on some tragedy that had happened in Lindenwood. Some high-speed chase, or little kids killed during a drive-by, or a robbery gone wrong among the usual clutter of crime that kept the LPD busy. Lindenwood was notorious for its drugs, thefts, assaults, and murders.

I shivered.

It probably hadn’t been the best idea to stay up lurking on the local news feeds right before the delinquent moved in.

Everything would be ruined.

“It is the end,” I insisted. “I mean, they spent all this time whispering and having these hushed conversations behind closed doors, and they barely revealed last night that he’s from Lindenwood!”

Maybe I was acting childishly, but I felt like a kid with the way my parents had shut me out on the biggest detail of all when it came to the boy coming to stay with us out of nowhere. For two weeks, they’d been scarce on the topic and evaded any and all questions. Now it felt like they’d dropped a bomb on me.

For all I knew, this kid was a total ex-gangbanger and my parents were intent on opening our home to wayward souls.

Dramatic? Sure.

Precautions? I was definitely taking them.

“Right now, you’re probably pacing around your pool ina Gucci bikini while your happily-in-love parents are inside preparing dinner together. God, Nan, your life is incredibly boring. You could use this delinquent to spice things up.”

Well, it was a Sunday evening, and the sun was beginning to set. My parents always made dinner together on Sundays, because they were both off work and able to do so.

I stopped pacing and glanced down at my white Gucci bikini. “Yee, you try new hobbies to spice things up, not invite ex-cons to move in with you. Look, whatever, let’s just get away for a few hours. The longer I put a halt on this, the better.”

“When is he supposed to show up?”

“Sometime today. I just wanna blow it off. Maybe you, me, and Chad could grab a bite at the club or something.”

My boyfriend’s family had a reserved table at the local country club. Anything would be better than dinner with the delinquent. I wasn’t 100 percent sure he was a criminal, but I wasn’t taking any chances. When it came to Lindenwood, you couldn’t be too sure.

“You in?” I asked.

“If we must.” Erica pretended to sound exasperated. “Call me with the details in twenty, okay?”

“Deal.” I hung up and sighed, tilting my head back toward the darkening sky and questioning what I had done to deserve this.

It was the first week of June, and school had ended last week. I intended to spend this summer before senior year going to beach bonfires and parties with my friends, lounging around, preparing for cotillion, and just staying as far away from home as possible.

With a plan in motion, I went around my pool and stepped into our family room through the patio doors.

“Shit!” I jumped back, dropping my phone and barely registering the sound of its rough slap against the hardwood floor.

My parents were standing in the room with an Asian woman who was dressed in a violet-red pantsuit. But it was the boy beside her that startled me. He towered over my father, with broad shoulders and a wide chest, and arms that let me know he worked out, even though he seemed drenched in black with his long-sleeved shirt and matching pants. He had deep, dark brown skin with a clean complexion. But what really stood out was his hair. The boy had cornrows braided to the back of his head—well-aged cornrows.

Ugh, he looked so unpolished.

Suddenly I remembered my fallen phone and looked down to discover the screen was cracked. Because things aren’t messed up enough already.

“And you remember our daughter, Nandy.” My mother played it cool, gesturing toward where I’d frozen near the patio doors.

Everyone faced me, looking just as uncomfortable as I felt.

Great, I was making my first impression completely inappropriate in a bikini.

Awkwardly, I waved and forced a smile onto my face, showing off the result of two years of braces.

“Nandy, this may be a little bit of a surprise, but you remember Tyson Trice, don’t you?” my father asked, looking between the two of us.

At first, the name vaguely rang a bell, but then it hit me. Tyson, the boy I’d played with when I was younger. He used to come by in the summers when his grandfather would do lawn work around our subdivision. There’d been a few times during the school year when he’d come by too, but it was mostly a summer thing. Until he stopped coming altogether.

The revelation brought a sense of relief followed quickly by a foreign anger that I couldn’t explain.

That was then; this is now.

Now Tyson Trice had hit a mega growth spurt and stood before me nearly a man, appearing not at all like the seventeen years young that we both were.

“Right.” I nodded my head. “Tyson, hey.”

Tyson didn’t shift focus to my body. He stared straight into my eyes and bore no friendly expression or a tell of what he was thinking. He was far across the room, but I didn’t need to be right up on him to know that he had the angriest eyes I’d ever seen. Dark, soulless abysses stared at me, making me shiver.

Right on, Dad. Thanks for inviting a possible murderer into our home.

“And this is our son, Jordy.” My mother didn’t miss a beat as she went on, downplaying how awkward everything was.

Jordy, my eleven-year-old little brother, was sitting against the ottoman, playing a video game on his handheld.

Tyson glanced at Jordy, and I felt protective, seeing curiosity briefly cross his face as he laid eyes on my Thai brother.

Jordy looked up from his game. “Hey.”

Tyson lifted a brow and turned to face my parents in that familiar way most outsiders looked at my family once they realized a black family was raising a Thai son.

Jordy smirked, shaking his head. “They wish they could’ve spawned a kid as good‑looking as me.”

My father chuckled. “We spoke about adopting for years after having Nandy, and right around the time she was eight, we got approved and Jordy came into our lives.”

“He was just two years old,” my mother gushed. “He was so adorable, we fell in love with him instantly.”

I came more into the room, wanting to shield my brother from Tyson. Someone had to think of the kids.

“Nandy, why don’t you go put some clothes on.” It wasn’t a question. My mother was ordering me to cover up and look more presentable for our guests.

“I was actually on my way out to meet up with Erica, we’ve got this—”

“Right now?” she asked. “We’ve got company.”

I glanced at Tyson, hating him again for spoiling my summer. I’d seen him, and I’d spoken to him. What more did she want?

“Yeah, but Erica and I had plans to go to the country club and talk about cotillion.”

My mother pursed her lips. “Nandy—”

“You know what,” my father stepped in, “that’s a great idea. Nandy could take Tyson and the two could get reacquainted, and that’ll give us time to talk to Ms. Tran here.”

My eyes practically shot out of their sockets. There was no way in hell I’d share a car with Tyson.

After thinking it over, my mother seemed to agree. “That is a great idea. We can all sit down together later.”

My jaw hit the ground.

I shook my head. “You know, never mind, suddenly I’m not as hungry as I thought. In fact, I feel sick to my stomach. I think I’ll go lie down.”

By the way my mother narrowed her eyes, I knew she’d be giving me hell later about my behavior. I didn’t care. It wasn’t fair to me to force some scary-looking guy into my hands to be babysat.

With one final look at the newest arrival to the Smith household, I picked up my phone from the floor and made my way up to my room.

Long after Ms. Tran had left and my mother had scolded me in our family office, I sat in my room, maneuvering witha broken phone as I texted my boyfriend. Going on a hunger strike didn’t last long for me. After having refused to go down for dinner, I was starving.

My cell phone chirped as Chad texted me back.

Chad: Outside

Me: Thank God

My parents were probably still up, no doubt discussing either my punishment or how we were going to work Tyson into the family.

With their bedroom being in a different wing of our house, sneaking out was always an easy feat. Still, I made sure to keep extra quiet as I crept out of my room and slipped down the staircase.

Chad was waiting for me out front. He’d been pacing back and forth in front of our walk as he waited, and as I stepped outside I was elated to see him.

“I’m thinking sushi, you in?” I asked as I walked past him, heading for his car.

“Yeah, sure. What’s going on?” Chad asked as he caught up to me and fell into step.

I peered up into his blue eyes. “You don’t want to know.”

Chad ran a hand through his auburn hair, appearing confused but conceding. “O-kay, let’s go get some sushi.”

At the feeling of being watched, I glanced back at my house. On the second floor, through one of the large bay windows, I caught sight of a silhouetted figure.

It was him.

Creep.

I turned back to Chad and reached out and caught his hand. “Yeah, let’s get out of here.”

This was my summer, and no one was getting in the way of that.

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