#even if i have shut off my phone a lock myself in a dark room | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ohsohoney · 2 months ago

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When it comes to love you're just as blinded.

Part Nine

Eminem x Musician

Summary: It starts with a drunk embarrassing video, it spirals into something a whole lot more.

Note: It’s here! Just figured I’d get it out quick, so I spent ages just writing and then editing! Hope it’s up to par? It’s a long one, again..

Might edit this again when I'm not running on three hours sleep:) x

| Set in 2014, just after the release of LP 2

taglist: @thelastemzy

Masterlist

It wasn’t too long after my call with Danny ended that I stepped back through the garden door and into the kitchen, only to find Marshall already there, elbows pressed against the counter as he typed away on his phone. He looked up at the creak of the door and so I smiled in hello, tucking my own phone into my back pocket as I padded on closer, making sure to lock up behind me.

“Danny said his goodbyes and apologised again for his army mates.” I found myself saying with a slight chuckle and watched as Em turned off his phone to set it to the side, pushing up and away from the countertop.

“Was nice to meet him. You speak about him a lot.” Marshall replied with a small smile, the getsure genuine even under the bright lights the kitchen offered. “Kid’s in bed already,” He added with a slight jilt of his chin before his head turned ever so towards the hallway, “You up for another night of tv?”

Grinning, honestly unable to help the action, I widened my eyes and feigned fawning over the very idea, “God, you know how to entertain a woman. Who needs alcohol and a club full of sweaty people when you’ve got Rick Grimes and walkers waiting for you?”

Marshall rolled his eyes in retort, scoffing lightly in amusement, but I did note the uneasy look that crossed his face, even if it only lasted a split second. “Never claimed to be babysittin’ you whilst you’re here. You wanna go out, go ahead.”

It was my turn to gift him an eye roll then, the daft idiot. “And miss the chance of another popcorn fight breaking out? Yeah, I think not.” I said as I waltzed past him, heading straight for the living room we’d invaded the night previous.

I was still searching for the remote when he finally emerged in the doorway behind me, pausing there briefly. It was only once I’d finally caught sight of the stupid thing that he chose to speak up again, “I was bein’ serious, before. You don’t have to stay cooped up here with us.”

The tele had since been turned on, the screen buzzing to life before its loading page flashed up to greet us. My brow furrowed in my stance by the edge of the settee and it stayed even as I turned to spare him a glance from over my shoulder. He looked a little ominous standing there in the shadow of the doorway, the tv being the only thing to shed a small amount of warmth and light into the dark room.

“Shut up, I was just messing.” I waved off whilst flashing him a wry smile, before I turned back to the tv screen so that I could scroll my way back to the series we’d been watching the night before.

But Marshall didn’t appear to be anymore at peace after hearing the sentiment, his shoulders were tense and his forehead was suddenly littered with slight lines when he decided to bypass me and drop down onto the sofa.

I joined him a couple seconds later, throwing him a wary glance as I clicked on the third episode we’d somehow managed to get to and lowered myself down onto the cushions less than arm's length away.

The show started and for the first ten minutes we sat in a mutual silence, though I couldn’t help but feel as though I’d made a real big misstep with my earlier joke. It was just as the scene shifted again, the library moulding into the prison’s outer fields, that Marshall shifted, using the pillow between us as an excuse to shuffle into a better position, one which left him sitting a whole lot closer than he’d previously been.

My legs had come up to hide beneath me not long after I’d first sat down, so with his new position it just meant that my knees were now almost grazing his own. My eyes flickered between the barely there touch and the tv screen.

Marshall slumped. Knee pressing further into my own.

I allowed it, wondering if it was purposeful.

“Sorry.” He murmured after a static moment passed and he didn’t make the effort to move away either. I wondered if that was really what he was apologising for.

Deciding not to comment on it, I simply shifted so that my head could rest against the back cushion of the couch, leaving my shoulder and side to fall in line with his torso. I felt, more than heard, him look over at me, before his focus was back on the tv screen once more.

We sat that way for the remainder of that episode, my eyes growing heavier the further in we got. I put it down to the residual lapse in jetlag, but Marshall’s presence and his unusual knack for always being able to radiate body heat like a sodding furnace might have had something to do with it too.

I jerked slightly when I eventually felt my head fall forward, startling myself a tad, and pulled back from the way I’d been just about ready to nod right off. My temple seemed to have caught the curve of Em’s shoulder though on the way down and so I shuffled back a tad to flash him a sleepy smile full of silent apology, to which he merely shook his own head and shifted so that he could offer up his shoulder without words said or questions asked.

My throat grew a little tight at the gesture, never really having had that sort of companionship before, even in the people closest to me, and slowly allowed my chin to droop, almost cautiously as if I was preparing for him to laugh me off. But he didn’t. Simply waited me out, like a person would a stray dog when trying to lure them near.

I must’ve fallen asleep there after a while, which surprised me enough to have me blinking blearily awake again once I’d realised, because the next thing I knew the sofa had shifted and the soft light from the tele had since paused in its stuttering of scenes.

Sniffing, I attempted to bury myself further into the cushions beneath me, missing the warmth that I’d found there just moments before, but it was then that I heard a light huff of laughter, one which had me rubbing at my eyes only to cast a glance towards it.

Marshall was there, standing over me, one hand on my knee whilst he tried to shake me awake as gently as he could. My gaze caught on the small smile he wore, the same one which appeared to grow when I frowned up at him and then around the room, trying to get a sense for what had happened and where I’d fallen asleep.

A tap to my knee had me looking back at him.

“Missed two episodes.” Marshall mentioned in a low murmur, smirking at the way I wrinkled my nose in turn, “Don’t think I’m rewatchin’ them jus’ ‘cause your ass decided to fall asleep.”

I hummed, still attempting to wrap my head around the fact that I’d just been asleep and was now somewhat awake, whilst simultaneously trying to stay alert enough not to fall back into that blissful state. “Sorry.” I whispered tiredly, barely even aware of the word as it slipped past my lips.

Marshall’s mouth quirked upwards before his head was shaking again, “You’re good, was just kidding.”

I smiled at the thought of him watching the episodes for a third time, just for me, and then giggled a little.

His hand encased my knee again but squeezed gently this time, it was when I looked over at him that I realised I’d let my eyes slip closed again. “Come on, gotta get movin’.”

I dreaded the very thought of moving but knew even in my dreary state that I couldn’t stay curled up on the sofa, so I inhaled quietly and moved to nod my head, taking the hand that wasn’t holding my leg and allowing it to hoist me up.

Marshall was smooth and considerate in the way he helped guide me up, letting me lean into his side as he turned off the tv, leaving only the nearby lamp to light our way out of the living room and into the hallway. I stumbled slightly on the small step that separated the two adjacent rooms but Marshall was there again, arm wrapped tightly around my middle whilst his other hand gripped my own, to keep me steady.

I blinked a little more at the almost fall, allowing myself to pause and squeeze my eyes shut tight enough that when I opened them again the world was a little less blurred at the edges. “I’m knackered.” I ended up saying, voice carrying in a dull whisper.

Em responded with a light snort, the hand at my hip squeezing a fraction as we started up the staircase. “This gone be a usual thing with you, me carryin’ you to bed?” He wondered, though even in my sleepy state I could tell that the ask was more humorous than anything slightly related to irritation.

Still, the question reminded me of the night before when he’d also helped aid me up the stairs. The image of his smirking face flashed to the forefront of my mind at the prompt, the way he had waited for me to step beyond my bedroom door before he’d finally allowed himself to walk away. Tomorrow, he’d said whilst my fingers had toyed with the door’s handle.

“No.” I murmured then to his question, sniffing as I slumped further in his hold, wondering over the steps and why he had so many of them. “Normally I’m a night owl. Don’t sleep much.” I added in explanation, the words accompanied by another sleepy smile that had him gazing down at me.

Marshall hummed but was quiet as we moved up onto the landing, it was only when we reached my door that he shifted ever so to get it open, the handle clunking back up again in his haste to keep me upright against his side. I murmured another quiet apology.

“Stop sayin’ sorry, dummy.”

I snorted at the term, eyes slipping closed again, “Is that meant to be endearing?”

His tut echoed throughout the bedroom and it was then that I realised I was perched on the end of the king size bed. I blinked, but instead of peering around the rest of the room, my eyes caught on him and the way he was now pulling back the sheets, reshuffling the many pillows on the other end.

My lips rolled against one another before I thought to say something, “Too many.”

Marshall peered back at me from where he was stood leaning over the bed, one knee pressed into the mattress. I wondered briefly if he knew how good he looked then, before he spoke again, brow raised. “What?”

“Pillows.” I muttered, hand flapping lazily over to the mountain.

For a long second he just stayed there, eyes turning towards the top of the bed before they met mine once more. I rubbed at my face to hide an oncoming yawn. He waited another second before pillows started to fly.

Startled by the soft thuds they made when they hit the floor, I watched on as he windled the stack down to a simple two, fluffing them before his head was turning towards me once more. “Good?”

His voice was ever so soft, all kind and gentle like. It made the words I felt like saying get stuck in my throat and a light flush to paint my cheeks, I nodded.

It was then that he tilted his head in a gesture for me to move, smiling to himself as I rolled over the top of the duvet to settle on the sheeted mattress beneath. I flashed him another tired grin after settling in, wriggling beneath the sheets to get comfy and fight away the cold that had crawled in beside me.

My face seemed to crease after that and I tugged at the duvet to get the bed frame to release its bottom end. Marshall caught on quick enough and pulled it free for me whilst I shuffled out of the trousers I’d yet to take off. He blinked at the sight of the fabric which appeared a moment later, before he snorted to himself and offered to take them, stepping away to fold them up and place them down on the dresser nearby.

“All good?” He asked once again. I glanced back at him from under the cocoon I’d created and took in the softness of his smile, the way his hands were now folded politely behind his back, and how he was simply just waiting for me to answer him, as though he had all the time in the world and wasn’t fighting off sleep himself.

I nodded, my chin hidden beneath the covers but my returning smile was able to be seen in the slight curve of my cheeks. “Good.” I whispered. Then, feeling a little silly, I added, “Sorry for–”

He waved the end of my sentence off, stepping closer to the bed as he reached out, ready to turn off the bedside lamp. “Don’t worry ‘bout it. Makes me feel useful.” Smirking, his fingers grasped the lamp’s cord but he didn’t move to pull it just yet.

“Still,” I pushed, eyes growing heavier once more now that I was surrounded by the weighted quilt that seemed to be hellbent on capturing all the heat that it could, “Thank you, I don’t usually..”

Marshall’s smirk dimmed ever so into something more thoughtful, “Means a lot that you trust me. Don’t stress about where you fall asleep.”

Trust. Wasn’t that a funny fucking thing.

The lamp was off and he was walking away before I could utter a reply to that, and it was only when the door creaked open a tad bit further to let him have his escape that I let the weight of his words sink in.

It was a maddening thought to realise that I did trust him. Wholeheartedly. And that was probably the strangest thing.

–

I could not for the life of me have told you where I was, let alone what the time it could have possibly been, when I roused from my coma-like state.

The first thing I noted was that the curtains had all been closed and the jumper I’d worn last night had since been tossed to the floor alongside a plethora of pillows. It was slow going, pulling myself up and into a sitting position, letting the duvet pool around my hips when I attempted to get my brain to function properly again.

It was another minute or two before I found the strength to roll over and make a grab for my phone, only to find that it had since been plugged into the outlet by the bedside table to charge. My brow pinched at the sight, not recalling having put it on charge, but still I reached out to grab it.

The light I was met with had me wincing before I managed to adjust, eyes widening slightly at the time I was shown. Almost eleven. Wow, it was honestly somewhat of an achievement for me, seeing as the bouts of insomnia I often wavered through had me falling asleep far too late and waking far too early. I figured all the flying and the hectic schedule I’d had before landing in Detroit had finally caught up to me.

My mind short circuited at the reminder. Detroit. Marshall.

“Shit.” I hissed, dropping the phone down onto the mattress as I willed myself to get out of bed.

I tried to remember what had transpired after talking to Danny, how I’d let myself be lulled by the tv and the comfort of the man sat beside me.

Dragging a hand over my face, I felt a bout of embarrassment flutter through me, feeling oddly caught out at having let someone see me so exposed. My legs dangled over the edge of the bed for a long moment before I finally found the energy to move, pulling my body over towards the bathroom and into the shower before I could regret the decision. Any of them, including both the night befores and the choice to not linger any longer in my pit.

The shower worked wonders for waking me up that little bit more, pushing the last remnants of sleep from my mind as I stood under its spray. It was then that I found myself feeling thankful again for Marshall and all his odd eccentricities, for him being the overanalyzing type and having had the guest bath stocked with not just the necessities most would need, but the ones he figured I’d like, seeing as the theme was a mix of vanilla and coconut– something I’d mentioned after I’d gotten a delivery of candles a couple weeks prior.

I tried to push the thoughts of how endearing that whole mess was, the fact that he’d gone and remembered, as I stepped out and made quick work of getting ready for the day, forgoing drying my hair so that I could slip into the baggiest jeans I owned and a soft tee that often slipped over the curve of my shoulder.

The house was oddly quiet when I slipped past the bedroom door and down the steps, once again forcing thoughts of last night out of my head, of his grip, the soft smiles we shared, the–

I took a much needed breath when I reached the bottom, swivelling on my heel to cast a glance about. I knew that Rosie must have already been at school even without me not spotting her bag or shoes by the door, but I was still left with the feeling of longing I often experienced whenever I woke up to find that Lottie had since left.

Pushing on though, I noted that the house didn’t have that familiar chill I was used to enduring back home. The English weather was a mess of emotions even on summer days where the sun shone brightly, so it was nice not to be shivering my way into the kitchen and over to the kettle.

It was after doing exactly that though, that I spotted a small post-it stuck to the fridge door.

(Dropped off Z, in the studio if you need me. Eat! - Em)

Snorting softly at it, I tore the note down and let the corner press into the pad of my forefinger for a second or two. It was nice, having someone care enough to not want me to worry. Even the whole Eat! had me grinning, so used to running on fumes and pure anxiety that I often forgot. It was strange to note that it was a habit he’d picked up on, or perhaps I was just thinking too much into it. Maybe it was just him being personable.

Still, I folded the post-it up and slid it into the back of my phone case all the same. Not stopping to think twice about the why as I looked up at the kettle’s violent whistle.

I moved through my usual morning motions with an ease that shouldn’t have felt effortless in a kitchen that was not mine, but I did, walking to sit at the island not long after I’d procured myself a cup of tea and some toast.

I took to scrolling through my phone, checking Twitter for updates on friends back home and then moving over to Netflix to see if there were any new series that had dropped and appeared worth watching.

It was during that time that my phone soon rang. With one glance at the name I was wearing a mad grin and swiping to answer, “Well, isn’t this a surprise!”

A short scoff could be heard from the other side of the line before a familiar lilt trailed through, “And here I thought I was going to be met with love and a plethora of questions about my wellbeing. But no, only your sincerest sarcasm!” Lottie sighed theatrically, as though she wasn’t defeating the entire purpose behind her whole spiel.

“It’s seemingly a familial trait.” I quipped with a fond roll of my eyes, “But I have missed hearing your voice, texts don’t make up for much.”

“And what about my short videos?” Lottie replied with enough emotion behind her voice that I could already guess that she was raising one brow and pursing her lips. “Did they not suffice enough?”

“You mean the three second clips you keep sending me?” I laughed around a sip of tea, thinking back to the latest one I’d received the very same morning, “I don’t think me seeing your knee and hearing a Rihanna song play in the background is the same thing as knowing you’re alright back there.”

“Is too, and there were others!” Lottie immediately defended before a few other voices trailed through, “How about the one of me in Maths, hey?”

My face flattened at the reminder, “You mean the one of you gettin’ your phone taken away by your teacher?”

“Yes! See, all was fine, even Ms Plait reckoned so.” She quipped, the glee which lined her tone was oh so audible. “Did you not see that lovely smile of hers?”

I almost choked on my next chuckle, not having expected the comment, “Oh yeah, I saw. She still looks the same as the last time I saw her, face like a slapped arse and with one too many missing teeth.” Lottie sniggered and once again those voices from earlier followed, “You on your way home?” I wondered, looking down at the time and noting that she should have already left school by now.

“Yeah, just walking with Shan and Tea.” Her answer was followed by a loud hurrah of hellos from the pair that had me smiling.

“Heya girls, hope you’re all alright!” I greeted, listening to them ramble away for a couple of minutes about this and that, throwing me back to the days where the two girls had first come over to visit Lotts.

Time got away from me a little after that, leaving me with an almost finished but cold brew and the remnants of my toast that I soon got up to throw and wash away whilst Lottie and her mates said their goodbyes so that they could part ways.

“You’re having a good time then?” I found myself asking once Lotts had finished speaking about her school day, “Nothing I should worry about?”

I could practically feel the roll of her eyes as she huffed, “Yes, Lia. Honest. I’ve been keeping you updated, Mila too, whenever she texts– even Danny called yesterday! Did you meet those knobheads he calls friends? The Irish one’s well fit.”

Pursing my lips to keep from smiling, I shook my head at her antics. “I did and need I remind you, you’re fourteen?”

“I was just stating a fact!” Lottie argued, her voice unable to be drowned out even by the car that then passed, “God, you’d think you didn’t know me at all.” She tacked on, her tone teasing enough that I knew she wasn’t too bothered by the fact that she’d been called out.

“Know you too well.” I rebuked half-heartedly and then smiled at the response I was met with.

“Too much like you.”

“A shame that,” I snorted as I took back to sitting at the counter, eyes caught on the length of land that stretched out beyond the back door.

“Slander.” Lottie sniped, “But also the truth.”

We shared a chuckle even as I rolled my eyes, which led me onto the next topic of conversation I’d been wanting to bring up since my phone call with Danny in New York, “How’s things working out at Mum’s then?”

A pause followed that question. One that went on a second too long and had my shoulders tensing.

“Lotts?”

“Hm? Sorry, was just– crossing the road, you know.”

“Don’t lie. Tell me what’s going on before I hop on a plane and find out for myself.” I threatened, eyes catching on the island countertop as I pressed the phone closer to my ear, as though by doing so it would somehow allow me to be that little bit closer to her.

“So dramatic,” Lottie joked but it fell flat, what with my impatience and the lack of humour which lined her tone. She sighed, “Dad got out early.”

My whole world seamlessly fell apart at those four words.

I couldn’t form a coherent thought let alone any real words, so it was only Lottie’s voice calling my name that had me blinking back out of my frozen stance and inhaling sharply. “What?”

She coughed, either to clear her throat or to buy herself a little more time, I didn’t know, but couldn’t bring myself to care. “He– well, he’s on parole. Got out about a week ago. Staying with Mum, sort of.”

“Sort of?” I jumped out of the barstool I’d taken up to begin treacherously pacing. For a brief moment I wondered whether it was possible for me to wear away the pattern in Marshall’s kitchen tiles. “What are you on about, Lottie? He’s serving sixteen years.”

A heavy sigh. “Obviously he got out on good behaviour then, served just over fourteen, din’t he?”

I swallowed thickly, a motion which flipped my stomach and had me threatening to throw up the toast I’d just eaten. “Good fucking behaviour, him?” I scoffed out a laugh that was entirely mirthless, “And she’s just let him back, has she? I thought she was done with him the second he was inside!”

Lottie didn’t say anything to that, or for a while longer. It took me a minute to notice what with how seething I was.

I forced myself to take a breath, because this wasn’t about me. Then started to think a bit more rationally.

“Look, I’ll look up flights now, yeah? I can be home by tonight, or tomorrow morning if I’m lucky. I don’t know yet. Just have to contact Mila, then talk with Marsh– Shit.”

Marshall, what was I going to tell Marshall?

“Elia.”

Blinking, my reeling thoughts were immediately stopped by the sound of my sister’s voice, soft but demanding. She waited and I was left to tug a hand through my still damp hair.

“Listen, please don’t come back.”

What?

“What?” I croaked out, the ground having been ripped out from under me.

“It’s working.” Lottie replied, her voice still soft, trying to be kind. “I mean, I’ve stayed with Shan some nights but I’ve been staying at the house too. And it’s– it’s not bad, El. It’s nice even, to get to know him and things. Like at my own pace and whatnot.”

I didn’t know what to say.

“He’s changed apparently. Mum reckons so anyway, it’s what she told me.” Lottie continued on, filling the silence I’d left her with whilst my entire planet shifted, “Not so angry, or sad. Just tryna find a job and stuff, so he can follow the rules of his probation or something. Not sure. Din’t ask too much about it. He’s staying with Mum but he keeps to himself when he’s not trying to make amends and crap. Make up for lost time.”

Staying with Mum. In my fucking house, the very same one I’d paid for. That fucking scummy shitheaded cun–

I forced myself to breathe.

“El, it’s working out. I–” Lottie said, then took a second. When she spoke again, she sounded so small, her voice almost pleading, “He’s my Dad, Elia. I just want the chance to know him.”

My hand fell from my hair to cover my mouth, desperate to keep the sob that wanted to escape from being heard down the line. I swallowed it back, gave a shaky exhale, but eventually nodded. Even if it was just to myself.

“Okay, Lotts.” I heard myself say, somehow. “Okay, yeah. That’s, it’s fair.”

I was rewarded with a big huff of air, one that told me I’d done the right thing, that she was relieved to hear me say that it was all fine. “Thanks, El! Knew you’d understand.”

I didn’t. I don’t, I wanted to say.

“Yeah, ‘course, Lotts. He’s your,” I swallowed again, the walls of my throat itching, hands shaking ever so slightly, “–Dad. If it’s what you want then, yeah. Who am I to stop you?”

Who am I?

Violent flashes flooded my mind, words, voices. Then I was back in the kitchen again.

“Just, promise me, Lottie. Promise me that anything happens, you call me. You call Mila. You call Dan. Okay? Anyone. Anyone who can get to me. I’ll be there.” I told her in a low murmur, the desperation I felt seeping through but I didn’t take enough note of it to care. This was too important. “Promise me, Lotts.”

I could hear her smile in her next words, “Promise, El. Always. I love you.”

“Yeah, kiddo. I love you, too.”

…

I don’t know how much time passed after the call dropped, leaving me with nothing but the light spatter of rain that knocked against the house. But soon enough I was startled from where I’d been standing by the window in some sort of trance, staring down at the phone I still held in my hand.

I looked up so fast it almost hurt, but my alarmed look softened when I noticed it was just Marshall stood there, a slight furrow marring the skin between his brows. “Figured I’d come find you.”

My eyes slipped closed as I jilted my chin in reply, taking a much needed breath before casting another glance out across the garden. My mind was stuck on my conversation I’d had with Lottie, on thoughts of home and plans that would ultimately fall through.

A hand encased my elbow. “Yo, you good?” Marshall was still there, having ducked his head a tad to better look into my glossy eyes, that frown more prominent than it had been just moments before.

I stared back at him and felt my lip wobble, before I took another short breath and put on a smile, hoping it was sort of semi-convincing seeing as I nodded in retort. Must have been a tough fucking wish though because he levelled me with an expression that ultimately called out on all my bullshit.

“You wanna try that again?”

I casted my eyes downwards and chewed on the inside of my cheek, feeling the way his hand inched up my arm before he eventually wrapped me up in his hold, letting me bury my head in the curve of his shoulder. My eyes squeezed tightly shut and even though I didn’t move to hug him back, I sagged into his hold, which must have told him enough to keep the two of us standing there.

“Who was on the phone?” He queried after a short while, fingers trailing over the small of my back almost subconsciously, but the gesture was enough to soothe the well in my throat and the chaos I had going on inside my mind.

“Lottie.” I answered, voice meek even to my own ears.

His chest moved with each breath he took, legs spread just far enough apart that his feet encased my own, and he smelt so familiar that it made me wonder just how quickly I’d grown to be comforted by it. Was that even normal?

“You need to head back?” He wondered out loud, the parent in him jumping out at the thought of something having happened with my sister, “You can use the jet, I can get Paul on it now.”

It amused me to no end to understand the lengths he’d go to help not just me, but my family too, warmed me completely in fact, but the offer also left me feeling lost. Because even though I would have left the second Lottie asked, I would have been devastated to leave.

I shook my head where it rested against his shoulder, pressing my forehead to the joint there before I spoke, “No,” I told him, the syllable wavering, “Just– she asked me to stay.”

“Right.” Marshall said quietly, though it felt like he’d forced the word out, “And you don’t want to?” He questioned, trying to understand.

My head shook once more, “It’s complicated.”

His hold tightened by a fraction and we stayed that way for a long second, then two, before he drew back to get a good look at me. “You wanna talk?”

I couldn’t stand to look into his eyes in that moment, far too fearful that I’d just end up crying then and there, so I sniffed instead and glanced off to the side. “Just complicated, I guess.” I muttered, repeating myself whilst trying so very hard not to think about the anxiety I felt over leaving Lottie there, thousands of miles away from me.

“Well, complicated’s my middle fuckin’ name.” Em replied and I couldn’t help it, the stupidness of it made me laugh and I knuckled at his stomach in retort, dropping my eyes. But he stilled my hands, holding them close so that I would finally look up at him, “Mean it.”

I already knew that though.

I peered down at our hands, the way my fists were now pressed against his chest, his bigger than my own and all but swallowing them whole.

“Lottie’s dad.” Is what I found myself saying, eyes locked on the tribal tattoo that encased his wrist. Em nodded gently, the gesture moving his torso as he shifted beneath my hands.

The muscle of my cheek was all torn up from where I’d been chewing away in my anxious mess, stressing over it all, and so I tried my best to keep from biting at it once more, not wanting to cut too deep. But even so, the notion typically centred me so I was now at a loss for how to process the plethora of thoughts that kept running through my head like a freight train at full speed.

Marshall seemed to sense this though, because not a second later were his thumbs running over the ridge of my knuckles. I felt my hands slacken a bit in their fisted hold.

“Well, you know how I mentioned he was inside? That first day I was here.” I finally continued, moving to peer back up at him again, only to find that he was already watching me, the blue of his eyes a shock to the system. I shook my head slightly and took another deep breath, “He got out, parole apparently. For good behaviour,” I scoffed at the very reminder but pushed on, “He’s staying with my mum and so that ultimately means Lottie too. Seeing as I’m not there.”

Marshall had since stilled in his entirety, I wasn’t even sure if he was breathing with how suddenly motionless he went, but then his chin dipped and his thumbs resumed their gentle caress. “And she said not to go back?” He asked, clarifying.

I shook my head. “She–” I tried to get the words out but had to pause, if only for a second, to actually form them, “She wants to get to know him. Says he’s alright now, that he’s changed.” My eyes rolled on their own accord at that, not believing it for a second, “And well, who would I be to deny her that, hey? I mean, I know how she felt, never knew my dad, but she has a chance, you know? She’d hate me if I took it from her. Even if I know better.”

I slumped when I was finally able to take another much needed breath, inhaling deep enough to dislodge the heaviness that weighed on my chest but not enough to clear it completely.

Em tugged on my wrists lightly and so I peered back at him, aware of the seriousness he had since taken on. “What’s that mean, know better?” He asked and I had to pretend I didn’t reel back from him, like it hadn’t been the first reaction to the reminder that simultaneously crossed my mind. “Hey,” He tugged again, even gentler than he had before but enough to draw back my gaze, “You don’t gotta tell me shit, but,” He paused, eyes flitting between my own, “I’m here, okay?”

Nodding, incapable of doing much else, I said, “I know.”

He gifted the tiny beginnings of a smile sincere enough to have me pressing my nails into the curve of my palms. “Is she safe? With him there.” He clarified and I could only blink up at him, he waited me out.

“I think so. I–” I stuttered, memories hitting me again. I tried to brush them away, but failed. “He wouldn’t hurt her, I know that.”

Just you then.

The words went unsaid but the look in his eyes told me all I needed to know. His hold lessened until I was able to let my hands drop to my sides. Marshall cleared his throat but I saw the way his hands fisted as he stepped away, “Was gone ask to work in the studio today, but we can just chill instead. Or you can do your own thing.”

I was quick to shake my head, already onboard with the studio idea. “No, studio sounds good. Keep my mind off shit.” I replied, looking down to check my phone and biting my lower lip when no new notifications from Lottie had come through.

“You sure?” Marshall prodded and when I looked over to him it almost appeared as though he was appraising me under a newfound light, behind the carefully guarded fortress that was his gaze.

Trying not to frown, I nodded again in assurance. “Yeah, just lemme text her again, and maybe Mila, then I’ll be right there.”

He continued to watch me for a second longer and it was only as I was about to say something about it, that he moved. “I’ma grab some drinks. You have a preference?”

Blowing out a breath, I shrugged lightly, “Water, juice, anything really. I don’t mind.”

Marshall seemed to take that as an incentive to grab a majority of the fridge, loading it all up on the counter beside him before he let the door swing close behind him. I raised a brow after having pulled up Mila’s contact and bit back the obvious laugh that wanted to escape when he mimicked the gesture, “What?”

“You good to carry all that?”

He glanced over to the plethora of bottles he’d procured and then back to me, “Two trips.” He declared as he swiped half of the contents into his arms.

I laughed at the picture he made, wondering how easy it was for him to flip my moods entirely. “We don’t need that many!”

“If I could, I’d flip you off right now.” Was the only reply I was given as he wandered out of the kitchen.

I let go of a sigh as I moved back to glance down at my phone again.

Messages To: Mila (Master/Manager/Obi-wan?) Did you know? About Lottie?

It only took a second before those familiar three dots were littering the bottom of my screen. Though in fairness, her phone was basically her fulltime job.

Messages Mila (Master/Manager/Obi-wan?) Everything’s fine. I told her not to worry you.

I couldn’t stop the scowl that overwhelmed my face at her response.

Messages To: Mila (Master/Manager/Obi-wan?) You serious? How was that your decision to make mila??

Messages Mila (Master/Manager/Obi-wan?) I care about the both of you. It wasn’t a split second decision, it was something I talked to Lottie about at length. She was the one who asked me to wait until I told you. I didn’t want it to interfere with what we had going on.

The fury which licked through me at her reply made her words feel too ingenuine.

Messages To: Mila (Master/Manager/Obi-wan?) Still not your fucking choice to make You should have told me You’re my manager, not her mother

Messages Mila (Master/Manager/Obi-wan?) Oh is all I am then? A manager? I thought we were closer than that, at least it felt that way when you went and entrusted Lottie to me, when you gave me that trust and asked me not to regret it. This is me trying, El. I didn’t choose to be the person to mediate between you both, that just came with the job. If you don’t like how I dealt with it, then maybe you should rethink having me in your sister's life.

Messages To: Mila (Master/Manager/Obi-wan?) Is this your way of guilt tripping me? I just can’t believe you didn’t mention it, not once! You are my manager mila, but I thought you were my friend first and foremost Using me being here as an excuse, with you not wanting to use something like Lottie’s father coming back into her life to intervene with my work? Is just beyond wild. I really can’t believe you didn't tell me

Messages Mila (Master/Manager/Obi-wan?) I thought I was doing best by the both of you. Just call me, Elia. Please?

Messages To: Mila (Master/Manager/Obi-wan?) I need some time to think Maybe later

I quickly switched back to my messages with Lottie, inhaling sharply when I saw that she’d replied to my last text.

Messages To: Lottiebug 🐞 I love you loads and I wanna be there for you But I know you need to do this on your own I’m just worried Always worry about you, bug, but this is something I really didn't prepare for

Messages Lottiebug 🐞 I’m sorry I didn’t tell u Just figured it would be easier to wait til u got back Maybe u could meet him then, see how good it is My stomach rolled at the thought of being close to that man again, but I pushed through and didn’t linger on thoughts of me at sixteen.

Messages To: Lottiebug 🐞 I can get a flight home anytime If you want me, I’m a phone call away You know that right?

Messages Lottiebug 🐞 I know but this is something I need to do On my own Like I love u Els, but this is for me to do

She knew where to hit where it hurt, I supposed, as I stared down at the messages that had come through not thirty seconds after my own.

Messages To: Lottiebug 🐞 Promise me, Lottie Anything happens, you call me

Messages Lottiebug 🐞 Nothing will happen but I promise Promise to also call u before bed tonite yh?

I bit down hard on my cheek at the reassurance, which did nothing to reassure me, and felt the first ebb of blood, the way its metallic taste fled over my tongue in a haste to flood its entirety. Silently I cursed myself, but before I knew it my thumbs were flying over my screen again.

Messages To: Lottiebug 🐞 Okay Love you, bug x

Messages Lottiebug 🐞 Love u more weirdo!! Xxxx

I guessed that it would just have to do for now.

A creak had me looking up and to no one’s surprise Marshall had come back for the second half of drinks, so I pocketed my phone after making sure that it was on alert and not the usual silent, then moved to meet him at the counter. “Want help?”

His eyes narrowed at the offer and he was quick to swipe the lot of them up, “I said two trips.”

Shaking my head, I could do nothing but follow the idiot. Hoping to whoever was out there that the time in the studio would do me some good and allow me to leave thoughts of the past behind. For a while at least.

–

The studio was just a rather large portion of the lower level of Marshall’s house. It was decked out though, kitted with all the latest works and better than a majority of studios I’d worked in, truthfully. But it also had this homey sort of feel that allowed the music to flow a lot better simply due to the atmosphere that offered a familiar comfort.

“You got it?”

I let the door close slowly behind me, trying not to let its heavy weight cause a slam, before I trailed my way back on over to where Marshall was sat on one of the two black couches. They were leather and sleek, but their obvious expense was muted by the multiple layers of blankets and pillows he had lining them.

I glanced at him and held up the bound book I had in hand, having darted up the stairs to pull it from my case when I realised he wanted to work through lyrics first thing.

A majority of my thoughts were often jotted down in one notebook or another, but the notes app was a saviour for whenever an idea struck me and my book wasn’t near. I’d brought just the one on this trip, seeing as I’d been using it for the last two years and it was as thick as an actual brick. But back home I had about twelve others littering an old shelf in a room I mostly used for storage. The pleasures of having a house with rooms you didn’t really need, I figured.

Marshall’s eyes widened slightly at the sight of it, wrapped and bound in a thick wire to keep the pages from spilling open. I smirked in turn, wandering closer to slump down in the seat beside him, his laptop and the many pages he already had scattered about.

“You said book, not doorstop.” He mentioned when I turned to him, eyes still caught on the thing.

I thumped him with it before I placed it down by his laptop.

“Jesus.” He huffed, hand coming up to rub the arm I’d hit, before he made a reach for it.

I cringed silently in wait, it was one thing to write in the thing but there were all sorts of odd bits and bobs in that book; from little receipts from dinners that had inspired songs to bottle caps and Polaroids that had written me albums.

“Be careful,” I hurried when his fingers unwound the strap I’d had to superglue twice in the past month alone, “It’s basically–”

“Falling apart?” Marshall finished for me.

I smiled sheepishly in turn, shoulders jutting upwards in a shrug. “Yeah.”

He huffed a small laugh whilst I thinned my lips to keep from chuckling along with him.

A normal person wouldn’t have really known where to start with a notebook this size, especially seeing as the pages were both upside down and back to front, having been written in haphazardly over the years and oftentimes stuck back together. But it was also due to the first few pages being all blacked out and slightly torn, an artistic choice I’d claim over the truth of my hatred for the words that had once marked it, as well as the paw prints of a mate’s dog who had won a battle of tug of war with it.

But Marshall had never once claimed to be conventional and so he headed straight for the middle where a large photo had been stuck in, surrounded by a multitude of signatures, drawings and markings. “What’s this?”

At his question, I followed his gaze down to where his fingers toyed with the book, fighting against gravity to keep the remaining pages from spilling over.

“Mostly from people I’ve worked with over the past year or two. Musicians, writers, producers, even got a couple roadies too. But there are some markings from mates– like, see that little picture of a cow, right there? That was my friend Fran, she does tattoos and the like, figured it would be a nice addition. She’s beyond talented though, did this massive mural for me back home.” I paused to look the rest of them over, then reached out to point at a signature floating nearby, “That there is David’s little hello, a smiley face alongside a couple drops of his coffee.”

“As in Bowie?” Marshall asked me, eyes caught and flitting over everything else the page had to offer.

I blew out a small chuckle but nodded, “Yeah, it was just before his 25th album came out. He was proper lovely, only got to talk to him for a few minutes though.”

Marshall hummed and then tapped a finger against a stark green ink that blotted a corner of the page, “This one?”

“Matty Healy. Worked with him on the last release. He just drew a massive knob because he is one.” I replied, thinking back to last time I’d been in London and spotted him and some of the band in a Soho nightclub. “They released their own album a month or so before your last. It’s their first but they’re brilliant.”

He hummed again, so I wasn’t sure as to whether he knew who the fuck I was going on about, but before I could explain a little, Em grabbed my attention once more, gesturing towards the page’s main focus, the picture. “How old were you here?”

I scratched the side of my neck and thought about it, “I wanna say twenty-two? Maybe? Don’t quote me on that though, but yeah, around that age.”

The picture was a cutout from the Camden New Journal at one of my bigger gigs, just after I’d been scouted in the bar I’d been working at. It was a snap of me and the small band I’d worked with once we’d finished our set, the crowd throwing pints up in the air whilst they’d started to crowd the stage. It was a picture I had framed back at the house as well as in a few of my other notebooks. It was something I turned to whenever I felt as though I was failing, or feeling uninspired.

Marshall’s thumb grazed lazily over its corner for a moment before he finally moved to turn the page, eyes instantly taking in the sudden change of pace. This page was scattered; it held a lollipop wrapper in one corner from a song I’d written about well, lollipops and the like, a couple of verses that were upside down and in luminous pink, and then there was another bout of lyrics from a whole different session marked down in dark blue that were written sideways.

“Your mind’s as fucked as mine.”

I snorted at the phrasing but decided to take it as a compliment, “Thanks.”

He shook his head and then started carding his way through the rest of the book, picking out the lyrics he recognised from songs of mine, as well as a few others he liked. It went on like that for a while, the two of us getting consumed in ideas and metaphors, the way we could play with words and shape them into something or other.

An hour or two had to have passed before Marshall started pulling up different beats he’d been working on, explaining the samples used and the many layers that had been mixed in. I found myself liking a handful of them, even going as far as to start a harmony on one that Em appeared to tally down on a page he had laying out nearby.

“So, you gone rap then?”

The question, however off-guard it caught me, was one that had me rolling my eyes, “You gonna sing?” I snarked back, my words sounding almost like a dare.

His tongue darted out to wet his lower lip before they quirked up into a smirk, “I can’t sing. You though, you can spit.”

I shook my head and snorted, pulling the lyrics we’d scrounged up closer to me and purposefully not thinking about the notes I had stored away in my phone.

“Don’t be like that.” Marshall prodded, shifting in his position to nudge me with his elbow, “Jus’ think about it. This could be the time to experiment. You say your label wants something different, something to garner attention on your next record, right? So.. this here, it’s just me and you. No one else. And I’m only gone judge you if you’re really crappy.”

“Oh, and that makes me wanna try so much more!” I enthused, letting my songbook spring back open as I pulled away– the thing honestly had a mind of its own.

Marshall tutted, “Come on.”

I sighed, but did end up looking back over to him. “You’re a dick.”

He raised his eyebrows in retort, then decided to try a new tactic. “Fine, how ‘bout this. You rap something of mine. Then I’ll sing one o’ yours.”

I blinked, unsure if I'd heard him correctly. “You're shitting me.”

Marshall just shook his head, “You in or out?”

My eyes flickered between his, mouth slightly agape. But found I couldn’t turn down the offer. “Alright, but I get to choose what song.”

“For me or you?”

I flashed him a sly grin, “Both.”

He let go of a long breath but ultimately decided that the term was worth it, “Aight, bet.”

And so that was how I got to start rapping Rabbit Run in the middle of Marshall’s home studio, the beat playing throughout the room whilst the man himself watched on from the couch with a slow growing grin on his face.

I got so into it that I ended up working my way through the entirety of the song, bouncing away and playing up to the freedom of it just being the two of us.

“Whoo, go on!” Em hollered loudly once the final lyric had come and the beat had ended, kicking his feet against the floor whilst I laughed and shook my head at the reaction. It was in moments like these that I could often forget that he was marginally one of the biggest rappers of our generation.

When he was like this, all goofy and happy, he was just Em.

“Good now?” I asked around another chuckle, my nose wrinkling as I moved to sag back into my seat, hating how my cheeks had flushed at being the centre of attention as well as his praise.

“Good? Girl, you’re rappin’ on this record even if it kills me!” Marshall stated, blowing a breath out around his grin, the one I’d grown accustomed to only seeing in rare and few moments.

“Fuck off.” I huffed, but even with the harsh words I was still smiling, just sheepish in the face of his applause.

“I’m bein’ for real. You got talent. When you’re up there, you just go for it ‘cause it’s fun. It’s all a joke to you, and you like bein’ in on it. But you’re good.” Marshall told me, having turned in his stance so that he could gesture along to his words, only furthering his point. “You don’t even know it.”

I rolled my eyes and tried to look away, wanting to hide the warmth that failed to leave me as I waved off his words with a hand that he then caught with his own, tugging on my arm until I looked back at him.

“Trust me on this.”

Just hearing those words, I was instantly reminded of the night before. Means a lot that you trust me.

His eyes were so imploring that I couldn’t cope with it, so I smiled and let his fingers slip from my grasp. “This you trying to back out of our deal, Mathers? ‘Cause if I remember rightly, you still owe me a song.“

Marshall shook his head ever so, but let me get away with the change in subject, moving forward so that he could push himself to his feet. I slid closer to his laptop and headed to YouTube quickly to find an instrumental that someone had made of one of my songs. I looked through them all until I grinned and decided on an older work.

“Ready?” I asked over the screen. He simply flipped me off in return, so I huffed around a smirk and pressed play, letting the track croon out of the surrounding speakers.

Good Company was a song I’d written long before I’d gone and gotten signed. It was rough and full of soul, but was easy enough to sing along to if you missed the high runs on the bridge. It juxtaposed the best and worst parts of me, but concentrated on me only ever showing those worse and bitter parts of myself to those I loved most. It wasn’t one the label had liked at first but it grew on you, and though it hadn’t been a chosen single it had actually managed to make it onto the Top Ten when the album had debuted. It was a favourite of mine and to hear Marshall attempt to sing and not butcher it that badly, well, it was sort of like a dream come true.

“Why the fuck do you claim you can’t sing?” I announced the second the song came to a close. Because I honestly had to give it to him, even with the slight laughter he’s started out with, Marshall had truly given it his best. He’d pranced around like a div (which had just told me that he’d seen the music video) and had actually attempted to hit those higher notes that even I sometimes struggled with when playing live.

“‘Cause I can’t.” Marshall scoffed, panting slightly as he fell back onto the couch, fiddling with the rim of his hat whilst he took the spare second to catch his breath.

“Don’t lie! You can. Bit pitchy at times,” He extended his arm out to swat me at that, yet I still continued on, “But you’re good, Marsh! We should harmonise together.”

He rolled his eyes at the very idea, but kept them shut when he pulled his hands up to rest on his stomach. I smiled at the sight.

“Hey, don’t fall asleep on me just yet, old man.” I prompted, “We’ve got work to do.”

Marshall’s foot struck out to kick at my ankle, which was deserving, I supposed. Still, I returned the hit with just enough force to get him up and moving again. He sighed in resignation and then reached for the glasses he had laid out, swivelling his hat round so that he could look over the few sheets we’d complied.

Struck at the sight of him in his wired frames and backwards cap, I had to literally tear my eyes away and down onto the paper I was handed before he could catch me looking. He was none the wiser.

“We’ve got some good shit. But ‘s not enough.” Marshall mentioned after a minute or so of silently debating, his eyes wracking over the sprawled lyrics we’d produced.

I chewed on my lower lip, phone burning a hole in my back pocket. When he sighed once more, I felt the sudden need to just show him the notes and put the idea out there.

Heaving out a breath, I forced the device from my jeans to open up my notes app, flicking past the few that were worthless until I came across one I’d been thinking about since we’d first sat down.

Em chose that moment to glance over at me, eyes somehow bluer behind the lens of his glasses. I swallowed and all but shoved the phone towards him.

He frowned but took it, unable not to, and I watched on in silence as he read it through, then read it though again. His fingers began tapping away on his knee the third time around.

When he looked back up at me, I was surprised by the sudden change his face held, the way his expression had literally lit up. “The fuck you been holdin’ out on me for?” He practically demanded, voice having kicked up a pitch in his eager haste to try and work this into the mix.

I was left blinking back at him, watching as he scribbled a plethora of words and letters onto the page we’d been working on, using arrows and lines to showcase his thinking, how he wanted the song to move. To flow.

I barely had a second to think before he had his own phone out and was dialling away. My eyes widened when the Master of Mixology himself picked up.

“What do you want, Marshall?”

Any other time I would have cackled at the sheer amount of resignation that greeting held, but it seemed as though I was suddenly tongue tied.

“Why you always think I’m doin’ stupid shit?” Marshall shot back at the man, though from where I was sat I could see the slight curve to his lip.

“‘Cause I know you? And you usually are.” Dre answered, blunt and to the point. Very much how I’d pictured him. “So why d’you stop to fuck up my afternoon?”

“It’s afternoon already?” Marshall asked, brow furrowing as he shared a look with me.

“Two pm.” Dre told him with a sigh.

“Shit.” Marshall muttered under his breath, gesturing to me with a hand and an almost pleading look, “Set an alarm for when Z gets in, please?”

“Be easier if you did it, Em. Seeing as I’m in New York and you’re in Detroit.” Dre answered, which earned him a scoff from Marshall.

“Not you.” He told the older man, but I was already on it, swiping out of my notes app so that I could do exactly that.

“The fuck?”

Marshall’s mouth twitched at the disgruntled retort, “With Elia right now, man. We’ve been workin’ on some new shit.”

“El–ee–ah!” Dre called back, really getting into the pronunciation of it. I chuckled softly. “How are you? Is Marshall takin’ good care of you? No troubles, right?”

Grinning, I leaned in closer to Em to be heard. “He’s been a real gent. Holding open doors and basically waiting on me hand and foot.” I teased, earning a side eye from the man himself, “If anything you should be asking him if he’s holding up okay.”

“She got you wrapped round that finger quick!” Dre gruffed out a laugh, the sound loud and joyous even through the phone’s tinny speakers, “It’s what I like to hear.” He added as his laughter ebbed, “Glad things are working out between you both– what’s this about the album then? We got something special?”

Marshall’s tongue darted out over his lip as his eyes flickered over to find me, “I think we hit the jackpot with this one, man. Can already picture it, Dre, like honestly. Shit she’s pulled out has got me feelin’ all nostalgic– it’s good. Too good. Reminds me of some of the stuff they were spittin’ way back before I came around.”

My eyebrows rose a little at his explanation, but I didn’t dare add on or contradict his words. Not that I would, seeing as he was practically spot on with the analysis.

“No shit?” Dre sounded surprised, but I took it in stride when Em shuffled forward on the couch in his haste to read out some of the stuff we had jotted down, as well as the few lyrics I’d just handed him.

The man on the other end of the call hummed in thought when Marshall finally wrapped up his whirlwind of a reply, letting the silence linger between us until I was chewing on the insides of my cheeks once more.

“I’ll Facetime you later once you’ve worked on it some more.” Dre eventually said, halting the tic of Em’s knee, a gesture I only took note of once it had stopped. “It’s promising though. Real promising. Figure we got something here with the pair of you.”

The look Marshall shot me at that had my mind turning to sludge.

–

Alarms always had me spooked, the sound so abrupt and alert that even though I was expecting it, I was never truly expecting it. You know?

Marshall and I had continued to work away, floating ideas back and forth with Dre and then without him once the man eventually got called away. It was slow going, but like Dre himself had said, oh so promising.

Never had I felt so listened to during a writing session. Marshall never failed to give me his full attention even when he was scrawling away or counting a tempo, it was as though he was able to just hone in on every notion I brought up, building on it as he nodded away and pointed to the places he figured we could add it in or just blend.

So by the time that alarm finally rang out, it was safe to say we were making a hell of a lot of progress. So much so that Marshall looked torn once we’d both jumped out of our skin at the sound and I’d hurried to silence it.

His hands fluttered through the many pages we had, as well as my songbook, mouth thinned as his brows dipped together. Rosie would be home in a matter of minutes but he was still spinning with ideas.

I, on the other hand, was all too ready to take a break, head starting to feel heavy with the sheer amount of words it had taken in today. Marshall was a fucking living and breathing thesaurus.

“I can go hang out with her for a bit if you wanna keep on working.” I offered after I’d checked my phone for any recent notifications, noting that the only message I’d received was from Mila. An apology of sorts, letting me know that she’d be willing to wait for me to reach out again.

Em’s frown was palpable. He shook his head, “Can’t ask you to do that.”

I let go of an amused huff, “Good thing you didn’t ask then, I offered.”

His forehead furrowed further whilst he continued to collect the many sheets, I passed him the one I’d been gatekeeping. “Still.” He tried to push, but I just shrugged the word away.

“I could use the break,” I mentioned, reaching for the few empty bottles we’d settled on the floor around our feet, “Might even get a headstart on dinner if you guys aren’t going out.”

Marshall looked a little perplexed at that, “Goin’ out?”

I shrugged again, but smiled when he handed me his latest bottle, piling it into the bin alongside the rest so that I could take it back up the stairs with me. “I don’t know what plans you have!” I laughed lightly.

He ended up rolling his eyes at that, “If I did they’d include you, idiot. Wasn’t plannin’ on goin’ out though.” He retorted, before pausing and glancing over to me, “Why, did you want to?”

Honestly, he was hard work. I could only huff out another round of chuckles as I shook my head at him, “No, you’re all good. Like I said, I could get started on dinner.”

The expression he pulled then looked almost strained, as though he wasn’t used to being offered help, much less willing to accept it. But I could tell that he wanted to. He was on a roll here and it was obvious that he was desperate to keep ahold of that inspiration for as long as it would last.

I stopped with what I was doing to step closer again, hoping to reassure him somewhat. “I wouldn’t offer, if I minded.” I told him gently, “Just pray that I don’t poison the lot of us or burn the house down if I do start cooking though.”

He laughed a little at that, face softening at my words. It still took him another minute or so to finally agree, dipping his head ever so slightly in the most minute version of a nod, “You’ll call out if you need me?”

I raised a brow, “What, into your soundproof studio?”

He breathed out another chuckle, tongue pushing against his teeth as his hands fell limply between his knees, papers shuffling ever so. “Call me, call me. Or just use the intercom.”

“Yeah, not happening.” I quickly quipped, eyeing the so called intercom with obvious distaste, “I’ll call. I don’t know the first thing about how to work that.”

Marshall’s smug smirk was evident when I glanced back over at him, enough so that I could only flip him off as I moved to leave the room, muttering under my breath about being too kind to idiots, something that only proved to humour him further.

“‘Preciate it!” He called out just before the door could close behind me.

It had me smiling all the same.

92 notes · View notes

thatwritterbeach · 2 months ago

Text

one messed up bat .4

Dc masterlist

Batfam x reader x Jason eventually

Summary: The batboys sticking close to y/n

Warnings: self harm, self hate, angst, short sorry

A/N: I do not own dc

"Let's take a little trip around the room and you can tell me where all the sharp things are, or, you can be moved to an unused room and only come in here with supervision," Dick said with his hands on his hips.

"It'd be faster to move rooms, after all I have vigilante stuff in here too."

"I was afraid you'd say that, alright well, grab your pillow and anything else you need. Phone charger or whatever. I'm gonna lock the door when you're done and I will have to let you in-"

"This is ridiculous all my games and books and stuff are in here, not to mention my sewing supplies." (because I said so you now know how to sew, Y/n designs leather goods, handbags, fancy wallets etc. and has dreams of people actually knowing they exist)

"I didn't know you sewed," Tim said looking up from his phone to take in her room.

"I've had a machine sitting in the corner for years now, I thought you were supposed to be smart," she said walking over just so she could flick his ear.

"Hey, ow, I thought it was just girly decoration?"

"I suppose to giant shelf of supplies next to it is also decor," she asked with her head tilted.

"Sewing shears are sharp as hell, no way are you allowed around them without somebody's eyes glued to you," Jason said holding a pair of Italian knifes edge shears.

"Hey put those down they were three-hundred-bucks!" He nearly dropped them at her shout but caught them and set them gently back in their case.

"For scissors," Dick asked in disbelief.

"They could cut your arm off. They're Italian and I love them more than I love any of you."

"You're sleeping in a different room but you can be in her during the day, with one of us here."

She rolled her eyes but kept her mouth shut, whatever he needed to tell himself but she knew how this was gonna go. They'd say they were gonna take shifts, but stuff would come up, they would get bored. Tired of following her to the bathroom and sitting outside awkwardly. She'd be a good little pet, keep her skin clear of even a bruise from bumping into something and they would get complacent and lazy, checking up on her once a day. She gave it two weeks before they were leaving her alone again, and a month before they couldn't be under the same roof anymore and she only had to deal with Tim, easy the kid slept and drank coffee, and Damian who she could distract.

"Fine, anyone up for a snack?"

They nodded and she led the way to the kitchen, it was well into the night so it was dark aside from a few motion sensor lights she'd put in herself. (after the boys had said every curse word under the sun from bumping into stuff) She pulled out some chips and the other grabs various foods and drinks.

"We eating in here or you wanna go watch a movie?"

"Movie,"Tim answered starting to pour himself a cup of coffee.

"If you drink that at this hour-in fact if you drink any caffeine after four pm I'll start breaking picture frames to cut myself with the glass," she said snatching the cup from him and dumping it down the drain.

"Oh my God," Dick gasped dropping the bag of popcorn he'd just taken from the microwave.

"But...my coffee," Tim whispered looking at the drain like she'd just flushed his stash.

"Me no slashy you no caffey," she said pulling him into a hug. His arms came around her quickly and held her to him tight enough to make her back crack but neither of them moved. Her eyes welled with tears from the comfort and she tried to pull away but he held on.

"If you don't let me go I'm gonna cry," she warned.

"Go for it, you deserve it."

"If I start I won't stop."

"Oh, Y/n," Jason and Dick said in unison putting down their loot to add their arms to the hug. She was fully surrounded, encased in shear muscle, Tim's arms around her ribs and hands on her back. Dick's arms on top of his more hugging Tim than her but it was fine. Jason's arms were circled completely around her waist and they all took turns placing kisses on her hair. The need to cry and the urge to get away battled inside her but the only way out was teleportation.

"We love you," Dick said finally backing off.

"I second that," Jason said also stepping away.

"Thirdsies," Tim said stepping back to grab her face in his hands. "If you don't want me to drink coffee I won't drink it."

"Nice try, I said caffeine, energy drinks and tea included."

"Damn."

The moment passed they all grabbed their stuff again and headed to the theater room. A half hour into the movie she was the only one awake and she rolled her eye at the predictability, she started to sneak out of the room but Damian came in and snuggled up on her lap in the reclining seat she was in. (picture the Lego Batman seats the red velvet cushy looking ones)

"Tt, so pathetic they couldn't even be trusted to watch you for one night. He was so cute in his little batman pajamas she couldn't help but laugh at him squishing his face in her hands.

"Good thing I have you to look after me then huh?" He batted her hands away like and angry cat and grabbed the remote to change the tv, putting on old cartoon reruns instead. Dick was snoring like a freight train and she felt guilty for keeping him up so late, poor guy hadn't slept since birth. Tim was talking in his sleep something about mergers and 'no you can't sit there you little twat' he watched way too much British tv. Jason was silent and still as the dead next to her on hand stretched out in her direction as if he was offering her a lifeline even in his sleep.

@stormz369 sorry love forgot 😘

9-28-24

#batfam #batman #dc comics #dick grayson #jason todd #bruce wayne #dc universe #dcu #angst #jason todd x you #jason todd x oc #jason todd x ofc #jason todd x reader #depressiv #depressing shit #tw eating issues #eating disoder trigger warning #tw selfhate #self h@rm

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cosmolog · 1 year ago

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Miguel's Secret

Miles and Gwen venture into a large storage room in the spider society, finding secrets long hidden from the rest of the society by Miguel.

Enjoy!

"We shouldn't be back here. I already made a bad first impression with Miguel back there and now he's gonna want to actually kill me. Who knows? Maybe he'll throw a chair at me next time instead of food-"

"Shh" Gwen silenced him, before glancing around and shining her phone light on the various boxes that had been discarded in the room.

Her light settled on the end of the room, where a curtain had been hung from the ceiling and drawn closed, as if to hide something. She started walking towards it, only for Miles to catch a grip of her wrist.

"Miles, let go" She huffed in annoyance at her friend's protectiveness.

"What if it's something you really don't want to see?" He said, looking concerned.

"It won't be. It'll probably just be some more boxes. I wanna check though." She replied. Miles' eyes flickered between the white curtain sheet and Gwen before he sighed deeply and let go of her. He remained close behind her as she advanced to the curtains.

Gwen took a deep breath, held it, then pulled the curtain back, revealing a woman lying down on an examination table. Upon further inspection, the two realised she wasn't a human but a very realistic-looking robot, judging by the red ring on the side of her head.

Miles let out a profanity while Gwen gasped in freight. "Okay, not a dead body but still just as creepy" He whispered.

Gwen stepped closer to the robot, pressing the red ring which changed to blue, and the robot woke up...

(Switch to first person)

My eyes gently opened at the sound of voices. Two young voices, one male, one female. Both sounded scared. I slowly moved my head in their direction. I looked between the two teens, not recognising their faces. I gently sat up, after not moving in so long, I felt stiff. By now, the teenagers were less scared and more defensive.

"And who are you supposed to be?" The boy asked.

I gave him a kind and gentle smile. "I am Y/n. And you?"

"Miles"

"Gwen" The girl added.

I got off the table and looked around the dark area. "Where...where am I?"

Gwen and Miles looked at each other to exchange looks only they understood. Gwen answered me.

"You're in the Spider Society's basement, or should I say the storage room"

I grew sad. Where was I locked inside the storage room. And then the last moments of my last encounter of seeing light came back to me. I could still remember every detail of his face, my creator, Miguel O'Hara. "Miguel..." I whispered to myself, but Gwen and Miles heard me.

"You know Miguel?" Gwen asked.

"Why, of course. I was his Ai after all" I smiled sadly.

"A second Ai of Miguel's?" Miles tilted his head.

"I was Miguel's first Ai assistant, just before he made Lyla. The only reason he never mentions me is because I had a defect. Or, at least, that's what he called it. Miguel had programmed me to do a number of things, which involved making him breakfast and helping him with his work. He had made me a physical body, which looked so human sometimes it even tricked him. I would end up having to remind him I wasn't a real person." I sighed and looked down at my hands as I continued.

"My defect seemed to be a certain emotion. The first time I had ever displayed it, was the last because Miguel immediately stopped me and told me to sit down in the examination chair so he could check everything was alright. He told me to close my eyes and now I'm here. It seems he had shut me down for a while. Ever since I've been shut down, I've been searching for a reason as to why he would shut me down but-"

"He thought you fell in love with him" Gwen stated.

I looked up at her surprised. "What?" I whispered.

"You loved him, didn't you?" Gwen pressed.

"Gwen, I don't think you should be nailing her with questions like this" Miles said, looking worried.

"No, we need to know"

"We really don't"

"You love him" Gwen ignored Miles, stepping closer to me causing me to step back.

"I.."

"Gwen, stop it"

"Your hesitation just confirms it. You fell in love and he killed you for it" Gwen stated.

"Gwen!" Miles scolded, not believing she had just said that.

I looked down solemnly. "Death is never our own decision" I said.

"You poor AI" Gwen sighed, turning to Miles. "Does Miguel know she's awake?"

"Let's hope not."

Part Two

#femalereader #xreader #marvelxreader #miguel o'hara x reader #atsv miguel #atsv #miles morales #gwen stacy #into the spider verse #spider gwen #lyla spiderverse #short

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mattheosgyat · 9 months ago

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Cat Distribution System

⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊☽ ◯ ☾₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊☽ ◯ ☾₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆

Contents: Major fluff, cute kitty, Benjamin Wadsworth fan cast as Mattheo Riddle, Hogwarts, fun fun fun

Important Info: You are a Ravenclaw that lives at Hogwarts, your character is named Rory. U little cat mom.

┍━━━━━━━━━━━☽【❖】☾━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━┑

┕━━━━━━━━━━━☽【❖】☾━━━━━━━━━━━━━━┙

It was around 8pm, about the time I calm down for the night. I'd much rather be watching tv by myself in the peace of my bed rather than entertain bimbos all day and night. My room was dimly lit, the brightness flashing away every now and then as South Park distracted my attention. I felt nothing but peace in the moment, well, until something brushed against my hand..

If the loud smack of my hand against the wall didn't alert my neighbor that a monster was coming to take me, my scream sure did. I jumped out of bed, immediately putting my back to the wall because of a stupid superstition. But just then did I realize it was a cat. I reached my hand out and slowly started petting it, trying to find a collar, but nothing. I uploaded a picture of it to the school profile before laying back down, playing around with the grey cat. It looked like about a 3-5 year old cat, pretty lazy but playful nonetheless. In about 5 minutes, a text rang through my phone. I'm never one to keep up with messages, it being no different this time. I brushed off the first 3 or so messages, finally checking after getting annoyed

Maybe: Mattheo Riddle

Hey, why's my cat on your bed?

Because there's no way she just snuck into your closed dorm..

I want her back tonight.

Great, an asshole to come ruin my night

Maybe: Mattheo Riddle

My air lock is broke and my roommate is out to pick up food, so I kept the door cracked

My dorm is Ravenclaw, 3rd floor, room 312, you are more than welcome to come pick her up

I'm not coming to your dorm when you took my cat

Read 3m ago

I set my phone down, done with what I needed to say. Get the cat or not, I'm fine either way. I slipped on a hoodless sweatshirt over my sports bra, just incase the guy does actually end up showing up. Mattheo Riddle, Mattheo Riddle, Mattheo Riddle, the name didn't ring a bell. Not in any of my classes I'm pretty sure, and Ravenclaws stay out of other houses business. He must be a bit careless if his cat is wandering around Ravenclaw dorms, but maybe the guy had a tough day or something.

I didn't even hear a knock or a door creak, just my bedroom door swing open. A fairly sized man stood at my doorway. He had a long sleeved plain dark blue shirt on and blue plaid pajama pants, his strings untied and his waistband crooked on his hips. He had dark brown curly hair, matching his dark black eyes. He looked like he was ready to be in for the night too, obviously annoyed by having to be here. His eyes studied my face as he stayed silent, his arms crossed and his fingers tapping in order on his arm. It was almost like he was judging me; reading into every good and bad thing about me.

"I have a busy night wheres Birdie?" He muttered, pissed off that I didn't read his mind apparently. His cat was tucked against my stomach, curled against my legs as I laid on my side. I moved my legs down, showing him where his cat was since he couldn't see past my legs in the blanket.

"Birdie? Odd name for a cat. Doesn't look like you have anything planned." I said as i scanned his clothes and messy hair. His plans included scrolling on his phone, watching tv, and sleeping.

He scoffed and rolled his eyes, reluctantly walking over to wrap his hands around his sleeping cat, lifting her against his chest. He backed up quickly, trying not to invade my personal space as he headed back to my bedroom door.

He nodded as a 'Thank you' and walked out of my apartment with his cat back. I heard my front door shut and immediately jumped up and ran to it. Fuck, I'm locked in. I grabbed my phone and had no time to text, immediately facetiming the Mattheo guy. He couldn't have gotten too far. He answered the phone with a confused face, still walking down the hall.

"Hey so sorry to bother, do you have your credit card with you by chance?" I asked quickly, not waisting any time. My face was close to the phone, not giving a care in the world what I looked like. His eyebrows scrunched up even more, a confused laugh coming out of his mouth slightly.

"What crazy cat girl?" he said as he stopped walking, waiting for me to explain further. That probably did sound confusing and not what I meant at all, I should've thought about that first.

"My door, it's broken and when it shuts it jams. Do you have your card with you? And it's Rory." I explain, rolling my eyes at the last part. With a small chuckle he hung up the phone, a card flying under my door about a minute later.

"If you steal it I'll release Birdie on you. She does some serious damage" he raised his voice over the door, joking with me. I giggled a little to myself as i stuck the card through the latch trying to open the door. It took about 7 tries, but it finally stuttered open. When it opened, I saw Mattheo sitting on the hallway floor against the wall, his cat sleeping in his lap as he pet her slowly, glancing up at me when the door swings open finally. I handed his card back with a smile, doing a dramatic pose when i opened the door.

"I'll give you your card ifffff you let me see Birdie again next week" I say with a stupid little smile on my face, looking down at the cute kitty asleep in his lap. He rolled his eyes and snatched the card out of my hand, standing up with the cat held against his chest again.

"And I'll definitely need to re-discuss this with you over text!" he mocked, walking away from me. He took a couple steps backwards and kept his eyes on mine before he turned around, heading out of the dorms and the Ravenclaw common room. He's not even a Ravenclaw? How the hell did his cat get into my dorm...

I'll make a part two if this does good!! This is my first Tumblr post and my first time writing so I hope this isn't too bad!

#mattheo riddle #mattheo x you #mattheo x y/n #mattheoxreader #fanfiction #marauders #harry potter #golden trio era

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sooguru · 5 months ago

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AVIDITY

©sooguru

[⌗synopsis ⸝⸝ 𝜗𝜚] suguru’s advances play as an escape from the violent advances of your deranged husband.

[⌗cw ⸝⸝ 𝜗𝜚] DARK CONTENT - cheating husband toji , violence (domestic abuse) , slow burn - ish.

chapter 01

─── ⋆⋅𝜗𝜚 MY nails clawed at my husband’s arms, tears pouring profusely from my bloodshot eyes, the breath leaving my lungs quickly as i fought against his grip on my neck. both hands threatening to snap it at any second.

“stupid fucking whore.”

the putrid scent of alcohol wafted from his large body, abusing my senses. tilting my head away, only to have my neck gripped tighter as a sick punishment. he didn’t even know why he was angry at me. i guess seeing me was enough to set him off.

maybe i should just go. how peaceful would that be?

spots filled my vision, about to pass out, my body refusing to take in oxygen with the way he gripped my neck. he only let go seconds before i thought i’d die for sure. my body dropped to the floor, weak as i heaved, my lungs desperately taking in as much oxygen as it could. i stayed on the ground, sobbing quietly as he grumbled, heading upstairs.

once i could breathe properly again, i didn’t bother lingering. i grabbed my phone, opening the camera to look at my neck. nasty bedsides decorated the soft flesh, a clear cause of concern. i teared up again at the sight, swallowing them back down, not wanting to irritate the man upstairs.

i grabbed a scarf, wrapping it around my neck even though it was the beginning of summer. i left quickly, taking my car to the nearest motel, asking for a room for the night. i knew that man would be gone by the morning so i would be able to return and get ready for work. as i walked my room, i glanced to the right of me, in the distance i could've sworn i saw suguru.

when i blinked, he wasn’t there. was he on my mind that much? i blushed at the thought of him. the way he looked at me, it made me feel like i was the most important person in the world. although, a thought like that is rather dangerous. i shouldn’t get ahead of myself.

i got comfortable in my motel room, freshening up before locking the door and getting in bed, sighing as i laid on my back, rubbing at my sore neck. i glanced at the large window by the door, the curtains shut, a slight crack in them. my heart stopped, eyes widening as i gasped, backing up on my bed. a large figure was visibly standing there. all i could see was their eyes. it wasn’t like they were “trying” to peep. they just stood there. once they noticed they had been spotted, noticing a frightened look on my face as i fumbled with my phone, shakily ready to dial 911 - they simply walked away, heavy footsteps fading into the distance, my heart still thumping against my chest.

i didn’t know if dialing 911 would be useful now, so instead i called the front desk and reported the issue. they sent security to my door to keep watch during the night. i didn’t have the best sleep but at least i was able to sleep.

the next morning, i was back in my house, freshly showered, busy picking what clothes to wear. after work, our group was going for food and drinks after because it was nanami's birthday. i picked up a turtle neck and a pencil skirt. using my handy makeup brush, i applied some makeup to my neck, trying my best to conceal the evidence of an ugly mess of a marriage.

putting on my clothes, the turtle neck and the makeup doing a good job of concealing my marks. i put my stockings on, my pencil skirt clinging to my curves as i shimmied on, my round plump ass looking well defined in the material. i passed by the window, the warm hue of the sun making me soft brown skin glow. i sighed softly, putting some lip gloss on as i tied my soft boho locs up into a bun, the curly strands of human hair fell from the bun here and there. i tried to look as put together as possible even if i felt the complete opposite.

i eventually got to work, thankful for the lack of traffic. my heels clicked against the ground as i entered the office, everyone happily greeting me. i plastered a smile on my face, trying to make it look as genuine as possible as i said good morning to everyone. i noticed suguru coming out from his desk, his tall frame imposing and large as he gives me a slow wave, eyeing me with a smile. as everyone dispersed, i walked up to him, wanting to personally greet him.

“good morning suguru”

i hummed, my eyes meeting his. i watched him curiously, noticing his eyes drift to my neck, his perfect brow cocking up before looking back into my eyes. before he could say anything, i cut him off.

“i’ll see you later at the restaurant.”

with that, i quickly walked over to my desk, my heart racing slightly. time went quickly after that. i soon found myself stuck in suguru’s car. he insisted on driving me to the destination since we left work at the same time.

“are you sure you should be out so late? won't your husband be worried?”

though his words reflected concern, his voice seemed to betray the opposite. a slight tinge of glee tainting his words. i sighed softly, looking out of the window.

“he doesn’t mind”

i mumbled, turning to look at him. geto hummed, not pressing on with the matter. minutes later, the car stopped in front of the restaurant. turning to look at me, suguru spoke.

“we’re here.”

he got out of the car, moving to the other side as he opened my door for me, taking my hand as he helped me out, causing a faint blush to dust my cheeks.

“thank you suguru”

“of course”

my slight flush only got worse at the sound of his silky smooth voice, sending a tingle down my spine. once we walked inside, everyone was already sitting down, chatting up a storm. me and suguru sat besides each other in a booth seat. our knees touching, while his hands rested neatly on his lap. as the night passed, the sake started affecting me. my cheeks warming as my movements became uncoordinated. others left for the night, already drunk. everyone there had consumed some sort of alcohol except from nanami and suguru. we had gotten a hotpot with our own different bits and bobs, the sweet savory scent of the broth made my mouth practically water.

i dipped my ramen into the aromatic broth, my attention being pulled to suguru as he tilted my head to the side with his finger, his chopsticks holding a piece of meat in front of my mouth.

“try this.”

he said softly, his eyes boring into mine as his finger captured my chin, tilting my head up, his thumb tugging at my bottom lip slowly. smiling, i parted my lips, my body feeling hot as i ate the meat, sucking the juices from the wooden sticks.

however, he didn’t pull away as i chewed. instead, he stuck the chopsticks i had just sucked from, straight into his mouth. my cheeks flushed, unsure on what he was doing. the sight feeling almost erotic in a sense. i glanced at the others, only to see that none of them were paying attention to us.

“how does it taste?”

his breath grazed my ear, his cologne filling my senses in a way that made me lose my mind. he took my chopsticks from my frozen hands, placing my ramen noodles in my bowl. i could barely comprehend his words; still busy being lost in him.

“mmh..good”

i said softly, our eyes locking. something dark passed in his eyes. possessive almost. but i ignored it, shaking off whatever that trance was. digging into my food, my cheeks flushed red, and it wasn’t from the alcohol. dirty fantasies crossed my mind, no matter how hard i tried to rid them from my thoughts.

i shifted closer to suguru, our thighs now pressing together. i ate my noodles, talking with the others as i enjoyed my meal, almost forgetting about the troubles awaiting me at home.

almost.

i flinched at a sudden touch on my shoulder, turning to look at who it was. suguru tilted his head to the side, watching me.

“you okay?”

i nodded, giving him a soft smile, his eyes boring into mine before they glanced at my lips. staring at them for a good few seconds before looking away.

“i should get you home. we wouldn’t want your husband getting worried now would we.”

i sighed, putting on a fake smile as i agreed, saying goodbye to everyone, walking in front of suguru as i walked to his car, stumbling slightly, a little more intoxicated than i originally thought.

“easy there doll.”

the nickname sent a rush of blood to my face, feeling faint as his arm wrapped around my waist, pulling me to him, keeping me steady as we got to his car. he helped me sit down, getting in after me before leaning over, helping me put my seatbelt on, his face inches from mine. he leaned closer, glancing at my lips before looking back into my eyes, his finger tracing my jawline, his touch slow and gentle.

"all done pretty girl."

#sooguru #geto x black y/n #geto fanfic #geto x black reader #geto smut #jujutsu geto #jjk geto #geto suguru

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juiles · 2 years ago

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Overwhelmed

Summary: y/n, Scarlett’s autistic adult daughter has an overwhelming weekend which leads into a meltdown.

Triggers: autistic meltdown

Type: hurt/comfort

A/N: in no way do I know how all autistic people struggle but i wrote this based on my experience and how i feel while overstimulated.

Masterlist here!

Requests here!

———————————————————————

This had been the worst 3 days ever in existence. Well maybe not ever but for me it’s been really rough. I had meeting after meeting on saturday with different people for work. Sunday I had a family thing, being in a church for 2 hours then interacting with said family for a 3 hour dinner. Today I had to run errands for my mum which meant more people.

I don’t do well with people, being in groups is really hard for me and keeping my mask up for the long hours is exhausting. My mom is pretty good at keeping up with me and knowing when i need to stop but she was really busy this week and being an adult it meant i had to do all this on my own. She also had to deal with the kids this weekend on her own since Colin had to film.

After doing some chores around the house I finally closed myself off in my bedroom, locking the door, turning my lights off, unplugging everything and wrapping myself up in my weighted blanket in my sensory swing with my airpods on playing very soft white noise. I sat there for what i thought was only an hour or so however when I finally felt a little calmer and I emerged from my room, mom and both kids were back and instantly could feel my senses overloading again.

I flinched when Rose collided with my legs screaming. I covered my ears quickly and shut my eyes but my hands were quickly pulled off and my mom was talking to me.

“Y/n. Go deal with Cosmo and dinner for me? You’ve been cooped up in your room all day for no reason.”

I went to open my mouth to talk to her but she cut me off immediately. “No i said go.”

I instantly shut down, nodding my head and running downstairs to do as asked. I pulled Cosmo into my arms and he slowly settled down as I stirred up the dinner before placing it in the oven. Colin shoved the door open creating a loud bang making me flinch again. Cosmo started crying again and buried into me. Mom came back down with a babbling Rose who she instantly handed over to me. I went into the living room and placed them both down and they instantly started playing with their toys. My hand twitched, my tics starting up.

“Mom…” I murmured towards my moth who sat down beside me. I covered my ears with my hands again and started to rock myself slightly. “Mama…”

I felt a hand touch my arm and before I could even think about it, my body flinched back and a scream ripped from my throat as I pulled myself away. “No!!” Tears welled up and my hands started curling around my hair pulling slightly. My chest felt restricted and suddenly the clothes i was wearing felt like fire on my skin, the couch was too rough, my socks weren’t on right and my hair was rubbing in my face to much.

The lights in the living room were still to bright behind my shut eyes, the noises of my moms voice and the kids crying were way to much. My moms hand on my shoulder felt like a weight pulling me down and my body felt like it wanted to fight nothing.

It was like my whole world went dark all of a sudden and I couldn’t breath.

Scarlett’s pov

Placing my hand on my daughters shoulder then hearing her scream scared the shit out of me but seeing her curl up into a ball screaming no scared me even more. I haven’t seen her have a full meltdown like this in years. I took a second to think about what could have caused it then I realized her weekend. It was full of people and meetings. She had even tried to warn me before but I was too sidetracked to hear her.

“Colin, take the littles upstairs and put a movie on in our room. Grab her weighted blanket, airpods and phone from her room and bring them down before going back to the kids.” I quickly barked out making Colin snap into action and he snatched the two little ones before running upstairs.

I turned to my eldest and despite her screams to not touch her I pulled her hair up into a messy bun and pulled the sweater she had around her shoulders off throwing it off to the side. I felt her stuff be put on my lap and I quickly pulled her blanket around her tightly before placing her airpods in her ears playing the white noise. I quickly unplugged everything in the room and turned off the lights. I pulled the blackout curtains down and closed the door to the living room.

I sat back against the coffee table, within arms reach of her but not touching her. She slowly stopped screaming and quickly it was only small sobs leaving her mouth.

Y/N pov

I could feel my hair being pulled back and despite my best efforts the hands wouldn’t go away. The sweater that made me want to rip my skin off is taken off of me. A weight was placed on my shoulders and my ears had a pressure on them before i could hear the white noise. I could hear someone shuffling around before silence as i felt my body start to settle. The only thing I was missing was more pressure. I needed more pressure on my body.

My hands reached out forward hoping someone was near and to my luck my favourite pair of hands grabbed on to mine softly and squeezed them gently. I shuffled around with my ears pulling my airpods out but kept my eyes squeezed shut.

“My love. I’m going to ask you a few yes or no questions. One squeeze is yes two is no. Do you hear me?” I could hear the tears in my moms voice and i squeezed her hands once. “Ok baby. Are you breathing normally?” I squeezed once. “Okay. Is it to loud in here?” I paused for a moment and listened around before squeezing twice. “Is it too bright?” I opened my eyes slowly and blinked looking around the dark room before meeting with matching green eyes. I squeeze twice and she nods softly. “Do you need more pressure?” Quickly I squeezed once and before i could do anything my mom wrapped her arms around me and pulled me down to her lap where she squeezed me tight. “I’ve got you princess.”

After a while my heart finally settled and I could breath normally again so I pulled back and looked at my mom. She sent me a soft smile and reached her hand out pausing before i nodded and she cupped my cheek with her hand softly. “I’m sorry. I know how overwhelming this weekend was for you and I put you into a very stimulating place. I have a few more questions okay?”

I nodded shyly and started snapping the elastic on my wrist before mom replaced it with a fidget toys. “Are you verbal?” I shook my head quickly and hit my lip. “That’s okay sweetheart. Are you hungry?” The idea of eating made me super nauseous so I shook my head quickly. “Okay. Thirsty?” I nodded before even thinking about it and let a small smile out. “You are so cute baby. Okay two last questions for now. Do you want some music on or (insert comfort show here) on in the background?” I pulled my hands away for a moment before signing TV for my mom. “Colin wants to check in you. He already took the kids to grandmas. Do you want him in here or not?” I signed dad and she smiled softly. “Okay princess.”

I saw her grab her phone and my head buried into her neck as I took a deep breath.

Scarlett’s pov

I pulled her closer as I sent a text off to Colin to come home and bring her favourite snacks for later and drinks. I slipped my phone on to the coffee table and grabbed the remote before turning the tv on and putting her comfort show on.

“I love you y/n.” I muttered into her hair as her head turned slightly to look at the tv. 10 minutes later we heard Colin’s car pull up and as quietly as possible he made his way into the living room.

“Hi princess.” He murmured as he settled down beside y/n but not close enough to be touching her as sometimes she can’t handle the contact with other people. “I brought some strawberry lemonade.” He handed it to her gently and before he could pull his arm away she attached to it and pulled him closer indicating she wants him to hold her as well.

The grin on his face made me smile brightly and cover her head in kisses drawing out her quiet giggle which made my heart flutter. I placed my head on hers and smiled softly as the three of us watched the tv.

#marvel imagine #avengers imagine #mcu imagine #scarlett johansson x kid!reader #scarlett johansson x you #scarlett johansson x platonic!reader #scarlett johansson x teen!reader #scarlett johansson x child!reader #scarlett johansson fluff #scarlett johansson x autistic!reader #scarlett johansson x daughter!reader

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the-fiction-witch · 1 year ago

Text

Seventeen P1-4

Media The Maze Runner AU

Character Newt

Couple Newt X Reader

Rating Sweet AF

Seventeen Series

I heard my alarm blaring so I sighed and forced my body up out of my grey sheets onto the cold wooden floor, I rubbed my face a good few times trying to get my head on straight. I grabbed my phone from the side turning off my alarm.

September 14th 6.02

I pushed myself up taking my phone and the speaker hung on my wardrobe door with me as I headed out of my bedroom down the corridor and into the cold bathroom. I shut and locked the door setting my phone up to play my music and turning the shower on letting it warm up, I grabbed my toothbrush squirting the paste onto the bristles and starting to clean. I tried desperately to get my head on straight given it was still dark outside and I maybe for three hours of sleep, brushing my teeth while the shower heated up. Once it was warm enough I finished with my toothbrush and stripped off jumping in the shower already hearing banging on the bathroom door I merely ignored her letting the heat of the water wash away my troubles turning up my speaker to drown her out as I scrubbed and rubbed suds across myself. Even if immediately I noticed the heat had made my dick perk up but I ignored it.

"Uuuughhhhh! Newt!" She yelled but I just scrubbed away listening to my music "Newt! Get out!" She yelled banging on the door hard

"Shut up" I sighed trying to enjoy my shower

"Mum! Newt's hogging the shower again!"

"I've told you, kids, a hundred times you each get ten minutes, you think water grows on trees? I don't wanna have to get a timer in there but I'm thinking about it!" She yelled from downstairs in the kitchen

"I just got in here!" I argued

"Isaac, Don't argue with your mother, Finish your shower now and give it to your sister" My dad Yelled from their bedroom

I sighed and finished up with my shower making sure to grab all the towels as I left, leaving none for her and making sure to leave the bathmat damp, I grabbed my stuff and headed out and as I opened the door she was waiting, tapping her foot. Wearing her pink and white stripped PJ's her hair in the weird plush roller things to keep her curls tight as she slept, and gold gel things on under her eyes and pink fluffy slippers,

Soyna Newton, My little sister likely the most annoying person I know, She used to just be the little glitter-dropping princess freak who got on my nerves now she had become a busybody flag girl with dreams of grandeur, Needless to say, we didn't much get along.

She stuck her tongue out at me so I did it back, she then swore at me so as I headed down the corridor to my own room I put my middle finger up at her and she did it back, we kept one-upping each other so we know stood with me outside my bedroom and her in the bathroom violently but silently swearing at each other until our mum came up the stairs standing between us and gave us both a look so Sonya sheepishly went into the bathroom and I sheepishly went to my room.

I got dry and dressed into my Converses, my brown cargo pants, my bright orange portal t-shirt and my white hoodie over the top, I shoved everything I needed for today off my desk and into my leather messenger bag and I headed downstairs hearing the shower still running. I arrived in the kitchen seeing orange juice and toast on the table for breakfast my dad sat with his paper and my mum was loading the dishwasher

"Sonya's still in the bathroom," I told her

"Don't be a tattletale Isaac" She laughs "Besides your sister takes longer in there since her bedroom mirror broke"

"So if I start curling my hair and doing makeup I can get an extra twenty minutes in the bathroom?"

"Will you too ever stop arguing?" My dad laughs

"No" I answered grabbing some toast "Right on off to the bus, by mum, by dad" I smiled giving my mum a kiss and my dad a hug

"Have a good day Isaac" my mum laughs

"I wanna see that physics paper when you get home" my dad reminded me

"I know," I told them before I headed out to the front stoop where I hid from the rain waiting for the bus, Soon enough Sonya joined me in her little pink dress. "You're gonna get dress-coded for that you know"

"Can for five minutes you just not open your mouth?" She says heading out from the stoop

"Where are you going?"

"Walking to Alexandra's"

"Why?"

"So the bus picks me up there"

"...why?"

"So people on our bus route don't know you're my brother," she says as she heads down the street towards Alexandra's house she lives only a few doors down,

"We have the same last name you can't hide our sibling relationship forever" I yelled to her, so I just put my headphones in and waited Soon enough the bus arrived so I climbed on and as usual sat in an empty seat listening to my music.

We picked up Sonya and Alexandra they, of course, avoided me like they didn't know me and we headed to school picking up everyone on the way, before finally arriving at the school I waited to be the last off so I didn't have to fight the wave of people climbing off and heading inside the large brick building trying to just get on, I glanced around the corridors to these people I've known my whole life noticing just how fucked we all are and how far we had strayed from the sweet innocence of the playground.

I reached my locker and dumped stuff inside gathering up what I would actually need for today or at least for this morning and leaving anything I didn't where I stood checking my schedule for the day grabbing the books and folders I would need for my first couple of classes, taking out my headphones and turning off my music as to not get caught using them.

"Hey newt," Thomas smiled as he came to his own locker just beside my own, dressed for the day in his black Nike's a pair of dark grey pants, a light blue shirt with some logo on I didn't know and a denim jacket over it, his backpack over his shoulder

Thomas Stephenson, moved to town over the summer and of course, was still branded as 'the new kid' We met up a few times over the summer and when I found out he was coming here for school I let him tag along with me till he got used to the place, you could say we had become friendly. He was a nice guy, on the debate team, in drama club working his way up the high school ranks.

"Hey, Tommy,"

"So you have it?" He asks

"Have what?"

"The answers to the quiz in biology?"

"I might" I answered "You know I don't do drop off till two, second-floor haunted bathroom"

"Come on man I need the answers before then, I've got the class third period and I was up all night with Teresa so I didn't study"

"Well supply and demand"

He rolled his eyes and opened his denim jacket grabbing five bucks held up and sneakily offered it to me I checked over my shoulder and snatched it off him putting it in my pocket and grabbing him the answers from the folder in my locker which I handed over

"Thanks, newt,"

"Thank you" I smirked putting the cash in my pocket and shutting up my locker it was then I noticed him staring "What?" I asked turning around and I saw them.

The south side doors opened and in came, They all wore their uniform the little white platform sneakers, knee-high Light blue socks with a white stripe around the top, light blue pleated skirts most barely even reaching their thighs the insides of the pleats white, a small non-sleeve shirt in the same light blue with two white stripes making a point across their chest, and the school team logo. all of them have their bags and their hair in various styles mostly up in some form or another, They seemed to move as one in this slow-motion walk as if this corridor was New York Fashion Week.

Of course, everyone got out of their way, like royals dividing sea of peasants with their meer presence

The cheer team, Lisa Danbury, Destiny Rochester, Beth Smith, Misty Hamlen, Lana Vine, Jodie Crusher, Alexandra Bolton, and Katie Peterson, not to be rude to them but they all kind of blended together mostly due to the fact the group was rarely seen separated leaving them to blend into this wave of blue, white and platinum blonde, of course, they all had personalities but the air of them merely being the cheer squad was pretty much all anyone really knew.

With two exceptions, Namely

At the top of the scale, is the queen bee, the all-mighty. Teresa Agnes.

She stood at the front of her pack her sneakers on a higher platform than the other girls, her uniform the same but she had a leather jacket over her shoulders, black cat eye sunglasses blocking out her expression, her lips around the white and red straw that reached into the clear plastic cup of her slushie. She didn't even carry her own bag. Her jet black hair allowed to flow down against her skin with a blue hair hand to push it back.

She was the Queen, the tip top of the social hierarchy, She said Jump you politely ask how high on your knees thanking all the gods she even spoke to you. She was the perfect picture when you imagine a cheerleader everything teen girls wanna be and everything teen boys want to get their hands on, Rumor spiralled around her but I doubt much of it was actually true. then again I had more insight than most.

I didn't stand in awe like most just respectfully waiting as they passed us and I quickly turned to see her doing my best not to get caught, Yeah the other exception...

Y/n y/l/n, One of the 'bottom of the pyramid' cheerleaders stronger and bigger than the rest and they are less popular but still a cheerleader and still higher than anyone else, sort of like being the lowest of the worker bees for the queen but you know still way higher then us maggots, she was everything I dreamt of and everything that drove me crazy, I'd sell my soul for her if the devil offered.

She walked In her uniform her hair was in a long braid with a blue bow her books in hand following along with the group I sighed she looked so good, I'd give anything just to be able to hold her hand.

"You are soo-"

"Don't say it" I snapped

"Talk to her"

"Are you crazy?"

"I mean... jury's out on that one" he laughs as we head to class

"Look Tommy, you're still new around here but I guess you understand hierarchy right? And the cheer team is at the top of the hierarchy. They all date the jocks, there all beautiful, and one of them will be prom queen. They're our pink ladies, our plastics, Our heathers. there untouchable"

"Interesting how Heathers are your ultimate in that line"

"Dead girl walking is a banger and I will not hear your dishonour, Tommy"

"Fine, but I've been here two months and I'm dating Teresa"

Yeah, that's my insight, how the fuck he did that I do not know!

"You got lucky, as the new kid you entered as a main character energy-neutral party and there could take any potential place in the chain. you are the sandy or the cady of this situation. I... I am treasurer of the chess club and head of the Scholastic Decathlon Team I am so low on this totem pole I may as well be in the dirt, I wouldn't even be a named character a backing extra if I'm lucky"

"You're never gonna get anywhere with a mindset like that, put some effort in kick yourself in the butt and rise"

"That's not possible"

"Sure it is, ...uhhhh Hu! Veronica Sawyer" he says as we sit in class

"Okay yes. But that involved a lot of betraying murder and madness." I explained "And my face is not already able to be split by a meat cleaver and have perfectly matching halves. and that's very important to be Veronica Sawyer"

"I'll be honest I've used up all my knowledge, I'm assuming all of that was references?"

"You're in theatre club Tommy"

"Yeah, we've just been doing Le Mis songs since I got here"

"cheap bloody theatre club we've done Le mis four times. seriously go home and watch Heathers. It's great" I told him

"Will do, if you actually talk to y/n"

"I wish there was some way I could talk to her,"

"Alright Class" Mr Janson headed in putting his stuff on the desk "Pop quiz!"

I hung onto my bag trying to keep my excitement at bay as I headed through the school like a fish heading upstream I reached the class and sat myself down excitedly. Not for class of course not, for physiology? You must be kidding. No the only justification I even took this stupid class, She sauntered in as she strolled on air, in her little white platform plimsolls, her short socks one of which was slightly lower than the other, flesh tone tights maybe a tone or so richer than her skin under them, her cute little cheer skirt and top, her hair in the cute braid with the bow to match her uniform, she had three folders in her arms one blue, one red, and one pink. Her little blue messenger bag over her shoulder, a sweet blue eye shadow to match her uniform and a glossy cherry lip gloss over her sweet lips as she came through and sat right In Front of me setting her folders on the table and her bag on the floor, she leant over opening her bag unzipping it and grabbing her little fluffy pencil case with cat ears and a little face embroidered on it opening it up to get at all her matching brand pens and pencils

I sat, utterly smitten the whole class. Just staring lovingly at the back of her head watching her every so often get items from her bag, Part of me couldn't help but look at the hem of her skirt as she sat one leg over the other, ummmm my little cheerleader what I wouldn't do for you, I couldn't help imagining my hands across that uniform, I couldn't help slightly leaning forward inhaling the sweetness, she smelt like cherries and ice cream. I almost shook my body so utterly enamoured with her even if I did do my best not to go too crazy given this morning I was kind a hair trigger and being this close didn't help, and I knew I only had a few more minutes of the class and she'd be gone again which would only leave me more disappointed. When I noticed something. On her bag, I suppose I never really looked at her bag? More focused on her, but I noticed in the small strap of her bag sat a clasp, of course, to attach it to the main body of the bag and she has attached a couple of key rings there, one a small fluffy ball that most girls had on their bags not sure why I'm sure it's something I don't understand, a keyring with the school logo on something I saw a lot of the cheer team and other jocks have on their bags, coats and locker keys as I assume the school just gives them out, and then one more keyring, once of those bits of acrylic with a some art inside and the picture was of a croquet mallet hu? Maybe she likes croquet? But then I noticed the mallet was blue with some blue flowers around it and a tattoo-style scroll reading 'colour me Stoked'

I almost had a heart attack!

She's not in drama club, or anything like that...

Luckily the bell went and she headed off I gathered up my stuff still utterly shell shocked as I headed out emotionless until I reached the benches where Thomas sat waiting for me with a few others.

Alby Estine, Class president and USA in the model UN and as uptight and rule-abiding as one can imagine which didn't exactly make him popular, he and I were pretty good friends as I'd known him since kindergarten and I unfortunately was the UK in the model UN I didn't wanna be but he didn't really give me a choice.

Alby sat in his button-down eating his sandwich and reading his Politics textbook.

Zart Larkspur, garden club captain and the school stoner, I didn't smoke personally but we both worked at the Seven eleven after school so had formed a pretty good bond the kinda we've both dealt with bullshit kinda bond you form with co-workers in a less than minimum wage job.

Zart sat his head on the table wearing his usual green hoodie and jeans, beside Frypan

Siggmon Fredricks or Frypan as everyone I had ever known calls him, was best friends with Zart and kind of came as a package deal with him but he was a cool guy and an amazing cook he actually brought a suitcase to school but no books not one, he used it all for food and snacks he either bought or made himself running a tuck shop out of the case.

He sat with a box of his homemade wings too busy enjoying them to really care what else was happening at the table.

"You okay newt?" thomas asked

"she- she uhhhhhhhh she's"

"What's up with him?" Fry asked

"she .... she uhhhhh"

"Did he get a flash under y/n's skirt and it broke his brain?" Zart chuckled moving enough to open one eye to see me

"Sh- she's she's one of us"

"What?" thomas asked

"She's one of us she's... a weirdo. she likes musicals, she's got a weird little fringe interest... I think I'm even more in love" I smiled laying my head on the table

"Uhhhh okay newt we'll just do stuff around you" fry smiled patting my head and putting one of his wings into my mouth

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luverofralts · 7 months ago

Text

Arkhelios Adventures

A great mountain range. Buildings that were easily centuries old. The long, cold reach of the Void. Adam could see it all as easily as if it were standing in front of him. He didn't seem to have a choice whether he wanted to see these images or not. They were darkness and beauty, strength and fear, each seared into his brain with one word tying them all together.

Theo.

"So hey, sorry if I'm interrupting your private moping time. Dad wanted me to check on you. I don't see the point since it's basically been a prison here since You-know-who left. What trouble could you possibly be causing? I think this is the first time in a week that I've actually seen you out of your pajamas."

Remy didn't even bother knocking on the door of the gardens. Adam had locked himself inside them for the past week, attempting to meditate or something equally as pointless. Mediation wouldn't heal her brother or make him talk to her about what had happened between him and Theo. She was his twin sister, though, and that made it her duty to get him back to the person he'd been before the incident. At the very least, she would get him out of this one room and socializing again.

"You can say his name, Remy. Theo is my boyfriend...or he was." He paused to consider his words carefully. "I don't know. Either way, saying his name isn't going to break me like Mom seems to think it will.

Says the guy hiding away from everyone to "meditate."

"I know I'm not Mom's biggest fan, but she might have a point," Remy said cautiously. "You seem...twitchy whenever he comes up. Have you heard from him at all?"

"Of course I haven't," Adam snapped, louder than he meant to reply. "Mom took our phones, remember? Wherever they sent him, I can't send any magical messages either. It's like he just disappeared off the face of the earth! I don't even know where to start looking for him."

"Do you want to find him?" Remy asked quietly, truly curious about the answer. "It's okay if you don't. I'd understand. No judgment here. With your condition, I'd be pissed too."

"My condition," Adam repeated bitterly. "You don't even know the half of it. No one does."

"Does Theo? Mom threw a fit about you two being connected, and I'm guessing that that's why things got so bad when everything happened. Can't you just sense him?"

"No, that's the problem," Adam sighed. "No matter how hard I try, he's just...gone. It's not like we were connected strongly or anything like that, but I should be able to feel something about where he is. Instead, there's just silence."

He's lying. I don't know about what, but he's lying. He's easier to read than a book. But he's lying for a reason. If I don't press it, maybe he'll tell me in his own time.

"Hey, he'll come back," Remy promised, hugging her brother tightly. "Whether I have to track him down for you myself. Elowen and I will have him back in an afternoon."

"Yeah, thanks. I don't think I'll need you two though."

"So you two are over," Remy gasped, trying to remain playful before he shut down again. "There are lots of other people here who would be happy to date you. Some of which, Mom might actually approve of."

"We're not over!" Adam snapped. "Not officially. We'd have to have a conversation for that to happen, and no one will tell me where he is!"

Remy rolled her eyes and grabbed her brother's hand, dragging him with her to the ground. He tried to wriggle away from her, but Remy was stronger.

"Nope. We're having twin time now," she insisted. "Just like when we were kids. You and I are going to talk this out. I'm sick of your moodiness, and I can't tell if I'm supposed to be rooting for Theo to come back or if I should be setting him on fire for hurting you. So spill."

"We're not little kids anymore. Just leave me alone."

"Not going to happen. If you won't talk to me, then I'm going to be forced to call Elowen and Bronwen in as reinforcement. I'm sure you can remember how powerful your sisters are when we fight together."

"How can I forget?" Adam groaned. "If Theo wasn't so strong, you three would have made my life miserable." He smiled fondly before he caught himself. It was hard to separate his childhood memories from thoughts of Theo. They'd been friends since Theo started at the academy and had been inseparable for years. There was no way of thinking about his past without being reminded of Theo. He just wasn't sure if his future would be the same way.

"Look, it's complicated," Adam said at last. "I love Theo, but...people have been warning me about him for awhile now. He's this kind, funny, loyal person who loves me with the intensity of the sun. But he's also a dangerous, reckless being with so much power that deities monitor him. I love him, but he's like fire. The closer I get to him, the more I get burned. I just don't want to get burned again, Remy. I don't want to hold him back from his potential either, though. He can do things I've never seen someone do and with ease. He might be better off without me."

"If you love him, it shouldn't matter," Remy insisted. "You've known for forever about Theo being unstable and you've never cared before."

"I never thought he'd hurt me like this before!" Adam snapped angrily. "He promised me that he'd protect me, not scar my face and leave me for dead."

Remy paused, unsure of what to say.

"I was there when everything happened, Adam. I saw the look on his face. He was desperate to save you. I mean, the two of you are usually nauseatingly cute together, but this was different. He was going against his own self interests to protect you, Adam. It tore him apart and he still did it. They dragged Theo out of here on a stretcher just like you, and he's not complaining. All he did was ask for you."

"I know, I know. That's what everyone says, but...maybe our love isn't a good idea like Mom says."

"What?! Who are you Mr. I'm Planning My Wedding at Nineteen? Did Mom bewitch you with one of her spells, or did you really hit your head that hard when you fell?"

"It's not like that," Adam mumbled quietly. "It's just common sense. You know that Theo and I have...been intimate lately?" He continued when Remy nodded. "This whole thing stems from that. Theo can't handle the emotions or the increased connection between us. He went off because of me, because of my desire to be close to him. I'm too dangerous for him and he's too dangerous for me. We just end up hurting each other."

"Hmm, fair," Remy conceded. "That makes some kind of sense. I've never had that problem, but I do tend to stay away from demons. Too much drama involved."

"He...he changed me, Remy," Adam admitted quietly.

"Well, yeah, you've been friends forever, of course you're going to change each other's lives."

"No, I mean that he changed me. That day. Why do you think that I spend most of my time here, trying to meditate? It's not for fun."

"I don't know what you're talking about. No one does when you're that cryptic. If you're going to break up with Theo, then you should at least come hang out with some of my friends. Get out there, see what the world outside of Theo looks like before you make your decision."

"I'm not sure if I want to break up with him. I just need some time. I want him to know what he's done and I need to know how he feels too. I want him to see this and ask him what he's going to do about it."

Adam gestured to his cheek, where a dark scar remained. Remy had helped her father try to reduce the supernatural scarring on Adam's face, but a corner of it refused to leave. His eyes were still red and bloodshot from the spell that had twisted the small amount of demonic DNA in his system.

"A deity told me that we have demon ancestors," he continued. "That Mom's side of the family came from Pleasantview demons."

"That's the first I'm hearing about this. Though it does make sense that Mom is slightly demonic. It explains some things." When Adam didn't laugh at her joke, Remy scowled. "Where on earth did you run into a god? Don't they have anything better to do than spill family secrets?"

"She was warning me about Theo. I...I think when the incident happened, our connection latched on to any dormant demon genes I have and went crazy trying to give him their power. I don't have a dark form, Remy, but Theo's energy twisted me into something that looked like one. They had to fix my skull with magic. They had to fix my skull, Remy. Our connection tore demonic energy I barely had and gave it to Theo. It scraped everything I had and...and he just took it."

"That's not something Theo did purposely though," Remy said softly. "He can't control himself. That's why they sent him away to demon boot camp. He would never choose to hurt you, that should be obvious."

"What if I can never sleep with him again?" Adam demanded, his voice betraying how close to sobbing he truly was. "What if even kissing him makes...makes all of that happen again? I can't trust that it won't happen again. He sometimes goes off without any obvious trigger, how will I know how to avoid it? If being with me makes Theo lose control of himself, then I don't think I can take that risk anymore. Next time I might die."

Remy kicked her brother in his shin, making him yelp.

"He's going to boot camp, Adam. When he does come back, he's going to know how to control himself. Do you really think Mom and Dad are going to let him come back here if there's a chance that you'll be in danger? No way. You're being stupid. Give me some time, I'll find a way to talk to your dumb boyfriend and get this sorted out. Life's too short to mope over something that can be changed."

"The scar's not the only change," Adam insisted, still looking like he was about to cry at any second. "The meditations are supposed to be controlling this." He flicked his wrist, releasing a purple haze that oozed from his skin. "Let me show you something."

Without another word, Adam rose from his seat on the floor and gestured for his twin to follow him.

"Well, this should be good."

Adam's pace was slow, but determined. There was still some physical damage from the incident that was slowly healing and Remy noticed that her brother was limping slightly. If it did turn out that Theo had caused all of this on on purpose, there was going to be hell to pay.

But it was an accident, she reminded herself, taking a deep breath to let go of the anger. Theo was just too dumb to handle a Darktide in the bedroom, like so many of Remy's past hookups.

He's just an idiot with no self-control. He didn't do this on purpose. You don't have to murder him for touching your brother.

"Are you okay with walking this far? I can teleport you wherever we're going."

"I'm fine. We're here anyway." He gestured to the expensive telescope that students used to calculate moon phases and chart astrology. "Watch that telescope."

"For what? It's just sitting there. Are you sure you don't want me to get a chair for you or something? Should I get Dad?"

"Dad already knows about this," Adam replied, intensifying his stare at the telescope and holding his hands in a magical stance. "You can't tell anyone else about this, Dad's trying to find someone to help with this, but people wouldn't understand if they saw what happened to me."

He flicked his hand again, and released more of that purple haze as he did so. When he moved his arm, Remy could see the telescope shimmer slightly, and then immediately surrender itself to a sudden rip in the atmosphere. The Void consumed the light around the object, wrapping itself around it so tightly that the two seemed fused together.

"Oh my god, Adam! You've actually become interesting!"

"Thanks," Adam replied angrily. "I'd like to think that I already was interesting before all of this."

Remy scoffed, still staring at the flashing telescope with wonder.

"So you can what? Attack people with the Void? Open portals just like Theo?"

Adam shrugged, flicking his wrist again as he did. Immediately, the tear in the atmosphere reappeared and began to rip the pieces of Void from the the telescope. Within a blink of an eye, the telescope was back to its old appearance, completely Void free.

"I don't know what it is," Adam confessed. "Dad thinks that Theo regenerated some of my DNA to work like a demon's would. Between trying to force a dark form and being able to touch the Void, my body is different now. It responds like a really weak demon hybrid might. A really weak hybrid. I can't do half the things an infant hybrid could, but-"

"But you're more resistant to Theo's demonic magic, just like you both wanted," Remy guessed. "You don't have a lot of cool powers from this, but you should be able to handle more demonic energy than before. You can help ground him if he goes off in the future. Maybe it could keep Theo grounded and balanced when you two are in the bedroom."

"Remy, stop!" Adam shouted. "I don't want to be changed so that I can make Theo feel better about himself or be his backup plan when he's about to have an incident. I want to be me, just like I was! I love a hybrid, but I don't want to become the pale shadow of one. I don't exist to make Theo's life easier."

"Okay, fair," Remy conceded. "But do you know what I could do with that much power? Lots of fun things."

"I also don't exist to make your life interesting, Rem. God only knows what you would do with access to the Void. Probably end up in the same place as Theo."

Remy laughed at the thought.

"Yeah, probably. Maybe that's how I'll find him for you. I'll get Mom to send me to demon military school."

Adam's knee buckled from standing too long and his sister rushed to his side even as he was pushing her away.

"Okay, well I think that's enough demon magic for today," she declared. "Now that you're out of your moping room, let's get you something to eat. You can't say no when you're leaning on me to walk."

Adam scowled, but didn't resist. He was a little hungry and it would be a welcome change from ruminating on what had happened all day like he'd been doing lately.

"Okay, fine. You win."

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chalamart · 1 year ago

Text

Breathing Room

TW: blood, home invasion, mentions of prescription drug use, mental health issues (anxiety), abusive relationship, brief choking, slight...horror? Gore, even? Possibly death - that one's up to you.

I nearly gave myself panic attack while writing this, so...reading it may have the same effect.

All of my stories are inspired by the AI art that Midjourney gives me using Timothée Chalamet as a prompt. Most of the art is quite romantic, but upon asking for TC in a dark room (lol), I ended up with...this.

I simply could not pass up the opportunity to return to my old love as an author using this image as a prompt, and write a good old thriller short. It quickly became much more than that.

As a result, this is NOT smut, or fluff, or anything even close to "normal" fanfiction I will write on this account. This story was intended to be something completely different, but as many other authors may experience from time to time, it took on a life of its own.

While I do intend to write the lovely smut and fluff we all so enjoy and share it on this blog, this story is not that. It's actually pretty...disturbed.

As the author, it is my duty to assure you that, while it may not entirely seem so, I am of both sound mind and stable psyche. Does some of this story likely come from a place of repressed trauma and echoes of a distant past? It's likely.

Do not read if you are triggered by panic or violence. You have been firmly warned.

The moment you turned your key in the lock, you knew something was off. You swore you had locked the deadbolt when you left, but the front door swung right open, almost as if it hadn't been closed all the way.

You peeked your head through the doorway and glanced about the entry hall. The light on the security system indicated that it was still armed, and nothing seemed to be amiss.

You had never been one to ignore your first instinct, but your mind was immediately eased as your eager Rottweiler came shuffling down the dark hall to greet you. Spud was a protective dog, and surely wouldn't keep calm if there was any real danger. He didn't even like the mailman, and he definitely didn't like strangers.

"It's been a long day, buddy," you groaned as you reached down to tickle Spud behind the ear. Stepping into the entry hall and kicking off your tall stilettos, you reached for the light switch as you shut the front door behind you.

*Flick, flick. Flick...flick...*

"Power's out...that's odd."

The security system must have still been running on the backup generator, but there didn't seem to be any power in the rest of the house. You'd have to go through the kitchen to the garage to flip some breakers.

Exhausted from your long day at the office, you let out a lengthy sigh and ran the fingers of one hand through your long hair as you stood barefoot in the entryway. You spent way too much money on your salon blowout to be tousling your hair around, but after this long of a day, you could care less about appearances.

You glanced at your phone as you set down your briefcase, fumbling the objects and nearly dropping them both. Life seemed a constant balancing act.

Making note of the bright phone screen as you set both objects down on the cold marble, you found it rather odd - no new notifications. Your long-time boyfriend, Timothée, usually sent you multiple, incessant texts as he left whatever big-shot movie set he was working on for the day. You felt a pang of annoyance that quickly began to grow into frustration. Timothée expected texts nearly every hour on the hour, even if he knew he would have no time to respond. But he could just go ghost for a whole afternoon and not even text you to ask how your day was? Typical.

Giving Spud one last tickle behind the ear, you sauntered towards the dark hallway that led into the kitchen. Spud didn't follow.

You could hear the "pit-pat" sound of your feet on the marble floor as you walked down the hall. The only other sounds present seemed to be the crickets outside singing their late-night lament and the light, distant buzzing of the backup generator coming from the garage. You continued down the hall, your eyelids heavy from exhaustion. You paused for a moment in the darkness to take in the sounds of the night and rest your eyes. You allowed your breathing to slow, focusing on the cool inhale and the warm exhale of your breath - just like your therapist recommended. Your anxiety was at an all time high with the COO position opening up at work, and the last thing you needed was to turn back to benzos to feel "normal" again. Nothing "fixed" the problem quite like Xanax and a large glass of wine...but the breathing exercises did seem to help.

In and out, in and out. Your breathing steadied.

Who knows how long you stood there, alone in the dark in your meditative state. It had come to feel so strange in this big house all by yourself. You usually felt so truly alone, especially recently with Timothée spending most of his nights on set or at his own place in Calabasas. Maybe the breathing was actually helping. Maybe you were finally getting better, and all your crippling anxiety, the fear of being by yourself, was finally beginning to subside - until it occurred to you.

...What if you weren't actually alone?

Your eyes shot open at the thought and you frantically glanced at your surroundings. Spud was still sitting gingerly in the middle of the entry, staring at you as you stood in the hallway. His tail began to wag as you met his gaze, but the dog didn't budge. The white walls were littered with moving shadows cast by the lilac bushes outside the windows. Feeling your eyes beginning to play tricks on you, you blinked hard three times to adjust them to the darkness once more.

"This is so silly," you thought to yourself. "I'm just losing my mind...again. It's fine." You steadied your breathing again as you stood alone in the silence.

Silence.

The crickets had stopped chirping.

Feeling your body begin to tense, you slowly turned your head away from the entryway and back down the hall towards the kitchen - a black hole in the abyss. It took you a moment to recognize that you hadn't been breathing at all, the air captured in your lungs after your last inhale. You had been holding your breath, listening intently for any strange noises in the darkness.

And then, you heard it.

A slow, guttural, rasping breath. It was faint, but distinct, coming from somewhere on the other side of what suddenly seemed to be an eternal, unwavering darkness.

As your eyes slowly began to adjust even more, you noticed a dark, gleaming substance contrasting with the white tile floor at the edge of the kitchen, along with what appeared to be the stark glimmer of broken glass, barely illuminated by a small strand of weak moonlight.

Your first real thought was to turn and run. Back down the hallway, out the front door, and straight to the neighbors for help. You'd knock on their door and tell them...

...Tell them what?

The last time you knocked on your neighbors' door for help, you were frantic. Screaming, crying, shaking...it was just embarrassing. You couldn't remember exactly what had happened, but you were told you had some sort of psychotic break. Timothée had shown up moments later to take you home and reassure the neighbors, who were seconds away from calling the police. The police ended up coming anyways, but by the time they did, you were calm and collected. They chalked the whole thing up to a false alarm.

No. No neighbors. They were out of the question. For much the same reason, so were the police.

You quickly snapped away from your thoughts and back to immediate reality as Spud, still sitting in the entryway, began to smack his tail loudly on the marble. You didn't pretend to know the reason why he would possibly allow an intruder into the house. No stranger could possibly get past him...nor would they want to. "A Rottweiler with jaws of steel," as Timmy called him...not a chance.

...What if there was no intruder? Had you been imagining the whole thing? It wouldn't be the first time you had imagined something, or been afraid of the dark.

You stood still in the gloom of the hallway and strained to listen to the silence. Whatever sound you had heard that caused you so much fear and grief did not seem to be present anymore. Maybe it was just the generator, sputtering as it ran out of fuel. The faint buzzing of the machine was gone, and it was total silence now.

Standing in stillness for a moment more and failing to pick up on any other strange noises, you finally allowed yourself to let out your breath. You could feel your heartbeat lightly pounding against your ears.

Turning back towards the kitchen, you once again noted the glint of the glass and what appeared to be some sort of liquid on the floor. Knowing you needed to clean the mess up before Spud managed to cut himself, you slowly made your way down the hallway to the kitchen once more.

"Breathe. Relax. False alarm. Stop being a total nutcase," you whispered to yourself.

Finally entering the kitchen and heading in the direction of the garage door on the other side of the room, the moonlight shone through the large French doors leading to the patio. Still, the kitchen was much darker than the entry, even with the absence of shadows from lilacs and trees outside. It was nearly impossible to see without light.

Managing to make your way to the cabinets at the edge of the kitchen counter, you reached for the junk drawer and rummaged through the jumbled mess of odd household objects. A small flashlight made its way into your hands.

*Click.*

The flashlight turned on and illuminated the shadows in the room. Remembering the mess on the floor, you immediately shined the flashlight towards the edge of the tile and squinted to determine the gravity of the situation.

Three panes of the doors on the china cabinet at the edge of the kitchen had been shattered. A vase on one of the middle shelves had somehow managed to crash to the ground, and pieces of clear glass and ceramic littered the floor. Mishaps like this had certainly occurred before at the mercy of Spud, who was notoriously clumsy and easily made hyper by even the smallest of sounds.

But, is that...blood?

You tip toed closer to the mess, doing your best to avoid any stray shards of glass on the tile. Leaning down closer to the dark, gleaming substance, a hint of deep red was illuminated by the light of the flashlight. You reached down with one finger to touch the substance and make your determination.

As you reached down, you heard it again - louder this time.

A shuddering, rasping, guttural breath.

With one fluid motion of body and flashlight, you whipped around and rapidly shined the flashlight in every direction, into every corner and crevice...

...and that's when you saw him.

Timothée was standing in the corner of the kitchen near the French doors, just out of reach of the revealing moonlight, completely covered in blood. His face was expressionless, and there was a threatening darkness in his demeanor that did not yield despite being discovered. The familiar sparkle that so many people know and love was not present in his eyes. As his eyes met yours, his sharp jawline pulsed at the mandible as if he was gritting his teeth together, hard. There was something oddly familiar about the way his face appeared - somehow gentle, yet violent at the same time. A single drop of blood trailed down his cheek as he shook and shuddered in what could only be described as the calm storm of uncontrollable rage. The blood did not appear to be his own.

"T - T - Timmy?" you gasped, your voice barely audible as shock and fear lapped at your lips.

Timothée continued to stare at you with a menacing intensity, as if breaking eye contact would all but shatter reality. Your breath was trembling, but steady as you held his gaze.

"TIMMY!" you shouted with a certain convicted might that you had not held in your voice for a long, long time. The courage did not feel like yours.

At the sound of your uninhibited shout, Timothée broke his steadfast demeanor and lunged at...no, sprinted towards you as he let out an angry, growling yell. With one swift motion, his large hand stretched out to meet your throat, the force of the contact carrying you harshly backwards until your body slammed into the broken china cabinet. You let out a sharp cry in pain as you felt stray shards of broken glass penetrate the delicate skin of your bare feet. Timothée's strong grip tightened around your throat, his strength lifting your feet from the ground as the remaining panes in the china cabinet began to crack from the force. You felt your airway closing at the mercy of his fingers. The silver rings adorning his sturdy hands applied concentrated pressure to weaker areas of your fragile neck.

Slowly, Timothée moved closer, placing his soft lips near your cheek.

"Can you fucking breathe, you slut?" Timmy shuddered quietly into your ear, his hot breath like fire on your skin. The metallic smell of blood entered your nostrils through what remaining air passage was left.

"C-can't...f-f-fucking...br-ea-the," you managed, your voice like a faint whisper.

You could feel the blood rushing to your ears...hear it, even. Your heartbeat grew louder and louder, beating faster and faster until you could suddenly hear your pulse begin to slow.

As the room around you grew dim and distant, you could barely make out Timothée's face - bloody, angry, unfeeling. As you faded in and out, you thought for just a moment that you felt his demeanor suddenly weaken. You could hear his gentle, whimpering cries as his grip released from your throat and he guided your limp body to the ground.

"I love you, I'm sorry. I love you, I'm so sorry. Please, please, I'm so sorry."

You would never know whose blood covered Timmy's usually perfect, picturesque face, or why his love for you suddenly turned to rage. At least Spud was there to protect you from strangers.

#horror fiction #horror slashers #horror short #thriller #short stories #fiction #tw abuse #tw violent imagery #tw violence #short story #short fiction

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voicesofthegrid · 2 years ago

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VotG - Topaz Blue

A story exploring the emotions of Edward Barnes during the events of 9/11. Content warning for depiction of 9/11, mild suicidal/self-harm ideation, and emotional distress.

6 AM: BEEP BEEP BEEP BE– CLICK. My fist slams down on my alarm clock, rattling the bedside table that it sits on. I groan and roll over, covering my eyes with my forearm to block out the beams of sunlight filtering through my curtains before grasping the covers and throwing them off of me. Another sleepless night. Must just be too much on my mind. Maybe I ought to get my apology over with today. I’ll have to think about it when I’m not still half asleep. I never make good decisions before coffee.

6:07 AM: The shower hisses to life as I turn the knob just a hair away from the highest temperature. Wispy steam rises from the water, filling the small room with wavering clouds.

6:29 AM: Goddamnit. Got lost in thought again. There goes my sit-down breakfast. At least I can read the paper on the train.

6:42 AM: I adjust my hat in the hallway mirror. My eyebags are dark and heavy.

6:50 AM: Thank god for travel mugs, huh? My brother was nice enough to have coffee ready for me as I rushed out the door. And to think we hated each other at one point. I take a sip as I sink into my seat in the subway car, snapping open today’s newspaper. Just a touch of sweetness. Exactly how I like it.

7:33 AM: The door to my office clicks shut behind me. I hang up my coat and hat on the rack in the corner, just as I have for the past… However many years I’ve been here. I pull the shade that hangs over my window up to gaze out on the city before I start my work for the day. Nary a cloud mars the topaz blue of the sky that extends out as far as the eye can see. I glance at the World Trade Center in the distance, the two great towers that anchor the campus. They stare back at me with their thousands of tiny windows, unblinking. Judging me. I have got to apologize to those kids. I just… can’t believe how goddamn immature I’ve been. Fuck.

8:05 AM: I tap my pen impatiently against my desk. Guilt is making it incredibly hard to focus on the task at hand.

8:43 AM: Goddamnit. I’m not going to get anything done like this. I’ve been up and pacing around my office for the past twenty minutes. I can feel those towers with their thousands of little eyes on my back burning straight through to my soul. Fuck it. I’m going home and I’m apologizing to the kids. Work can wait. I frantically shuffle papers into my desk and lock it shut before marching over to the coat-rack in the corner of my office. I grab my hat and—

8:46 AM, SEPTEMBER 11TH, 2001: BOOM.

I wheel around. There’s a dull thump as my hat falls from my grasp. My jaw hangs open in… Shock? Awe? Terror? I don’t even… I don’t know what to call it. I can’t name it. I just feel it.

I rush to the window.

There on the North Tower – Wyatt’s building – Is a gaping maw of shredded steel spewing black smoke.

Shit.

Is he hurt? What the hell caused… That?

I rip my phone from its cradle and frantically dial home to my brother with trembling hands.

“Clarence…?” My voice breaks as I barely choke out his name.

“Yeah, I – No, I don’t know what happened– Clarence– I– A plane? How? What?”

9:03 AM, SEPTEMBER 11TH, 2001: BOOM.

A soft gasp and a muffled sob filter through the receiver.

I look up from my desk. I… Know… I know what must have happened but I don’t want to believe it. I don’t want to see. But I force myself to look anyway.

A gash clawed through the South Tower – Winona’s building – is spewing the same black smoke that her brother’s building is. Oh my god.

“Clarence?” I ask, trepidation thick in my throat, “Are you…?”

He sees it too. I’m not dreaming. A nightmare then, surely. I… No, no this isn’t real this is just some god-awful nightmare, my subconscious trying to teach me a lesson.

Some… cruel trick.

9:33 AM, SEPTEMBER 11TH, 2001: I haven’t been able to peel my eyes off of the smoke pouring from the Towers. I have no idea where the twins are. If they’re hurt. They have to be hurt. I remember when I – No, no. Goddamnit, Ed. Don’t think about you. This is about them. They’re hurt. I hurt them. I. Fuck. They’ll be okay, right? If I survived back in ‘45, surely…

9:35 AM, SEPTEMBER 11TH, 2001: They’re evacuating my building. What happened to the towers is deliberate.

I’m not leaving.

A captain always goes down with his ship.

If I’m next, so be it. Maybe I deserve it after what I put those kids through.

9:38 AM, SEPTEMBER 11TH, 2001: I tell Clarence I’m leaving. I lie. I don’t want him to worry about me.

Click.

I keep my hand on the phone for a moment after I’ve returned it to its cradle. I wish I could tell him how much he means to me. I wish I had been a better brother.

I go to my liquor cabinet. I pour myself a drink. The good stuff.

9:58 AM, SEPTEMBER 11TH, 2001: Smoke is still pouring from the gaping wounds in the towers. I am numb. Sunken into my chair. Eyes glued to the blackened horizon in my window. My glass dangles precariously in my loose grasp.

9:59 AM, SEPTEMBER 11TH, 2001: CRACK.

The glass falls from my limp hand and shatters on the floor as I bolt upwards out of my chair.

She’s gone.

The South Tower… Winona… It… She’s… Just.

Gone.

Hot tears well in my eyes.

10:21 AM, SEPTEMBER 11TH, 2001: I pace the length of my office in front of my window. I am an animal, trapped in a cage of my own making. The glass remains shattered on the floor. How long have I been pacing? When did this start? When did it all go so wrong?

10:28 AM, SEPTEMBER 11TH, 2001: There is a great roaring in the distance.

The North Tower falls.

Dominoes. A house of cards. A structure that once held the title of tallest building in the world, reduced to nothing.

Ash.

Wyatt is gone. Winona is gone. That wish that I had made so long ago, that awful, awful wish of just wanting them to disappear…

Here it is, come to fruition.

Fuck.

#writing #c: ed #c: wyatt #c: winona #c: clarence

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your-divine-ribs · 3 months ago

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Pure Part 7: Guardian

Words: 2.7k

I might have taken inspiration from Twilight for this chapter 🤭 💜

Pure Masterlist Main Masterlist

The morning slips by quickly as it tends to when I spend time with Freya. I don't find out much more about the murder apart from some more grisly details about the way the man was killed. I have to tell Freya to shut up about it in the end, fearful that my breakfast will make another appearance if I dwell on the horrific details for too long. She still seems to think that whoever committed the crime was doing God's work by ridding society of a dangerous individual who'd only go on to attack more women, but I can't let myself think that. A life is still a life and no one has the right to play God and decide who deserves to live and die. Once you start thinking like that it's a slippery slope and who knows what you'll start to justify for 'the greater good'.

I find out that after Freya had realised that I'd gone last night and left all my belongings behind she'd scoured the bar to no avail but then Benji convinced her that she had nothing to worry about. He told her that he'd seen me cosying up to a guy and I'd likely taken off with him. I'm more than a little upset that she'd be so easily led by a man she'd only just met, believing that I'd do something so uncharacteristically reckless, quickly dismissing the possibility that I might have been in real trouble. I recall Van's prediction that she'd already made up her mind that she was going home with her new love interest, and a niggling little voice in my head tells me that he was right. I don't let it show how hurt I am though, I just swallow it down and recite the same lies I told her on the phone about feeling uncomfortable and taking off for home alone.

By the time lunchtime rolls around and Freya's left me to start her afternoon shift at the clothing store I'm still no closer to finding out whether my experience last night was real or imagined. It's exhausting going over things in my head so I resign myself to try and push away the troubling details for now. It's amazing how much less threatening everything feels in the daytime, the mundane pace of life dampening the fantastical events I'm now more inclined to think were simply a product of my overactive imagination.

My last customer of the day is an elderly lady who spends an absolute fortune on rare Elvis first pressings. She tells me a wonderful story about how her late husband had proposed to her during a live performance whilst they'd been holidaying in Vegas. The King himself had been singing Can't Help Falling in Love whilst her betrothed got down on one knee to pop the question and it had been 'their' song ever since. It's such a sweet and sentimental story that it brings a lump to my throat when I put the record on and watch the lady's eyes glisten with emotion. It makes me think that no matter how dark the world seems sometimes there's so much goodness and love and light to be thankful for. When the song plays out and she leaves happily clutching her purchases I smile to myself, humming the melody absentmindedly as I lock the main shop door and flip the sign over to 'closed'.

I grab my jacket from behind the counter and sling my bag over my shoulder, flicking off lights as I make my way to the back room and the door beyond. It's late October and the nights are starting to draw in already, the autumn sun hanging low, painting the sky in hues of russet and amber. It's not dark yet but even so I feel a little uneasy at the thought of making the journey home alone. I delve into my bag for my phone to call Freya, frowning to myself as the call rings out and her voicemail picks up. I try again and again as I secure the door, eventually giving in and leaving a brief message.

"Where are you Frey? Ring me. I'm on the way home."

I pause as I emerge on to the main road, contemplating killing time by calling in to see Johnny but his shop looks dark and deserted as I step up to the glass and peer inside. The whole shop window is decorated with tacky Halloween props, it's completely tasteless but he still manages to pull off a kitsch spooky aesthetic that somehow works. I usually avoid spending time in his shop as it gives me the creeps but I'd be in there right now in a heartbeat if I could.

There's still no reply from Freya so I pull my jacket tightly around my body against the fresh breeze and start the walk home, immediately falling into a brisk pace, trying to ignore the flash-blacks intruding from last night. The sound of my footsteps striking the pavement evokes memories of me scurrying fearfully to the church so I pull my phone out of my bag again to flick through my messages to occupy my thoughts. If I can't converse with someone then at least I can text, reach out to feel less alone... or not. Since I locked up the shop I've had that unsettling feeling of being watched, the small baby hairs at the nape of my neck prickling even though the only people I can see in my immediate vicinity are paying me no attention whatsoever. They're going about their lives, busy with their own agendas, complete strangers to me. I'm just being paranoid, that's all there is to it.

Just being overly sensitive... that's what my mum would say if she was here with me now, her accompanying eye-roll and tightly pursed lips sure to make me frown in response. Despite how much she infuriates me at times I know she only means well and the thought of her is a welcome distraction. I quickly scroll though my messages, looking for our last conversation, head down as the autumnal wind whips up a flurry of fallen leaves as I turn the corner to walk past the park. I pause to let a car pass on the road ahead, stepping forward to cross as I begin to type...

It all happens so fast I don't have time to react, the ear-splitting sound of screeching brakes cutting through the air like a siren to warn me that I'm in danger. It's too late though, I've already left the safety of the pavement, my feet frozen in place on the road even though they should be carrying me out of harm's way. My phone tumbles from my grip, clattering to the ground and instantly forgotten as my body twists to face the oncoming car which is barrelling towards me fast, much too fast, skidding like it's out of control. I'm a rabbit in the headlights, caught in a deadly moment of shock and indecision, the hellish sound and stench of rubber scraping harshly on tarmac invading my senses.

They say your own life is supposed to flash before you at the point of impending death but that's not what happens to me. I'm incapable of any thoughts at all, my brain just as frozen and useless as my body, my eyes wide and fixed on the shadowy figure behind the windscreen, my mouth hanging open in a silent scream. It's the frantic blaring of the car horn that finally releases me from my suspended state but I'm still rendered helpless, my body folding in on itself defencelessly and my eyes screwing shut to block out the oncoming danger.

But then suddenly I'm moving, aware of the sensation of the soles of my trainers scraping across the rough surface like I'm being propelled. My eyes flick open and inexplicably Van is right there, pressing me tightly into his side like some kind of superhuman protective force. His body is cool against mine and hard as rock, like he's cut from granite. He might not look strong but he is, unnaturally so. Before I can even marvel at the fact that he appeared from out of nowhere he's swiftly manoeuvred me out of the car's path with ease, one hand outstretched towards the bonnet of the vehicle like he means to stop it in it's tracks. It's a suicide mission but I feel compelled to watch from my vantage point where I've come to fall at the side of road on my hands and knees, relatively unscathed. It's morbid fascination which has me entranced but I already know what the outcome will be. This will be no ordinary crash just like Van is no ordinary man, but even with that knowledge, nothing can prepare me for what I'm about to witness.

Sure enough the impact is catastrophic, but not for Van. Impossibly the whole front of the car caves in like it's hit a solid brick wall, the blood-curdling sound of metal twisting and breaking and being torn apart by some unimaginable force. I scream out loud, horrified and over-awed, my cries swallowed up by the cacophony of screeching tyres and rending metal and shattering glass as the windscreen of the car explodes outwards, a hail of glass shards like deadly glittering diamonds catching the light as they fall. I shield my face and cower back, crying and whimpering as chaos ensues all around me.

Within seconds the whole front of the car has been reduced to a mangled, twisted sculpture of crushed metal whilst Van stands next to it still and unfazed, his expression placid and eerily calm as he turns his head to look down at me like he hasn't just stopped a 3000lb speeding vehicle dead with just his bare hands.

"Are you okay?"

"Y... y... yes... I... I think so," I stutter, glancing down to assess myself even though I know with certainty that my most serious injury is a slight graze to my knee that stings mildly. I'm shaking wildly though, trembling with aftershocks of fear, the adrenaline zipping through my veins and pumping my heart so wildly that I feel perilously faint. I can't let myself pass out though. Not now. Not again. Not after what I've just seen, the realisation sinking in that every single thing that I can recall from last night happened exactly as I remembered it. And Van is exactly who he says he is.

"The street's going to be heaving in a moment, we need to leave right now," he states firmly, stooping down to hoist me on to my feet. "Come on, up you get."

I try to resist but he pulls me up effortlessly like I'm weightless. I know he's just rescued me from what could have been a fatal collision but how am I supposed to feel safe with him? I have no idea what he wants from me and I'm too terrified to even try and contemplate it.

"No... no... get away! I'm not going anywhere with you!"

I try to twist away but the grip he has around my waist is vice-like. I'm in full blown panic mode, my head whipping around in every direction to see if anyone can help, and that's when I notice the lifeless bloodied figure of a man slumped over the steering wheel of the wrecked car. I cry out again, the fear and the disbelief and the sheer horror of what's occurred hitting me with an impact just as devastating as what I've witnessed. I'd crumple into a shaking heap on the floor if Van wasn't holding me up. My vision swims and I blink rapidly to try and clear it.

"You need to calm down. I won't let anyone or anything hurt you, I mean it. You need to trust me Eve."

Van's face swims into view, his words filtering into my ears in a calm, measured tone which would be reassuring if not being spoken by the man who apparently feels the need to kill or maim anyone who crosses my path.

"Trust you?" I yell, my hands balling into fists as I pound them a few times against his chest in a feeble effort to urge him to release me. "You're fucking crazy, let me go! If you don't I'll... I'll scream!"

I can see people in the distance starting to rush towards the scene, shouts of alarm and panic and "someone call an ambulance!" Maybe they can help. I'm twisting and flailing in Van's arms but he just holds me even tighter, a large hand closing around my wrists and holding them against my chest so I can do nothing but wriggle ineffectually.

"Would you just stop trying to fight me? It's not gonna work."

His words are sharper now, his impatience clear and that frightens me even more. I've seen enough to know that infuriating him could be fatal, but what choice do I have? I can't just let him whisk me away to my fate without at least trying to put up a fight.

"Help! Somebody help me!" I cry out as loud as I can, repeating the words as I notice a woman break off from the approaching crowd and veer towards me, concern clear on her face.

"Are you okay dear?" She calls out uncertainly, stopping a few feet away. Her eyes dart between my stricken face and the claw-like grip that Van has on my wrists. She looks frightened and she should be. I've seen what he's capable of. Even though there's a voice in my head warning me that I might be inadvertently signing an innocent bystander's death warrant by involving them, my survival instinct overrides everything in the heat of the moment.

"No... no I'm not, he's going to hurt me!" I bawl frantically. "Help me... please! Call somebody! I need help!"

"For fuck's sake, why d'ya have to go and draw attention to us?" Van hisses, and in a swift movement he releases my wrists and bends to scoop me up into his arms, bundling me close to his body. I can feel a dark kind of energy radiating from him, every muscle and tendon taut and coiled like a spring.

"The police are on their way," the woman announces loudly, moving cautiously closer. "In fact they'll be here any minute. You should probably let her go before they get here."

I can see that she's trying to stand tall and act brave even though the tremor in her voice betrays her and all I can think of is the creep from the bar last night and what happened to him after he'd confronted me. I can't let that happen again, especially not to an innocent person, and a Good Samaritan no less.

"Stay back!" I blurt fearfully. "Stay back... he's... he's dangerous! You don't understand."

"You heard her, why don't you run along now?" Van says, his voice cold and taunting, but the woman stands her ground. In fact she steps even closer, reaching out like she means to try and wrench me out of Van's arms. The fact that we're in a very public place doesn't comfort me at all and I know I have to do something. I can't let her unwittingly put herself in danger with a clear conscience. I've caused too much devastation already.

"Please don't hurt her... it's me you want isn't it? Well, you have me. I won't try to get away, I promise. I'll go with you."

I turn my head towards him, looking up to see his blue eyes blazing, a tempest swirling in his irises. I'm terrified but I can't seem to look away. It's like he's got me hypnotised, caught under his spell. And then I hear his voice, clear and precise even though his lips don't appear to be moving. It weaves through my mind like wisps of silk, infiltrating the furthest recesses of my brain and lulling me in spite of my fear. The chaos of the outside world seems to retreat into the shadows.

"Sleep Eve... close your eyes... you don't have to be afraid anymore."

I don't want to but I can't stop my body responding to his command, and the blackness behind my eyelids seems to melt into all eternity.

#pure #van mccann fanfic #au fanfic #vanfic

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