#he said i should try giving the lecture to a mirror or a stuffed animal or smthn like that

[strawberri-syrup]

who wants to learn about blood vessel physiology???????

[supertransural]

thinking about dean cas and baby jack going on a road trip. dean’s used to being in the impala for long lapses of time, but it’s usually stressful, it’s tiring, it’s always in the expectancy of another job, another monster to be defeated. it’s always going from point A where a killer was killed to point B where another one awaits. it’s always about the job.

so this time, concentrating on the road as dusk was slowly creeping up on them, with cas dozing off beside him or maybe thinking hard about... something (this was cas after all, how was dean supposed to know what went on in his (his!! he still couldn’t believe that) angel’s head), squinting as always, his eyes almost shut; with 4yo jack in the backseat, drooling all over the fine black leather (if this wasn’t his kid, dean would’ve stopped the car already and thrown the child out just for this punishable-by-death-atrocity) and dreaming about a future dean gets to be a part of (goddammit how did he get so lucky), he was surprised when he didn’t feel the much-too-common tension in his shoulders. he felt... relaxed, yes that’s the word. it’s a word he was beginning to understand, a word that cas was teaching him how to feel.

a small smile cracked its way through dean’s face as he turned his attention back to the road. they were on their way to Louisiana, not set on a town yet. he may have been retired, but dean hadn’t lost his taste for adventure, so he had convinced his little family to just, wing it. he wondered if he should switch routes and see where the new one lead him, but that might upset cas who was really excited about eating the good food he’d heard his husband talk so much about. louisiana it is, then, he thought.

in the corner of his eye, he could see cas breathing deeply, no doubt already mapping out every possible resting spot for tonight, every corner store that sold kids food, maybe emergency stuff (cas could get a bit overwhelming when he listed off every single potential thing that may go terribly wrong with jack when they leave the safety of their house) or diners that cas deemed appropriate enough for their special kid. because he really was special, every smile, every laugh, every new drawing or string of words he puts together seemingly just so he can see his dads smile, every single thing this baby does is special. unique. and dean gets to see all those things, he gets to be there for everyone of them. jesus he’s getting emotional, should stop that now or cas will be teasing him about it for the rest of the trip. ok, deep breaths now, he thought. the road, the wheel in his hands, baby’s engine humming quietly. right. got it.

they packed frantically two days prior, because cas. jack was giggling the whole way through, observing them from his stool, since apparently dean looked really funny with peach fuzz he hadn’t had the time to shave yet (cas woke him up in a panic at 6am dammit) pink pajama shorts, his boots and a unicorn tshirt he only wore in cas’ presence (sam is a lovey kid, but hell if dean is ever going to let him see the collection of tshirts this one comes from). 4 suitcases, a couple inflatable duck-floaties, way too many towels, every single one of jack’s stuffed animals (except the little purple dinosaur one that jack was firmly holding onto during his inspection of his parents’ packing ordeal) and a thousand other useless things cas seemed to find essential to their survival.

“jesus, it’s only a couple weeks, honey!” dean had told him, trying to fit the last suitcase into the trunk of the impala (and miserably failing, to his own bitter disappointment).

“yes, a “couple weeks” within which we will apparently be doing things and going places we cannot foresee, as was your wish. i simply want to be prepared for any alternative your resourceful mind might come up with. and jack requires all his stuffies, he cannot sleep without counting each one of them before bed. you do not wish to see your child cry for two weeks, do you? you would not purposely cause him any pain, would you? right then the matter is settled. these items must find their way into this car you love so much, and i must attend to our son. his breakfast awaits!” cas had responded, mischievous smile growing larger with each sentence. “good luck!” he then added, giving dean a long and deep kiss, as if this was to be their last.

after a kiss like that, how was dean supposed to keep on complaining? he wasn’t, and that was exactly what cas intended, dean knew that. doesn’t mean he protested, or argued against his miraculous-bitch of a husband. so he had finished packing, muttering to himself, but unable to push down the grin that cas’ kiss had brought upon his face. or the flush of his cheeks for that matter.

here he was, happy as he’d ever been, relaxed for the first time ever while being on a long drive (first of many times, he hoped), with the love of his life on his right side, and the other light of his existence in the backseat, little hands still clutching the purple dinosaur.

“hey.” he heard a raspy and sleepy voice say. cas had indeed been asleep for the past 30 minutes.

“good morning, sleepyhead!” answered dean, chuckling.

he looked at cas’ beautifully hazy face, his icy blue eyes shining in the pink-orange light of the fading sun. god, how could this man be his, and how could dean ever refuse him anything. he reached out his right hand to place it on cas’ left thigh, stroking it lovingly in round patterns with his thumb. smiling at him, he wondered if giving him a quick kiss would cause his husband to start lecturing him again (for the thousandth time probably) about driving safely when jack was in the car.

fuck it, he thought. he glanced at the empty road, and lunged quickly towards cas before the former angel could refuse, and placed his lips on his for a few seconds. grinning to himself as he sat back, directing his gaze back to the highway, he waited for cas’ annoyed voice, no doubt already preparing a stern talking-to and threatening him to rat him out to the police to get his license taken away (not that it would matter, dean still had all his fake ID’s in a secret box back home, carefully tucked between baby clothes and pacifiers at the bottom of a drawer).

“dean.” cas started, a frown already carved into his forehead.

“oh no you don’t” dean cut him off. “if you lecture me, jack’s gonna feel it and he’ll wake up from what seems to be a very pleasant dream. save it for the hotel room, i know a few ways you can make me feel the weight of my wrongdoing.” he added with a wink.

cas turned to look at his son, still happily asleep in the back. frown disappearing, a sweet smile starting to lighten his expression (wow, he really could just look that magnificent whenever he felt like it) he turned back to face his partner.

“fine. just because he’s asleep. where are we?” cas said, squinting disapprovingly, then yawning silently.

“just passed the northern border of arkensas.” answered dean with a sigh. “gonna be a pretty boring drive from here on out”.

“i see. there’s a motel not far from here, with a town nearby where we could find sustenance, appropriate for jack too.” cas said, not even looking at his phone: he’d memorized each town’s location, every name of every motel, roadhouse, diner that they might encounter, because he was like that. and god did dean love him for it. “it’s getting a bit late, and i would rather see jack in a bed tonight than sleeping in the car” he remarked. “no offense to her” he added hurriedly when he felt dean’s glare after what could be interpreted as an insult to his baby.

“alright. when’s the exit for this town of yours?” dean asked absentmindedly.

“15 more miles, i believe.” cas answered, propping up an elbow on the windowsill.

“cool. tell me when you see it, i might forget, with you looking so handsome right next to me and all. tired father really is a good look on you.” dean whispered with a side smile.

“oh stop it. jack is right there.” cas answered, chuckling and fiddling with his wedding ring.

they stared at each other, peace settling comfortably between them.

“you know i love you, right?” said dean, without a hint of humor in his voice.

“yes, you’ve taken the habit of telling me, roughly 28 times a day, give or take.” joked cas as he saw dean scowl. “i love you too, now and forever, when the seas rise and swallow the land, when the heavens fall and the stars burn out, i will still love you, the only light that ever mattered, the first soul i ever really saw, the one i followed to hell and back. but you already knew that, right?” cas uttered with warmth, with the same voice he’d used at their wedding.

“jesus, cas. if you’re not careful, i might just end up falling for you. oh wait, i already did.” answered dean, face reddened and heart full. this is where he belonged.

dean’s hand was still on cas’ thigh, and their gazes were still locked together when jack woke from his sleep in an adorable mumble. he immediately started babbling to his fathers about the dream he had had (probably making up new details, but you could never know with that kid). as the family laughed together, dean looked to his window, and time stilled for a split second.

he saw a ghost of who he was, staring back at him in his reflection, eyes glossy with tears (joy? terror? sadness? love? hate? too hard to tell). the face in the makeshift mirror seemed to ask “is this really what is coming? will i truly get to where you are one day?”. dean smiled, nodding a silent “yes, yes you will. in time.” and the face faded away slowly, a little less scared than it had seemed at first.

when he looked back towards his husband and his son, his own eyes were glossy too.

“what’s wrong?” cas asked, worried.

“nothing, i’m just happy.” dean answered, wiping away a tear that was slipping down his cheek with a sure smile. “i’m just... happy.”

they drove until cas pointed at the exit, ate, and fell asleep contentedly.

18 years ago, dean dozed off without the need for strong booze in the very same motel, and the same tear (joy, maybe?) danced down his face into the pillow. a low hum of a voice saying “in time” ringing brightly in his mind, he fell asleep into the deepest slumber he’d ever gotten. “all will be well”, a voice kept repeating.

[shannie-writes]

Remember Me

Word Count: 2198 Genre: Angst Pairing(s): Asmodeus/MC Warning(s): A little heartbreak, no happy ending Prompt: Asmo has amnesia and MC is taking care of them. MC tries their best to help Asmo remember them. A/N: I made a personal list of 100 prompts I liked from the OTP prompt generator online and this was probably the only angsty prompt on it whoops. My one (1) angst fic for the year. I may come back at another time and follow-up on this with a happier ending soon!

Edit: I have made a follow-up with a semi-sweet ending with Don’t Forget Me.

Asmo admired his face in his hand mirror, turning this way and that to view every angle. He was pleased that there was no lasting trace of the accident on his skin but for a few small scar marks near his temple. They were easily covered by his hair and made an excellent story should it ever be spotted and pointed out. After all, skin and bone heal quickly for demons.

The same could not be said for humans. He glanced over the rim of the mirror at the girl who fidgeted at the foot of his bed. She was in a bit of a sorry state, what with her left forearm in a cast and the bandages she still sported scattered up her arms and neck. He was told that he had protected her from the brunt of the damage, that she likely would have died if he hadn’t moved between her and a truck that hadn’t seen her as it barreled along the streets of Devildom. He could believe it, from how banged up he had been when he had regained consciousness.

His brothers had told him that she was his girlfriend. He would have laughed at them if he hadn’t seen the photos that he had posted to his Devilgram feed, the reason he asked who this human was in the first place. His phone had been destroyed and they weren’t able to recover the data, but the timestamps on his posts couldn’t lie when he saw them after getting a new one. He had spent hours scrolling through them. From the morning of the accident when he posted a picture of them about to go out to town, to photos of his birthday where she had made a special cake with human ingredients just for him, to when their relationship first officially started. He had stared at that particular photo for a long time, trying to memorize the details. He was giving her a kiss and she was smiling through it, her dimple strong at the angle of the camera and her closed eyes almost hiding behind her glasses. He looked incredibly happy and he wasn’t sure how to feel about it.

He visited her at the hospital she was in. It was obvious that his brothers had been visiting her during her stay. There were gifts of books and stuffed animals scattered around the room. He imagined she had been gifted food or treats of some kind, but if she had they were long gone with a visit from Beelzebub. He stood in the doorway, watching her sleep for a few minutes before he approached her. Standing by the bed, he looked at her, trying to spark something in his memory. When nothing happened, he wondered to himself if it was because she didn’t look much like her photos. Half her face was covered in scrapes and he couldn’t see much of her below her neck, both from bandages and blankets.

She’d whispered his name and his heart jumped at the softness of it. Through sleepy, bleary eyes, she murmured that she was happy he came, said that Lucifer told her he was healing up quickly and was happy to see that was true. He was so thrown by the look in her eyes that he jolted when she touched his arm, moving away from her. She looked confused by his reaction at first, but with a few blinks to push sleep aside, she quickly moved her hand into the blanket again, apologizing. Told him that Lucifer had explained to her what had happened. Apologized again, this one much softer than the first. He had left the room before he could see the first tear fall. He wasn’t sure how he felt about her, but he didn’t want to see her cry.

A few weeks later, she was discharged. He hadn’t seen her since his single visit and he was hesitant about her return to the House of Lamentation. Lucifer insisted it was because this was her home, and each of his brothers agreed in turn. He sighed and said he supposed it was fine then, despite the roiling of his stomach with nerves.

The doctor had told him he had lost a few years of memory. It was hardly a loss for a demon of his caliber. It threw him off, but it wasn’t hard to reconnect with old friends. The biggest change was in his brothers. They were all...different. Behaved differently than he was used to. Softer. Kinder. Even Belphegor was changed. That nagged at the back of his mind much stronger than any questions he received when he went to the club if he and his supposed girlfriend had broken up.

So now he lounged on his bed and pretended he wasn’t watching her, wasn’t waiting for something to return and reveal itself in his memories of what was so special about this human that it defied his very being.

He stretched his arms in the air before he dropped the mirror on his pillow with a sigh. “Still as beautiful as ever.”

“Mm,” she hummed. Asmo did his best to not look her way to see what her expression was as she did.

He laid down on his stomach, facing her. Propping his chin on folded arms, he watched her closely as he gave her a flirtatious smile. “Have you ever seen anything prettier than this face?” She flushed and averted her eyes. “Oh? Is that a yes? Won’t you tell me what it is?”

Her face reddened further and she cleared her throat. “Asmodeus, is there a reason you asked me to join you in your room?”

He pursed his lips in a pout. “I wanted to see you.”

Her eyes flicked to meet his unmoving gaze before moving away again. “You saw me at dinner.”

“But your cute face in my room is where I wanted to see you.” Leaning forward, he dropped his voice to a murmur. “And I think your cute face in my bed may spark some old memories.”

She jumped off the bed to her feet and took a few steps back, much to his surprise. She gripped the edge of her jacket anxiously and he couldn’t ignore the pain in her eyes.

“Asmo, you don’t have to do that. We don’t have to...that’s not...you don’t have to force yourself like that.”

He frowned. “If you don’t want me to touch you, I won’t. Come lay by me.” He rolled over to give her space, staying on the further half of the mattress and beckoned her to join him.

She hesitated, looking between the bedroom door and him before she slowly approached again. Timidly getting on the bed, she lay herself on his second pillow, finding a comfortable position as she faced him.

“I have questions for you, dear.” He sensed her hesitation and waited for her to answer.

She settled her gaze on the dip of his throat. “Shoot.”

“What was our first date?”

Her eyebrows bunched together and she worried her bottom lip between her teeth. “Well...I think it was technically a shopping trip to Majolish, but you never really counted that.” She took a slow breath. “The one you always claimed was when you took me to one of your favorite clubs. You picked my outfit, something I would never wear on my own, but you insisted and said it looked perfect.” She closed her eyes and her lips were touched with a soft smile. “It was an awful night. You got a bit drunk and praised me up and down, much to my embarrassment. By the time we left, it was incredibly late. We sobered you up on a long walk across town and when we got home we had to sneak around to make sure we weren’t caught by Lucifer. And of course we were caught by Lucifer. We had an hour-long lecture that you claimed gave you migraine and I was falling asleep on my feet. You had an awful hangover in the morning and I got blisters from walking around in those god awful shoes half the night.”

“I can’t believe I would claim such a bad night as a first date,” Asmo scoffed.

“Well, it was the first night I told you I--” she cut off and took another deep breath. “We talked a lot on our walk.” She drew silent and Asmo sensed that was all he would get from the topic for now.

“When was our first kiss?”

She seemed to stare harder below his chin even as a blush rose to her cheeks again. “It depends...you really loved kissing whenever you could. Um...the first I don’t count. You had switched bodies with Beel--it’s a long story--and when you saw me, you immediately brought me in for a kiss. It devastated Beel who was in your body and you blamed it on the hunger, it was a hot mess.”

Asmo laughed, but he knew it was dry. It was strange to hear these stories and not remember them, to not remember anything that happened since she had arrived for the exchange program.

Her smile faded as well as her blush. “I suppose...the first kiss would have been…” she trailed off and was silent for a beat longer than Asmo liked. “You were mad at me. It was shortly after Belphegor was released from the attic. You pulled me aside and...well...told me to prove I actually cared and wasn’t just using you for the pact. Which, of course I wasn’t. It wasn’t totally undeserved either though.” Her right hand rose to her neck to idly trace a pale scar line on her skin. Asmo watched her carefully, wondering what she was thinking. “It was fierce. I remember feeling guilty afterward for liking it as much as I did.” She finally lifted her gaze to meet his eyes with a sad smile. “You’re a really great kisser, you know.”

He wanted to see the happy smile he knew she had. He had seen her with Beel in the kitchen, laughing and having a good time. She had seen her struggle to hide a grin when Mammon told her his daily woes after school. Even Levi got some when they talked about that mononoke game together. He wanted one for himself and not this paltry echo she gave him now.

He was slow in his descent, giving her plenty of time to refuse him as he placed his lips on hers. He stayed there, unmoving and soaking in the warmth of her skin and her chapped lips. He felt her swallow dryly, trying to wet her throat without moving away. With her shaky exhale across his mouth, he proceeded.

It started gently. Surface contact only, the lightest tilt of head to prevent his nose from touching the lens of her glasses. He wanted more, his body craved for more. It was almost as though it remembered her touch, the feel of her fingers on his cheek and the way her body slotted next to his when he pulled her close. His mouth opened and she opened hers in return, sighing out his name as his tongue entered and slid along hers. He took his time exploring, listening to her soft hums, the sweet gasps of his name when he broke for breath, enjoying the way she wrapped her arm around him and clutched at the back of his shirt.

Being careful of her other arm, he rolled them over and caged her with his body. Her eyelids fluttered as she lifted her hips up into him, her legs shifting to cradle his hips between her knees. He could sense how it was second nature for her, how she didn’t question herself as he licked into her mouth, hoping the taste of her would help him remember. If the stories and seeing her alone wouldn’t break through his mind, he hoped a physical connection would do the trick. He wanted to know what about her had appealed to him, what about her had changed him so much that the old him was unrecognizable by his own family.

His wishes were cut short as she attempted to wrap her arms around him and her cast caught on his shirt. It pulled her out of her own fantasy and she gasped out for him to stop, for him to let her go. He did so and she rolled off the bed, panting for breath and searching his eyes for something she could recognize before they darkened in despair and she ran from the room.

He felt cold as he lay alone on his bed. He buried his nose in the pillow she had laid on, praying there was a scent, something, anything, that would bring back those memories she seemed to cherish so much. But all he smelled was his own perfume.

He couldn’t understand the tears that soaked into his sheets. All he wanted was to feel the way he could see he had felt with her and he cried wondering if he would never feel that way again.

[insert-witty-comment]

Chapter 1- Prayers to the False God. February 9th, 1925 Saint Michael’s Home for Boys Hampstead, London. I was a quiet child growing up. I was a foundling. Found one morning on the doorstep on a January morn in 1915, or so the nuns tell me. I grew up in England. From the time I was an infant, I knew I was different. When I was younger, before the abuse began, the Nuns would talk about the golden rule. That we needed to treat each other as we wanted to be treated. I, personally, did not believe that first part. I knew I was meant for more than dreary orphan halls, secondhand clothes, and a greatness few of these brats would know. I knew this because the little voice told me. The voice didn’t talk to me all the time, and sometimes went months without even interacting with me. But, it did give me impressions about my surroundings and the other orphans. This meant that I preferred talking to the little voice instead of talking to the other orphans. When the voice was silent, I would practically live in the library. The little voice had taught me to read by the time I was three. The voice also acted as my conscience of sorts, teaching me when and when I shouldn’t do something. The Voice didn’t speak to me, no, it just gave me impressions. Wrong and Right, feelings that felt like praise, and joy when I was doing things properly. These feelings helped me, and gave me something to hold unto as the Voice came and went as I got older. My social reclusiveness led me to be bullied by the other children at the orphanage. There were a few moments that stood out. The first was the week Tommy Michaels killed my pet. I had a hamster, the nun’s allowed us to keep small animals in our rooms as long as we kept their cages cleaned and fed and watered properly. Tommy was a vile child. We had never gotten along, and when I was seven, my hamster escaped. It returned to me piece by piece. His legs, one after the other. Then his torso. Day after day. Until one morning I woke up to his furry brown head on my nightstand. That morning at breakfast his smirk told me everything I needed to know. That day, in our playroom, Tommy taunted me about the death of my furry companion. I proceeded to lose my mind. It felt like a dam burst somewhere deep inside me. A wave of light surrounded my palm, and a shimmery blast of emerald light exploded out of it. Tommy was catapulted into the wall of the playroom and fractured his leg. I was sent to bed without dinner. The voice had wanted me to kill them. The next morning, I looked in the mirror. I noticed that my normally blue eyes had turned a startling bright, vibrant green overnight. When the nuns noticed, that was the first time I was locked in a closet and forced to pray for my sins. For my eighth birthday, I had my first exorcism performed on me. For Tommy’s, he got adopted. I found out after some experimentation, that I could make things happen. I could levitate and move objects with my mind. I could force someone to tell me the truth and knew when they were lying. I had learned to read early, and frequent trips to the library led me to discover and cultivate a passion for reading. I dove into the classics and the new. I was particularly drawn to fantasy novels for some reason. I knew what I could do was magic, or something similar. The voice had told me this, and it was always right. Those works of literary masterpieces, and a restless urgency from the voice, gave me an impetus to learn all I could about my new abilities. It all made sense, from a literary perspective. I was the downtrodden orphaned magic user. Voice was my version of the Blue Fairy. Of course I’d be the hero in my story. Meanwhile, as I practiced my newfound abilities, my hair changed from blond to the same emerald shade of green. The nuns took offense to this, they called me a devil, or a demon; Insisted on praying over me and forced me to learn their scriptures in hopes of drawing out the demon they swore lived in my body. It might have been a self fulfilling prophecy, but I drew special motivation for training when they screamed Exodus 22:18 in my face. My life became hours locked in a closet that was barred with planks, or chairs. Filled only with mental conversation. That was more me talking and the voice giving impressions of sadness and helplessness that only served to add to my drive to train, to become more powerful. This was how my life was for those three dark years. I’d attend the trivially easy school they had in the mornings. Then, I spent my afternoons having the bible literally pounded into my skull on a few occasions, and my evening’s were passed by sneaking out to the small green grove near the woods, experimenting with my magic or powers. I’d earned quite a few scars over the years from the nun’s tender mercies, and slowly, began to resent them and the religion they tried to literally cram down my throat. I certainly wasn’t the only orphan they did this too, but I was definitely one of their favorites. One day, I had enough of the endless lectures, of being locked away for hours, or deprived of meals for some perceived slight against their God. The Voice was urging me to get me-us out of this mess. When the nun’s decided they had enough of my “devilry.” and decided to lock me in the prayer closet overnight one evening, I turned the tables on them. I broke the ropes they had bound me with. Then I locked them in the small room where I’d spent so many hours forced to pray to a deity, I frankly had my doubts about. Usually they left me with a candle. I didn’t grant them that luxury. I forced my magic to hold the door, and then let them stew for a few hours. They stopped trying to “convert” me after that, and I was allowed to eat on a fairly regular schedule. This continued until shortly after my tenth birthday. It was Monday, and I had settled into the library. My homework was arrayed before me, and a day of pretending to care about basic sums and Latin awaited me. Some things, I instinctively knew, or the voice did. I wasn’t sure which. That was where Sister Agnes found me. She approached me as she always did, an aged leather hand clutching a wooden crucifix attached to the matching rosary in one hand. A glare on her face, and a murmured prayer on her lips. She was one of the oldest nuns at the orphanage and was convinced that I was the devil incarnate. She was one of the nuns that had led a crusade to remove the so-called demon from beneath my skin. “Good day sister, what prayer are you muttering to the false god today?” I asked with a sneer. Okay, so I’d learned to play up to the sisters. Sue me. “Stephen, there’s someone here to see you.” She said, a look of fear on her face. Her back was straight, and her posture stiff. I looked up from my compendium on Latin. That was certainly odd. I had no known associates in this life. I also knew that I was growing into the age where it would be harder for me to be adopted. I wasn’t concerned with that reality. I had my own plans for what life would entail after I aged out of this place, if not earlier. “A prospective mother.” The nun said. “Just the mother? Where's the father?” I asked. “He’s attending to other matters. You’ll only be meeting the mother today.” She replied, “come on boy, before I drag you by the ear.” She said, and I closed my book. I followed her into the office that the nuns used for administration. Mother Superior sat at the front of the desk, and seated in front of it was my prospective parental unit. I took a seat, and Sister Agnes left. The woman was dressed casually, in a dark blouse and skirt. Her hair was pulled up in a severe bun. She didn’t wear much jewelry. A string of pearls, a single diamond ring on her finger. When she turned her gaze on me, I instantly felt a tingle come across my skin. I could feel the magic practically pouring off this woman. It was the first time I’d met someone else magical, and a weight I didn’t know I carried felt like it was lifted from my shoulders. The voice was excited too. “This is the boy?” She asked. Her tone was grim. “Yes, just as you wanted, an older child, independent. Smart.” The nun said. The woman sniffed. “His hair?” “Not a clue. The boy is quite adventurous. He just showed up one morning with his hair like that. Don’t worry, he won’t be doing that again. ” The nun replied. “I should hope so.” The women remarked with a murmur. “Stephen, my name is Bethany Andrews. If you’d like, I’d like to adopt you. My husband wants a son, and I am unable to conceive.” She said. Mother Superior gasped, and I gave the matron an innocent look of curiosity. We learned quickly in the orphanage, and I admired Bethany for how blunt she was. I looked into her eyes. There was something about her gaze that seemed to pull me in. “Careful boy, you might not like what you find if you keep looking.” A voice in my head said. Her voice. I gave her a startled look, and recoiled visibly, almost knocking over my chair in the process. and she smiled softly, a knowing glint in her eyes. I nodded once, and the woman smiled. “Fantastic!” Mother Superior said elatedly. “I’m sorry you’re leaving us child, I hope you’ll carry the lessons we taught you in your new life.” I looked at the matron. “Mother, I appreciate how you’ve treated me over the years, and I hope someone will return the favor to you one day.” I replied with a too-sharp smile. She faltered for a moment before she spoke again. “Good! I’ll fill out the paperwork while you go pack your things.” She said. I nodded. I knew there had to be other people like me out there, people with magic. There always was in the books, after all. My plan was to find them after I left the orphanage. I needed to learn more about these abilities, how to use more than the paltry telekinesis than I currently had access to. I went back to my room and grabbed the few belongings that I had. I didn’t have much, a few sets of threadbare clothes. A stuffed bunny; A couple of shells from souvenirs at the beach; The one trip we had made there. I shuddered as those memories came to the forefront of my mind. Lingering hands belonging to old men who had no place touching younger boys in those places. Memories I squished down. I quickly packed it all in a rucksack and went back to the office. Bethany had finished the paperwork. She grabbed my hand, and we walked out of the front. A car was waiting for us. It was a gorgeous piece of engineering for the time, painted a shiny silver. I recognized the hood ornament, and realized this car likely cost more than the orphanage’s yearly budget. The rear doors of the car opened, and we got inside. As soon as we settled, the car roared to life and took me away from the dreary orphanage forever. Okay, so, this is actually a completed work. I’m just trying to get that ever elusive exposure. If you like this, reblog, and I’ll post the second chapter, in a week, or a year, or whenever I get back to tumblr.

[jenomark]

Chapter 2

○Pairing: College!Mark x Reader (Female)

○Other Members/ Characters: X

○Genre: fluff & a little angst

○Warnings: One of the characters dialogue tends to be a little offensive at times. It’s all things I’ve heard spoken to me, or to my friends. I kept it in because she reminds me a lot of people I’ve experienced in my life, and I draw my inspiration from shitty people like that.

○Word count: 2,005

→Summary: A new school, no friends, and a boy who unexpectedly runs into you and changes everything.

______________________________________________________________

  You had a dream of lost rings, and of boys with their mothers. You went to sleep so late after getting in that you crashed on your bed still fully clothed. You ended up wandering campus until late at night, people watching, and eating microwavable pizza all by yourself. When you arrived back at the dorm, your roommate was passed out and clutching her childhood stuffed animal. You don’t remember ever feeling so much happen at once, but your time with the boy and his letter was the most exciting thing to happen to you thus far.

  You woke up to the sound of your roommate loudly filing her nails. She sat on her bed just watching you, her eyes glazed over. When she heard you stir, she let out a deep sigh every few seconds until you looked at her.

“Do you think real love exists?” she asked.

  Having her talking to you was a breakthrough, but all you needed was two more hours of sleep. You tried rolling over, but she came over and sat at the edge of your bed.

“I don’t mean, like, love for your cat, but real, genuine love.” she said.

“You’re eighteen,” you groaned. “The only love you should have is between you and your kpop boys.”

“Don’t mock me.”

 You shoved a pillow over your head. “I’m not mocking you. I am telling you the truth.”

“You are mocking me,” she said. “I know girls like you. You’re so cynical and you think everyone hates you because you’re edgy but you’re just scared of receiving love so you refuse all of it.”

  She removed the pillow from your face and threw it onto the floor. The look on your face probably gave her enough ammo on you to last all year.

“I’m right,” she said. “Admit it.”

  Your phone was lying beside you. You picked it up and looked at it: 0 calls, 0 messages, 0 emails.

“The only thing I’ve ever loved is a plant, and I killed it because I loved it too much.” you said.

“A boy came by to see you.”

“What? What boy?” you asked.

  You lifted yourself into a sitting position, which hurt your neck. You touched your head and recalled the moments from yesterday.

“What did he look like?” 

“Asian”

“That’s racist.”

 “I’m sorry,” she said. “He was cute, in a momma’s boy kind of way. He looks like he plays baseball and loves Jesus.”

“That’s offensive.”

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m trying. Is he your boyfriend?”

“No.”

“Do you want him to be?”

“No.”

“I guess that is for the best,” she said. “Men are a disappointment.”

  You rolled out of bed and looked in the mirror. You looked liked a mess. You combed your fingers through your hair and checked yourself out. 

“Are you sure?” she said. “You’re looking a little too hard at that mirror. He probably likes what he sees edgelord.”

“Yes. I mean, no...Yes I’m sure..no I don’t want him.” you said. “What did he want, anyhow? Not that I care, because I don’t.”

“He wants you to meet him in the cafeteria at 11.” she shrugged. “If you’re going, can you please get me a fucking doughtnut this time? I’m trying to eat all of my feelings.”

  You looked at your phone and saw that it was 11:10. You ran to your little closet and picked out a new outfit, tearing your clothes off from the night before. You had never changed in front of anyone, but you didn’t let it phase you. You decided that you would really try and make an effort with your life.

“Goodbye!” she yelled as you ran out. “Stupid bitch.”

  You arrived at the cafeteria out of breath. The place was huge and far too expensive, even with a meal plan. You scanned the crowds, looking for him, but couldn’t find him. When you were getting ready to give up, you heard a sigh from behind you.

“Good afternoon,” he said.

  You turned and faced him. He looked surprisingly chipper, and nothing like the boy you met yesterday.

“You wanted to meet with me?”

“Yeah,” he said. 

  He held up your ring at eye level. When you didn’t take it, he grabbed your hand and unfolded your fingers until he saw your palm. He placed the ring in the center and closed your fist.

“I went and talked to her this morning,” he said. “I thought you should know.”

  He walked away, motioning for you to keep up with him. He stopped by the sugary doughnut case and bought two, one for you and one for him. He handed it to you and said there was no need to thank him.

“Why are you telling me this?” you asked.

“Hold this.” he said.

  He handed you a beautifully bound blue notebook. You tucked it underneath your arm as he paid for the treats. When he was finished, you kept walking.

“You seemed hurt.” he said, shrugging.

“I was hurt when you bumped into me, and that’s it.” you said. “It’s your life.”

“Either way,” he said. “I went and I apologized to her. You were right. I shouldn’t have left her a letter. I think I knew it would damage us beyond repair, and I think that is what I wanted. I realize now that maybe that wasn’t the best way to go about it.”

   You took a nibble of your doughnut and looked away from him. There was something about him that made you feel things and you didn’t like it. You didn’t know if it was because you were attracted to him, or because he made you feel comfortable.

“I’m Mark, by the way,” he said. “You don’t have to tell me your name. Your roommate already told me. You look peaceful when you’re sleeping.”

“Gross.”

  Just like that, things began to feel easier. Mark laughed, the sound loud and contagious. His whole face lit up from happiness, and it made you stop and stare a little too long.

“I have to go to class,” you said. “Thanks for the doughnut, Markie.”

  You slipped your ring back on your finger and examined it in the light. Everything seemed right. There was no angry ex-girlfriend, crisis averted. Your roommate was opening up a little, and there was a new person standing right in front of you.

“That’s a pretty ring.” he said.

“My father gave it to me,” you said. “I wear it to remind myself that men are awful.”

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

  Sitting down for class, you untucked Mark’s notebook from your arm. You hadn’t noticed it was there until you had said goodbye to him. You set it down in front of you and paid attention to your professor. All throughout the lecture, you looked down at it. Your fingertips touched the edges of the paper, the string holding it together, and his name embossed on the front.

  I could take one peek. He wouldn’t ever know. I could find out which dorm he lives in,  and return it to him while he is sleeping. He would be none the wiser. He didn’t seem that bright, anyhow.

  You pulled the string apart slowly. Paranoia set in fast. You looked at the faces all around you to make sure you didn’t have a class with him and maybe you just didn’t know it. When you felt safe, you yanked the last of the string. It was all there for the taking. Now all you had to do was open it and look inside. Chances are, it wouldn’t even be that interesting and you could erase the bad decision from your memory.

  Trust is a thin, blue line. You walked it constantly like a shaky acrobat walking the tightrope. You didn’t want to be the girl who pried into other peoples business. You knew it had something to do with your own life being dull, but that was no excuse.

“Cool book.” the person next to you said.

“Thanks.”

  You opened it up like it belonged to you. On the first page was a letter that could only be from his mother. You snapped the book shut and decided you couldn’t do it. After a few minutes, you opened it again but skipped the first page. Inside were little notes about how to fry an egg in a woman's handwriting, and little words written in the margins. Diving in deeper, you read lyrics and diary entries, saw little doodles and bucket lists. Mark was a talented writer. You wanted to read more, to really get inside of his brain, but class was ending and it was time to return the book.

   When you went to return the book, you couldn’t find him anywhere. You found out that he didn’t even live on campus, and that he hadn’t made any friends. You were hoping to bump into him, but there was no such luck.

“I can hold it while you’re gone?” your roommate said. “He might not go home over the weekend, like me. He could come looking for it.”

“That’s okay,” you said. “I’ll just bring it home with me.”

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

  In the car ride home, your mother was silent. You were hoping to convince Renjun to come back home like he was supposed to, but he wouldn’t answer his phone. You held Mark’s notebook in your lap and occasionally flipped through it. You had touched it so much that it felt like yours. You had nearly read all of it by now, too.

“ What is that?” your mother asked.

‘“A friends book. ” you said, the word ‘friend’ feeling foreign on your tongue.

“Mark?”

“That’s his name.”

“A boy?”

“Yes, mom, a boy.” you said. 

“A boy you like?”

“He’s just a boy.”

“Your father was ‘just a boy’.” she said.

  She didn’t talk about your father often. When she did, it’s like she forgot what happened for one blissfully ignorant moment. She had lived in memories since he left. The good things made her smile, old photographs of the two of the together, or an anniversary gift that meant everything to her.  After mentioning him, she always grew quiet and somber. It angered you that she would do that to herself, that she would go through a league of emotions just to stop at pity for her actions.

“Let’s just stop talking.” you said. 

  You flipped through Mark’s notebook, finding comfort in every dog-eared page. On the second from last page, you noticed a number written really small in the upper right corner. It blended in before, but now it definitely looked like a number. You brought out your phone and texted it.

You: Mark? Does this number belong to a Mark? His last name is Lee. You: Hello? I’m sorry. I’m trying to get into contact with a boy named Mark.

Him: i do know a Mark, I think.

You: Mark Lee?

Him: yes, I think so. I heard that guy is handsome.

You: I heard his mother wipes crumbs from his face.

Him: i hate you. How did you get this number? I try not to give my number out to weird girls.

You: Your notebook. You gave it to me to hold. Where have you been? I’ve tried giving it back. 

Him: Busy.

You: It’s been a whole week.

Him: A whole week of you in my life. I must be lucky.

You: Well, if you want your precious notebook, you have to come and get it.

Him: Where are you?

You: Driving home.

Him: And home is?

You: Hell.

Him: Directions. I need directions. That book is important to me.

You: Oh, right. 

Him: did you look inside of it?

Him: You’re not answering. You did. Were you sent to ruin my life?

You: I’m sorry.

Him: You could have lied.

You: I don’t lie to my friends.

  Mark didn’t text back. You put your phone down and hugged his notebook to your chest. Your mother didn’t question anything, just drove in silence.

[fidgetnano19]

The Dragon Saga

Inspired by this post from @shameless-whumper​

Cross tore into the fancy paper eagerly, forgetting to be gentle – the way Finn had with her gift. Noe opened his mouth to say something, probably some lecture about manners, but a sharp glare from Brexton stopped him. He returned his attention to the whelp, anxiously awaiting his reaction.

He lifted the stuffed animal out of the box, shooting Brexton a confused glance. “What– what is it?”

“It’s a dragon”, Brexton explained, trying not to let disappointment settle in. He watched Cross stroke its fur – turquoise, just like the boy’s hair – before looking it over thoughtfully.

“I’m next!” Maiti exclaimed beside Brexton, pulling a package out and hurrying to hand it off to Einnet.

Thankfully, this distracted the others from Cross’s lackluster response.

“I can see that, but what’s it for?”

“It’s for… Haven’t you ever had a stuffed animal before, pup?”

Cross shook his head, clearly confused by the concept. With a sigh, Brexton left his chair, claiming a spot on the sofa next to Cross. “You sleep with it”, he explained, scooping it out of Cross’s limp hands and giving it a quick hug for emphasis.

“Why?”

Brexton pressed his face into his palm, deciding that he probably should have listened to Noe and just bought Cross another blade, instead.

…

Cross climbed out of the bathtub, dripping water all along the tile floor as he stood, unsure of what to do next. It made sense, given that he’d only been to the palace once or twice before – under extraordinary circumstances, at that. “I need something to sleep in.”

Brexton spat, setting his toothbrush on the side of the sink and meeting the boy’s good eye in the mirror. “Grab one of my tunics. Second drawer on the right.” He brushed through his damp hair, collecting it into a ponytail, and remembering the other thing he’d meant to tell him. “And dry your hair before bed”, Brexton called after Cross, shaking his head as the whelp streaked out of the bathroom without a towel.

He could hear him in the next room, puttering around. By the time Brexton came out, Cross was wearing one of his shirts, the fabric practically drowning his small frame, but he still appeared to be looking for something.

Brexton caught up to him, draping a towel over his wet hair and doing his best to get him to sit still and actually use the damn thing.

Cross scrubbed at his hair for all of two seconds, then tossed the towel aside, scanning the room quietly while Brexton tugged his underpants on. “Um, Brext… have you seen that…” He spun his head when Brexton turned to look at him, but not before he could catch the sheepish expression on his face, or the way his cheeks were glowing. “The t–toy dragon. Where’d you put it?”

Brexton reached out, cupping the boy’s chin and swivelling it so he could get a better view of his face. “And here I thought you didn’t like it.”

Cross worried his bottom lip, shaking his head as much as Brexton’s grip would allow. “I never said I didn’t.”

He let go, sweeping his hand over Cross’s hair before retrieving the dragon from the end table drawer, where he’d shoved it when he thought the gift was a failure.

…

“You’ve got everything?” Brexton questioned, doing a quick once over of the room to make sure none of Cross’s meager belongings had been left behind. “You’re sure?”

“Y–yeah. I’m all packed.” Cross was halfway out the doorway, already, slinging his rucksack over his arm while he walked. “I just have to say goodbye to Finn and Noe, and then–”

A tuft of turquoise caught Brexton’s eye, poking up from beneath the blankets, and he hurried to grab it. “What about this?”

“Oh, uh… I thought maybe you could hang on to it for me?”

Brexton furrowed his eyebrows, staring down at the plush dragon, the same one Cross had clutched tightly every night for the last week. He’d bought it under the impression that the boy could use it to sleep better while he was at sea, without him around, so it made no sense to keep it there in the palace.

“You don’t want him, after all?” He flipped the toy over in his hands, frowning at its embroidered grin.

“No, it’s not… It’s just that…” Cross huffed, scrambling over to yank the toy away. “Nevermind, I’ll take him!” He hugged the dragon to his chest, heading down the hallway ahead of Brexton.

…

“You pick up Cross at the dock, and we’ll get the rooms settled.”

Brexton nodded, watching Finn and Noe walk off in the direction of the inn. It only made sense that he should go, since he was most capable of withstanding the persistant chill that filled the air, despite it being mid-spring. The others were better suited to being indoors in this type of weather.

He shoved his hands into his pockets, not that he needed the warmth, and made his way down to the harbour, where he sat on one of the rickety old docks and watched the ships come in. It was about half an hour before the Purring Wench touched land.

Cross appeared seemingly out of nowhere, running straight for Brexton, with the occasional quick check over his shoulder, back in the direction of his father’s ship. His feet were bare, and wet, but his grin was as wide as could be when he grabbed Brexton’s hand, tugging him back toward town.

“Shouldn’t you say goodbye to your father, first?”

“Nah, already did. Let’s go, I can’t wait to see everybody again!” Cross squeezed his hand tighter, holding it until they were just outside the inn.

…

“Shit!” Brexton swore as he tripped, barely catching himself before he slammed face first into the wall. “Don’t just leave your things around, you damn mutt!”

Bending to lift the whelp’s rucksack from where he’d dropped it on the floor on the way in, he spotted a burst of colour. The dragon, which had been knocked free of the bag when he kicked it, was peering up at him from halfway under the dresser.

He picked it up, running his fingers over the poorly done stitches that held it together. They were set too wide apart, with bits of white cotton visible between them.

“What’d you say?”

Brexton hardly heard him emerge from the bathroom, or as he walked over, coming to a stop next to him.

“I– I can explain that!” Cross blurted out, snatching the stuffed animal away. “I mean, it… I j–just…” He sniffled, a thin stream of tears trailing down his cheek before he swiped away at them with the back of his hand. “I tri-tried to kee–keep him safe, b–” His slender shoulders shook, the fragile words giving way to a sob.

Brexton was on his feet in an instant, wrapping an arm around Cross’s shoulders and dragging him to his chest. He held him close for a few minutes, then murmured, “You really suck at sewing.”

Cross nodded against him, chuckling nervously through his tears. “I… I know it.”

Brexton let him go, taking the dragon back. “Here, I’ll show you how to do it.” He held his hand out, then added, “Give me a knife.”

Cross dug through his trouser pockets, retrieving a pushbutton blade and handing it to him. “You’re not mad?”

“Should I be? He’ll be easy enough to fix, pup. Besides, I bought him because he reminded me of you, and now…” He reached over, tangling his finger’s through Cross’s hair, smiling when the whelp leaned into his touch. “He looks even more like you than ever.”

[theawkwardterrier]

things left behind and the things that are ahead, ch. 10

AO3 link here

Drea is the only one of his kids who Steve successfully gets into baseball. Rosie at age six tells him seriously that she has other, more important things to do than watch grownup men get excited about a ball, Em sits patiently through a couple of games that she clearly has no interest in, and Nate, when offered a chance to visit the ballpark for the first time at five years old says, "If you would be happy about it," in such a sweet, guileless way that Steve chokes up and tells him right away to forget about it. (Peggy is only too happy to have him look for someone else to bring - while she knows the rules by now and has watched a few games herself, he thinks that she'd have happily abdicated her seat to any passerby who wanted it. It's fine: she once tried to explain the rules of cricket, and he thinks he might still be comatose.)

But Drea loves it enough for all the rest of them, collecting cards, scanning the sports section each morning as the season approaches, and talking statistics like they're her second language. Nothing much has changed for her since they moved to Maryland: she has a group of boys to trade cards with, her best friends even as she enters junior high, and she's still a solid early choice in a schoolyard or street pickup game.

Steve's too cheap to shell out for Orioles season tickets - they live closer to DC, so getting to Baltimore is less convenient especially for weeknight games, but he's pretty sure that Washington loses their team sometime soon and he doesn't want his daughter getting attached and going through the same heartbreak he did - but he makes sure to take her to a few games a season, just the two of them.

It's a beautiful May Sunday, and the Orioles have just absolutely trounced Kansas City. Steve tosses their hot dog wrappers in the trash on the way out - four of his, one of Drea's - and wraps his arm around her, kissing the top of her baseball cap-covered head as they join the chattering crowd on the way back to their car.

"That was a great game," he says. "I think the O's have a good chance of making the series this year, huh?"

"I'm not very much like other girls, am I?"

It's more momentum than anything that keeps Steve walking. "What do you mean?" he asks carefully, looking down at her. The brim of her cap blocks him from seeing her face, but her shoulders hunch a little under his hand.

"I'm not like Mom," she says. "Or like Emma."

"Well that’s good, because I don't know if I could handle two Emmas. We'd never be able to finish all the desserts." Steve jokes. "And it would be a pretty big coincidence if you were like Mom." Everyone in town is used to the Carters by now, but when they had moved down from New Jersey five years ago, the variation in looks between the children and their lack of similarity to either parent had brought reactions ranging from pity to outright disdain.

"That's not what I mean." Drea starts to walk a little faster, even knowing that her dad can keep up. Her words come out in small, breathless bursts, and Steve aches a little at the bravery it is taking her just to keep speaking them. "It’s just...they know about girl stuff. Mom knows when to wear fancy gloves and pearls and it never looks weird, and Emmy just knows how to talk with other girls. They understand everything without even trying. They like this stuff. The only stuff I like is boy stuff."

"Hey," he says, pulling her to the side of the crowd so he can stop and bend to face her. He peers into the shadow beneath her ball cap, finding her jewel-dark blue eyes. "You're a girl. Anything you like is girl stuff."

She turns away from him. "Yeah, okay."

"I know that Em is a certain kind of girl—" Emma has already requested her own set of mixing bowls for Christmas. Practically the only time she wears pants is in the garden. She used to spend entire afternoons pouring “tea” for a dozen dolls and stuffed animals, signing politely to them as she sipped with an extended pinky. "But your mom put up with a lot during the war, and even now there are plenty of people who say that she isn't doing the things a woman should do. And what about Rosie? She doesn’t exactly fit into a box."

"It's different for me than it is for Rosie." That she says it simply, without a sigh or a teenage eyeroll, makes him sad. Even sadder than that: she's right. As much as he doesn't want it to be, it is different for her than it is for Rose, or Emma, or even Peggy.

"Okay," he says. "You're different than some girls. But that doesn't mean you're doing anything wrong. And I would hate for you to change the way you are or the things you love just because you felt that you had to fit in.” He tries to smile. “Besides, Bucky and the family are coming to visit over the summer and I promised them a good time, which means a trip to the ballpark with the two of us."

This time she does sigh, a tiny hiccup of not being entirely understood or at least of realizing that her father can't fix everything for her. "Yeah," she says again. "Okay."

Steve stands to his full height once again and hugs her against his side for a moment. He and Peggy have changed a lot, but there are some things even more stubborn than they are.

Tonight was supposed to be a date night with Steve, but there’s been a new FBI head for three, nearly four years now, and Peggy is only just getting around to inviting him and his wife for a collegial dinner engagement. Steve very sweetly said that he doesn't mind any of the time that he gets to spend with her, but she knows that this isn't exactly his idea of an enjoyable evening out. She'll have to remember to make it up to him.

"Which one?" she asks Drea, holding three dress options in front of herself. There's a deep, vivid scarlet number, a classic flared black, and a black and aubergine paneled silk with the tags still on.

Drea considers. "The red. Daddy likes it when you wear red."

"So he does." She strips off her robe and leaves it on the back of the chair as she slides the dress over her head, moving to the mirror to do up the last of the zip and smooth it over her hips. Peggy keeps herself fairly trim, but it's been a while since she wore this particular dress, and one never knows how things might have changed.

In the glass, she glimpses Drea, her black hair tangled and wild around her shoulders as always, her knees tented as she tucks nearly her whole narrow body into the white T-shirt she's wearing: one of Steve's undershirts, no doubt. Drea practically lives in them as it gets warmer. If it were prior to Lula-Cat's escape of the previous summer, the beast would surely be purring on the bed beside her favorite Carter, allowing herself to be petted as she got fur all over Peggy's clean pillowcases.

She is almost fourteen, Peggy realizes with a pang, and not only because her children are growing up even more quickly than she had expected. They will have another year of people plausibly believing her to be a late bloomer, perhaps not even that. She, Steve, Drea and her doctor have an appointment soon for a discussion, and Peggy makes a note to sit down Howard with as well. The little tools he's made for Emma - the vibrating clip for her swimsuit for when they go to the beach, the egg timer with its flashing lights - have been helpful, but the things he could make for Drea might be lifesaving.

As she moves to the vanity and fixes her face, traces on her vividly red lipstick with a practiced hand, thinks for a moment and adds pearl earrings and a simple crystal necklace which Steve gave her for their fifteenth anniversary, she fights to keep both the fear and calculation from her face. Drea already looks melancholy enough.

Peggy sits at the edge of the bed to put on her hose and her pumps. She is just about to get up and take in the final product when Drea says from beside her, "Mom, can you teach me how to put on makeup?"

Peggy pauses for just a moment, then asks, "What brought this on?" She allows only a tiny amount of surprise into her voice. It would be unbelievable otherwise, but the true amount of shock she feels at the question would be insulting, would drive her daughter away.

"Some girls at school are starting to use it. And I—" Her voice falters a bit, then comes back stronger, perhaps too strong, as if she's given herself a stern lecture. "I think I should also know how."

"I think you're a bit young for it, and I'm not sure that 'because everyone else is doing it' is a particularly good reason," says Peggy, continuing over the beginning of Drea's protestations. "But if that's what you truly want, I can certainly give you a lesson or two." She sighs, perhaps a bit theatrically. "Goodness knows I'd have liked for Rosie to ask before she made her first attempts."

It works. Drea laughs a little, remembering Rose's early experiments with cheap drugstore eye makeup and vending machine lip color in a particularly revolting shade of tangerine that gave her a rash.

Peggy stands, smoothing her dress one final time and going over to the closet. She takes out a handbag, and riffles through Steve's tie hanger, selecting a red one which will match her dress and coordinate well with the gray suit she had watched him put on earlier.

"Are you ready?" Drea asks, her voice a bit less dispirited than it had been a few moments earlier, and Peggy nods and moves toward her. Drea spritzes the perfume precisely, two sprays that float in the air for Peggy to walk through. She had always touched on her own scent, a bit at each wrist and at her throat, and just a drop or two on a sachet in her brassiere, but then the children had come along, and now this was a particular tradition whenever one of them helped her get ready.

"Be good for Rose," Peggy says as she leaves the room, and Drea calls back, "If she's good to me."

Rose herself is sitting sprawled out in the doorway of her bedroom, scribbling into a notebook. She is in the midst of a hard-fought campaign for presidency of the upcoming senior class, and lately seems to have decided to plop herself down whenever an idea might catch her. Her legs aren’t long, even at the end of her growth spurt, but she’s positioned herself so they stretch out into the hallway and Peggy steps over them as she passes.

"Don't forget about bedtime," she reminds her eldest, and Rose makes a vague affirmative sound before she places a firm full stop at the end of whatever sentence she is writing and, stretching, looks up at her mother.

"What did you say?"

"Bedtime," Peggy repeats firmly. "Your siblings must adhere to it. As should you. I know that school is coming to an end, but it isn’t here yet."

"Fine," Rosie says with a wave of her hand, and Peggy knows that she'll see the bedroom light snap off just as they turn up the driveway. She starts on her way again (if Rose wants to develop poor sleeping habits, that is her responsibility) but then turns back.

"And be kind to your sister," she tells Rose, dropping her voice a bit. "I think she's having a hard time."

"I can make her a Surprise," Rose suggests, and Peggy shudders, and not just because of Rosie's notoriously poor cooking skills. Drea is the only one of the children with clear memories of her birth parents - she was five when they were killed in a fire while out for their anniversary dinner. One of the things she remembers most clearly is the multitude of casseroles her birth mother made: Hamburger Surprise, Tuna Surprise, Potato Surprise... Peggy has no doubt that they were as ordinary, or perhaps as lackluster, as any example of such a dish, but Drea had built them up in her mind, built them up for Nate, who had no memories of their parents, such that she had spent her childhood requesting various types of Surprises for birthday meals or following an especially good report card.

Steve has turned into a good cook and with Emma at his side they can turn out almost anything, but a Surprise has never been Peggy’s idea of fine cuisine.

"Supper is already being taken care of," Peggy says, adding the thankfully for you only mentally. She can smell Sam's Cornbread in the oven now, can hear the airy silence downstairs, punctuated with little sounds that signify Steve refereeing a fight between Emma and Nate, likely about how much spice to add to the chili. "Just be nice to Drea."

"If she's nice to me," Rosie says, and Peggy refrains from lifting her eyes upward and asking why she had been given two daughters who were so similar and yet refused to realize it.

"Everyone's finished their schoolwork, but make sure that Nate’s book report ends up in his bag. And Emma is trying a new recipe for creamed Brussels sprouts - please tell everyone that they must at least taste it. Don’t simply take the whole pot and bury it in the garbage pail, and certainly don’t try to throw it in the woods the way you did the spinach," Peggy tells her shrewdly, but a new idea seemed to have struck and Rosie is back to her notebook again.

Peggy moves on. Rose has minded her siblings before, and Peggy doesn't want to be late to the dinner and cause an inter-agency incident; Howard would never let her hear the end of it. Besides, she and Steve will have an opportunity to discuss Drea in the car over - there comes a point where even a night away from the children is never truly away from the children.

Rosie lets Nate and Emma stay up for an extra half hour to cement herself as a Cool Older Sister. Once they're asleep, she knocks on Drea's door, barely waiting to be invited before she enters.

Drea is lying on her back on her bed, tossing a ball up and catching it.

"Be careful it doesn't hit your face," Rose says, hoping that it doesn't come out mean or bossy the way her words sometimes do when she's talking to Drea.

"It’s never happened to me before.” Drea doesn’t take her eyes off the ball. “Just because you’re still scarred from the Wiffle Ball Incident—”

“You said you wouldn’t ever mention that!” Rose comes in and closes the door all the way. “Ugh, just move over.” Drea groans as she sits up against the headboard, but she tucks her legs up to make room and Rosie takes a seat. “Look, I heard you asking Mom about makeup and stuff. Are people giving you trouble at school? Because I’ll give them a talking to if they are.”

“You’re not queen of the high school yet. No one has to just listen to you when you go blab in their face,” says Drea, jutting out her chin, although they both know that when Rosie gives someone a talking to, it not infrequently involves violence. (There had been a question about whether or not she was even allowed to run for the student council based on the number of detentions and suspensions on her record.)

“You’re my sister,” says Rose, setting her own chin. “And if someone’s making problems for you, I’ll take care of it.”

Despite herself, Drea laughs. “You sound like Jimmy Hoffa.”

“Maybe, but Mom would make sure that I covered my tracks better than he did.” Rose lies back across the bed, legs just long enough for her feet to still touch the floor. She turns her face, her hair fanned around her as she looks at Drea, curled up at the head of the bed. “You know I’m serious, right?”

“I know. But it’s not really someone in particular, it’s just...life.”

Rosie sighs. “Yeah.” She puts out her hand, and Drea scooches down to grasp it. “Life’s hard.”

Sarcasm is on the tip of Drea’s tongue - “Tell me more, oh wise one!” - but instead she stays quiet and holds her sister’s hand until their parents return.

Drea and Steve go with Bucky, Layla, and their kids to watch a blowout Orioles win during their vacation at the end of July - Drea cheers louder than anyone. In August, after they've returned from their own vacation, Peggy sits Drea down at the vanity and walks her a half dozen different beauty products, while Rose comments loudly from the bed. Just before school starts in September, Drea uses her allowance to get a flat iron and gives herself three burns learning how to use it.

The Orioles lose the Series to the Mets, and Drea starts wearing dresses for the first time since she was a child.

It won’t be any help, Steve realizes as she sits down across from him at the breakfast table, settling her skirt self-consciously, sitting up straight and crossing her ankles with awkward politeness, to remind her once more that she doesn’t need to do this. She has a good head on her shoulders, and she’s using it to process everything in the world that tells her otherwise. He remembers what Peggy has said about it, that she’ll come back to herself, she’ll come back to them, when she’s ready. So instead he says, “Hey, kid,” and when she looks up at him, he smiles and tells her, “there’s always next year, you know? Always another shot if we need it.”

And to his relief, she smiles back, the expression familiar, wild-edged and lovely, the same as it’s always been. Hello in there, he thinks.

“Yeah, Dad,” she says. “There’s always next year.”

More chapters here

[caleblovesthecoldandfall]

 A man with a shaved head stepped forward and spoke to Katherine. “Just give us the boy. You don’t want to make a scene, do you?”

I turned to Katherine and wondered what the heck was going on. Did she know them?

“Sorry boys, but I was here first,” she said.

The man’s eyebrow twitched. “I guess it’s the hard way then.”

He waved to the other men, and they closed in around us. I cringed. My knees and leg muscles locked up. I couldn’t move. The only thing standing between four burly men and me was Katherine. I had to think fast if I was going to try to protect us. I focused on the nearest guy and remembered one of Hannah’s Martial Arts 101 lectures; if I punched him in the throat I might be able to take him down.

Out of nowhere, Katherine charged towards the men. I didn’t know what she hoped to achieve. The men were twice her size. I flinched as one guy swung his fist at her face. Quicker than lightning, she ducked and did a sweeping kick. The guy fell back, his head making a sickening crunch on the pavement. She hopped to her feet and elbowed another guy in the nose. It snapped, and blood poured down his chin.  

I could only stare like this was some awesome movie. How did she move like that? How could she take those guys out like it was nothing?

Mr. Shaved Head marched up behind Katherine. “C’mere little girl.” He pulled a cheap shot by snatching her hair and wrenching her head back. She tucked her knees into her chest and used the momentum to flip onto his shoulders, and she grabbed his forehead and jaw. With a swift jerk, she snapped his neck. She jumped off as his limp body collapsed.

My heart stopped. Suddenly, this awesome movie just got real. OH-MY-GOD! OH-MY-GOD! She killed him! He’s dead! There’s a dead body lying two feet away from me! I was so distracted; I missed how she disabled the last guy. She grabbed my arm and pulled me behind her.

“Come on!” she said.

We started running. It was a good thing too because the deafening sound of a dozen guns firing pierced the air. Bullets pinged around us and glass shattered. Stupidly, I looked back.

“You killed that guy!”  

“Yeah, now hurry up!”

She was running at an Olympic pace. I couldn’t hope to match it. I was so horribly out of shape. Why didn’t I listen to Hannah?

Then a bullet ripped through part of my calf. The whole limb flared up with stinging agony. I shouted and immediately came to a stop.

Katherine shoved me behind a kiosk for cover. Shots bombarded the tiny structure. Stuffing rained down on us as the animal toys hanging from the kiosk were obliterated.

“What’s going on?! Who are those guys?! Why is everyone after me?!”  

She inspected my wound. “The bullet just grazed the surface. You’ll be fine,” she said.

She tried to peek around the corner to see who was shooting at us. She jumped back to avoid a spray of gunfire. Then she looked around trying to figure out a way to escape. She pointed to the department store attached to the end of the mall; it was the only thing standing in our way to the car.

“We can cut through there.”

“How are we supposed to—?!”

She got up and started sprinting towards the store. I did my best to follow, but my limping slowed me down. The bullets whizzing by my head made it impossible to resist screaming, only the sound that escaped resembled a squealing pig rather than a shout.

Once I saw that the department store’s doors were barred from the inside, I stopped. We’d have to go around. Yet, Katherine was still running towards them. She jumped, rammed her shoulder into the glass, tore through the bars, and landed on a pile of wreckage. I reached her as she got to her feet. She pulled a few chunks of glass out of her arms and legs. Crimson coated her hands.

“Are you okay?!”

“Keep moving!” She pushed me to start running again. My legs filled with spikes. I felt like I couldn’t take another step, let alone run.

We wove our way through the aisles. When we reached the kitchen section, the man with a broken nose popped out from behind a refrigerator. He grunted and tackled Katherine into a shelf display of frying pans. He landed a punch to her face. Disoriented, she searched blindly for a pan. She snatched one, and with a growl, she smacked it into the side of his head.

“Argh!” The man wailed and stepped back, clutching his head. Katherine didn’t hesitate to whack him again. He pulled a huge Bowie knife from his belt and jabbed at her.  

“Watch out!” I said. When she looked to see if I was alright, the knife slashed her ear in two.

“Don’t distract me!” She hissed through her teeth. I swallowed the impulsive apology as she deflected another slash.

The man backed her up against a wall of ovens. She swung for his shoulder while one of her feet pulled an oven open. When he dodged the swing of her frying pan, he exposed his neck. She grabbed his throat and pushed his head into the oven. She smashed the oven door against it. CLANG! The guy sunk to the ground.

She led the way to the exit doors. With one swipe of her magic pan, she broke the metal grate protecting the doors, and we emerged outside. The car was sitting all alone. We were in the home stretch, escape and safety were within our reach.

Halfway to the car, I heard the doors behind us open and close. I glanced back. There was one last attacker.

He’d snagged a bow from the outdoors department, but no arrows. That was pretty dumb on his part. He yelled and doubled over. For a moment, I thought he was going to throw up. I stopped to watch him in bewilderment. With each shudder, something grew on his face. It looked like clumps of wet sand. The substance secreted from his pores. I didn’t know whether to be amazed or sick.

When he looked up, a gray mask covered his face. It had two small horns on the top, two slits for nostrils, narrow angry eyes, and a frowning mouth with two fangs. It ought to have looked cheesy, but it didn’t. There was something about it that freaked me out; maybe the way it looked rotten and corrupted.

He raised the bow and drew back on the string. I saw the spot where an arrow should’ve been, spark. A bolt of lightning stretched out into an arrow shape. I blinked a couple of times. This was real, right? Not some video game I’d stumbled into?

He aimed for Katherine. She was just about to reach the car when she stopped and spun around. He released his arrow.

“No!” I cried out.

The arrow hit the ground by her feet and exploded.

The sound was deafening. A wall of air hit me hard. I fell over and scraped my elbows across the blacktop. A cloud of smoke and debris flew into my face. I stared at the dying flames where Katherine had been standing. I don’t know why I looked; I didn’t want to see another dead body—certainly not hers.

Then, miraculously, Katherine stepped through the flames. Her clothes were black and tattered, but she was unharmed. I shook my head. This wasn’t happening. There was no logical way. She should be dead.

I heard the pull of the bow string and the sizzle of the lightning as the man prepared to fire again. A hand touched my shoulder. I jolted as I saw it was Katherine. She had just been over by the car; how did she get to me so fast? Before she could help me up, another arrow came towards us.  

I yelled, turned away, and shielded my head with my arms. BOOM! The shockwave slapped my body. The temperature soared upwards. I heard what sounded like rubble hitting a stone wall.

As the explosion died off, the ground started shaking violently. I felt the pavement breaking apart causing lamp posts to snap and topple over. In the distance, I heard the man scream…then silence.

The ground became still, and I gathered the courage to open my eyes. It looked like an earthquake had struck. There was a deep chasm leading from where Katherine stood to where our assailant had been, but he was long gone. What the heck happened?!

Katherine shuffled me towards the car. We got in and surged out of the parking lot. Even though I was buckled up, I was tossed around my seat as she whipped around corners. She must’ve forgotten the car had a break.

“I’m sorry for that,” she said. “That wasn’t supposed to happen.”

“Uh, I hope not,” I said.

Her phone rang. She put it on speaker. “Commander,” said a girl with an Australian accent.

“It’s good to know you’re still awake!” Katherine said. “I shouldn’t be dodging arrows right now!” She looked into her rearview mirrors. She didn’t seem convinced that we’d escaped the danger yet.

“I’ve been watching the perimeter. I don’t know how they slipped past me.”

“How many are following?”

“Five more.”

My fingers dug into the sides of my seat.

“Follow me until we get to the safe house,” she said.

“Yes, commander.”

The phone went silent. We pulled onto the highway, speeding back towards downtown. The city lights sparkled in the distance. I felt like I was looking at a picture because there was no way I was still in the real world.

Somehow, one of my fantasies had sucked me in. There weren’t any men chasing us, no danger. Not even the girl sitting next to me was real. Any minute I’d wake up to find I’d passed out during social studies. Everything made sense now.

“Really?” Katherine said.

“What?”

“Now you don’t want to ask questions?”

“Are you going to answer them now?” I said in a hoarse voice.

She sighed. “Kind of pointless to hide it after that.”

Since it seemed like I wasn’t going to be waking up any time soon, I decided to indulge in my dream. “Why are you here? Why are those guys after me?”  

“We’re both here for the same reason.” She ignored the road and looked at me. “You.”

I grimaced as I waited for the car to start swerving into the other lanes. “W-why?”

“Well, I came here to recruit you for my squad. They came to stop me,” she said. “You see, I’m a part of an ancient organization made up of people who can do extraordinary things—things most people believe are impossible. It’s my job to find other special people and teach them how to harness their gifts to help protect the world.”

“So…you’re from the X-men?”

She rolled her eyes. “The X-men aren’t real.”  

My face lost all expression. “Wait, are you trying to say I have powers?”

“I know it’s hard—”

“I don’t have powers.”

Her hands gripped the wheel so tightly I could hear it straining. “Fine, you think you don’t? Tell me, have you ever been burned a day in your life? Maybe by—I dunno—hot water, toast, or the sun?”  

I snickered. “No, I’m more careful than that.”

“Sure, maybe now, but what about when you were a kid? You can’t tell me you never forgot to blow on your food. I bet you don’t even know what a burn feels like,” she said.

“Sure I do!” My mouth hung open for a minute as I searched for the right words. “It, uh, hurts,” I said.

She arched a skeptical eyebrow at me. “Our abilities start small. They can be easily overlooked, or written off as nothing. People like us could go our whole lives not knowing.”

I raked through my brain to try to find any proof that she was wrong. But my mind drew a blank. That doesn’t mean anything, I thought. I was overwhelmed by everything else going on, of course I couldn’t remember something small like that. Still, I wanted to get the subject off of me.  

“What is this organization anyway? Do you guys have a name for yourselves?”

She bit her lip. “I was hoping you wouldn’t ask that.” She fidgeted in her seat. “You’re going to think I’m ridiculous.”

“Come on, tell me.”

“Okay, I…I’m a…ninja,” she said.

I waited for her to tell me the actual name. When she didn’t, a smile started twisting its way onto my face. I slapped a hand to my forehead and laughed.

Her shoulders fell. “I told you you’d think it was ridiculous.”

No wonder none of this seemed real. Some rich girl had pulled off the most elaborate prank of all time. I was relieved to know I still had my sanity. I was awake, and I didn’t imagine things. I struggled to stop my laughter, but the smile wasn’t going anywhere.

“A ninja?” I said. “I’m really supposed to believe that? Where’s your sword? Aren’t you supposed to be in a black outfit with a mask?”

“Well, my sword is…” her eyes trailed to the narrow space behind the seats, where something wrapped in a jacket rested, “And my mask is in my pocket.”

She was going out of her way to pull off this hoax. “You’re serious about this?”

“Yes, I am,” she said.

VROOM!!! A powerful engine blasted away the silence. We both looked at the side-view mirrors to see that coming up behind us was a rusty old Camaro. The other cars behind us did their best to get out of the way. They probably thought a couple of teenagers were out for a joy ride. Even though I didn’t think it was anything more than that either, I felt uneasy. Driving around like this was still dangerous.

“Alright, you got me pretty good,” I said. “You and your friends can upload the best video the internet has ever seen. But seriously, I don’t think you can keep squeezing more reactions out of me. Can you slow down and take me home?”

“What’s it going to take for you to believe me?” She shook her head. She forced the car to its limits. We went left and right around the cars in front of us.

“I don’t know. I’m not even sure I’m awake right now,” I said.

She searched the highway. “Where is she?” she whispered to herself.

In front of us, a row of sluggish cars blocked all of the lanes. She sped straight for them like she didn’t see them. I felt my heart jump into my throat. She drove into the constricted space of the emergency lane. We were so close to the median and the cars next to us; the side-view mirrors sparked.

Downtown loomed closer. I could make out the black towers against the sky. The exit for my neighborhood came and went. Where was she taking me?

I looked back, and the Camaro was only three car lengths away. Out of nowhere, a Jeep came screeching up through traffic and struck the passenger side of the Camaro, throwing it up against the median. I heard a crunch and saw a fountain of sparks light up the night behind us.

“Finally,” Katherine sighed.

I wondered how long she was going to try to stretch this prank out. Then I figured I should just go along with it. When it was over, she’d leave me and go back to her life. My stomach lurched. I watched the cars behind us with little enthusiasm.

The Camaro rammed into the Jeep until it swerved and spun away wildly. The Camaro was no longer trapped. The Jeep tried to catch up, but the Camaro pounded into a minivan, causing it to skid sideways before rolling and smashing into the Jeep.

The other drivers on the highway freaked out and hit their breaks. A symphony of crashing and breaking glass broke out. The Jeep that had tried to protect us was stuck somewhere in the wreckage.

“You guys are going to hurt someone!” I said. The Camaro crept closer. I worried about what stunt they were going to pull next.

My body couldn’t tell the difference between real danger and fake. I started going into overdrive. I felt my skin get warm. The moisture on my eyes evaporated to the point where my eyelids felt like sandpaper every time I blinked. Sweat broke out on my forehead, and nausea hit me. I leaned against the window and clutched my shirt.

“You okay?” Katherine asked. I shook my head, which only made my dizziness worse. She put her hand on my forehead. The second she touched me, she jerked away like she had gotten burned. “Here, that’ll help.”

She offered me a thermos. I opened it, expecting water, but was pleasantly surprised to find a cold cherry flavored slushy inside. My innards were so hot that I swore the slushy turned to steam the second it started going down, but not before it gave me a bit of relief. Unfortunately, my eyes were still waterless and scratchy.

“Sorry, I get overheated a lot.” I wiped the sweat from my brow.

“Mmhmm, and you think you’re normal.”

“Hot flashes don’t mean I have some kind of powers,” I said and tried not to laugh.  

“How bad have you’re ‘hot flashes’ gotten?”

“I don’t know. Sometimes I just get hot, other times it’s a fever. I have to go to the hospital all the time…” I said. Yeah, I started to notice that wasn’t normal. “It’s because I’m chubby, though. They told me to lay off the spicy food, and I didn’t.”

“Seriously, what is it going to take?” Her attention pulled back to the mess behind us. The Camaro was bashing and crashing its way towards us, causing flips and collisions. “They’re getting too close.” Deciding to take action, she unbuckled her seatbelt. “Take the wheel.”

“What?! I don’t even know how to drive!” I said. She let go of the wheel. The car started to drift. She made no effort to control the vehicle. I was forced to take the wheel. “What are you doing?!”

“Getting rid of the problem.”

She rolled her window down and climbed on top of the car. I was starting to question her sanity. We were driving over two hundred miles per hour, and she was trying to ride on the roof?! With lots of effort, I got into the driver’s seat.

My mom had given me a few lessons on driving. The first time was in a golf cart—which I crashed into a wall. The second time she let me use the car, I bulldozed through our neighbor’s trash cans. After that, I decided maybe it wasn’t my time to drive.

I tried to keep my hands steady on the wheel. Just keep it in a straight line. Easy on the break and slow down. Definitely, slow down, I thought.

The moment I eased off of the gas, the Camaro came up beside us. I heard a thud overhead. I saw Katherine leap across two lanes and land perfectly on the Camaro. Her hands slapped down on the top of the roof and ripped it off. It went flying backward and pierced another car’s engine.

“What the…” I said. Okay, she couldn’t just jump two lanes without some wire. And if that roof was fake stuff it couldn’t bust up another car. Maybe she wasn’t pranking me.

She dropped into the car and attacked the driver. The Camaro fell behind. I realized I ought to be watching where I was going. But when I looked in front of me, the highway was empty. Even on the opposite side, there was no traffic. I slowed down and stopped for a minute.

How was that possible? There was a ton of wreckage behind me. Surely, someone would’ve called for help? Where were the police? The news helicopters?

“I got you now, kid,” a voice said. I looked to the passenger side window. One of the masked guys was about to open the door.

“AH!!” I hollered. All I could remember was one maneuver I saw in a video game once. I threw the wheel to the right, hit the gas, and the tires screeched. The car whipped sideways, violently running the guy over. I took off, going back down the highway, in the wrong direction.  “CRAP! CRAP! CRAP!” I kept looking back. I hoped no one was coming for me.

I spotted the Camaro upside down. Two masked guys were lying dead on the road. Not too far from them, Katherine was lying motionless. I stomped on the break, threw the door open, and sprinted to her.

I fell onto my knees beside her. She was sprawled out like an X, bits of glass surrounding her. Blood and grime dotted her shirt. The pavement had shredded the fabric. Her skin had a bad case of road burn too, but there were no deep wounds. She twitched, and one of her eyes cracked open.

She groaned. “I’m fine.”  

“You don’t look fine,” I said. “We need to take you to the hospital—”

“Hospital…smoshpital…” She coughed. “I’ll heal.” She started to sit up, but cried out and flopped back down. I heard her grinding her teeth as she trembled. She forced herself to take deep breaths. “Ow…ow…”  

“I’m taking you whether you like it or—”

“You’re not taking me to the hospital!” she said as she scowled at me. After seeing the damage she’d done to the other guys, I wasn’t going to risk making her mad.

I squeaked. “Okay.”

She laughed then hissed and reached for her ribs. “Ow…don’t make me laugh.” Her eyes screwed shut. “I think I cracked a rib. I need ice, lots of ice.” She looked down the highway. “We have to get out of here, one of them got away from me.”

“Oh, um, I think I hit him with the car,” I said. “Do you need some help?”

She looked at me like I’d somehow misplaced my brain. “No, I’ll just crawl back to my car.”

I smiled and tried to figure out the best way to move her. I slid one arm below her neck and the other underneath her knees. I stood up, wavering a second and tried to get my balance. At most, she weighed a hundred and fifteen pounds, but it felt like three hundred for a guy who never lifted a weight in his life. I struggled to mask my heavy breathing and tried to put on a manly face. She kept looking at me with an entertained expression.

“What?” I gasped.

“You didn’t have to try to carry me,” she said. “I can still walk.”

“You cracked your rib. No, you can’t,” I said. The strain was starting to fill my voice. “Besides…you weigh like…two ounces?”

She fought back a giggle. “Just put me in the driver’s seat. I don’t want you to drive my car into any trash bins.”

“You know about that?” I asked as I set her down in the seat. My muscles screamed at me to drop her, but I fought the pain.

“I told you. I know everything.”

READ THE BOOK HERE!

Copyright 2018 Caleb Karger

Do not steal. Do not alter text.

[fandom-imagines-stories]

Bound By Blood  2 Coming Out of My Cage

Chapters: One

Word count: 2289

“Sorry, didn’t see you there,” I laughed until I realized who the boy was. “Thanks.” I said nervously, the blonde boy handing me my books. “You’re… Jasper, right?” He nodded, but looked uncomfortable. He was so still I could have mistaken him for a statue and he looked at me with such intensity I stepped back. A petite brunette stepped between us.

“You’ll have to excuse him,  he’s not feeling well.” Alice chirped, taking Jasper’s hand and giving him a reassuring smile before grinning smiling brightly at me. “I’m Alice.”

“I know- I mean, we have a few classes together.” I mentally slapped myself.

“You’re Veronica!” She exclaimed. Jasper smiled lovingly at her enthusiastic nature and looked at her like she was the only girl on earth. “You’re the one with those amazing sketches of the mountains on your notebooks.”

“That’s me.” I blushed. I didn’t think anyone noticed my drawings. The bell rang.

“I’ll see you in English!” Alice smiled and the two of them went to class.

“Oh. My. God.” Kate exclaimed. “You just rammed into Jasper Hale.”

“I know.” I muttered breathlessly. Both of their eyes were black- no, no they weren’t, it was just the lighting… I think.

“And Alice Cullen actually talked to you.” She gasped.

“I know. Bella’s moving to Forks, a Cullen actually spoke to me, the world’s going mad.” The three of us laughed and ran to class. Every class was more uneventful than the last, then again, I loathed every one except for English, where Alice sat next to me and we talked about our favorite books. Her eyes were still dark and cold, despite her warm and friendly demeanor.

“I’m a bit of a romantic.” I admitted as the teacher started his lecture.

“Me too. There’s just something about true love that just makes every book worth reading.” She beamed with a thoughtful sigh. I thought back to the way Jasper looked at her, silently wishing I had someone to look at me like that. Someone like Jacob.  I quickly shook my head of the idea.

Lunch was even more awkward than yesterday, with almost all of the Cullen’s casting glances at our table, Edward being the most often. I was officially annoyed.

“God, why can’t he just leave me alone?” I thought and immediately he turned his head away. Quickly after that, him and his family gracefully walked out of the cafeteria. I shivered, beginning to believe Kate. Something was definitely up with them.

Biology was the only class I had with Edward and he avoided my hard gaze, so I took the seat next to him. I was determined to know what his problem was. But every time I opened my mouth, the words were stuck in my throat.

“Sit somewhere else.” A voice hissed through my mind.

“Excuse me?” I whispered angrily at him. He looked at me with fierce curiosity. Then I realized  he didn’t say it out loud. We stared at each other and I found interest, and maybe even fear in his eyes. “What the hell?” The bell rang and he quickly stood up and stormed out of the room.

“Hey!” I shouted, chasing after him through the hallway now flooding with students. “Edward wait!” Ben stepped in front of me.

“Okay, so Kate thinks that I’m crazy, but I’ve been thinking about asking Jessica to the Prom.”

“That isn’t for another like three months.” Kate interrupted. I tried to push past the two of them, looking over Ben’s shoulder, but Edward had disappeared. I groaned and glared at my best friends.

“I was trying to talk to someone.” I said through gritted teeth. Kate rolled her eyes.

“Edward?” She scoffed. “That’s why you were chasing him.”

“Guys, can we please talk about something actually important, like my prom date or lack thereof?” Ben whined. He’d been in love with Jessica Stanley for the past five years of our lives, and he hasn’t let us forget it.

“She wants to go with Mike, you know that right?” I crossed my arms, giving up on finding Edward.

“You don’t know that.” Ben snapped. Kate and I pointedly looked at Jessica and her friends. Jess was walking so close to Mike, it was hard to see where she ended and he started. We both turned back to Ben. His shoulders sagged a little. “I’ve heard he’s gay.” He muttered.

“Keep dreaming my friend.” Kate sighed, patting him on the shoulder dramatically. “Speaking of evil forest creatures-” Ben scowled, “I can���t make it  this weekend. My mom says I have to visit my aunt in Seattle for her birthday.”

“Kate!” I moaned, “You know Charlie won’t like me going camping with a bunch of teenage guys, even if he does know them.”

“Make that one less teenage guy,” Ben grimaced.

“Seriously?” I griped.

“Yup. Dad says he actually wants to spend some quality time with me this weekend and take me to a baseball game.”

“So you’re both just gonna ditch me?” They both wrapped their arms around my shoulder as I pouted.

After school, I dropped Kate off at her house and nervously drove back to mine, hoping that dad wasn't back yet.  But sure enough, when I turned the corner, the sheriff’s car was in the driveway. I slammed the car door behind me, but my feet wouldn’t take another step.

“She’s just my sister. The one that  Renee wanted. But that’s not her fault, even if she is a brat for deciding Forks wasn’t good enough.” I mumbled. “Until now.” I took a few deep breaths and realized that I was stalling. I summoned all of my courage and marched into the house, finding dad sitting on the couch.

“Hey.” He greeted, looking up from the baseball game  on TV. “Bell’s upstairs in your guys’ room.” I sat down next to him, pretending to be interested in the game. He raised his eyebrow. “Aren’t you gonna go see her?” He wondered.

“Oh- yeah.” I stood up, but slowly made my way up the stairs. When I entered my room, I saw a laptop on my desk and an almost mirror image of me looking through my sketch book. I guess we looked more alike than I thought. “What are you doing?” I asked and she jumped, dropping my drawings on the floor.

“God, you scared me.” Bella bent over and picked up my sketches and I took them from her, putting them on the shelf. “You-you’re really good.” She muttered.

“Thanks.” I said skeptically. “Why were you going through my stuff?”

“I was unpacking and I saw the book and I opened it-” She stumbled.

“Forget it, it’s no big deal.”  I sat down on my bed and she sat down on hers. Neither of us said a word. “How’s Renee?” I wondered, breaking the silence.

“She’s good, happy…” Bella’s voice trailed off. My phone buzzed and I looked down at a text from Jake.

The me and the guys are packing up for the trip. Don’t forget the tent.

I groaned, smacking my forehead.

“What is it?” Bella asked.

“Jake and I go on a camping trip with a few friends few times a year. I was supposed to get a new tent since the other one tore with all the snow.” I stood up, grabbing my keys.

“Do you want me to come?”

“You want to?” I scoffed. “The store isn’t exactly a tourist attraction. Plus, I was planning to just head over to the rez afterwards.”

“Sure.I should get used to getting around.”  I shrugged and she followed me downstairs.

“You two have to promise not to do the clothes changing thing you used to do when you were little. I’m going to have enough trouble telling you apart as it is.” Dad chuckled as the two of us came down the stairs.

“We don’t look that much alike.” Bella and I responded at the same time.

“No saying stuff at the same time either. It’s just creepy.”

“Sorry.” We said again.

“I’m serious!” Dad laughed, and I joined him. Bella just stood there awkwardly. “Why don’t you two go down to the rez and see Jake. I’m sure he’d be excited to see you again Bell.”

“We’re actually heading over there now after I get some stuff for tonight.” I said, stealing some popcorn from the bowl in his lap.

“Actually Vee, I don’t think it’s a good idea for you guys to go on this trip.” Dad stood in front of us.

“Dad, we only go three times a year.” I whined.

“I know, but there was an animal attack and I don’t want anything-”

“There’s gonna be four of us, we’ll be fine. Plus, you know that Jake won’t let anything happen.”

“Wait, four?

“Ben and Kate can’t make it.” I sighed. “But it’ll be fine. I’ll have Quil and Embry, and Jake. It’s not like I’m going by myself.”

“Fine!” He threw his hands up in defeat. “But I want Bella to go with you. You should introduce her to your friends. Besides, I don’t want you in the middle of the woods with three guys.”

“I don’t really-” Bella started.

“Fine, she can come.” I huffed.

“No, really it’s okay. I-” I dragged Bella out the door before she could finish. The drive to Newton’s Olympic Outfitters was silent besides the barely audible drone of the radio. It talked about the animal attack and how there was one person dead. I shuttered.

“Guess dad was right.” I said, but Bella just stared out the window.  We went inside and I groaned as soon as I saw who was working the register.

“Veronika!” Mike called, stopping dead when he saw Bella. “Um…”

“I have twin.” I muttered, looking around for a decent sized tent.

“I knew that.” He lied, leaning against a rack of skies and knocking them over.  I rolled my eyes and picked up the tent, trying to ignore Mike’s stares at my chest, as well as Bella’s as I paid.

“He seems… nice.” Bella said once we got back in the truck.

“If you like stuck up perverts, then he is the one for you.” I scoffed. I pulled out of the parking lot and started the drive to the reservation. After a while, I couldn’t bare the silence anymore. “What do you think of Forks? Think you can survive without the sun?”

“It’s small and cold… but I think I’ll live.” To my surprise, she actually smiled.

“There it is. There’s the grin I’ve been looking for.” I laughed and she rolled her eyes, but laughed as well.  With her in the car, the drive to the rez seemed shorter, time passing quickly as we talked about everything from movies to bands.

Jake, Embry, and Quil were outside, stuffing food into bags. I hopped out of the truck first, Embry and Quil attacking me with a crushing hug.

“Guys, come one, you’re embarrassing me.” I joked, shoving the off. Bella closed the car door and their eyes went wide.

“‘Bella?” Jake exclaimed.

“Bella who- who’s Bella?” Embry asked, him and Quil looking desperately confused.

“This is my sister.”

“Woah… you two look exactly-” Quil started, but I cut him off.

“We really don’t.”

“Have you looked in the mirror Vee. You two are identical.” Jake added, wrapping his arms around Bella. She looked extremely uncomfortable. He pulled away and threw a bag in the back of the truck. “Well, we already packed a ton of food and our clothes.”

“Bell and I will have to pick ours up after dinner.” Bella gave me a look so I clarified. “The guys and I always grab a bite at the diner before we leave.”

“What are we waiting for?” Embry exclaimed, hopping in the truck bed. “I’m starving let’s go!” I helped Jake put the rest of the stuff in the back before the five of us headed out, the three guys sitting and hollering in the back.

For dinner everyone had a round of burgers and fries and the guys teased Bella for being so pale.

“Sorry Bella, Veronica already has the award for whitest person in town.” Embry teased and I smacked the back of his head. We we all got ice cream and pie and then we drove back to the house so Bell and I could get our clothes while dad threatened the guys in case they got any ideas.

“Is he always like this?” Bella wondered as dad clicked on of his shotguns into place, trying to act tough and scary.

“Yeah, but he doesn’t mean anything by it.” We went upstairs and grabbed what we needed.

“Remember, I know exactly how to tell whether or not someone has been drinking, so keep it sober.” Dad warned.

“I’m the older one dad, if anyone’s the bad influence, it’s me.” I joked, lightly kissing his cheek. Bella gave him an awkward side hug.

“I’ll see you guys on Sunday. Don’t be late.”

“We won’t.” I promised, following Jake outside. “Surprise piggy back ride- go!” I shouted, jumping on his back. He carried me to the truck before setting me down so I could drive. Bella got in the passenger seat, looking nervous. “You’re not much of a camper, are you.” She shook her head and I laughed. “Don’t worry, the only thing out there is bears, and they usually don’t attack groups. If it makes you feel better, you can carry the bear spray.” One of the guys shouted and she jumped, causing me to snicker. “Trust me, nothing happens in this town.” That’s why mom left. I added in my head before starting the drive into the forest.

[lovetnaomi]

Secrets of the Dusk Chapter 13

Chapter 13

                 Uraraka glanced down towards his hand, unsteady, but the smile of a friend decorating his face. She smiled, taking his hand, but taking the lead, “I may be a princess in your eyes, but I have the heart of a warrior.”  She pulled him forwards into the carnival with that warrior’s strength. 

Uraraka glanced around at the stalls, the hesitation in her heart. It was fine. This was a carnival. It was supposed to be fun. The change was still in her purse from the last time she attempted to go to a festival. Her mind beginning to wander towards the last time she had attempted a carnival, pulling closer to Todoroki. She glanced towards Todoroki not seeming to mind her clinging to his arm. She could feel the bandages wrapped around his abdomen. He hadn’t been bleeding when she found him, but they must’ve done something internally. A small frown formed on her face.

               “Hey, what’s wrong?”

               “It’s nothing, just stay close to me?” She shrugged, glancing away, hoping that he wouldn’t be able to tell the reasoning of her fading smile. They were out here to have fun, she couldn’t let her worries get to her. Todoroki glanced around each stall, ride, or attraction, his eyes slowly drifting back to her. “What’s the matter?”

               “I was looking for something that might seem the most normal for a human.”

               “You don’t have to worry about that. Besides, I’d like to see what you considered normal growing up.”

               Todoroki glanced towards the side, then back towards her. “Honestly, growing up…most of my life was spent focusing on controlling my powers. My dad….there was a territory dispute and he didn’t want us to lose.” His hand moved to his neck as he attempted to resist glancing away from her, “We didn’t come here much. My mom brought us once, but with a bodyguard that didn’t leave our side, so it wasn’t really…fun.” Uraraka nodded as Todoroki’s eyes slid to above her head before beginning to move, “I know a good start though.”

               Uraraka glanced towards him as he pulled her along the streets containing barely enough people to consider a crowd and enough to keep the streets from forming an eerie atmosphere of being empty. The leaves softly crunched under his feet as he moved forwards. Uraraka glanced up towards something totally normal-totally human. A Ferris Wheel. Uraraka’s heels clicked against the metal of the ride, sliding into the seat next to Todoroki, as he leaned over the window towards the viewing of the rest of the carnival. She followed his eyes, Hawks impossible to miss with his brilliant red wings, spinning Fuyumi throughout the streets. The cart moved rotating them into the sky. Uraraka glanced towards him as Todoroki instinctively moved closer, “You know you’re not going to fall.” She smiled.

               Todoroki shook his head, “I should be comforting you, not the other way around.” His eyes slid down towards Hawks spinning Fuyumi in the streets, laughter still radiating from her. “Did you want to do that?”

               “You want to spin in this cart? Where you just moved closer to me?”

               Todoroki scoffed, holding out his hand, “I’m not scared.”

               “Alright, if you say so.” She smiled, slipping her hand into his own. He pulled her hand, dragging her into the center of the cart. The cart swinging in the wind as he rotated her around. She pulled closer to him, attempting to watch her steps and the swinging of the cart.

               “I thought you wanted to go to space and you’re scared of being this high up?” Laughter escaped him.

               “Gravity is still down here you know!” She attempted to yell over the wind, laughter blooming from her instead. “I’m guessing you came up here to find something to do?”

               “I wanted to start with something that was most similar to the human experience.”

               “I said I want to get to know you, just take me wherever you would want to go. It’s an experience we share together.”

               Todoroki nodded, his eyes gazing the world below him as if it was the first time, he had seen its existence.

               “It’s nice when everything’s put in a new light.” She smiled; the world seemed so much more joyful than she was told it was. She eyed the horizon the moon nearing the ending of its waning phase, she was sure that Katsuki wouldn’t be able to take being trapped in that house much longer. He wanted out so badly, she could remember trekking to the bathroom in the middle of the night, seeing a door open only to peer in to see Katsuki surrounded by books running his hands aggravatedly through his hair. He didn’t want them to see his weakness. He wouldn’t ask to rely on them. Would it embarrass him to tell him that they were hunting a way to help him? Would that imply he was helpless? Trapped in a house that seemed to become smaller to him with each passing day.

               “He’s not going to be able to take it much longer.”

               Uraraka glanced back towards Todoroki, “We’ll figure it out, we’ve all been working hard on trying to find answers. We’ll find them.”

               They moved back to their seats, “How are you doing on Katsuki’s murder case?”

               “It’s going alright, but I feel like we keep hitting snags. I did say I was going to do an interview with the officer that oversaw the case.”

               “Did you need help finding him?”

               “No, while you were sleeping, I managed to schedule an interview, he said he’d collect the paperwork and we’d meet in a couple of days.”

               Todoroki nodded, a distant look in eyes, as though he were feeling that he was missing some vital piece of information or that he had missed something. “Be careful. We don’t know who was involved or what happened.” He paused, glancing the streets over, “vampires have a hierarchy, they tend to come back for those they created.”

               Uraraka nodded, glancing back towards him, “He’s already established a home, what purpose would they have to take him?”

               “Either they make him part of their own coven or hierarchy, or they kill him. It ensures there’s no liability to the coven.”

               Uraraka nodded, glancing towards the crowd. She wasn’t sure how strong Katsuki was, but that likely didn’t give her a good idea of what it would be like to fight off a vampire. She wouldn’t let them take him against his will or kill him. He was family now. Her hand tightened on the jewelry. It wouldn’t be easy. She would just have to hope it was just one or two people and they wouldn’t have to fight off whatever numbers a whole coven consisted of.

               Todoroki leaned his head against the window, “I’ve told you before, the type of being I am….we’re greedy. I’m not going to let them take him. I’m a demon just as much as I’m human, they’re two creatures known for their greed. Only a fool would steal from such a creature.”

               “And if they are fools?”

               “I’ve got claws for a reason.”

               Uraraka nodded, “I’m glad you understand how greedy humans can be too. Don’t expect me to sit on the sidelines.”

               “I know. Do your best to get him out of there. Although, it’s going to be a fight.”

               “You don’t understand. I want to protect him, but not just him. You’re both family. The thing about relationships, they’re a two-way street. It��s not a give and take like most want you to think, it’s about putting yourself in the other’s shoes, the thing about families is it’s a messy time, struggling to understand each other, being comfortable enough to argue with one another without worrying that you’ll never speak again, having each other’s backs-“ Uraraka’s face heated as she glanced towards her shoes, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be the one lecturing on how families work at the moment.”

               A laugh that could’ve almost been mistaken for a scoff it was so light escaped Todoroki, ”Guess a family can be a half-demon, a vampire, and a possible witch.”

               Uraraka laughed, patting him on the back as they exited the cart, “There we go.”

               The night continued on as they pulled each other from ride to ride as though they were in high school all over again, enjoying the atmosphere without any other care in the world, the way an amusement park was intended to be. Uraraka slid back into the car, pushing the stuffed animals they had won between them, and glancing towards Todoroki a pleased smile on his face and a look in his eyes that he was ready to go back. “When Katsuki is able to get out of the house let’s bring him here.”

               Todoroki nodded, moving one of the stuffed animals into his arms, “That would be a good idea.”

               Hawks started the car soft laughter coming off of him, “You’ll have to introduce me to your friend sometime. Keep me in the loop on how that vampire research is going.”

               Todoroki turned to Hawks, “If I’m honest….I’m kind of relieved about that it wasn’t my fault he was trapped in the house. But I also feel guilty, because the answer to help him would’ve been so simple.”

               Uraraka glanced towards him, one of their prizes in her lap, “I think he wouldn’t have settled with that as the answer. He would’ve kept looking. Honestly, he probably would’ve understood that as you calling him weak. There are times when each person is weak. And I don’t think he really feels safe showing anyone his weakness.”

               Todoroki nodded, “That makes sense. Should we tell him?”

               Hawks glanced in the mirror, “What if he doesn’t have any psychic energy at all?” His eyes moved to Fuyumi, “Is there a way to build it up so he’s able to leave the house?”

               Fuyumi glanced towards him, “I don’t know. And if the amount of psychic energy isn’t the problem, he builds up the psychic energy and drops it while outside we might be risking his life. Honestly, while harder we should probably hope he got cursed or something. Without knowing the circumstances of the curse at this point it sounds a lot safer and easier to break the curse. There would be less of a backlash.”

               Todoroki nodded as Hawks swerved, the house beginning to come into view on the horizon, “I’ve got a couple of connections that might be able to help you out, I’ll let you know if I get ahold of any good information that might help.”

               “That would be appreciated.”

               Hawks parked the car.

               They waved good-bye to each other before turning to Todoroki’s car, miraculously already packed with their belongings. Todoroki let out a soft smile, “It must’ve been Natsuo, he tries to avoid this place, but I feel like he feels that he wasn’t able to be a decent elder brother. He does things like this. But they’re always sly things that I never see him for.”

               “Did you want to go in and say good-bye?”

               “He’s probably long gone back to his college.”

               Todoroki pulled the car keys out of his pocket, as Uraraka threw the stuffed animals into the back, “Guess it’s my turn to drive.”

               “Sure, you don’t want me to try wrecking it part three?”

               Todoroki shook his head, “I don’t think I’d mind, but tonight, I’d rather get home in one piece.”

               Uraraka laughed, sliding into the passenger seat, “Alright, I mean me trying to wreck the car didn’t end too poorly either yet though.”

               Todoroki nodded, sliding another case into the back.

               “What’s that?”

               His eyes darted to the side, his voice quieting, “It’s something from Fuyumi.”  

               Uraraka nodded, trying not to eye the bandages barely being contained in the bag, and a bottle that looked like medication. He was trying to hide whatever it was because it was her fault that he got hurt in the first place. Todoroki slid into the driver seat, giving a soft wave to his sister and her new boyfriend, the conversation shift into soft conversation between favorite colors and birthdays and who could count the most cars in each color on their way home. It wasn’t long until Todoroki pulled into the driveway of their home. They shuffled the bags into the doorway. Uraraka glanced towards Todoroki going back to the car, then back into the house, the atmosphere of the house not feeling quite right. The lights were all out and each of the doors were opened. The usually prim and properly taken care of household was trashed. No noise came from the kitchen. Uraraka found her hand moving for the knife that was on the counter. If it wasn’t Katsuki for Todoroki to not notice their presence it must’ve been a weak one. But if it was Katsuki what had happened? “Katsuki?” She whispered, knowing that he was completely able to hear her, wherever he was in the house. “Katsuki?” She kept her steps so to the point Todoroki wouldn’t have even noticed her movement throughout the house, following the trail of the mess, her muscles relaxing when she opened the door to find Katsuki buried in the books once again.

               “Hey, we’re back.”

               His red eyes flared up and he was in front of her without a second pause, a growl rumbled from deep in his throat, “What happened?”

               Heat flared up her face, Uraraka glanced down, shame filling her chest. Katsuki might not take what had happened with as much grace as Todoroki had taken it. Her parents were a literal danger to all of their lives. Especially, since they knew of the existence of supernaturals, and the first thing they tried to do, the minute she brought one home was to kill him. Her voice cracked, “I-“ Heat rising up her face further. There was no other way to explain it to him, but she couldn’t hide that they had attacked Todoroki. “My parents….they attacked Todoroki.”

               Katsuki’s eyes flared, fire swirling in it, but he was calm, his arms crossing, “Where is he?”

               “I’m here.” Todoroki set the bag down outside the door, “I didn’t grab you anything while we were out.”

               “Clearly, you all went to a human house,” his eyes flickered towards Uraraka, “From my understanding, it didn’t go well.”

               “I’m sorry. I’ll go finish unpacking the car.” Uraraka whispered, moving herself to the other room.

               Todoroki slid the bag into the room, a slight wheeze escaping him, as the pulse echoed on his chest, shutting the door behind him. Katuski glanced down to him, his eyes widening, “What happened?” He growled leaning down next to him.

               “It’s not that bad, it wasn’t anything.” Todoroki gasped, putting pressure onto his side, pushing the door closed behind him as he slid into the wall, further away from the door. “Go cook dinner, tell Uraraka that I’m just researching something in the library and will be out a little bit.”

               Katsuki sighed, kicking open the bag he brought in with him, band-aids, ointments, and remedies falling out of the bag. “Fine, my ass.” He glanced down towards Todoroki, blood dripping through his shirt.

               “It was supposed to last longer. At least until tonight.”

               “Then what? We’re you going to drip around the house. What did you expect? What happened?”

               “Her parents…they hired very competent exorcists. Fuyumi hasn’t been able to do much for me. I think she’s worried we left too soon, they had a diversion to attempt to get us from leaving, but…” Todoroki’s eyes lingered towards him.

               “I see.” Katsuki sighed, pushing himself back up, “Move to your room, I’m telling her you went to bed. I’ll be in, in a few minutes.”

               Todoroki nodded, pushing pressure against his side attempting not to let the sheer amount of blood that was leaking through the wound drip onto the floor. They had stabbed him, but he had spent most of his energy repeatedly healing the wound. Anyone else would’ve been dead hours ago. He was lucky to have Uraraka’s quick thinking by his side who dragged him to his sister. The doctors probably didn’t expect him to be awake for another week and likely wouldn’t have checked on him soon. He pressed the back of his head to the siding of the room. If anyone outside realized how weak he was currently he was endangering both Uraraka and Katsuki he couldn’t afford to leave his house in very different ways.

               Katsuki moved, careful to make sure the sound of his feet echoed down the hall, the soft sound of tears dripping against the wood and fabric against skin from another room. He suppressed an annoyed growl, he needed to comfort her. Somehow. Uraraka took a breath, standing up. Katsuki pressed himself against the darkness of the wall watching as she moved back to the car dragging the supplies back inside. Katsuki sighed, grabbing the bag out of her hands.

               “My parents, I don’t know how to make it up….to him…or to you….it’s like I’ve broken both of your trusts.” Uraraka glanced down, “I wanted to protect you guys in the same way you protect me, but I’ve just been making things worse.” Her hands tightened on the luggage she carried in, “Maybe it’s better if I leav-“

               His hand landed on her head, messing her hair, “Sometimes people are trying to do the best for others, but sometimes what you think is right for you is wrong for others.”

               Uraraka glanced towards him.

               “Don’t go anywhere. You’re strong than you think. And just because you don’t protect us in the same way we protect you makes you any weaker or not as if you are a contributing member of this household. Just keep moving forwards.” He paused, moving forwards towards Todoroki’s room, “Besides, who’s going to report back to me on who’s head needs the guillotine after a research paper? Come to Todoroki’s room later, I don’t think he’ll mind.”

               Uraraka nodded, moving to her room to put her stuff away, the rest of the supplies strewn throughout the living room, “I’m going to put out stuff away, real quick.”

               Katsuki moved back towards Todoroki’s room, opening the door and shutting it behind himself. He glanced Todoroki over, he had thrown his shirt to the side and enough bandages to create a mummy from scratch laid throughout the room. Todoroki was half leaned over panting as he reached for the ointment to change the bandages.

               “Move.” He snapped, placing himself next to him, “What would you two do without me?”

               Todoroki sighed, “I know, I should probably hire a maid. But…” He glanced down.

               “This isn’t a question of if you should or shouldn’t hire a maid. This is a question of you coming home like this all the time.”

               “This is only the third time.”

               “In the past month.”

               “Hey, better than last year.”

               “oh, shut up before I tighten your bandages too tight.”

               Todoroki let out a small scoff, “What do you think she’s going to do when she figures out who murdered you?”

               “Show him how to finish the job properly.” Katsuki growled, glancing at what Fuyumi had given him.

               “I guess we shouldn’t let her finish her project then.”

               “What are we going to do? Stop her?” Katsuki laughed, knowing full well that one way or another once she had put her mind on a task, she was going to find a way to finish it. Even if they were the obstacles in her way.

               Todoroki shook his head, “You can try, I’m staying far out of her way.”

               “Thought so. She’ll figure it out.” His hands tightened on the bandages reaching for more, the wound wasn’t stopping. “Who’d they call to help you?”

               “A couple family doctors.”

               “A bunch of incompetents. I’ll go find the witch of the forest.” He sighed, standing up.

               “How do you plan to do that?”

               “Summon her, somehow.”

               “If you invite her in remember to add circumstances.”

               Katsuki shook his head, “She’s smart enough to not mess with us.  Besides, she clearly regards our powers. And she’s given you hints about Uraraka.”

               Todoroki nodded, “Remember witches look out for their own. She’ll want whatever help she’s offering in exchange for something.”

               Katsuki nodded, moving to the living room. He glanced towards Uraraka already asleep on the couch, some of the stuffed animals she and Todoroki had won wrapped in her arms. He sighed, scooping her up into his arms and moving her into her room. He drew the blanket up, her hand wrapping around the collar of his sleeve, “I’ll do better.”

               He reached down, gently letting her hand off of his wrist and setting it down, “You’re doing fine.” Katsuki sighed, shutting the door as he left, his feet stepped back from the drawn curtains the barely-there waning moon still there, moonlight echoing onto the floor. He glanced towards the shadow that kept him from burning his feet when he left Uraraka’s room.

               The witch of the forest smiled down towards him, “You called?”

               Katsuki glanced towards the moonlight that would make his feet begin to sizzle, it was a very dangerous way for one to introduce themselves, especially when they knew better. She was likely threatening him.

               “I’m not threatening you, depending on what kind of witch, you’re talking to they get their powers from different places. I’m going to need the moon’s power to save that one.”

               “So, you’ll save him? At what cost?”

               She lowered herself, swinging herself off the broom, the posture and grace of a composed goddess or a seductress moving with her and a smile to match, her eyes lingered towards Uraraka’s room as though she was waiting for him to tell her anything would be a decent price in the way most desperate people do.

               “If you can’t help us, I’ll figure out the problem myself.” He scoffed as the witch opened the door, testing her boundaries.

               “I do not know if that girl is a witch or not, or something of a different kind. But I would appreciate as she grows more powerful you are shielding her. As someone who does not have a coven of her own, I have already come to consider her one of my own as long as she resides in this forest. And from now until the day she says she does not desire it anymore.”

               Katsuki let out a small scoff, “So continue doing what we’re already doing,” he paused leaning on the wall, “You don’t plan on harming her? Even if she doesn’t turn out to be a witch?”

               The witch laughed, making her way to Todoroki’s room with little to no instruction, “Has he ever told you who owns this home?” A smile twitched on her lips, “The deed is in my name. Although, I’m sure not a single one of you can speak it. But I am no fool, only a fool would steal from a demon. I would not harm any of you. It’s best to get on their good nature.”

               Katsuki shook his head, “You’re telling me you own the home, but are afraid of not being on Todoroki’s good side?”

               “We’ve had a couple entanglements of unreasonable variety.” She held her broom behind her, “Speaking of which, little vampire have you figured out your moon problem?” She glanced over her shoulder, waving her hand and closing the curtains.

               He sighed, “Not yet, but we’re not going to ask you for that too.”

               She laughed, “I’m not just the witch of the forest for any reason. There’s a reason there’s such an abundant forest in the middle of this city.”  

               “Supernatural research and herbal research are very different kinds of research.”

               “But oh, woo’s to those who seek knowledge like it’s their drug. Maybe I’ll ask him to use the library at my leisure.” She smiled before dipping into Todoroki’s room and shutting the door.

               Katsuki sighed, rolling his eyes. He didn’t have time for the witch who was too nosy and too curious for her own good. It was surprising that she wasn’t the one who was murdered with the vast variety of knowledges in her head. Katsuki shook his head, heading to the library to supernatural proof the room, Todoroki would give her, her way. Even if she had trashed the library last time fighting a goblin from the mines in the eighteen century over her necklace. A known kleptomaniac. And she had let him out. On accident. Katsuki sighed, thinking of the fact that the witch had the various knowledges of the world, that necklace storing one of the more deadly foes she had faced, and she had almost let them out in their house. Katuski sighed, glancing over the library he had been so particular about since arriving, knowing that it would be trashed by morning.

[leseiichirosanoworks-blog]

Hide Away -Chapter 1 : Awkward Beginnings.

So after much delay ( because I’m anxious and haven’t posted in a while), here’s chapter 1 of HideAway,

The tone I was going for is like the aforementioned title so if you feel awkward reading it, I HAVE SUCCEEDED. There won’t be much going on because it’s an introductory chapter. I hope you enjoy this short slice of life venture that I have finally started.

Lorcan looks like this now and Sitka looks like this.

Any thoughts and comments you have, you can reach me either on this tumblr, or twitter or facebook. I’m going to bury myself in Doctor Who now. 

Eto...please read below!

I like swimming.

Swimming is pretty much the only other thing that gets me out of my room, it sort of gives me a reason not to mope around. I'm definitely not good at it, I can barely swim 5 meters without stopping and going beyond the middle part of the pool scares me. But just the though of being in the water is calming. I can't hear anything but the splash and swirls of me being in it, it's like mediation or something. Probably something because mediation puts me to sleep.

“ HEY!  DUDE IN THE POKEBALL SWIMSHORTS!” someone shouts, disrupting the calm, zen like mode that I was going through “ HEY POKE-SWIM”

I stop my lap, only to panic and grab the floating lines because I'm right in the middle and will drown if I don't hold onto something. “ Yeah, what do you want?!” I ask, only seeing a big mint coloured blur with a shock of pink from where I'm currently floating. My shortsightedness is going to be the end of me one day, but prescription goggles make me dizzy so eh.

“ I'M SORRY BUT I BROKE YOUR GLASSES!” he shouted.

What.

“ YOU STAY RIGHT THERE!” I shouted back, propelling myself to the pool's sides with the strength of my sheer disbelief and bafflement. He broke my glasses??? How could he, they're those foolhardy plastic frame ones I got because they're more or less unbreakable?

Scrambling to wrap myself in the super nerdy Dalek towel because it was cold and all, I walked to the one who called me. Up close, I could now see that he's actually a complete head and shoulders taller than me. Which meant he's probably a foot above me in height. And that all the clothing articles that he had on him was some form of either pastel or white. It suited him. What stood out from this cupcake ensemble ( other than his adorable pink hued hair) was my black, thick plastic glasses which had snapped in half. The lenses had miraculously shattered, rendering them completely useless.

“ You got to be kidding me. Did you stomp on these?” I exclaimed, taking the pitiful remains of my sight correctors. “My prescription might not be that high but I depend a lot on these things” muttering, I look a really not expecting to see that he's probably going to cry in 5 seconds.

Holy hell did this get awkward so fast.

“ Uh! Hey! It's okay!” the heck, I sound convincing as heck “ You did me a favour, the frame was getting old and rickety! I should thank you!” I sighed, this is going nowhere.

“ I'll pay for your new ones!” he said, his grey eyes shining with unshed tears “ I promise!”

Great. “ Uh, dude. No offense but it's really no biggie. You don't need to pay for anything, I needed to get anothe-” The kid's gonna blow, I know it, he’s this close to to blowing “You know what? You can pay the deposit for it!” 

I guess there was no reason for me to say no ( other than a sense of pride, you dolt), not with the big marshmallow bribing me with his unshed tears. “ Lemme just get decent and then we can talk about it, alright? ”

Well, you now know one of my few weaknesses now. Big, crying cupcake dudes will always end me.

Thank gods I'm paying half for my glasses, and the shop allowed us a student discount because these things are expensive. The frames that I picked mirrored my previous ones, because I’m a sentimental kinda guy. Sitka fidgeted a bit, looking left and right, because it got pretty awkward for some reason. And I am pretty much shit at small talk that didn't revolve around some form of animation or nerd culture. So there, you had two college aged dudes just chilling in the spectacles shop waiting for the transaction to finish and trying to out-fidget the other.

After the specs were paid for, they told me I could pick it up in about 3 days time. And yet again, the ' why are we here again, I don't know you and the same goes to you' scenario started again. “ Are you going back straight after this?” I asked, and he practically jumped

“ Y-Yeah, I was going to go home before I stepped on your glasses. Sorry” he said, voice going higher and higher with each word. “ D-DO YOU NEED A RIDE BACK?!” he blurted in the end “ My sister's going to pick me up”

“ Nah, don't be sorry. It's okay” I say, chuckling a little. “ I'll take the bus, I live near college anyways”

“ If you say so” he said, meekly and unsure of himself.

“ Do I scare you that much or is it guilt from my glasses?” I asked, totally not jokingly.

“ Oh, you scare me shitless” he said, totally not trying to stare me down “ How did you know Pokeball swimshorts were my ultimate weakness”

The amount of sass that came out of him from that single sentence sent me into a laughing fit. This kid, this kid's got it good.

Getting ready in the morning without wearing my glasses has got to be one of the weirdest things that I have done. Well, getting ready was slightly more difficult because I can't see stuff until they're brought to an arm's length away, getting super shocked and uncomfortable when I noticed how blurry everything was. I texted my friend and nominated him to be my SEH, or seeing-eye human for the day before putting on my shoes and taking the 10 min walk to class.

Again, I cursed the management for giving me a schedule with daily 8am classes as I entered the campus, my eyes trying to focus on everything at once while my head was buzzing around from the clear lack of sleep I suffer. Nothing educational should be allowed to happen before 10, nor should it last for more than two hours without a break between. The lecturer's never on time as well, which should be a clear indicator that it's too early for anything to happen. Settling into my seat beside my SEH, I absentmindedly scrolled through Twitter because it's hella better than facebook. Well, I follow a lot of artists and they mainly have twitter accounts, so go figure.

“ Dude, remember that Stucky fic I told you to read? The one with the salami?” Tavşan started, and I nod furiously because that was fantastc I mean, if you're going to go in that direction, why not go for the unexpected and make a pretty good ER story.  “ I found a better one. It's got---”

“ Can I at least have the morning ritual first before we have this conversation?” SEH mentioned, sounding half-dead and not even trying to lift their head from the table.

“ You don't contribute anyways” I mutter, “ Unless it's Shiro --”

“ Shiro's your Bara Dad too” they whine from their throne of isolation, which was going to topple down at any moment if he wasn't too careful.

“ If that's supposed to be an argument, consider it invalid”

“ Well consider yourselves kinkshamed because it's got Shiro in a rather precarious situation with a certain Cuban Paladin” Tavşan said, bringing it up on her phone to send the link to our chatgroup “ They get all frisky and stuff in the office and BLAM, there's the voyeu---”  

“ Morning. Ritual.” SEH all but screamed, grumpily stuffing their head in their hoodie.

*, who was our knight in red armour came in at the last moment, bringing us homemade hashbrowns and peppermint hot chocolate,while we were killing SEH with our explicit discussion about the finer aspects of the fanfiction that jumpstarted our day. I mean, how could you not, the fandoms that we are in constantly churn out new stuff that maybe has the same premise as the other one but the way that the author chooses to write it and all the quirks that go into each chapter makes them special.  That's probably how our days often started, as inappropriate as possible.

Because what's a little indecency between your equally indecent mates?

Well, SEH was jump started by the glorious breakfast but they're a closet fanperson surrounded by a bunch of extroverts. Loud, perverted, mischievous extroverts. They consented to this.  And to think that they got into this cliché of sorts because of a prank we played on them. That may or may not have involved their Snapchat account and and photos of them fawning over some BDSM manga in the computer lab. No lasting damage but almost being blacklisted from the labs and so, so many snaps from both us and their other friends testing out their other kinks.

The lecturer came in late by 15 mins, probably his second time being that this semester and started with an apology. No one blamed him because the roads are atrocious in the morning in these parts anyways. But another person came in later than him. And this person was a pastel blob.

Was it the same pastel blob?

I'm pretty sure there are other people in this university who are pastel goths.

It can't be him.

BUT IT COULD BE.

I feel my heartbeat rising and nope, that ain't good. Lectures are the next best thing to distract myself from that sudden feeling of doom and 'HOLY SHIT I DIDN'T KNOW HE WAS HERE ALL ALONG'. Listening to the lecturer speed through the law notes is almost calming, mainly because it's all very dry, makes me want to sink further into the seat and close my eyes. Which kinda helps with the sudden rush of anxious energy running through my being.

Ending his lecturer with a case yet another person who felt like he was cheated, he slowly packed up his stuff. Meanwhile, I was zipping my head around the classroom to look at the pastel blob who I don't even know the name to. Obsessed much? Of course I am. Spotting him near the middle part of the left side I quickly tugged SEH's arm and told them to look at him. “ He's that tall kid that hangs out with two beautiful kids” they said, focusing on the blob. “ What's his name again? Smitka? Sitka? What's your beef with that guy, he talked bull about any of your kinks?”

“ He broke my glasses and is the reason why you've become my SEH today” I said, trying my best to focus on him but alas, if your eyesight sucks, it sucks big time.

“ Which asshole?!--” Tavşan turned around to look at him “ Dude, he's softer than my buttcheeks. Are you sure you weren't the one who tried to pick him and made him---”   I could see her face contorting into something I can only explain as utter disgust.

“ It's not like that!” Explaining how we got into situation yesterday, my merry band of people suddenly launched into different scenarios. Our breakfast caretaker went on and on about how this resembled like every other shoujo manga in existence, which couldn't be further from the truth. Tavşan probably took out my shoulder and “ That boy is probably going to kill you in a fortnight. Want me to kill him first?”. And then there was SEH, who stared at him.

The next lecturer came in, projected her slides through the increasingly dinky projector ( which seemed to be fancy the colour yellow today and dyed everything in said colour). Pastle Blob Marshmallow and his posse of blurred pretty people made a move, they were in a different program than us after all. To think I haven't noticed this person, we've been in the same class for nearly 2 months. But then again I'm probably the least 'aware of my surroundings' person you would ever meet...my head hurts.