#me: i need to get weirder i need to loop this back into the insane premise | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

niobe-loreley · 3 years ago

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Heaven Is In A Shortcake {viii}

this is a treat, ey? i think this is the longest chap of the fic as of yet? (see author's notes far below)

disclaimer: The Gray Man and the characters are NOT mine, even the reader. I only own the plot and the reader's character lol. Pictures used in the fic are NOT MINE, but only edited version (u can msg me if u ze owner); credits to the rightful owners and canva + weheartit. Addtionally, I am not a Subic/Zambales native, so my apologies for any wrong locations, descriptions, or languages.

Six x F!Reader / Courtland Gentry x Female Reader

warnings: moderate swear words. some filipino dialogues. slow burn. fluff. trust issues. comedy if you use a magnifying glass. culture shock. check some word count.

CHAPTER SELECTION is in the ✨Masterlist✨ Chapter 7 - checkirawt in the masterlist Chapter 8 - this is it

word count: 5.2k (N/N) =nickname *Kiara = Claire *Kurt = Court *cover names | reader doesn't know (except you do know #wreckthe4thwall)

“Home sweet home!” Claire declares as Court rests the car to a halt beside the curb.

“Need help opening the gate?" you ask and unbuckle your seatbelt.

Court starts climbing out of the car. "No, I got it."

"But we can get out now and set up the living room." Claire twirls out her own keys to their house.

You check your things, grab the door—

"Oh, thanks," you say when Court opens your door after Claire's.

Slipping out the passenger seat, you shut the door and try not to look startled when Claire loops her arm around yours. You let her lead you to the gates, and Court holds one of them open for the two of you to pass.

"What a gent," Claire remarks gushingly, patting his arm.

Court scoffs, ruffling her hair, and meets your eyes for a split second. You furrow your brows at that, he invites you and now he's avoiding your gaze. Is he weirder than usual or are you just going insane?

Both— your inner self answers like a courtroom judge putting a case to rest.

You let your gaze wander around the premises. It's a typical Filipino residence: a garden near the terrace, which is beside the open garage, two floors with a veranda atop the garage, screen-covered windows, pale yellow walls, red-slated roof, and a screen door (which surprisingly has a deadbolt). You don’t know why you thought the father-daughter duo would live in those modern cubic homes. Is it racist to think so?

“Viola!” Claire unlocks the front door gracefully, leaning on the screen door, she beckons for you. “After you, m’lady.”

“Wait, (Y/N)!” Court climbs out of the SUV after parking it in the garage, “Can I talk to you for a minute?”

You shrug. “Sure.”

“Here, I’ll put the cake in the fridge.” Claire jogs up to Court, taking the box from him with a toothy smile. “See you two inside!”

Court strolls to the gates, and you take one when he grabs the other. “Thanks,” he nods at you appreciatively and the two of you push the gates to a close.

“What did you want to talk about?” you ask in a very formal tone, lessening the proximity by taking a step back.

He notices your temperament, averts his gaze to the ground, and expels out a sigh. “If you asked me earlier, why the hell am I doing this.. then I wouldn’t have an answer.”

“You’re a smartass, I’m sure you can think of something.”

“Look, (Y/N).. I’m sorry.” he pauses to gauge your reaction, but you blankly gesture for him to continue. “I’m sorry for the way I’ve been acting. I know this is all starting to get complicated—”

“Starting to?” you repeat with a scoff, “It’s already complicated, Kurt.”

“You’re right—”

“That’s not what I want to hear.”

“Well, I’m not really good at this, so please let me finish.” he quickly fires back.

You’re astonished for a few seconds. “.. Lips zipped, then.”

“Okay. I’m sorry you’re getting roped up in our lives.. it's not exactly a walk in the park. I’m also sorry for trying to untangle you from us and then mooring you back in. We don’t,” he pauses to glance at the house, “Kiara and I don’t typically have anyone but each other. It’s not that we don’t let them, we just…”

“Can’t,” you finish for him.

He nods. “Yeah… But here you are.”

You lift a shoulder. “Here I am.. and why is that?”

“Because you’re kind to Kiara—”

“Because she’s a very kind kid. I’m only kind to those who are kind to me. Surely, you’ve met a lot of good people.”

“Not really.”

“Really?”

Court sighs. “Will you let me finish, please?”

“Sorry, go on.”

"You're kind to her, and to me despite my dispositions toward you—"

You purse your lips when you feel the retort scratching your tongue.

"—So, I'm just trying to return the favor."

'Even though it can put you in danger,' Court mentally muses and looks out of the gate, afraid that you'll read him through his eyes.

"That's also why I'm apologizing. Because I've been expecting the worst of you… But don't worry, I expect that from everyone." he looks at you, half-smiling.

You nod understandingly, and then suddenly furrow your brows. "Mooring? What am I, a boat?” you question with an amused grin and playfully jab him on the shoulder.

Dumbfounded, Court watches you stride back to the house. "That's all you got from that?"

You swivel around, slowly walking backwards. "I get it, dum-dum. You and Kiara have gone through a lot of things— which I don't wanna think about right now." you chuckle, "And you don't have to tell me 'cuz I don't want you telling me, you know.. I'm just the waitress who serves you and your daughter dinner on Friday nights."

You reach the terrace and start slipping off your shoes.

"What are you doing?"

"Ay kabayo!" you exclaim, hand on your chest, you glare at Court. "Don't sneak up like that!"

But, seriously, when did he get behind you?

"Sorry.. but what are you doing?" he asks puzzledly.

"What does it look like I'm doing?" you huff, sliding your shoes aside, you step onto the terrace in your foot socks.

He chuckles. "You don't have to take off your shoes."

You blink. "Oh, right.. sorry," and you laugh, "Culture differences. But I already took them off, so.."

The two of you proceed in the house without another argument, especially with Court being a gent and opening the screen door for you. White tiles wink at you from beneath the carpets, the stairs (also carpeted) to the second level is at the left of the door, while to the right leads into the living room, and at the end of the foyer are two paths, one of them may wind into the kitchen.

“Cozy,” you comment as you take a gander, mentally noting how they lack family portraits or pictures of themselves. ‘And suspicious..’

“Ta-da!” Claire exclaims enthusiastically, striding from the dining room into the living room, she deposits a snack-filled basket on the coffee table. “Snacks, check! Now for the drinks!”

“Do you need any help?” you inquire.

“No, no, no— I can manage! You’re our guest, please just make yourself at home,” Claire says in one breath before bolting away and disappearing behind the doorway, which you guess leads to the kitchen.

“But helping out is the only way to make me feel at home!” you holler.

Claire peeks out of the doorway, pointing at you warningly. “Dad, watch her!”

“Like a hawk,” Court replies.

When Claire retreats back into the kitchen, you share a look with Court and stifle your laughs. “Please, do sit down,” he gestures to the sofa, “before the lady of the house ties you to your seat.”

“Don’t mind if I do,” you snort, carefully placing your bag beside the sofa-side table, you then plop down on one end of the couch.

Court stops watching you and moves to power up the TV, your eyebrows leap up when Court takes off his cap. This is the first time in the past one month and two weeks that you finally see his hair. Is it brown or blonde? You’re uncertain as the living room lights are set to low, curtains are drawn over the windows, and the only lights that were on are from the hallway and the dining room.

You briefly make a face at him before scrutinizing the area. The sofa set is in the corner near the doorway to the dining room, an interior window on the wall lets you view the dining table in the center of the neighboring area, and you also spot Claire’s figure periodically showing behind the kitchen doorway. You peer at the magazines on the lower shelf of the coffee table, but you’re more interested in the sungka board. The magazines look so organized, either Court and Claire must’ve not had any guests yet or they’re just really organized people.

“Have you two played this yet?” you ask, carefully taking the sungka board out, placing it atop the table.

Court glances over to you. “No, not yet.. the real estate agent offered, but I told him we might not have any free time during the move.”

“I can teach it to you two sometimes— OH MY GOD!” you shoot up from your seat.

“What is it?!” Court asks worriedly, rising.

“That’s a DVD player.” you point at the device he uncovered below the television.

“What’s happening?” Claire sprints into the room.

“There’s a DVD player.” you mention.

“I know..?”

You laugh. “Sorry, not a lot of people I know own a DVD player anymore. Even I just own a portable DVD player.”

“And here I thought someone was shot or something,” Claire scoffs, sashaying back to the kitchen.

“Sorry!” you call, red-faced.

“I actually thought you wouldn’t know what a DVD player is,” Court remarks, snickering.

You roll your eyes. “I’m older than I look,” and stride towards him, crouching in front of the TV set. “Is the DVD plugged in yet?”

“Yep,” Court nods and squats down beside you as you press the power button.

You giggle as the lights flash on and the TV displays the DVD logo. Court feels something on his face while winged creatures flap around his chest. When you look at him, he just realizes what’s happening to him. He’s smiling— at you because of you. And his heart is fluttering because of you.

Oh, how he wishes it was caused by something pathological. Because he'd rather have a progressively morbid disease rather than go insane due to inexplicable things you're causing in him.

"Here is the mother lode, huh?" you open up the cabinet beneath the DVD's shelf.

Court snaps out of his stupor. “Ye-Yeah.. that’s our treasure.”

“Ah-ha!” you meticulously pluck out TFIOS, “What’s the comedy movie that Kiara wanted to watch?”

“The Proposal!” says Claire as she strides to the coffee table, where she places down a tray of three glasses and a pitcher of orange juice.

“Aren’t you also gonna watch this?” Court holds up Paper Towns.

She shakes her head. “No, (N/N) has a full-time shift tomorrow. One sad movie and one comedy, both with a dash of romance, are enough for tonight.”

“Plus, your pacemaker won’t probably like it if you progressively watch sad movies in one run.” you remark half-jokingly and rise up, beckoning for the teen, you outstretch the DVD case to her. “I shall let you do the honors.”

“Take your seats, then!” Claire beams, grabbing TFIOS from you.

When the player swallows up the CD, Claire swivels around, ready to fly for the couch, but she halts halfway and frowns. The sofa set is pushed up against the corner to make the letter ‘L’, you and Court are sitting on the opposite corners as though one of you has cooties.

“What’s wrong?” Court asks.

“Nothing.” she huffs, snatching a bag of chips from the table, she plops down on the middle of the couch. But she’s nearer to you.

You scoot forward to pull the drinks’ tray to you—

“Allow me,” Court suddenly says, he’s the closest to the drinks, and pours each glass with the exact amount of orange juice.

“Thanks,” you smile at him when he hands you the drink.

He nods. “You’re welcome.”

You can’t believe how calm you are when fireworks are exploding in your insides and whistling through your nerves. Those always particularly happen whenever you’re near Court or come into close contact with him. He hands you the glass so casually that you don’t realize you practically wrap your fingers around his until he pulls away. You don’t know why you’re making a big deal out of this, you brush fingers with strangers everyday, Court shouldn’t be any different even though you’ve grown to slightly know him.

Court, on the other hand, is keeping a nonchalant demeanor while trying to reduce the burning of his ears. That always particularly happens, plus stomach churning, whenever he’s near you or comes into close contact with you. You accept the glass from him in such a friendly manner that he feels so relaxed until he retracts. He’s uncertain why this seems to be a big deal, he may not brush fingers with strangers all the time, but when he does, it shouldn’t be any different with you even though he’s starting to know you.

You and Court may not notice the other’s reaction to your momentary interaction, but Claire spots it easily. The way you rub behind your ear, the mannerism you do when you’re embarrassed or nervous (though you scratch more for the latter), and the redness in Court’s ears that he thinks no one knows about.

Grinning like the Cheshire cat, Claire increases the volume of the TV, gently rips open the chips and offers it to the two of you. Court lets you take the chips first. “What?” he narrows his eyes at Claire as he snatches a handful of chips.

“Nothing,” she intones.

“Hey, shush!— It’s starting!” you chide in a hushed tone.

“You don’t get to choose if you get hurt in this world, but you do have a say in who hurts you. And I like my choices.. I hope she likes hers.

“Okay, Hazel Grace..?”

“.. Okay.”

The world becomes watery in your vision as your tears fall for the umpteenth time. You manage to catch the sob in your throat, extracting more tissues from its box, you dab at your damped cheeks and carefully blow out your nose.

Court clears his throat. “That’s it?”

You glance at him. “Y-Yeah..”

He averts his gaze, shaking his head. “No, no.. that can’t be it.” he says, voice infinitesimally breaking with refusal and dejection.

“Do you wanna get in here?” you croak, nodding at Claire who is already curled up beside you when Gus broke the news to Hazel.

He looks offended. “I’m not crying.”

“She’s not saying you are,” Claire points out, grinning as she sniffles.

“Yeah, well, I’m just saying that I’m not.” he sharply replies.

“No need to get defensive, dude.” you drawl.

Court pulls a face at you. “I’m going to the bathroom,” he stands up and swiftly exits the living room.

“He’s definitely crying there.” you say to Claire.

“I can still hear you!”

Claire covers her mouth in an attempt to stifle her laugh, but she fails, and so did you. “How are you feeling?” you inquire once you two have calmed down.

“Honestly?” Claire pauses to sip on her orange juice, “My chest is aching, but not enough to hurtle to the hospital. I’d like to say that the book prepared me for the movie, but.. it hurts just the same.”

“I couldn’t agree more,” you nod, chuckling.

“Also, why didn’t they include that Hazel Grace is in college? And where is Kaitlyn?” Claire questions, baffled.

“I read on the internet that they did have a movie-Kaitlyn, but they edited her out.”

“How could they?!”

Court casually returns. “Shall I get the second movie up and running?”

“Sure— but, wait! It’s my turn to go to the bathroom! And I have something to check in my room!” Claire is already racing upstairs before anyone can speak.

“Isn’t there a bathroom down here?” you ask, amused.

“Yeah,” Court sighs, heading to the TV set, he pauses the end credits and takes out the CD.

You rise up. “I’ll go and indulge in the potty break, then.”

“You should take the guest bathroom,” says Court, “It’s cleaner than the kitchen bathroom.”

“I don’t mind.” you chuckle.

“But I do,” he sighs, pauses the DVD, and gestures for you to follow him.

You do so without complaint, but with a small smile on your face. Court leads you through the foyer, and at the end, he veers left. You trail behind, eyeing the door beneath the stairs. “Got Harry Potter in there?” you ask, jerking a thumb over your shoulder.

Court glances at the door. “You wish,” he smirks and unlocks the guest room.

“Why do you have the guest room locked?” you asks, brows knotting in suspicion.

For a split second, Court tenses up until he shrugs. “Just to keep it from opening and then closing with a bang on its own,” he says and walks in.

You quickly follow after him. “Wait, what?”

“Yeah, sometimes it does that.” he scrutinizes the door.

“So you’re going to let me use the bathroom of a possibly haunted room?”

“Would you like me to accompany you in the bathroom?”

“N-No!”

“.. That’s settled, then. What, are you scared of ghosts?”

You scoff. “I’ve been taught to be more afraid of the living than the dead.”

He snorts. “What a coincidence, I’ve been taught that as well.”

You notice a shadow streaking across his eyes, and decide not to question it. “Well, it doesn’t change the fact of the superstitions I’ve grown accustomed to. We Filipinos are anything and superstitious.” you step up to the door in the near corner and open it noisily, “Do you know anything about the history of this house— heck, even the lot?!”

“Why are you raising your voice?” Court is amused.

“Having a lively house keeps the ghosts out!” you exclaim, eyeing every corner of the bathroom. “Or so I’ve been taught!”

“I’ll take note of that.” Court shortly laughs, “Do you want some company? I can stay here—”

“No, I’ll be fine. Thanks!” you shut the bathroom door, “I ain’t afraid of no ghost!”

Claire is already back when you return, she has Court sitting right next to her in the middle of the couch. She gestures for you to sit at her vacant side, and without a second thought, you do.

“I thought we’re watching a rom-com?” you lift a brow.

She presses ‘play’ on the remote. “Yes, we are.”

“Then, why are we sitting like it’s going to be a horror movie?”

“Just to be cozy since The Proposal is a cozy film.. for me.”

The Proposal is too cozy for Claire that she ends up sleeping midway. She has her arm looped around yours while her head is leaning on Court’s shoulder. You and Court decide to wait for ten minutes before he carefully hoists the teen up in his arms.

“Need any help?” you ask.

He contemplates on an answer for a few seconds. “Sure.. c’mon,” he says, marching towards the stairs.

You pause the movie and follow after them. Court’s footfalls appear quieter next to yours, even though he’s carrying another human being, he is somewhat light-footed. You begin to mentally accuse him of being an elf.

The second level of the house consisted of two bedrooms and a veranda; you figure that each room has their own bathrooms. Court turns left from the staircase, you glance at the door to your right and scan the lounge area encompassing the free space of the second floor.

“This is Kiara’s room,” says Court, standing by the door. “Can you..?”

“Sure!” you stride towards them, open the door to Claire’s room, and step aside.

You watch him tuck his daughter in bed, furtively peeking in, you eye Claire’s room with a small smile. Pastel pink walls spotted with clouds, fairy lights (which Court just switched on) hang from the ceiling, her bed is on the corner and adjacent to it is her desk, where a portable record player rests while CDs are stacked neatly into the shelves. There’s a dresser beside (you assume) the bathroom door, a single couch is situated on the corner next to it, and a cabinet behind the door.

“I’ll just be a second in my room,” Court says as he exits Claire’s bedroom, silently closing the door.

“Okay, I’ll start cleaning up the living room.” you grin and swivel around, heading downstairs before he can open his mouth.

You’ve just taken the CD out and power down every device in the TV set when your phone rings. Fishing it out of your bag, you quickly answer the caller without looking. “Hello?” you pause to glance at the screen, “Mindy? Why are you still awake?”

“Because Eliza forgot the time difference and called me. Sorry, did I call in the middle of a movie? Napapa-English tuloy ako dahil sa kanya.”

You laugh. “No, it’s fine. Hininto namin yung second movie, nakatulog na kase si Kiara. Akala ko ba uuwi na pinas si Eliza?”

“Bukas ko na lang ichi-chika si Eliza. First things first.. are you staying over there?”

“What? No! Tatawag ako ng Grab habang nagliligpit dito.”

“Seryoso ka?”

“Modesty is the new policy. Plus, I don’t have any clothes here.” you scratch the back of your head, “Even if I do agree to sleep here, I’d still wake up early and probably sneak out.”

Mindy huffs. "And why do you need to sneak out?"

"Because I don't want to wake Kiara and Kurt, doy!"

"Doy mo, mukha mo. Bahala ka nga diyan!"

The call ends before you can retort, pulling the phone away from your ear, you glare at the device. "Bastos ampo—" you cut yourself by deeply breathing in and out, "Kalma, te.. chillax!"

"You can borrow my clothes."

"Ay chillax na kabayo!"

You swivel around, heart soaring to your throat, and you laugh out your temporary fright. "Kurt, hey! Thank God, it's you," you sigh. "I thought you were the ghost!"

"Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you." he says and glances at the TV set.

"Oh, I powered off the TV and DVD already. Should I have unplugged it?" you begin cleaning up the coffee table.

"I got it."

"Do you mind if I play some music? And no worries, I'll keep it down a notch. I just like some tunes while doing some cleaning."

"Sure, no problem.."

"Thanks!"

Once the living room is all cleaned up, you and Court take all the stuff to the kitchen. “I can clean that up,” he says while sliding the trash in the bin.

You’re putting the pitcher and glasses, along with the small plates and forks (since the three of you ate the strawberry shortcake), in the sink. “No, no.. this is the least I can do.” you grin at him, “I had a great time.”

Court stashes the remaining cake in the fridge and approaches you. American Boy by Estelle ft. Kanye West is playing from the back-pocket of your jeans as you slip on the dishwashing gloves. “For some reason, I can’t imagine you wearing these.” you wiggle your gloved hands, snickering.

“I think you’re the only guest who dares insult their host.” Court huffs, turning away to open a drawer, he stifles a grin and pulls out an apron. “Wear this before you start.”

“Wear what?” you watch as Court flaps the apron twice and hooks it to your neck.

Your mind goes blank when he steps closer and ties the straps around your waist. He’s so close, something zesty wafts into your nose as it brushes against his shirt, you then realize that he’s not wearing his jacket. You glance down at his arm, eyeing the ink on his flesh, and when he pulls back but stays in place, you turn your head up, meeting his melancholic ice-blue eyes.

This is the first time the two of you look at each other in such proximity. Breaths halting along with the time-space continuum, it’s like the two of you are frozen in the freefall. You’re mesmerized by his eyes once more, while Court is thinking how he wants to look at you closer. If you tiptoe and he dips down, then—

“Yo-You probably wouldn’t take the gloves off even when I tell you, so wash the dishes with proper equipment.” Court stammers with a laugh as he suddenly steps back.

You face the sink with scarlet cheeks. “Like I said, this is the least I could do.” And so, you start washing the dishes while Court stores the unopened snacks in the cabinet above the counter.

The awkward silence is too much, even with the music from your phone. Especially when a love song begins playing.

“I’ve been curious about your hair. What color is it?” you blurt out.

He glances at you. “Blond, the dirty kind.”

“Really?” you regard him in astonishment and chuckle, “You know, I actually thought you had hair problems ‘cuz you always had a cap on.”

“I hope that assumption is ruled out.”

“It is,” you laugh. “I noticed your tattoos. The horse on your right arm looks like it’s doing drugs.”

Court snorts. “It does look like that, huh?” and glances down at his arm, eyeing the scar over the tattoo.

“So, what does it mean? Or are you gonna make me guess?”

“It’s the pale horse, the ride of one of the Four Horsemen.”

You snap your fingers at him. “Death, right?”

“That’s right,” he nods, impressed.

“Is the one on the left in Greek?”

“Yeah.. how’d you know?”

“Oh, you know.. I’ve been through the Greek mythology-obsessed phase.”

“Don’t we all?”

“And is that a spider on your left hand?— Oh, sheesh, I’m sorry for being so talkative.” you make a face at your distorted reflection on the tap.

“It’s fine, really.” says Court with a small smile, “You worry too much.”

“That’s because I talk too much,” you remark, throwing him a meaningful look.

“.. Let’s agree to disagree.”

The two of you share a laugh, and as a comfortable silence consumes the air with Youth by Daughter, Court finishes storing the snacks and helps you in drying the dishes.

“You can stay the night, you know.” he says and carefully places the forks in the rack.

You nearly slip on the non-slippery floor. “What?”

He faces you sheepishly. “I, uh, I overheard when you were on the phone earlier.. that you’ll be calling for a cab after this.”

"Well, yeah, I mean.. I can't really stay." you wipe your hands on the apron, "I have to get up early— I don't want to wake you and Kiara up— plus, I don't have any clothes."

The words hurtle out his mouth once again before he can raise the drawbridge. "I can lend you clothes," he rubs the side of his neck, trying not to pinch his carotid artery. "And Kiara has some extra toiletries you can use."

"I'm pretty sure you don't have my kind of underwear. And even if Kiara does, I may be small to you, but I'm certain our measurements are different." you say amusedly.

He averts his gaze when he feels the blood creeping up his cheeks. "Kiara actually bought those one-sized underwear from a convenience store once," he says, coughing slightly.

You blink, contemplating on it, and you fish out your phone to check the time. It's already 1:47 AM, the kind of time you're already used to getting home, but it still doesn't change the fact that you're nervous. You're used to getting home on your own ride, but when Claire told you to ride with them, you had Muro take the moped while Mindy drove his SUV.

Taking a Grab home is quite safe, you've done it many times. There's no reason why you shouldn't do it again.

Court notices that you're thinking about his offer. "So, how about it?" he prompts, "It's either you sleep here or I'll wake up Kiara and we'll get you home."

Your jaw drops. "You wouldn't dare!"

He lifts a brow. "Oh, I wouldn't?"

You frown at him, but your annoyance soon turns into shock when you instinctively jab at his shoulder. "Oh, shit, sorry!" you sputter, frivolously rubbing the spot you assaulted without thinking. "I didn't mean to…"

You trail off when you notice the scar snaking out his sleeve. The cut that made it was deep and this is probably not all of it. There's also something else about it, something hypnotic, because your body starts to move without permission. Court manages not to flinch when you trace your fingers from his knuckles up to his arm, moving past his inked flesh gracefully. He knows you mean no harm, but why he lets you touch him like this, he doesn't know.

The spell you're under dissipates when you finally touch his scar, yet you're still standing there, despite the sirens blaring in your head, decorating cracks in your skull, you remain there. Right in front of him, half an arms-length apart, fingers touching something that they shouldn't. But he lets you, and you let yourself trace the part of the scar that shows, you dare not venture further into his sleeve.

"Are you.. some kind of daredevil or something?" you say, somewhat breathless.

One corner of his lip quirks up. "Or something…" he replies, somewhat murmuring.

You continue tracing the scar. "It's hideous, I dare say."

He stifles a laugh. "Only you could say something so crass and sound nonchalant."

"Well, I wouldn't lie if you asked me what I think of it." you retract, taking a half step back.

Court looks away when a grin threatens to break his face. "So, what do you say?" he pauses, "You going or staying?"

"I'm…"

'...Thinking about splitting a mountain with my head,' you internally muse, staring at the ceiling of the guestroom, hoping it'll collapse on you.

You're partly lying on the bed, legs dangling off the edge, you ponder on why you stupidly decided to stay: 1) because of your anxiety towards the dangers of going home this late, 2) you're a woman, 3) you're tired and you don't want to fall asleep in the cab, 4) you're a woman, and 5) Court reassures you that you can sneak out in the morning, just leave a note, the keys for the gate are in the kitchen (place them in the cactus pot on the terrace).

There's a knock on the opened door, you crane to see Court slowly stepping into the room. You bolt up to your feet and try to blink away the stars that soon swarm your vision. "I bet your shirt is like a dress on me," you chuckle as you grab the folded clothes he hands you. There's a crinkling from the pile, you peek to see a plastic packet in between and realize it's the convenience store underwear.

Unfortunately, there's no bra. But you reassure Court that you can use the bra you're already wearing since you take it off before sleeping— which was too much information that Court needed to hear earlier.

"I also hooked a belt on the pants. Hopefully that would keep it up," he says, scratching the back of your head.

"Hopefully," you laugh and pat him on the shoulder, "This is enough, Court, really. Thank you so much."

"You're welcome." he smiles politely.

You deposit the clothes on the couch by the corner. "Have a good night, Court." you walk back to him with the warmest smile that could practically melt any iceberg.

It also makes Court's insides flutter, but he decides it's diarrhea. "Y-Yeah, good night." he steps out of the room, quite hastily.

"Sleep well," you stand by the door, ready to close it.

"Same to you."

You give him one last smile before you push the door close—

"I just want to say..!"

You stop and instinctively pull the door open. "Yes?"

Court regards the threshold, rubs the back of his nape, and looks straight at you. "Kiara and I.. had a great time with you, too."

You blink at him, astounded. Yet a smile begins stretching up your lips.

Court reddens. "Okay, good night!" and whisks away like he's on fire.

A/N: awwww askjfdhskdhfs damn im feeling so giddy cuz of my own fic like wtf? Hope y'all enjoyed the two chapters i posted today! I may not be able to update quickly again :'> internship year is beginning to get gruesome. But I will update! Cuz I already thought about the ending for this fic, which is still a long way from here HAHAHAAH The portal to Chapter 9 is still not in the blueprints anymore!

✨TAGLIST✨

@kat-thepoet @queenofhellhasrisen @sierrasixswife @vallyb @lyuir

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myinconnelly1 · 5 years ago

Text

Dancing the Spiral

Word count: 4K (this is the longest One-shot I've ever written)

Masterist of Everything

A/n: Written for @dontshootmespence ‘s 8k celebration! here is I for Insanity!!! If you scare easily this might not be the fic for you. But i think it came out awesome. I took a lot of inspiration from my time playing White wolf’s World of Darkness, and you might recognize some stuff from The Golden Knight. Also big thanks to @donnaintx and @emilyshurley for being my sounding board, giving me ideas for the monsters and telling me to go to bed when it was late.

A/N 2: Also i put some breaks within the fic. They don't mean anything other than this is a good pause place if your eyes hurt.

Warnings: graphic depictions violence/gore, themes of horror and insanity, SNAKES

Summary: Kelsey has a disturbing Dream about herself and the Winchesters and now she has to try and understand it before it’s too late.

“How are you ss-sleeping, Kelsey?” The doctor asked as he leaned back and looked at her studiously. His lisp caused her obvious discomfort as she relived the vivid imagery of her nightmare.

“Not bad,” Kelsey lied dropping her gaze to the floor as she avoided eye contact with the man. She was new to this practice but wanted to give the doctor a chance. In her opinion, it was not going well, but it could be going worse. Any minute now he could turn into a snake man and she would snap her eyes open. She had not slept in nearly a week and she had started hallucinating.

“You’re not a very good liar. You just said that you didn’t really like this practice but were going to give it a try. So why don’t you tell me about what’ss bothering you.” He licked his lips and pulled out a notepad.

Kelsey rolled her eyes.

“Sam I’ve been having this dream. You’re in it, and so is your brother.” She was pacing outside a motel.

“Come on, Kelsey, it sounds like you’re gonna start explaining a sex dream.” Kelsey closed her eyes and inhaled deeply as she fought with herself. She heard a noise and jerked her head around, but nothing was there to see. “Get a goddamn grip. Plenty of people deal with insomnia and bad dreams. They don’t go running to their new boyfriends trying to explain that the monsters might be real.”

“But most people also get some sleep despite those things. They don’t stand around hearing and seeing shit that isn’t there.” She muttered in argument.

“Yeah well they don’t talk to themselves either,” She quibbled back.

“You okay?” Sam asked as he stuck his head out of the motel room door. “I saw you standing out here pacing and wasn’t sure if you were going to come in or not.”

“Yeah, I’m gonna come in. I don’t think you were going to go in. I wasn’t sure if I really wanted to bother Sam with this.” Kelsey babbled until she realized that Sam was staring at her like she had a second head. “Sorry, not sleeping.” She gave a weak smile.

“No problem, we’ve all been there,” Sam said. “Dean and I were just doing some research for a job.”

“That sounds exciting,” Kelsey said trying to contain her thoughts in her mouth. Dean gave her a quick smile and a wink as she came into the motel. “What kind of job are the FBI working on in town?” She had a serious case of Deja Vu and surreptitiously found a mirror to look at herself in.

“We’re looking into some suspicious missing person cases. We’re not really sure what the connection is but we’re hopeful. You okay?” Sam asked.

You caught yourself staring at the mirror and realized you had inadvertently picked out the outfit from your dream. You were muttering something and not listening to your boyfriend so quickly tried to recover.

“Missing persons, I haven’t heard about anyone.” She was pretty out of the loop on missing persons working in the ER and things had been worse lately, but she figured she would have heard about at least one.

“We’ve been keeping it quiet,” Dean said a little too quickly. She looked at him oddly.

“Dean, if there is a connection between these people I don’t know what it is.” Kelsey saw Sam say to Dean from his laptop.

“There has gotta be a connection. Why are these people being targeted?” Dean’s voice rumbled. “Maybe they are looking for something, demons don’t just possess people for no reason.”

“I don’t think they are demons, Dean,” Sam said.

Kelsey’s head was spinning. She blinked rapidly trying to clear her mind of the hallucination.

“Kel, maybe you should sit down.” Sam’s voice was like the surface of a still lake as Kelsey broke the surface for air. She shook her head vigorously, fleeing the room.

“Kelsey, wait!” Dean stood to try and catch her but she was off and gone.

“This is a creepy ass temple,” Dean groaned looking at the abandoned building. He didn’t want to be here and wasn’t sure if the souls of the people that had been brought here wanted to come either.

Kelsey sat up on the floor of her apartment gasping as the world spun. She tried to count ten but kept losing focus. She stood and went to the freezer and grabbed an ice cube. The cold helped restart her train of thought and stir her from the brink of the abyss she felt like she was standing over. Kelsey rubbed her arm scratching the imaginary bugs that she knew weren’t there.

She needed to go to the temple. It was the only way she was going to figure this out.

“You mean if it is even real,” She sighed at herself. She pulled out her phone and sent Sam a text apologizing for the way that she had rushed out. She confirmed that she was in fact, really okay. “Liar.”

She packed a few items and left in search of where she thought the temple was. Or at least where Dean thought the temple was, when she had hallucinated being him. She was starting to no longer care how crazy it sounded.

“Kelsey?” Sam asked as she realized she had been standing in front of the somewhat ruined temple. “What are you doing here?”

“Um, listen this is gonna sound weird,” She said

“Not any weirder than anything else you’ve done today,” Dean muttered, but Sam elbowed him.

“No, it’s true. I think. I uh, had this weird dream about this temple and you guys and these snake monsters. Anyway, I had to figure out what was going on. But I haven’t been sleeping so I’m not sure what's real anymore.” Kelsey continued to babble.

“Wait, snake monsters?” Sam asked, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder.

“Yeah, they were snakes, but not quite. And they had arms and claws. And I think they can possess people, but I think that’s kinda crazy and I don’t feel so good.” Kelsey curled up a little as her muscles cramped from the lack of sleep.

“No, it’s okay,” Sam said wrapping his arms around the tired brunette.

“Sam,” Dean’s voice sounded like a warning.

“No, she needs to know. What you were dreaming about, it’s real.” Sam said, pulling her close.

“It is?” Kelsey whispered. “I don’t know what’s worse, that those monsters are real or that you believe me.”

“What do you mean?” Dean asked.

“I’ve been hallucinating a lot,” Kelsey admitted. “But I didn’t think that you guys would really believe me.”

“The missing people aren’t really missing. It’s more like they’ve been possessed.” Sam said.

“So then what is this creepy temple?” Kelsey asked, pointing to the building that was falling apart.

“It’s an entrance to a supposedly creepy shadow world,” Dean said.

“The Spiral,” Kelsey said, shaking her head and rubbing her face.

“How did you know that?” Sam asked, looking at her as he and Dean pulled out shotguns.

“I’m not sure, but what are you going to do with those?” She pointed at the guns. “If they are spirits can you actually touch them?”

“The monsters are called Naag, and we are hoping that they are repelled by salt like other ghosts,” Sam said as they loaded the firearms with the salt rounds.

~~~~~

“We have to go through the door. No matter what.” Sam said as they approached the entrance of the temple.

“What happens if we don’t?” Kelsey asked as she realized she was seriously underprepared.

“We don’t leave ever,” Dean responded, giving her a quick glance over his shoulder.

“But we will, it’s gonna be okay, just stay close,” Sam comforted. The three of them walked into the temple, and all gasped as if they were being stabbed all over by icicles.

They panted as they tried to gain an understanding of their surroundings in the inky black. Kelsey knew something about what they had done was wrong but she wasn’t sure what it was. Their eyes adjusted slowly to the dimness until finally, they saw the temple in its full splendor all around them.

“Where the hell are we?” Dean asked as he turned around slowly.

“The spiral,” Sam answered. “I think.”

“Yes,” Kelsey suffered a momentary lapse of lucidity as her vision doubled with a view of splendid statues and Snake men. “This was their entrance to protect. This is the first circle. We shouldn’t be here.”

“Why?” Dean asked, lifting the shotgun again.

“Normally you enter the spiral in your sleep,” Kelsey said, “We walked in.”

“How do you know that?” Sam asked, grabbing her forearm gently, to look at him.

“I’m not sure,” Kelsey seemed to struggle to grasp the answer to the question. “I think I dreamed about it.”

“More importantly, why does it matter that we were awake.” Dean interrupted her thoughts.

“We’re here in the flesh. We are in their world. We have to play by their rules. They can hurt us, and possess us.”

“That explains why the others were brought here, so they could be possessed,” Sam said looking over her shoulder and said to Dean. He released Kelsey’s arm.

“Yeah but for what purpose?” Dean asked looking back at his brother.

“It’s a trap,” Kelsey’s eyes went wide as she looked up at Sam, then bolted for the doorway they had just come through.

“Kel, that’s not gonna-” He cut off as she leaped through the doorway and disappeared. “Work… huh, I guess she found the door, come on.”

Sam and Dean came through the door and found Kelsey covering her ears and screaming.

“What the hell?” Dean asked as he and Sam went over to her. She turned and scraped her nails across Dean’s face as she say him first. “Fuck!” He yelled as he backed up.

“Kelsey! Hey, it’s Sam. Stop!” He commanded as he tried to keep her hands at bay from attacking him. “Find the door!” Sam shouted over her screeching.

“There!” Dean shouted as he saw the outline in the empty dark room. The smaller dark-haired woman had finally gotten the upper hand on Sam, and Dean ran at her, throwing her over his shoulder toward the door with Sam right behind him. Dean kicked the darkness and the light flooded the dark, blinding them momentarily as they moved through the door.

“Where the hell are we now?” Dean asked as he looked around the open field.

“Endurance?” Sam threw out the word like Dean should know what it meant. Kelsey squirmed in the older brother’s arms.

“Will you put me down please?” She asked, sounding her normal calm self again.

“Are you going to scratch me again?” Dean asked as he lowered her feet to the ground.

“I’m sorry,” She said wringing the hem of her shirt.

“It’s healed, like it never happened,” Sam said looking at Dean.

“What does endurance mean?” Dean asked, ignoring his brother’s statement. His face still stung even if the wound wasn’t there.

“It’s the third circle of the Spiral,” Sam said.

“So what was that?” Dean asked, jerking his thumb over his shoulder to the now no longer there door.

“Rage,” Kelsey said, wiping at the tears streaking her cheeks. “Sorry, it was like all the anger and frustration I’ve been holding on to without my sleep hit me like a tidal wave.”

“It’s okay,” Sam said, knowing that this realm would bring out the worst in all of them.

“It’s not, but we don’t have time for that,” Kelsey said.

“You know, not to kick a gift horse in the mouth but you seem much more together here,” Dean said looking at Kelsey’s clear eyes.

“This place is madness,” Kelsey said cryptically as she walked forward and down an almost limitless mountain.

“What the hell does that mean?” Dean asked, throwing his hands up.

“Maybe everything is top-see turvy here, and because of that the world makes sense to her?” Sam suggested taking off after her.

“Right,” Dean mumbled, rolling his eyes.

The group walked for what seemed like hours. They were tired and there was no end in sight to the landscape. Let alone a door or entryway.

“Do you think we missed it?” Sam asked concern crossing his face. None of them wanted to get stuck here and face the corruption of their souls that awaited them.

“I don’t think so,” Kelsey said as she did a slow circle to look around.

“If you say something cryptic and creepy, like the door will show up when we least expect it, I’ll-” Dean was interrupted and they all cried out in surprise as the ground literally fell out from beneath them.

~~~~~

“Well that hurt,” Kelsey groaned before looking around. “Sam? Dean?!” She cried out the names of the brothers looking for them frantically, before the chilling reality that she was alone struck her.

“All alone?” A voice called from the shadows of the temple. Her fall from the previous circle had brought her back inside.

“Who’s there?” She whimpered, as she started to walk through archways toward the voice.

“Sssomeone who knowss who you are,” the voice seemed to mock her. It stayed hidden in the shadow, but she assumed it belonged to one of the Naag, who resided and protected this part of the Spiral. It continued to hide away from where she could see.

“My master is looking for sssomeone like you. What is your name, foolish one?”

“I thought you knew who I was?” She chided.

“Sslip of the forked tongue. I know what you are.” The masculine voice corrected itself.

“I’m a person,” She said the sliver of doubt caused by her dream cracking back open.

“With a dead-end job, who wonders where they should truly be in the world. You are kind to people because they aren’t kind to you. But you have never felt like you really belong.” He sounded almost clinical in his appraisal of her. And it stung her just how close to the mark he had fallen.

“How do you know so much about me?” She asked as a tingling feeling had started to spread throughout her body starting at her toes and fingers. Her skin was becoming ethereal like she was fading out.

“We’ve been watching you. You have much doubt. This ss-circle is not for those who don’t believe in themselvesss.” He hissed a laugh.

“If you’ve been watching me, then you’ve been waiting for me. Why? Unless you knew I was coming here. But even I didn’t know I was coming here?” Kelsey was thinking in circles and stalling out. Her fear and exhaustion were starting to get to her as she continued to fade from her own few.

“Pleassse, Psssychic. You always knew this is the road you were going to take. Ever ssince you had that dream,” He spoke with a villainous laugh. Kelsey’s body was disappearing rapidly now as her doubt about her entire life ate her away.

“Psychic?” She whispered.

“Now, I will claim you as mine,” The Naag was suddenly in front of her. A hideously deformed beast that stood well over eight feet tall. It was haunched back on a thick tail and a cobra-like hood flared around its fanged head. Two meaty arms protruded from its sides with long menacing claws. Something grabbed Kelsey’s invisible arm and tugged her roughly.

“Sam?!” She cried as she flung herself around the tall man.

“I saw you first, but don’t thank me or anything,” She heard Dean mumble.

“What happened?” She asked, looking at the two men.

“We were separated from each other, but thankfully after walking through some of the interior structures, we walked through the door by accident. I don’t know what caused us to become visible to each other,” Sam explained, giving Dean a significant look. Kelsey would ask him about that later. Then she remembered what the Naag had said to her.

A Psychic, that meant that she knew what was going to happen here. A sinking feeling of dread fell like a rock in the pit of her stomach.

“Don’t let the Naag bite you,” She said realizing that her moment of silence might have seemed suspicious. “I saw one right before you grabbed me.”

“We haven’t seen anything,” Dean said, looking around with his shotgun lifted again. The agitation and fear of the men was palpable.

“And they never will,” A serpentine voice hissed in her ear. She spun around to see the Naag from the previous circle towering over her and Sam.

“RUN!” She screamed. Other Naags were audible in the distance as Sam and Dean didn’t ask questions and took off away from where the spirit was.

“There!” Dean called pointing his gun to the side. “There is the door.” The temple was starting to collapse around them. Heavy stone blocks falling all over.

“Kelsey, come on!” Sam called urging the girl to run faster. She cut the corner, dodging falling rubble just in time to see the Naag from before collide into Dean’s back. He howled in pain, the large body of the Naag fell from her view as the door and the other Naag closed in on them. Another smaller Naag latched onto Sam, just as Kelsey caught up to them.

They crashed through the doorway with the two Naags clawing for purchase on their skin.

“That was anticlimactic,” Kelsey groaned as the scenery had not changed between circles of the Spiral. “Be on the lookout!“

Kelsey grabbed the monster on Sam by an unidentifiable appendage and yanked, tugging it off of his back before it had time to bite him and claim him for itself.

“Find the door, I’ll get Dean. This is the last circle, so watch for the betrayal.” She was turning away and found the older Winchester staring at her. The look in his eye was murderous and she felt the air leave her chest as his arm struck her middle and sent her flying across the width of the large temple hallway.

“Guess you found it,” She muttered to herself weakly. She blinked repeatedly and shook her head to clear it, before clambering awkwardly off the ground. Dean was charging toward her and she sidestepped in time for him to slam into the wall and fall in a crumple.

She couldn’t see the Naag anywhere but knew that something had happened between Dean and it. She invoked her second sight, a thing she hadn’t realized she could do and saw the misshapen atrocity that was coiling itself around Dean’s essence. She sighed, knowing that this would be the one time Dean would be happy to know that the scars of his life were working for him as the Naag struggled to fit itself into all the grooves. She reached for the bite mark that marred the back of his shoulder-blade and worked her first two fingers into the infernal wound.

Dean howled in pain, as Kelsey’s fingers dug under his skin trying to reach the end of the Naag’s ethereal tail. Sam’s gun fired behind her but all she could do was hope that the rock salt affected the Naag, as she couldn’t let herself be distracted at this crucial moment. She exclaimed as she hooked her finger on the spirit then stood, ripping it from its almost settled location within Dean’s essence. Dean crumpled to the ground as the bite on his back healed like it never existed.

Kelsey flung the Naag spirit against the opposing wall and pulled Dean up from the ground.

“I found the door!” Sam shouted as he ran to join them and take Dean’s weight from her.

“Let’s go, we can’t waste anymore time,” Kelsey urged the brothers in front of her so she could keep an eye out for the other Naags she knew were close behind and Sam and Dean started to sprint for the door. She smiled to herself knowing they were within spitting distance as the door came into view.

Something snapped around Kelsey’s ankle and she gasped as the ground met her face rapidly.

“Pessssky little bitch,” the atrocious snake-man hissed as it pulled itself against her chest. “I liked him, but if you wanted me so badly,” It coiled its tail around her leg as if to cuddle itself close to her warm body. “All you had to do was say so.”

Kelsey uttered a blood-curdling shriek of pain as the millions of tiny dagger-like teeth sunk into her collarbone.

“Kelsey!” Sam cried as he heard her and turned to see the spirit disappear. He shoved Dean through the door and ran back over to her as her body started to convulse and bubbles formed around her slightly purple lips. “Shit,” Sam cursed as he worked to get his hand under her head to keep her from choking. The light behind the door was fading and unknown to Sam, more Naags were starting to come into the hallway.

Kelsey gasped and then sputtered like she had been drowning. Her eyes snapped open as she steadied herself.

“Come on, we have to get out of here,” Sam said standing her up and supporting her around the waist.

“You have to go,” She croaked as he half dragged her.

“I’m not gonna leave you,” Sam said firmly. They stepped through the door together, as claws from one of the Naags raked along Sam’s arm and grabbed Kelsey around the waist to try to pull her back through the door.

“Sam!” she screamed his name, terror was written on her face.

“Dean!” Sam shouted as he turned trying to get a better grip on the brunette. Dean came around to grab her as well and their combined strength was enough to balance out the strength of the Naag.

“Ssshhhhe’ss mine,” Kelsey gagged on the hiss as the Naag used her voice to speak.

“No,” Sam argued.

“Go on, Psssychic,” The spirit struggled with the word. “Tell them what you saw in your dream. Tell them how you knew this would happen and you came anyway.” Tears fell from Kelsey’s eyes as Sam’s face contorted with pain. She had known she wouldn’t make it, and she had come to save them anyway.

“I’m not going to let you die,” Sam grunted as he pulled doubly hard. A joint popped loudly in Kelsey’s arm.

“We’re not winning,” Dean growled lowly.

“Ssssshhe won’t die with me.” The Naag hissed like a dark soothing balm. Kelsey seemed to battle with herself momentarily as the claws around her waist pierced her flesh.

“Don’t worry, Sammy,” Dean tried to bolster his brother.

Kelsey’s body went limp suddenly and the brothers were pulled close to her face. Dean let go with the limited space of the doorway, and Kelsey grabbed Sam’s face with her free hand to kiss him deeply.

“Thank you,” She whispered against his stun-slack lips. “I will find you.”

She twisted her arm around, breaking his hold on her forearm and was pulled back through the door.

“And that’s where I wake up,” Kelsey finished her recount to the therapist who made little notes in his book. “If I’m honest, I’m tired. I haven’t dreamed since then. I just don’t know what to make of it.”

“Interesting,” The man muttered as he moved to put his notepad down. He stood, and something in his eyes caught Kelsey’s attention.

“Doc, you okay?” She asked fear causing her voice to shake. She was trying to be subtle in the way she scooted down the couch toward the door. “Doc?”

“He’sss long gone. But don’t worry, I think you’ve been looking for me,” His face contorted horrifically and she screamed as the door to the office slammed open. Sam and Dean rushed in weapons drawn, and their faces reflected her disgust at the evil spirit from her nightmare.

@waywardbaby @destielhoneybee @snffbeebee @deangirl7695 @spnbaby-67 @maddiepants @tabrown2021 @ladywinchester1967 @woodworthti666 @miraclesoflove @tumbler-tidbits @emilyshurley @akshi8278 @mannls @wendibird @bobasheebaby @flamencodiva @theoneandonlymelol @chelsea072498 @donnaintx @justsomedreaming @supernaturalenchanted @kalesrebellion @prettydeaneyes @emoryhemsworth @yourdommelb @idreamofplaid

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mechemeerkat · 5 years ago

Text

Short story: The Regret Machine

“So this is it?” I said to Jerome, after he ushered me into the test chamber. The device he’d been so keen to show me looked like an electric lantern. I frowned at the squat, grey cylinder with its fanned out chrome hat. Through slits in the cylinder I saw what looked like purple plastic housing a few wires.

“This is the time machine.” he beamed, undeterred by my apprehension.

“So… when will it send me?” His eyes darkened as he tilted his face down. Away from me, towards the machine on the floor.

“Whenever you want it to. It picks up on your memories when you come into contact with it. It’s kind of hard to steer, though. You end up going where you’re most hung up on something.”

I shrugged. “Great, so you’ve made a relive past trauma machine. I can’t wait to use it.”

He kept his head down. “Good, ‘cause I want you to try it right now.”

I could leave. I should leave. I should leave now. Jerome and I didn’t know each other that well. I saw him two weeks ago on the ice rink, we skated together, then I brought him home and slept with him. He said he was a scientist. I said he was a good lay. We’d been hanging out since. But this entire experience at his laboratory is one big red flag. This guy is insane and I should leave.

To my relief the door I came in through wasn’t locked, and he didn’t appear to follow me. I drove straight home and locked the doors. To put my mind at ease, I thought to put something on the record player. Flock of Seagulls seemed appropriate. An hour later he texted me while I was still humming “and I ran, I ran so far away…” He was blunt, but no moreso than he’d always been, which is honestly how I like my men.

Sorry I scared you back there. You probably think I’m crazy and want to call the cops. Attached below is all the info about my business they should need to launch a full investigation. You were a good lay too, ya know, so if I can, I’d love to go back to our casual thing. No further mention of my weird machine. A lot of people are weirder. I mean, it’s not like I listen to phish.

...

And I couldn’t argue with that, so we resumed banging. Outside of work we’d meet at the rec center. Depending on the day we’d work out or go ice skating. Jerome was a little short, but solidly built and kept pace with me well. On the ice he was a graceful spaz, which I thought was funny considering how sure of himself he was otherwise. (He certainly knew just when and how to put it in.) It was his erratic loops and sudden gliding leaps that first endeared him to me. We went on happily like this for some time.

One day I saw the article on the first page of the business section of the paper. I didn’t believe it. The next day a longer article about it made the front page. Breathing quickly, I called Jerome at work.

“You mean your ‘time machine’ malarky is real?”

“Oh did you see in the paper--”

“Yes I saw in the fucking paper! You tried to test a time machine on me and didn’t even try to explain it was real.”

“Hey, whoa! We’d tested extensively before I ever thought of inviting you. It’s completely safe.”

“You’re a sneaky little devil. Now I want a go!”

“You want a go?”

“I wanna go, babe.”

There was a pause while I hoped he was blushing, not doubting. Then he spoke. “Okay, let’s go.”

He explained it to me as we walked in to that familiar room. “Now it’s only one person at a time, so you have to go by yourself. Just touch the top with both hands, let your mind wander. It should take less than a minute. It won’t feel like you’re moving, just a flash of light and you’ll be there. To come back, just press the button on the bottom of it. If you get stuck, we can always safely pull you back from our end. Time flows normally on this end, so if you spend 20 minutes in the past, you’ll miss 20 minutes from now. Got it?”

Excitement eclipsed fear but I felt them both as I bounced uncontrollably up and down on my feet. I nodded shakily.

“Now here’s the kicker. While you’re there, you’ll be able to change things, but when you come back to the present, nothing’s changed.”

“What? Then it’s not a real time machine. It’s just a daydream machine.” I frowned at the enigmatic lantern for the second time while Jerome chuckled.

“That’s a good name for it, but it’s real. I’ll explain it later.”

He stepped out of the test chamber and reappeared at a window looking in. He gave me a friendly thumbs up.

...

I pressed my hands on the lid. It felt pleasantly cool on my warm, sweaty fingers. After a moment I felt different. The world glowed around me a bright, effusive white like sunshine on cottonwood fluff. I was outside, a warm Summer day, my grandparents’ house behind me. I lifted my hans off the silver lantern, hesitating. They stuck slightly, and as I brought them to my face I realized my bangs were longer and my beard was gone. I was 15. I remembered today. I tried to tell my grandma something, and I’d chickened out. In a few minutes she’d call me in for lunch and lemonade.

She did.

We ate quietly. I remembered I should do something different. That’s what I was here for.

“Grandma,” I said, louder than I had last time. “I have something to tell you.”

She sipped through her straw while giving an inquisitive “mmm?”

I swallowed. Bread crumbs felt sticky at the back of my throat. “There’s a boy I really like; he’s named Tyler.” You never forget your first crush’s name, but even so I felt it fresh at my lips, the way it had been last time. I really was here.

She didn’t say anything. Her face soured as she pulled away from her lemonade. I had to speak up now.

“Grandma, I’m gay.” My voice came out in a mild shout. Better too loud than too quiet though. She said nothing. Her gaze remained unfocused. Just like last time.

“Garage is lousy with cotton again. Why don’t you go sweep it out.”

I knew it! She had heard me the first time. She wouldn’t acknowledge me. She never really did after today. Now my fear hardened; it was a spear of righteous anger. I didn’t get up. I looked at her puckered, obscure face.

“Did you hear me? Did you hear what I said? I’m gay!”

“There’s no need to raise your voice, Daryl.”

“Then show me that you heard me by responding. Your grandson is gay. What’s your thoughts on that?”

Now she did something she hadn’t last time, or maybe she had, while I was sweeping out the garage. Her lips quivered pathetically for a few seconds, then she cried. She sobbed quietly, her eyes staining red around their sockets like a dog’s. Between her gasping breaths, a small, self-pitying voice squeaked out of her.

“I don’t want to think about it. It’s awful. I was hoping between you and your father that one of you wouldn’t be a disappointment.”

“You disgust me.” I glowered. With that I stepped back outside and hit the beady little button on the bottom of the time machine. Light flashed again. I was in the sterile testing chamber. I was older, my beard had returned, and I hadn’t started crying yet.

Jerome walked in. “What happened?”

“It worked.” My own despicable sobbing interrupted me. When I could, I yelled out at the room “What the fuck!?”

He put a hand on my shoulder and held it there firmly until my sobbing subsided. Then he asked “Who’d you meet?”

“My asshole grandma. It didn’t matter. She wouldn’t listen. I thought I could make her.”

“Then you figured it out. It’s not a daydream, a trick of the mind, because you can’t change anything you couldn’t change when it was the present. You can use this to see how things would’ve turned out if you’d acted differently, but you can’t change what you never could.”

“Why did you build this? It’s horrible.”

Jerome shrugged. “I don’t know. Sometimes not knowing was worse.”

I caught my breath. “Fair enough. Can we get out of here?”

“I have to finish work for the day, but I’ll meet you tonight?” He stared at me, hung in suspense.

“Okay.” I said. Wiping the last of the tears from my cheeks, my smile returned, weak but resolute. “Don’t do anything you’ll regret.”

I looked down at the time machine. “Though with this I’m sure you can find something.”

#short fiction #short story #time travel #m/m fiction #m/m #oof

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kevinsreviewcatalogue · 2 years ago

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Review: The Outwaters (2022)

The Outwaters (2022)

Rated R

Score: 4 out of 5

The Outwaters was recommended to me by two of my friends as a sort of "Blair Witch Project in the desert", a modern found-footage horror movie that takes the genre back to its roots: no pretense, no budget, just a camera with the lost footage of several people who went missing in the wilderness. Finding that it was actually playing at a theater near me, I hurried over to check it out this past Sunday once I'd seen what I came for during the Super Bowl (sorry, Eagles and Chiefs fans, I was only watching for the halftime show). What I got was a film where the first half fit that description, only for the second half to turn into something far weirder, a fever dream of a man sinking into insanity as... some kind of supernatural force in the Mojave Desert consumes him and his friends before ending on a spectacularly grisly and gory note. It's a movie that offers no definitive answers but a whole lot of suggestions as to what's really happening to these people, from cryptids to government experiments to something more eldritch to some mixture thereof, all told against the backdrop of stunning yet creepy vistas that hit close to home for a guy who spent eight months working and camping in the Utah desert in very similar environments. I left the theater feeling like I'd been sent for a loop. Make no mistake, this movie isn't for everyone, especially not those who like their horror movies straightforward. But if you have an idea of what you're in for, this one is truly rewarding.

We start with Robbie, an aspiring filmmaker (played by the film's writer and director Robbie Banfitch) who's shooting a music video for his friend, an indie singer-songwriter named Michelle. Recruiting his brother Scott and his friend Angela to help him out, the four head into the desert outside Los Angeles to camp for a few days and shoot their video, whereupon they start encountering strange phenomena, especially at night. Booms in the distance. Shadowy figures. The kind of thing that would make you pack your bags and head back home immediately, except it's already too late -- the desert has you now. What follows is a waking nightmare as everything simply goes straight to hell, possibly literally if you take certain scenes at face value.

The thing that this movie gets about found footage that so many lesser ripoffs of Blair Witch missed is that, in many ways, a proper three-act narrative structure is a liability. The purpose of the format is to convince you that you're watching the actual "lost footage" filmed by the protagonists, which isn't gonna obey the normal rules and conventions of a movie because reality doesn't work that way. It's why a lot of the first half of the movie has the main characters hanging out in LA and planning their trip, with lots of interludes to showcase Michelle's music video because that's what the characters were there to film. The characters' dialogue and actions feel loose and improvised, lending the feeling of grounded authenticity that found footage needs if you wanna take it seriously. Less Hollywood glamour and special effects, more mumblecore. It's why I grew to like these characters, flawed as they were as human beings in distinctly relatable and recognizable ways, and care about their survival once bad things started happening to them.

It's also why, once those bad things started happening and that grounded authenticity turned into something far more bizarre, it felt that much more shocking. Because this movie was still operating by those rules I just spoke of even as all manner of weird sights started unfolding on screen, from strange worm-like creatures that resembled skinned snakes to what can only be described as temporal anomalies. I felt disoriented and lost, trapped in a nightmare that it seemed like I would never wake up from, just as Robbie did as he held onto the camera for dear life and slowly but surely fell into madness (or is it?) As it turns out, found footage, with its sudden breaks and capturing as many mundane moments as important ones, is also incredible at capturing dream logic where you're trying to piece together what's happening around you and the rules no longer seem to apply. Banfitch took the beautiful desert vistas around him and made something askew and unsettling out of them, a film that had me on my toes throughout and wondering when I was going to wake up. It was a fairly long and brutal movie, but the journey I took with it was worth it.

The Bottom Line

The Outwaters is a hard film to really describe given its lack of cohesion, but I can say that it's the first found-footage film I've seen in a long while that actually seems to do something new with the genre, starting with ultra-real normality to set the stage for when it pulls the rug out from under you with a wicked and savage second half. If this is playing near you, seek it out.

#the outwaters #2022 #movies #movie review #horror #found footage #supernatural horror

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themathblogofsashanova · 3 years ago

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September 11, 2022: Rational Points, Deep Math Creatures, and Things Get Weird

As I continue with my exploration of the paper here, I found Michael Penn's video relatively helpful (we'll go into that later). I am now working through the fourth paragraph in this blog post. The proof states that the degree of the polynomial can be as large as necessary, so things can get very weird. It's easy to imagine x^3, for example, but it is not in any way easy to imagine x^20th. Nevertheless, the nature of the matter is such that these powers, regardless of how weird and wily they get, still have to finagle with some specific laws in math space. First of all, points that create shapes on algebraic sub-varieties, or sets/systems of solutions usually of the polynomial type (in fact, perhaps always of the polynomial type, though my understanding is not yet sufficient to understand the necessity there) must obviously have to be rational to exist. That means that any nature we derive theoretically must map actually somewhere on the intersections of all the component parts (see weird shape that resulted from such an operation above), and that even if we get it wrong, those points we observe do have a natural explanation. Yay. The creatures are not weirder than that, fortunately. Also, all fields operated on have to have an algebraic closure. More or less, this is the anti-flat earther statement of mathematics. Things have to fold in on each other, and there's a certain gravity to the possibilities supported by any given field. Finally, an irreducible subvariety means that it is within a given constraint, however, within that constraint, it cannot be further "gardened down" into seperate varieties. That's the math carrot, the math radish, or the math flower, whether you like it or not. It's not salad time over here, dude.

So far so good. We're getting there. Things I notice as I learn: I, again, don't understand why powers up to insanely complex magnitudes can be so reduced, other than reducing the whole function by a common denominator. But say you couldn't do it. It just strikes me as mind-boggling, but, it is mathematics.

Other things to note; there weren't any exceptionally strong videos on rational points. What didn't I like about the videos I found?

They don't explain the strategy behind the moves in a proof. They just show you how to do it. That doesn't relay a deeper understanding.

As usual, the why of solving the issue at hand isn't addressed either.

Both of these issues are problematic, as our mind needs relevancy and cause to learn best. Yes, we can show the mind how to do something, but if it doesn't know what for, as teachers we're going to get weak retention scores. And that's on us.

We'll see how things go from here. And of course I'll be looping back as I continue to get the bigger picture to see what new insights emerge from the returns.

#math journal #math journaling #math #algebra #subvarities #varieties

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darling-cas · 7 years ago

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Whatever It Takes: Chapter 7

ACOTAR Figure Skating AU

Summary: Nesta firmly believes that if you want something, you have to work your ass off for it. And she wants a National title attached to her name. But when her coach decides that a change in discipline is what Nesta needs, she’s far from impressed. Now, instead of training as a ladies single skater, she has to switch gears and skate as a pairs skater. And her partner? Someone she can’t stand. Non other than cocky, flirtatious, former Men’s skater Cassian. Edited by: @ilikebigbooks-and-icannotlie

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter | Masterlist

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Cassian finished tying up his skates before sitting up straighter. He took a moment to close his eyes, running a hand through his dark shoulder-length hair.

He was early for practice that morning. But he couldn't stay locked up in his apartment any longer or he would have gone insane. Ever since practice a few weeks ago, when Rhys and Feyre tried to help him and Nesta, the oldest Archeron sister had captivated his thoughts more than she normally did. And it was making him restless.

He didn’t know what had happened, what exactly had made Nesta skate off of the ice that day. Feyre wouldn't tell him, nor would she say what was talked about in the dressing room. And if Rhys knew anything, he was keeping a tight lip. All Cassian knew was that Nesta was more quiet than usual. She was still her stubborn hotheaded self. But more.. serene almost. Quieter. More guarded and caged. She only spoke to him when she had to. And even then it was only a word or two. It was as if she didn’t want to get too close to him, which he didn’t think was possible. They were already so distant.

The new version of Nesta - it was driving him insane.

It had never happened to him before. No other girl ever made him feel that way. Whatever it was.

Damn that woman.

Standing up, Cassian took in a deep breath. As if he were trying to clear his mind, to rid himself of all thoughts of Nesta Archeron. He threw his hair back in an elastic before grabbing the water bottle off of the bench next to him and making his way to the door.

The bitter icy air slapped him in the face the moment he stepped out of the heated dressing room. The sound of the zamboni leaving the ice bounced off of the rafters, along with the voices of the single skaters as they started to leave the rink, done with practice for the day.

Cassian walked towards the ice, looking out at the fresh, smooth surface, clean and ready to be marked up once again.

He still had almost an hour until the pairs were supposed to practice, but he couldn't resist the thought of stepping onto the new sparkling ice.

“You’re here early.”

Cassian placed his skate guards on the boards next to him as he turned around.

Mor was standing behind him. Her blonde hair was pulled back in a long braid, skating bag over her shoulder as she took a few steps towards him.

A smile formed on Cassian’s lips. “What can I say, I just can’t stay away from the rink.”

Mor didn’t respond however, just stared at him for a moment. She looked at him with a calculating eye and a raised eyebrow.

“What’s been up with you lately?” She finally asked. “You've been acting weirder than normal.”

Cassian stared back for a moment. Had he really been acting weird? He didn’t think he had been. Nesta was the one acting weird. Cassian was fine.

Unless Nesta was getting to him even more than he’d originally thought.

That damn woman.

And of course Mor would be the one to pick up on it. She’d known him just as long as Rhys had. They had a long - and slightly complicated, mind you - history. She was one of his best friends. So it honestly didn’t surprise him that she was the one to call him out.

Despite all of that though, Cassian found himself shrugging. “Nothing is up with me.”

“I call bullshit,” Mor said. “You’ve been weirder than normal these past few months. But even more so these past few weeks.”

There was a pause as Cassian tried to wrap his head around exactly what Mor was saying. He tried to think of what to say, how to back himself up. To prove how wrong she actually was - even if she was right. But he knew, deep down, it was no good. No one could lie to Mor.

But Cassian didn’t even have a chance to open his mouth. Mor raised an eyebrow at him and spoke before he could.

“It’s Nesta, isn’t it?” She said, leaning against the wall with crossed arms. “You definitely have a thing for her. Anyone can see it.”

Cassian would be lying if he said he wasn’t caught off guard. It was one thing to be feeling things for Nesta, even if he didn’t exactly know what those things were. But it was another to have someone call him out on it for the first time.

But it was in that moment, as Cassian looked into Mor’s deep brown eyes, that everything came rushing forward. All the confused, tangled, messy emotions he felt towards Nesta Archeron all but flooded his mind. He felt like he couldn't breathe.

He ran a hand through his hair, turning to glance at the ice. The words flew past his lips before he even realized what he was saying.

“I can’t stay away.” His voice was soft, raspy. “I can’t stay away and I can’t stop thinking about her and I don’t fucking know why.”

Mor stood next to him, her gaze following his.

A silence stretched on between them until Mor drew out a breath, fogging up the glass before her.

“I have a few ideas why.” She turned her brown gaze towards Cassian, expression unreadable.

“And they are?”

“I think you know already,” she simply said.

He looked back out onto the ice.

He knew Mor wasn’t going to say any more on the subject. Not that he wanted her to anyway. Because he knew - deep down, he knew what she meant.

He knew why he was acting that way - part of him did anyway. But he couldn't admit it to himself. He wouldn't admit it to himself. Because she was Nesta Archeron and he was foolish for feeling anything towards her. She was… She was…

“Babe.”

Cassian glanced over his shoulder as Mor turned around, a grin forming on her lips when her eyes landed on Andromache.

“Hey Cassian.” The dark-haired beauty waved before turning to her girlfriend. “Ready?”

Mor turned, hoisting her skating bag further up her shoulder before giving Cassian one last look, followed by a deep sigh.

“Watch yourself, Cass,” was all she said before she marched towards Andromache, the two leaving the rink hand in hand.

Cassian watched them go before turning back towards the ice, bracing his hands on the boards.

His mind was working a mile a minute. He couldn't focus on a single thought, a single word. Images kept flashing in his mind, mostly images of Nesta. Of that devastatingly beautiful and wicked woman.

He couldn't take it anymore. The thoughts, the images, they were all slowly driving him completely insane.

With a sharp breath, Cassian pushed off the boards, jumped onto the ice, and started to skate.

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

Nesta knew she was staring, but she couldn't help it. She couldn't not watch.

She had seen Cassian skate before. Hell, she had skated with him herself. And they had been to all the same competitions for the most part. But she had never actually watched him skate by himself before. Until that moment. And… holy shit.

He was unyielding. Powerful. Forceful. He skated as if he was born, groomed, and harden to do so. He was brutal, precise, deadly - beautiful. And yet, with every twist and turn, with every jump and spin, there was an underlying grace to it.

It was different from when he skated with her. He was more guarded, more cautious. But by himself, he was just that. Himself.

And it stole her breath away. Her heart to leaped as she watched him carve up the ice.

She didn’t mean to stop and stare. She was simply earlier for practice than she normally was. She’d planned to use the extra time to fit in some more hours of practice. But the moment she stepped through the rink doors, the sound of blades on the ice met her ears. That was when she’d found Cassian, and then found herself unable to look away.

It was also not helping her one bit in sorting out her thoughts.

After her talk with Feyre in the dressing room, her mind had been all over the place. It was frustrating, irritating, and annoying as all hell, but also confusing and heart wrenching.

Rhys and Cassian, they’re the good guys.

Feyre hadn’t mentioned the talk since it had happened. For the most part, they both acted like it hadn’t, even though they were less hostile towards each other after. Still, Nesta didn’t know what to make of what Feyre had said.

She hadn’t been with anyone since Tomas. Hadn’t had a desire to be with anyone since then. Her life was skating and skating was her life. And yet, when she looked at the man before her, a man that drove her completely and utterly insane, a man she wanted nothing more than to simply smile at her, she felt something. Something she wasn’t quite sure she wanted to figure out.

Nesta let out a frustrated sigh, about to make her way towards the dressing room, when she saw it.

She saw him line up the jump, she saw him set it up the toe loop before throwing himself in the air. She saw him spin, once… twice… a third time… and then...

She couldn't believe her eyes - eyes that she was sure were bulging out of her head as Cassian landed the quad toe perfectly, head held high before he turned around.

His eyes immediately locked with hers.

Nesta was speechless. She didn’t know what to say, what to do. It took a hell of a lot to make her freeze, to surprise her, but holy hell she couldn't help it right then.

It was only when Cassian raised a questioning eyebrow at her that Nesta took the slightest step closer to the ice - closer to Cassian.

“I didn’t know you could do a quad,” she breathed. “You’ve never done one at a competition before.”

Cassian held her gaze for a moment longer, hazel eyes unyielding. She could feel his gaze all the way to her toes, deep within her soul.

After a moment, Cassian shrugged.

“No, I haven’t.” That was all he said before skating off, clearly dismissing her.

For the second time in a span of a few moments, Nesta was at a loss for words. And she probably would have stood there for longer than she wanted to admit, if it wasn’t for the rink doors behind her opening and Rhys and Feyre walking in.

Swallowing hard, Nesta tore her gaze away from Cassian, her heart racing as she made her way into the dressing room.

She didn’t say anything, didn’t look up as Feyre walked in. Nesta simply threw on her skates, her fingers working on their own accord as they tightened the laces. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't get the image of Cassian pulling that quad out of her head.

And that look he gave her. That unreadable expression on his face, so unlike any he’d ever given her. There was no teasing, no sparkle in his eyes, no smirk pulling on his lips. His face was completely blank as he looked at her. What did that mean?

Nesta wanted to rip her hair out as she finished tying up her skates.

She didn’t want to care that much about why Cassian was looking at her a certain way.

But damn her. Because she fucking did.

With her mind reeling, Nesta stood up, Feyre not long behind her. The sisters locked eyes for the briefest moment before making their way out onto the ice without sharing a single word.

Nesta skated over to where Coach Carver and Cassian were standing, coming to a stop as she placed her water bottle on the boards.

“We have so much to do and not much time,” Coach Carver said in a way of greeting. “So here’s the plan. Do a quick warm up then we’ll do the routine from the beginning. I’ll make notes on everything that needs to be worked on, and we’ll go from there.”

Nesta nodded as Cassian mumbled a yes sir. But before she even had a chance to glance over at him, he was skating down the ice.

Coach Carver looked at her with a raised eyebrow, one that Nesta normally would have returned with a snappy comment. But her mind was buzzing, she couldn't think straight or make sense of what was going on herself. So she pretended she didn’t notice Coach and took off.

And by the time they got off the ice, she wanted to scream.

She’d be lying if she said practice got better as it went on. Because it didn’t.

Not that it was a bad practice, they had definitely had worse. However even when they had bad practices, Cassian still looked at her, talked to her.

Today, he would hardly look at her, hardly said two words to her.

It caused Nesta’s frustration to grow and grow until she felt ready to explode.

She didn’t know what she’d done to him, what she had said to make him distance himself from her, but she was going to find out. Their careers were at stake. Even she could put aside whatever she was feeling towards Cassian for her National title.

Zipping up her skating bag, Nesta stood up off the bench. She threw on her jacket, hardly glancing at Feyre as she walked out of the dressing room.

She stood there, marching back and forth as she waited for Cassian to walk out of the men's dressing room. Thankfully, she didn’t have to wait long. A moment later, Cassian walked out, Rhys not far behind him.

They were talking in hushed tones, but the moment they spotted her standing there, they stopped. Both of them turned their gazes to her. But it was Cassian’s that Nesta couldn't look away from. Those hazel eyes that seemed to sparkle in the stadium light. Eyes that held question, confusion, a number of things that Nesta couldn't bring herself to look further into. Eyes that haunted her every waking moment, eyes she saw every night, moments before sleep took her.

Nesta realized she could have stood there all night staring into those eyes, if it wasn’t for the raised eyebrow Cassian gave her. Or the sound of a dressing room door slamming shut behind her, followed by Feyre’s footsteps.

An audience. Great.

Clearing her throat, Nesta held her chin high, eyes hard as she looked at Cassian.

“We need to talk.”

“And on that note -” Rhys trailed off, giving Cassian a clap on the back before he and Feyre walked out of the rink. But Cassian didn’t so much as glance their way or bid them farewell. Neither did Nesta, not even when she felt Feyre glance over her shoulder at her.

Cassian crossed his arms over his chest, leaning against the wall behind him.

“You want to talk?”

“Yes.” Nesta’s voice was clipped, tight.

Cassian simply hummed, his eyes raking over her from head to toe. For the life of her she couldn’t get a read on his expression whatsoever.

A beat of silence passed by. Followed by another, then another. Nesta’s irritation level was growing, and she was just about to snap when Cassian pushed off of the wall.

He took two slow, careful steps towards her, and their eyes locked. It was only when he was standing inches away that he spoke.

“Have a drink with me.”

The closed off part of her was screaming at her to say no. Begging her to walk away. But with every passing moment, with every beat of her heart that secretly wanted - Nesta couldn't bring herself to listen to that part of her.

Gaze like frost, brows pinched, Nesta kept her eyes locked on those hazel orbs as she said just one word.

“Okay.”

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

“You’re a fucking idiot.”

Cassian’s laugh rumbled deep within him as he took a sip of his drink. He placed the glass on the bar, glancing over at Nesta. The dim lighting and smoky atmosphere caused her smoky eyes to all but glow. Her brassy hair was out of its normal ponytail, falling over her shoulder and down her back in long locks. Her expression was relaxed, lips lazy, and eyes glossy from all the drinks they’d had so far.

She was the most exquisite thing he’d ever seen.

Cassian couldn’t help but admire her beauty for a moment as he gave her an idle smile. “What for this time?”

Nesta turned to face him fully, elbow on the bar as she rested her cheek against her fist.

“You can do a quad,” she slurred slightly, “and yet for whatever reason, you’ve never done one at a competition.”

Cassian gave a lazy shrug, a smile plastered to his face. “I never had a need to.”

“Mhmm.” Nesta reached for her glass, draining the last of its contents. “Funny. I don’t recall you getting gold at Nationals these past few years.”

Cassian paused mid-drink. His gaze snapped towards her, only to find a sinful smile on those full lips.

“You,” he breathed, returning the smile, “are a wicked woman, Nesta Archeron.”

“I simply speak the truth, Cassian Guerrero,” she returned. “Now. Explain yourself.”

Cassian shook his head slightly, flagging down the bartender to refill their glasses. They were long past the point of Nesta fighting the idea of another drink.

“Sometimes,” he said, turning back to her, “it’s not all about winning.”

Nesta snorted a laugh. “Then why be in figure skating if you don’t want to win?”

“I didn’t say I don’t want to win. I’m just not as crazy about the idea as you.”

At any other point, that comment would have earned him a slap across the face. But this Nesta, drunk Nesta, simply laughed. An airy magical sound that Cassian wanted to bottle up and keep with him forever.

He wanted to see that version of Nesta more. The carefree version as opposed to the version who walked around with the weight of the world on her shoulders. He loved stubborn, hot-tempered, devastating Nesta. But as the sound washed over him, he made it his personal mission to make her laugh more. To make her smile more. To make her have fun.

Nesta took a sip of her re-filled glass before looking back up at Cassian.

“How did you get into skating?” She asked, catching him off guard.

Cassian met her gaze, those bright blue-grey eyes reminding him of light shining through a frosty window. And maybe it was all the drinks he’d had that night. Or maybe it was the genuine and sincere look on Nesta’s face, and how that look had his heart leaping in his chest. Either way, he found the smile slipping off his face, as his eyes trained on the wooden bar.

“My parents were pretty shit growing up,” he said, voice solemn. “I spent most of my time with Rhys and his family. Rhys’ mother was a big skater, she’d almost made it to the Olympics before she met Rhys’ father. That’s the reason they put Rhys through skating in the first place. Because of that, he spent a lot of his time at the rink. And the more time I spent with Rhys-”

“The more time you spent at the rink.”

Cassian lifted his gaze. He found Nesta’s gaze locked on him, glossy yet unyielding, as he nodded.

“She - Rhys’ mom - she put me through skating. And… I fell in love with it. She saw that and paid for everything for me until I was able to support myself, since my own parents wouldn’t give me a dime.” He couldn't keep the resentment out of his voice as he gripped his glass tighter.

There was a beat of silence. Just a beat, before Nesta spoke, her eyes never leaving him.

“Your parents?”

Cassian took a swig of his drink. “My mom died when I was 13, and I have no fucking clue where my dad is. Nor do I care honestly.”

A fact. Cassian hadn’t been in contact with his father for almost ten years. He wasn’t about to change that.

He finished his drink in one swallow, allowing the liquid to warm his blood as he watched the empty glass in his hand.

“She’s the one who taught us about skating,” he explained, voice soft. Such a contrast to just a few moments ago.

“Rhys’ mom?”

“Yeah,” he breathed. “She's the one who drilled it into our heads that it wasn’t just about winning. If you don’t have fun, if you just think about getting the gold, you’ll lose yourself completely. I… I owe everything to her. She saved me. Her and Rhys.”

Nesta never once took her eyes off of him. He could feel her gaze burning into his skin. As he finally lifted his own eyes to meet hers, he could basically see the wheels turning in her mind.

At last, a few words slipped past her lips. “Is she…?”

Cassian nodded, running a hand through his hair. “A few years ago.”

Nesta didn’t say anything to that, not as she finally took her eyes off Cassian. Not as she finished off her drink in one gulp. It was only when she placed her hand on Cassian’s knee, giving it a squeeze, that her eyes trained on him again.

Cassian almost jumped out of his skin at the touch. His eyes traveled from her slender hand to her eyes, and he knew in that moment, she was going to kill him.

Her hand jerked off his knee just as fast as it had been placed. After getting his drink refilled and taking a big sip, Cassian turned to her.

“Can I ask you a question?”

In the morning, he’d blame the question on all of the drinks. On the mood they had set between them. On the open and raw look in Nesta’s eyes and the talk about Rhys’ mom. But right then, he had to ask. Maybe that made him a dick, he didn’t know. But as Nesta nodded, turning to face him fully on her stool, he couldn’t help it as the words left his mouth.

“What happened between you and Tomas Mandray?”

Nesta’s back went ramrod straight, her eyes widening in shock, surprise. The question had clearly caught her off guard. And as she turned back to the bar, eyes trained on her drink, Cassian regretted even opening his mouth.

“It's not important,” she said at last, sipping from her glass. “It’s in the past, and I’ve moved on.”

Nothing was said for a long while. Nesta turned back to her drink, taking a slow, almost lazy sip. But her hand gripped the glass so tight her knuckles turned white. Her jaw was clenched. Her eyes held a far-off look in them, a pool of emotion swimming inside. So much anger and pain and a familiar suffering, although different from his own. But also, there was the underlying fear again, and suddenly Cassian was back at the hockey game. He remembered that same look in her eyes when she saw Tomas - the same stiffness, the same expression, the same-

Cassian couldn't stop himself as realization slowly spread through him, and anger started to simmer beneath his skin.

“Did he-”

“No.” Nesta’s voice was cold, firm. Cassian watched as she placed the glass down, hand shaking just the slightest bit. He didn’t dare speak as she closed her eyes tightly. But only a second passed before she ran a hand through her hair, a sigh leaving her lips. “He tried to, but I gave him a few good claw marks and a knee to the balls before it got far.”

Pure white hot anger swam through Cassian’s veins as he gripped his glass so tight, he thought it would break.

“I’ll kill him the next time I see him.”

A laugh flew past Nesta’s lips. A laugh that probably wouldn't have been as joyful if it wasn’t for all of the drinks.

“I can handle myself, you overprotective ass,” she said, looking back at him once more.

Despite himself, Cassian felt a grin form on his lips. “Oh believe me, I know.”

Hazel eyes locked with stormy grey ones. The smallest most stunning smile appeared on Nesta’s lips, and Cassian felt his stomach tighten at the sight. At the heated and glossy look in her eyes.

“Dance with me,” he whispered into the night, without even realizing what he was asking.

“Okay,” Nesta whispered back.

With a lopsided grin, Cassian stood up off the barstool. He stumbled slightly, liquor rushing to his head, before holding out his hand. And when Nesta’s fingers laced with his, it felt like flames were flying up his arm and gripping his heart, never letting go.

He led Nesta onto the dancefloor, a slow tune playing as he pulled her into his embrace.

It was different from all the times he’d held her in his arms on the ice, from every time he’d touched her hip or gripped her hand. More intimate. As he wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her flesh to him. As her arms snaked around his shoulders and her head rested on his shoulder. He knew it was probably because of all of the drinks - she was feeling tired and drowsy. But he still felt it deep within his soul. As he held that beautifully strong and fierce woman in his arms, every nerve and cell in his body felt it. And he couldn't stop the chuckle that left his lips.

“What are you laughing at?”

Cassian looked down to find Nesta watching him, her face so close to his.

“You,” he mumbled, pulling her closer as he shook his head. “You have your claws so deep in me you don’t even know, Nesta Archeron.”

“You’re drunk,” Nesta mumbled.

“No,” Cassian breathed. “Not that drunk.”

“Only someone drunk would say that.”

Cassian chuckled once more. And then, before he could stop himself, before he even knew what he was doing, he placed his lips on top of Nesta’s head, the kiss light as a feather.

He felt Nesta’s breath hitch as it tickled his neck. But neither of them moved. Neither of them spoke. They simply stayed in each other's embrace. For that night, they could get away with it. In the morning, they could blame it on the drinks, pretend it hadn’t happened if they so desired. But Cassian didn’t want to think about that.

No. For right then, he would continue to hold Nesta in his arms, both of them clinging onto one another. Holding on tight and never wanting to let go.

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heistcard · 7 years ago

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Starter for @5crow

Entry 1

Technically, this is the third time already, but for convinence, I’ll stick to 1, since it’s the first time I’m writing this down.

I’m pretty sure I’m stuck in a time loop. It’s the only explanation, and weirder thing’s have happened to me. I don’t know if it’s Igor, or something else. If he is responsible, he won’t spill. Just looks at me, can’t tell if it’s a “you’re crazy” look or a “I know but I’m not telling” one.

That guy creeps me out...

I’m getting off track. The point of this is going to be to write down what the fuck is happening and hopefully try and make more sense of it. Find a pattern, or something.

So far, whatever is doing this, keeps sending me back to the ship, to just before Akechi....

It has to be something to do with him, right?

Entry 2

Another 2 loops before something changed enough to warrant note. This time, I got sent back further, all the way to the start of the ship, not just to right before the fight. So it’s not a fixed point it’s sending me back to, but then is Akechi still the key, or is it something else?

Nothing else changed aside from that.

Entry 3, Loop 6

It’s been.....about 6 loops, maybe? It’s getting harder to keep track, which is concerning. Maybe I’ll start adding the loop number at the top.

Something changed again, it sent me all the way back to the start of Niijima-san’s Palace. I still feel like it has to be related to Akechi, I just don’t know how yet.

I still can’t change anything....maybe I need to try harder.

Entry 4, loop 10

It’s getting longer

Every loop is sending me back further, not always by much, but it’s getting longer. At least I’m getting more time to work things out, to try and change things, even if I’m still not exactly sure what I need to change.

It has to be Goro, I’m sure of it. I get snapped back every time he

I know it’s him, it’s him I have to stop, to save...

entry 5

i lost track, i can’t keep this up much longer, it’s insane

i’m nearly all the way back to when i first met goro, ive been repeating months for fuck knows how many loops and i still can’t change anything

not enough to save him

if i could just get the stubborn asshole to listen to me for once, maybe i could lead him away from his choices...

i just don’t want to see him die again

i cant

Akira sighed shakily, one hand gripping his messy hair, the other with a chewed Biro poised over a tattered looking notebook. Only one line is written, hastily scrawled and then crossed out again. No entry, no loop, just-

i think i’m falling for goro

He’s so fucked.

Who would have guessed loop after loop of living the same few months would have endeared him so much to someone who betrayed him and shot him in the head.

Multiple. Times. Even despite everything he’d tried so far.

It was the start of June, he had several days until he was ‘supposed’ to meet Goro for the first time.

“Fuck that” He mumbled to himself, viciously shutting the notebook and tossing it to the side. It was something, for some reason, he still hadn’t tried yet. Meeting Goro sooner.

Maybe if he took the chance to meet him without Ann and Ryuji, without him overhearing Morgana....maybe that could be the start of finally finding a turning point...

So Akira set out on a mission, Morgana back at the cafe for once.

He was going to check each and every place he ever remembered Goro visiting or mentioning, over and over until he ran into him.

After that? Well, he’d cross that bridge when it came to it.

#5crow #VIII: 𝓗𝓮𝓪𝓽𝓱𝓪𝔃𝓮 #ngl that tag is 100% a reference to kagerou daze #ALSO LOOK I FINALLY DID IT

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paisleywraith · 7 years ago

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Curses, curses. Chapter 10

Junior year is often considered the most difficult year of high school. Kyle would agree with that on a regular day, he didn’t need some magical bullshit wriggling its fingers at him and turning him into an ass-old Bill Murray movie reboot.

Kyle knew how this went. He wanted to- say something, anyway. To Stan. He knew staying home from school and then going over to Stan’s house would mean getting the other boy alone. His sister was out and his mom was working until late that night. Good old Stan, who so long as Kyle didn’t tell him about the loop, was a ray of sunshine in this insanity.

He greeted the kid by pulling into a hug. Kyle wasn’t exactly against personal touching, but he didn’t really grab people and hold them close like this. Which clearly was being noticed.

“Kyle?” Stan reached around him, hugging his childhood friend close. Words tumbled out of his mouth in alarm. “What happened? Are you okay? You weren’t at school today. Was it something at home?”

Kyle just soaked in the attention. Let himself absorb it. And then pushed himself out of the hug, holding a bewildered Stan by the shoulders and speaking fiercely.

“I’m sorry I’m a fucking asshole,” Kyle said firmly. “I’ve been one for a while and I’m sorry. I suck.”

“Uhhhhh…” Stan clearly wasn’t sure what to do with that.

“I’m going to make this up to you. Both. You and Kenny.”

“Kenny?” Stan repeated slowly, brows scrunching.

“I had some self-reflection.” Kyle said with a note of finality.

“Okay,” Stan said, trying to redirect to a point. “And that was why you skipped school?”

“Let’s go bother Kenny,” Kyle said rather than answer, grabbing Stan by the hand. “He won’t have gotten to work yet.”

“Kyle, is this-” Stan stumbled along after him. “This isn’t even a real conversation, Kyle, what are you trying to say?”

Stan was clearly uncomfortable. Kyle knew that, but it wasn’t like he could change it. He wasn’t acting like himself, he didn’t feel like himself, he wasn’t even sure he was himself.

He was scared. He was so scared.

Nothing mattered. Nothing mattered.

They more or less literally ran into Kenny, Kyle knew what time he started the walk to work, he’d be around the area by the time they left and turned out his timing was even better than he thought.

Kenny was crossing the yard. Glancing up when heard the door and grinning, the blond stopped to wave, looking pleased when Kyle dragged Stan into his path.

“Well hey, superduo.” Kenny drawled. “What-”

Kyle didn’t hesitate to reach his arms out for Kenny, who started visibly before reaching to sweep him into a hug. He could feel the surprise, causing Kenny to be stiff rather than relax against him like he liked to, but as long as he wasn’t pushed off, he didn’t care. He just wanted to center himself. He needed the comfort, the reassurance.

“What’s this, Ky?” Kenny’s lighthearted tone was marred by alarm.

“He’s acting really weird,” Stan said, stepping closer to the two. Kyle could feel him rest a hand against his back. Kyle buried his face further into Kenny. It didn’t matter that they were looking at him like he was crazy.

“Kyle?” Kenny gently nudged him to look up, and then froze, blue eyes flicking between Kyle’s. He could see the taller boy come to some sort of a decision.

With a stony expression taking over, Kenny grabbed Kyle by the sleeves and pulled him away from the brunet.

“Give us a second, Stanny-boy!” Kenny called, voice light and grip tight. As soon as they were out of earshot of Stan, who stood behind them biting his lip, Kenny whirled around.

Mosaic eyes were hard, icy as they were under a mask. Kyle looked up, staring at the bizarre look. He’d never seen it without a hood over his face.

“What happened.” Kenny’s voice even deepened, eyes unblinking and fiery. “Kyle. Talk to me.”

“Stuck in a time loop.” Kyle was so tired of saying it. The shaking was starting again. He was never getting out of this. “Reliving Thursday over and over. You call it a curse. We tried so many things. Nothing works. You believe me, though. You can’t die.”

Kenny withdrew, and immediately his grip tightened until it hurt.

“Holy shit, Kyle.” Kenny hadn’t reacted like this in- ever, actually. Something new. Kyle held onto it. Kenny was staring at him with wild eyes. “You look awful.”

“I don’t know what day it is,” Kyle babbled, words spilling off his lips. He was broken, he was over, there wasn’t anything of him left. He lost everything familiar as soon as he forgot. “I don’t know how long it’s been. I forgot. I don’t remember.”

“Okay, it’s okay.” Kenny was freaking out too, Kyle knew. The ice had dissipated in those eyes, leaving Kenny more vulnerable. Easier to read. “Take a breath, Ky. I got you.”

Kyle took a breath, not that it helped.

“I left town yesterday,” He mentioned, feeling raw and empty. He couldn’t feel afraid, couldn’t even feel angry. “I forgot what time. I think it was yesterday. I’m losing my mind, I’m losing my goddamn mind, I almost- I thought about stepping into the street and I…did, nothing happened and they saw me and passed but I tried and I think I’m- I’m losing my mind, Ken…”

Kenny had a look in his eyes that made Kyle trail off. He’d understand, Kyle knew, but the raw punched-gut look on his face was unexpected.

Kenny leaned in.

He kissed his forehead.

Just a sweet gesture, much like his family had given him as a child, a soft smak sound and a gentle ruffle of his hair.

And then he let go, cupping Kyle’s cheeks for a second and running his thumbs over his cheeks before turning and striding towards their other friend.

“Stan, watch him, please.” Kenny said, clapping the guy on the shoulder. “I’ll be back.”

“What’s going on?” Stan demanded, face pale.

“He’s not feeling good, Stan, just look after him for a bit, okay?” Kenny switched directions, he was headed the opposite direction. Why? Kyle’s mind was too fuzzy to think properly.

“Where are you going?” Stan asked, now with an arm around a shaking Kyle’s shoulders.

“Experimenting.”

Stan looked between a shaking, pale redhead who looked like he hadn’t slept in weeks (He’d looked fine yesterday?) and a stoic, cold blond walking away from them.

Clearly Kyle needed his help more than Kenny, so Stan merely waved.

“You need to get back home,” Stan said, ready to take charge. It was needed at this point. He steeled himself. “C’mon, dude. You don’t look great.”

Stan wrapped a blanket around his friend, plopping down next to him on the couch.

Kyle was curled up, taking deep breaths and with a mug of tea in his hands. Stan regarded him with a worried expression in his gentle eyes. Kyle didn’t look anything like himself, in baggy clothes and deep bags under his eyes and his hair a disastrous mess.

Kyle’s greenish eyes flicked up. Then back to his drink.

“Where did Kenny go?” Kyle asked, almost devoid of infliction. At least he’d stopped looking like he was about to run down the street screaming.

“Dunno,” Stan said, pulling his legs up onto the couch to sit cross-legged. “He said he’d be back.”

“Mmn.” Kyle hummed. He fidgeted with the fringe on his blanket.

The two boys sat there for a while, shoulder to shoulder.

“I need to tell you something,” Kyle said, more quiet and focused than he’d been all night. “You have to swear you won’t tell anyone.”

“Okay?” Stan’s eyes were huge.

“It’s not anything-” Kyle shrugged both his shoulders, glaring down into his mug.

Stan leaned, trying to get a look at Kyle’s face.

“I like Kenny,” Kyle said finally, tapping his fingernails against ceramic. Stan’s eyes only got wider. “And I thought that would go away, but it hasn’t.”

“Holy shit, dude.” Stan gulped down the rest of the sentence and thought for a second first. Holy shit. “That’s awesome!”

Kyle turned, slowly, looking like Stan had grown an extra head. “What?”

Stan grinned, throwing an arm over his shoulder as be babbled excitedly. “I could see this! You’re both all smart, Kenny’s got the laid back, chill thing going and you’re a total perfectionist. You fuss and Kenny loves being fussed over. Plus I’m like, 90 percent sure he’s into you. You’re all he talks about some times.” He paused, taking a breath. “Dude. Nice.”

“I-” That was a lot to process. Kyle picked out the last thing to focus on. “He talks about me?”

“Yup.” Stan looked smug. “Always asking what you’re doing, how you’re doing, do you still like this, do you remember that, the guy’s probably obsessed with you. Shocking, right? Especially since, you know. You pretty much ditched him.”

Kyle colored. “I didn’t ditch him!”

“You ditched him,” Stan stubbornly held onto. “We hit high school and you stopped hanging with Kenny entirely, man.”

“It got weird!” Kyle protested, fire coming back into his eyes as his face grew hotter. “I couldn’t look at him the same anymore. It was fucking weird.”

It was waking up on day and realizing he had to tilt his head up to look at Kenny. It was noticing weird, super gay things, like his smile with endearingly crooked teeth, the way his eyes and nose scrunched up when he laughed. Trying not to laugh at bad jokes and raunchy humor as Kenny grinned over for approval. Then it really started getting weirder, like him noticing the shape of his collarbone when he wore baggy shirts and the neck dipped down, admiring the tan he got in the summer and how his hair looked blonder in the sun. The way he felt pressed against Kyle in a hug, fuck, the way he breathed somehow became interesting.

Like waking up and finding his world shifted, that Kenny was still Kenny, of course, but that Kenny now had a special place in his heart. That these physical differences were important, but now everything was being noticed. Turned up 100% and now it couldn’t be unnoticed. His admiration for Kenny’s kindness towards the people he liked, and loved, even if it cost himself something. Kenny’s vast, vast capability to love. His resilience and defiance to become what everyone expected of the weird, poor kid in elementary. Working full time, supporting his family, still going to school and due to graduate with very acceptable grades. Kyle was damn proud. Kyle might have grand aspirations, but Kenny was already an incredible person in his eyes. It frightened him how strongly he felt that. Felt all of it.

It had been too much. Way too much. With everyone on the horizon, having to pick a university, a career, moving out and finding his place in the world, throwing a crush into the mix would have been annoying. The crush moving into something all-encompassing and taking him over had finally made it unbearable. As Kyle had thought many times, Kenny was a regret. He pushed him away and he shouldn’t have, but by the time he realized it he thought it was too late.

“I don’t know why I thought it would stop,” Kyle said out loud, staring into his tea with a hazy look. Stan stared, intrigued. He scowled, trying to recall the still-familiar sensation of kissing Kenny. Feeling a smile against his lips. “It isn’t going to.”

“Wow.” Stan looked thrilled at this outcome, which probably should have worried Kyle. “You and Kenny. That’s amazing.” He inhaled sharply then, choking momentarily. He took a gulp of his hot chocolate before continuing. “You are going to tell him. Right Kyle?” The last words were very pointed. Kyle huffed.

“Yeah.” He made up his mind on that already. “Just…not now. I need to- I need to think about what I’m going to say. And…I’d like to make things up to him.” And Stan, of course, but he couldn’t quite say that a second time without feeling like a tool.

“Yeah,” Stan nearly parroted thoughtfully. “But you definitely need to say something before too long.”

That snapped Kyle back to attention.

“Why?” Kyle looked alarmed, hands tightened around his mug. Stan followed the movement with confusion.

“Just…because you should?” Stan watched Kyle relax. “Why’d it take you so long to say something in the first place?”

“I mean,” Kyle shrugged again, looking embarrassed. “I didn’t think I was, uh-”

“Sure,” Stan said, becoming equally embarrassed just as quickly. “But Kenny likes, uh…both.”

“Yes.” Kyle squirmed. “I just didn’t know I did.”

Both boys were quiet for a moment before Kyle spoke up again.

“You think he’d be cool with it?” He asked, feeling like a moron for even opening his mouth. Particularly when Kenny seemed perfectly happy yesterday when Kyle randomly kissed him in the street.

“Oh yeah.” Stan actually laughed. “Just…trust me on this. Go for it, dude.”

Kyle smiled finally, faint but visible, leaning back against the couch. “I will. Eventually.”

Once he had the right things to say. Once he made it up to him somewhat. Once he stopped feeling like a bad human being. Once everything was okay. Once he was out of the time loop, and could talk to Kenny about what happened, about Kenny being killed off in horrendous ways while he watched, when he had time to build back up their friendship and make up for every day he tried to forget the blond existed. Kyle’s eyes trailed to the clock above the mantle. He stopped breathing.

“Stan,” He said, much more calmly than he felt. “What does the clock say?”

Stan glanced up at the roman numerals happily ticking away. “It’s about one. You want to stay over?” Kyle didn’t answer, forcing him to look over. The redhead was so pale Stan felt his heart jump. “Kyle?”

12:47 a.m.

Friday.

#sp k2 #k2 #kenny mccormick #kyle x kenny #kyle broflovski #PaisleyWrites #bit darker chapter but nothing too bad honestly #implication really but you'll get it #comin around the bend here but we haven't even gotten to the main plot really #hopefully I'm making this all coherent we'll see soon #stan marsh #Stan being a darling #Stan knows shit Kyle don't

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shiyaki · 8 years ago

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Symphony 1

Pairing: Vishous / Butch aka Dhestroyer

Fandoms: Black Dagger Brotherhood

Summary: “I can’t believe I’m asking this, but I guess weirder things have happened, true? You’re in a time loop?”

Warnings: Temporary character death, swearing, violence

“Hey Cop, feeling better?”

„V, already finished your rounds?” Butch raised his hand in greeting, but didn’t bother looking away from the TV in front of him or providing an update on his current state of health. “Hey, do ya know anyone who’s good at playing the piano? Or making ice sculptures?”

From the corner of his eye he noticed Vishous stop in mid-motion, the gloveless hand no longer seeking a self-rolled cigarette and the right foot still raised from nudging the door closed. Even without seeing it, he could vividly imagine the current ‘what the fuck’-expression on his best friend’s face. Butch’s lips curled into a wistful grin. Incredulity was a good look on the other male; every expression was a good look on him except for that one. The one burned into Butch’s soul and which he never ever wanted to experience again.

“Why? Did the transition knock loose more than a sudden appreciation for chocolate? What’s up with the sudden art enthusiasm?” V ribbed after a short moment of silence and lowered his hand, the cigarette apparently forgotten for the moment. He approached the couch, where he spent a full minute watching Bill Murray tinkling the ivories on the widescreen. “You’re watching Grounddog Day…”

“Yup.” Ignoring Vishous’ judgingly raised eyebrow, Butch stuffed a bite of the huge, extra-cheese pizza, with cheesy crust into his mouth. He didn’t even feel guilty about the amount of fat he was currently consuming. Besides a vampire’s ridiculously quick metabolism, which would be the envy of every and all eating contest participants worldwide, the calories wouldn’t be a problem for more than a few days.

V’s piercing gaze wandered from the side of Butch’s head to the half-emptied bottle of Lagavulin and the stack of DVDs on the coffee table, then he picked up the latter. His diamond colored eyes quickly skimmed the synopses on the back covers and with each one the furrows on V’s forehead became more pronounced. Finally he dropped the movies back onto the table and eyed Butch bemusedly.

“You must be really bored. A time loop marathon, Cop?”

Butch silently stared back at Vishous, chewing away on another mouthful and using the time to ponder the situation. Did he want V to know? It wasn’t like it was going to help his plight, but… Well, who was he kidding? Of course he wanted him to know. He wanted him to know and keep knowing and he wanted a lot of other things that were out of his reach.

“It’s kinda soothing.” Butch averted his gaze from V’s half lidded eyes and hissed in annoyance when he shifted and irritated his still sensitive skin. “They’re caught in a loop, forced to experience the same day time and time again, while everyone around them forgets. It’s slowly driving them insane, because they have no idea how to escape and they’re starting to do stupid things, but…” A pair of black boots appeared in front of him seconds before two heavy hands settled on his shoulders.

“Butch?”

“… But in the end they fix whatever the fuck needs fixing and then they’re on their merry way to the future,” Butch finished and closed his eyes. His mouth had run away with him, but he honestly didn’t care, he was just so tired and sick of this.

“You don’t sound all that soothed,” Vishous assessed. It seemed more like an afterthought, though the squeeze to Butch’s shoulder felt earnest. “I can’t believe I’m asking this, but I guess weirder things have happened, true? You’re in a time loop?”

Butch wasn’t too surprised that V had jumped to that conclusion based on his ramblings or that the other vampire seemed to give the idea some real consideration. He was great like that. “Always knew you were a smart guy. Or, I guess, bright spark fits you better, with the glowy thing and stuff.” The remark earned him a punch to the shoulder, but he just grinned.

Vishous fetched a still unopened bottle of Grey Goose and a tumbler from the kitchen and threw his leather jacket over the backrest of the couch, before he dropped down next to Butch. While unscrewing the cap, V side-eyed him, his gaze filled with curiosity and concern.

“So… how long have you been at this?”

“Can’t really say. A year maybe?” Butch put the rest of his pizza slice back into the box and wiped the grease off his fingers with one of the tissues he had located nearby for other, more personal substances. “It’s hard to keep track, especially because it’s not just a day but nine. The loop begins during my transition, which sucks ass by the way, and lasts until the day of my initial initiation into the Brotherhood.”

Vishous forwent the tumbler and took a pull right on the bottle. Then another one. “Tell me everything, maybe we can find out what’s causing it.” “Oh, I know what started all of this. Your-… uh… the Scribe Virgin apparently had some-“

“Wait! My what?” V narrowed his eyes at him, but Butch firmly shook his head and cursed his slip of the tongue.

“Nope, forget what I just said. Buddy, please believe me when I say that you don’t want to know. And honestly? I don’t want to tell ya, especially not now. The last time I was there to witness you getting this information ya went all phoenix or dragon or some shit and turned several buildings into dust.”

Vishous was full out glaring at him now and looked about ready to shake or punch the truth out of Butch, but that hadn’t intimidated him (much) when he had still been a human and it certainly wouldn’t now. Five minutes into their staring match, V huffed and his glare subsided to a ‘This ain’t over’- narrowing of his eyes. Butch barely managed to suppress his grin.

“So, as I was saying, before you so rudely interrupted me, the Scribe Virgin had some sort of vision after my initiation, but things weren’t right for it to come true, so she started this damn time loop and it won’t stop until I achieve whatever it is that leads to her picture perfect future. And because she’s an unhelpful bitch, she refuses to tell me what she saw. Only on the last day, by the way, before then she has no clue what’s going on.” Butch had never seen V’s eyes get this big and he had seen a lot of expressions on the other vampire’s face. Huh…

“Please tell me you have never called her that to her face, Cop,” Vishous muttered despairingly into his hands, after he’d buried his face in them. The shock had apparently dissipated the remaining irritation completely.

“I did actually. Once. Didn’t end well, but it’s still the truth. Anyway, I’m taking this loop off, as they say.” It was still ridiculous that he could say such a thing in any plausible context.

“But-“

“No. V…” Butch dragged a hand through his hair and uttered a bone-deep sigh. “I know this is new for you, but I promise, I’ve already told ya all of this. Repeatedly. I’ve told you and the rest of the Brotherhood and Marissa and… Hell, I talked to Rhevenge once or twice. I’ve tried so many different things and I always wake up to the feeling of every damn bone in my body breaking and the knowledge that I have yet again failed at whatever the Scribe Virgin wants me to do. I just… Please don’t get on my case for a few days of time-out.”

For a long, almost unbearable moment, silence was Butch’s only answer. He didn’t dare look at Vishous’ face to gauge his reaction, so he startled a bit, when the other vampire got up. Instead of leaving, however, V swapped the DVD in the DVD player and sat back down. He pressed the play button on the remote control, when the main menu popped up and settled his legs on the table after snatching one of the pizza slices.

“I don’t know anything about piano playing or ice sculpturing, but I can show you some blacksmithing, true?”

Some of the tension drained out of Butch’s body, enough for a small grin to appear on his lips. “And baking bread?”

“What?” V raised a disbelieving eyebrow. Totally unnecessary in Butch’s opinion.

“Well, you… not you you obviously, but a you said that ya bake awesome bread. I’m curious if that’s the truth.”

V mouthed ‘a you’ and shook his head. “Stop talking, before I get more of a headache than I already have. But okay. I guess, we can put baking bread on the list, too.”

~*~

Vishous was utterly frustrated with the situation and being covered in flour from head to toe didn’t even factor in. Though how Butch had managed to turn the kitchen into a winter wonderland or a cocaine drug bust gone wrong (depending on the one being asked) was still beyond him.

No, the main reason was this whole time loop business.

Sure, it was hard to wrap his mind around the concept, but V did believe Butch. The expressions he had seen on his best friend’s face the previous night would have been enough to convince him, but the cop also moved like he had had a fuckton of time getting used to his new body. There were also the new skills in dematerialization, knife throwing and the Old Language. Not to mention the information Butch evidently was and shouldn’t be privy to.

V didn’t know which issue to tackle first. The apparent connection he shared with the Scribe Virgin and finding out what other stuff Butch had dug up on him? Just imagining that the cop knew about his lovely five-star stay in Bloodletter’s camp turned his stomach.

Maybe he should first focus on puzzling out how to stop this time loop shit, before Butch really went loopy. He was already on his best way to the loony bin, it seemed. Why else would they be standing in the Pit’s kitchen, channeling girl scouts? What next? Would they collaborate with Rhevenge and sell hash cookies in ZeroSums for a good cause?

Anyway, Butch had mentioned… other Vs (what the fuck?) coming up with ideas, which had ultimately ended in failure, but that didn’t mean he would just sit around on his ass and twiddle his thumbs. He would indulge Butch’s wish for a week-long time-out, though, because he really, really looked like he needed one and V was pathetically whipped, when it came to the cop. Hopefully he wouldn’t come up with anything too outrageous, like robbing a bank… Huh, that could be pretty interesting, actually. Not the ski-mask wearing, bank clerk threatening take on things, of course, more of an Ocean 11 kinda thing.

“Sorry about dumping this on ya,” Butch muttered, looking up from the dough he was kneading dutifully. He looked fucking ridiculous with the wannabe salt and pepper hair and the smudge on his cheek. “Know you have enough on your plate at the moment, buddy.” His gaze flickered to V’s twitching eyelid, which was usually covered by his, well, their Red Sox cap. Vishous hadn’t bothered wearing it in the Pit. Butch probably knew all about it, anyway, including what his nightmare was about. That was a whole new nightmare in the making to be honest…

“Don’t rack your brain about it, Cop, true?” V nodded to the dough, while his hands deftly worked on a self-rolled. “Throw a towel over that and leave it alone for an hour or so.” A smirk curled the corner of his lips. “You can use that time to play Cinderella and scrub the kitchen clean.”

And Vishous would spend it working on… something, as long as he was far away from Butch and the cop’s growing problem.

Fucking post-trans horniness.

#vutch #black dagger brotherhood #black dagger #butch #butch o'neal #dhestroyer #vishous #slash #fanfiction #vishous/butch #butch/vishous

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stillthewordgirl · 8 years ago

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LOT/CC fic: Central City Rendezvous, Ch. 11 of 14

Rip Hunter never came for the Legends. But maybe some meetings are meant to be. (Captain Canary, of course!) An AU.

Thanks to @larielromeniel for the beta. I own nothing! (*grumble*)

This one is a little shorter than some, and if it reads like the second half of chapter 10 ... well, it sort of was. :) AU takes place during events of the Flash episode “The Runaway Dinosaur.”

Also can be read here on AO3 or here on FF.net.

It's a somewhat grumpy and discouraged group that finally makes it back to S.T.A.R. Labs, engendering a wave of reactions in Cisco Ramon that would be fairly amusing, Leonard thinks, if he wasn't so goddamned annoyed.

"Mick Rory? Heatwave?" Ramon gapes at the grinning Mick as he saunters openly into the room with the rest. "Oh, nononononono... oh, hi, Ray. Kendra!? Oh, wow. Wait, what happened to..."

"Differences of opinion," the woman tells him mildly, with a smile. "Carter and I… parted ways. Ray said Central City could use some help."

"Yes! Um..." Cisco glances at Ray, who's earnestly chatting with Iris. "Right..."

The inventor notices the glance and walks back over. "So, um... we sort of need to find this zombie again. Cisco…”

Leonard snorts as he makes his way carefully into the Cortex. This is not how a Snart... this Snart... plans out operations, he thinks, collapsing into a chair. He’s gotten… well. Maybe not precisely soft. But out of practice at the precise plotting and planning a well-executed heist entails.

Working with Sara has been exhilarating in its own right. (He smirks a little, watching her cross the room, enjoying the view.) But with an enemy like this Girder, and a group that’s not just the two of them, it’s different.

Closing his eyes, he finally entertains the thought that’s been lurking in the back of his brain since he’d hit the concrete in the Big Belly Burger parking lot … and wonders again if maybe it isn’t time to leave.

Cut his losses. Let his wounds mend. Let the insanity ruling Central City shake down a bit before sniffing back around to see what opportunities are available for an enterprising crook and… and…

His mind just doesn’t want to go there.

Someone nudges his shoulder, interrupting his train of thought. Sara’s returned, holding out the ankle brace he should have been wearing. Her glare says that he better put it on, and so he accepts it without a word. She smiles a little, shakes her head at him, and then turns to perch on the arm of the chair, close enough that he could slip an arm around her waist if he wanted to.

He wants to.

He can’t leave. He can’t. Not while his city’s this open to things like this Girder, like this Zoom, who apparently killed seven cops while he and Sara had been holed up in the safe house and who seems dedicated to being a force for the type of chaos Leonard just can’t stand. If Wells is correct—and there’s no reason he wouldn’t be—eventually there will be nowhere left to run.

And not while Barry is still MIA. While his feelings on Central City’s speedster are complicated—he’ll admit that—running off while his fate’s unknown just doesn’t feel right.

And not while Sara won’t go with him.

And she won’t. There’s simply no way. Whatever fragile thing they have, it’s no match for her pure drive to be a hero, to help people. It’s who she is. He glances up at her, takes in her profile as she watches the others discussing metahuman apps and Girder’s probable whereabouts, and thinks about card games and fighting side by side and long hours in bed…

“So! If he’s probably at the West’s house, are we going to go get him?” Palmer’s voice is plaintive. And when Leonard looks over at him, the other man is looking a trifle lost, casting about the room as if looking for someone to tell him what to do.

Well. They do need a plan. And now Sara’s looking down at him, a little smile playing about her lips, and damned if maybe she didn’t know exactly what he was thinking all along….

Leonard Snart sighs… and levers himself to his feet, resigning himself to his fate.

“That thing’s metal, more or less,” he says. “I laid out the plan before, although we didn’t get a full chance to carry it out. Mick heats it up as much as possible, then I hit it with ice. I don’t think I have to tell you what that combination does to metal.”

Palmer looks intrigued. “Makes it brittle,” he says. “So… what do Sara, Kendra and I do?”

Leonard shrugs. “Distract him. Make sure he stays in metal form. Make sure no civilians get in the way. And when I’ve cooled him down…”

“Shatter him.” Kendra’s voice is low. “It’s a good plan.”

“Of course it is.” Turning, he offers Sara a hand. She accepts it, getting to her feet, and smiles at him.

But into this silence, then, comes a new noise: the low hum of the heat gun.

Mick’s standing, primed gun in hand, and he’s sweeping it back and forth to cover them all, more or less.

"I don't know what the hell he thinks he's doing," he says, staring at Leonard. "But I'm no hero. Sure, it was fun frying zombie ass, but I’m not putting my life on the line for nothin’. There are other cities. Why would…”

"I'll pay you."

At this point, everyone, including Mick, turns to stare at Ray Palmer, who colors faintly, but looks stubborn.

"I'm rich,” he says to Mick. “Well, sort of. Not as much as I used to be. But enough to make it worth your while. What’s a good take in a heist? Hit me.”

Mick snorts, but hesitates… and then names a sizable figure, one that Leonard knows perfectly well is far more than he’d be pulling in on anything other than one of Len’s elaborately planned jewel heists, enough that he won’t have to pull anything else for months.

And Palmer nods. “Done,” he says. “But you have to see this out. After that... well... we'll renegotiate."

Mick stares at him, then lowers the gun and shakes his head.

“I’m in,” he says, “for now.”

Palmer takes a deep breath, then looks at Leonard. “And you? Is that what it’s going to take?”

He’s actually surprised at the fury that sparks momentarily. Hasn’t he been protecting the city pro bono over the past few weeks with Sara? Wasn’t he the one out there about to get flattened by a fuckin’ meta zombie? And isn’t…

A noise from Sara, though, distracts him from his own anger, and he glances at her to see utter rage in her eyes as she glares at Palmer, who, showing an ounce of self-preservation, takes a wary step back. The hawk woman steps to his side, watching Sara, and Mick watches them all, and this whole thing could go downhill really fast…

Which will serve no purpose whatsoever.

He puts a hand on Sara’s shoulder, and when she looks at him, he meets her eyes, trying to convey gratitude and understanding and…

"Got my own reasons," he says shortly to Palmer, still holding Sara's gaze. "So, they say he’s probably heading for the West residence? I just happen to already know where that is..."

It is a good plan.

They lure and herd Girder off the quiet city street to a vacant lot in an area when the resulting fallout can’t damage much, then put Leonard’s plot into motion. While Ray and Kendra and Sara herself harry the lumbering meta zombie from one side and then another, keeping him off base and in his metal form, Len and Mick move around them, alternately heating and freezing him until he finally slows to a stop, metal body stressed to the breaking point by the forces of physics.

Palmer moves into position then, readying his weapons… when what seems to be a shooting star in human form careens right through their midst, smashing into the metal form with a resounding crash and sending chunks of stressed metal everywhere.

The fiery figure loops back into the air, then comes to a rest at the spot when the animated form of a dead man once stood.

"Whoo!" it crows, with a young man’s voice. "That was awesome!”

This spectacle earns a long moment of silence, even from Ray, whom Leonard had started to suspect never really stopped talking. It's eventually Mick who, lowering his weapon, shakes his head in amazement.

"This day," he informs the fiery man, "just keeps getting weirder and weirder."

The figure tilts its head and then, with a low rush of air, glows brighter for a moment before separating into two figures who step away from each other as the flames die.

The shorter of the two, an older, bespectacled man who looks like nothing so much as an absent-minded professor, shakes his head.

"Was that," he says, distaste dripping from his voice as he scans the group, "a zombie?"

The other man, much younger and with the build of an athlete, laughs out loud and stretches, looking around at the startled faces around him.

"Like I said," he adds with a grin, "awesome."

The fiery man, it turns out, is two people in one superhuman form: Martin Stein (the older man, who is indeed a professor) and Jefferson “call me Jax” Jackson, who takes his older counterpart’s lectures with a combination of fond exasperation and annoyed frustration. They’d apparently also been among the help Cisco’d called in when Barry’d vanished, although Leonard, listening to the two sides of “Firestorm” bicker as they all head back to S.T.A.R. Labs, thinks to himself to perhaps they have some issues to work out as a bit more of a priority.

But then, don’t they all.

The members of their little group, flush with the success of the operation, are chattering amongst themselves as they head down the corridor toward the Cortex. Leonard, bringing up the rear side by side (and hand in hand) with Sara, shakes his head in amusement—but then frowns as he notices the silence falling the moment each of them reaches the Cortex. He slows, squeezing Sara's fingers in warning, then lets his other hand drift down to rest on his gun...

… and stops dead in his tracks as they emerge into the room.

Barry Allen, grinning, stands there with Joe and Iris, Cisco and Wells and Henry Allen, still wearing his ridiculous red costume and taking in the group with a smile that just grows wider when he sees Leonard and Sara.

“Hi, guys,” he says, spreading his hands out in front of him. “Thanks for the assist. But I’m back!”

Leonard stares at him a long moment... and then snorts.

"Whatever," he tosses over his shoulder as he steps around the bemused speedster and heads for the elevator. "I need a shower."

Barry, as it happens, has returned from an experience with what he seems to believe is the Speed Force itself. He’s woken Jessie Wells with a mere touch of his hand, and he seems to have a renewed store of faith that he’s meant, destined even, to defeat Zoom and bring balance to the force… or something like that.

But Leonard just can’t seem to shake the feeling that something’s about to go sideways. He stands in the Cortex and watches the impromptu welcome-home celebration, frowning, until Sara shakes her head, makes him take a drink, and insinuates herself under his arm, leaning against him in a way that once would have had him running, but honestly just feels right.

“What’s bugging you?” she asks finally. “And don’t tell me ‘nothing.’ ”

He owes her the courtesy of honesty. "Barry seems to think everything's sunshine and rainbows now," he says slowly. "But...”

“It just doesn’t work that way,” Sara finishes. “So, what are you thinking?"

He exchanges a long look with her, then turns again to look at the group. Mick is regarding Palmer with an expression that seems to be equal parts amusement and bewilderment as the armored man jabbers on at him about dwarf star alloy and astrophysics. The hawk woman... Kendra... is speaking with some animation to the professor (whom he thinks he's met at one point, though he can't recall precisely how) while the kid is watching her with an expression of great appreciation.

A motley crew, to be sure, but... he's worked with worse.

And he can work with this. He can work with them.

"If Barry's not going to be ready for the worst," he says slowly. "We will be."

#captain canary #fanfic #legends of tomorrow #the flash #central city rendezous

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wastedwishesandhope · 8 years ago

Text

Nyctophilia

Those three words left his thin- lips sends unexplainable intensity into her heart. It feels like a loud noise made the whole place inaudible. Her heart skipped a beat, blood rushed into her veins, sanity has soon left her mind, and goosebumps invade her whole body.

Anna doesn’t know what’s going on, or if this is really happening. This shouldn’t be happening. This will be a blood- bath ending between the three of them.

“What..?” she said almost a whisper.

Kim Taehyung stared at her for solid five seconds. His thick eyebrows stayed motionless and his eyes staring deeply into hers. The rapid beat of her heart talks so much of her situation right now. An awkward silence took all over the place. Nobody wants to break the silence, no one tried to escape the impending doom of their fate.

A few seconds later, a loud noise cracks the silence that has been putting them into their awkward position. Her eyebrows furrowed as soon as his lips formed into smile and cackle.

Anna started to feel weird when Taehyung suddenly snorted into a laugh. She’s just watching him while the other guy was laughing terribly and holding his stomach trying to calm his self.

“Could you please tell me what the fck is going on with you?” she asked infuriated.

The boy tried to answer but he just fell on his knees, still can’t stop his self from laughing too much. The whole bedroom filled with his loud laugh but Anna stayed still just waiting for him to stop from his insanity. Tears soon started coming out from his eyes due to laughing so much.

“Cut the shit Taehyung. You’re getting weirder each day,” she said now.

Taehyung stood up from kneeling on the floor and wipe the tears in his eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he said still trying to hold his laugh, “But I really can't stop laughing every time I remember how you turned pale when I said I like you,” then he started laughing again.

“Fck you I swear! When will you stop tripping on me?!” she yelled and tried to grab the pillows as quickly as she can then hit him with it. Taehyung instantly runs to escape and covered his face with his arms.

“You really think I like you? Like I’m falling in love with you?! The hell Anna, why so gullible?!” he teased.

When she aimed for another attack, Taehyung finally run for his life and went outside his bedroom so fast. The whole house now filled in with yelling Anna who keeps threatening him with his death and Taehyung who’s laughing so loud like there’s no tomorrow.

They’re both panting when they reach the dining area where Mrs. Kim and Jimin looked at them both with face expressions wondering what’s the noise is all about. Anna stopped on her feet when her eyes landed to her angel’s face, she cannot identify what's running inside his mind, but based on his face, he seems not interested in the things that going on between her and his best friend- Taehyung.

“What did you just do again this time, Kim Taehyung?” Mrs. Kim asked.

Anna remembers those three words slipped in his mouth, and she didn’t control the warm blushed crept on her cheeks. She’s supposed to not being so affected by it, especially that everything was just a joke, but she can’t deny the level of his acting that it literally swept her feet off.

“I was just joking around, mom!” he answered still laughing and took a seat next to still quiet Park Jimin.

Jimin just looked at his bestfriend then turned his head to look at her girlfriend too. He watched her blushing so hard and he didn’t like it. He heard her thoughts and that confirms his suspicion. Anna didn’t budge on her place and still standing beside the dining table.

“Anna, c’mon dear, its getting late now, let’s eat,” Mrs. Kim said and pulled the chair in front of her so she can take a seat now.

I like you..

A boiling rage grew inside him when he heard those words from her girlfriend mind. It's Kim Taehyung’s voice and she’s thinking about it. He saw how Anna shook his head trying to get rid of the toxic thoughts but it was too late now.

Jimin can’t handle the emotions any longer and he bolted upright on his chair, making them yelped in surprised. They all looked at him wondering what he is up to. Anna felt a chaos coming up to them, her heart raised again and she gulped for courage. They all both jolt on their chairs when Jimin suddenly grabbed his best friends arms and almost threw him off to the wall. Glad Mrs. Kim was attentive and she stopped him immediately. Anna stood up from her chair too with her shaking knees.

“What’s going on?!” Mrs. Kim yelled still holding to Jimin’s hands that’s still holding his son’s arms so tight. They all can see the muscles on Taehyung’s skin, a sign that his blood flows stopped because of how tight his grasp was.

“Chim?” he asked worriedly.

Anna runs to his boyfriend side and grabs his hands to make him calm down.

“What did you just said to my princess?” Jimin asked in a low voice that made him look scarier than he was shouting. He looks like he’s going to kill someone despite it's his best friend.

Taehyung swallowed so hard, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down. He stared back at his best friend's eyes and thought he suddenly turned into a stranger to him in just a split of seconds. He felt his arms turning numb now but he’s more concern on the anger that his friend had for him.

“Jimin, I was just playing around. I will never go against you, and you know that.” He answered in stern voice.

Jimin didn’t budge on his place but his grasp loosened up a bit, his fingers marked now on his skin, and it looked like it will not lay off for weeks.

“Chim, you can read my mind, and you can even identify if I’m lying to you or not, I will never steal your princess to you. Stop being so paranoid and obsessive, you’re scaring not just me, but my mom!”

With that, Park Jimin finally let go of his arms. Anna saw how the veins on his neck slowly eased down and disappeared. He almost set off.

“I’m sorry..” Jimin said and lowered his head. He run his hand through his hair. He can’t believe how he suddenly almost blew off in front of them, especially to Yeosin and Anna.

“No, it’s my fault. I shouldn’t have done that. I know I’m getting beyond the boundaries. I’m sorry Jimin, its not my intention to hurt you or to start any issues here.” Taehyung apologized too and put his hands to his best friends shoulder.

Mrs. Kim took a deep breath and tried to calm herself down after what happened. She grabbed the glass filled in with water and took it in just a matter of seconds.

“I’m sorry, I was just too exhausted and my mind was preoccupied with stupid things. Damn!” he cursed incoherently.

Anna just holding his hand, patiently waiting for him to calm down. She’s worried about him, he seems like he’s hiding so many things to her, he always looks so tired and it's making her worried.

“Look what you’ve done Taehyung.” Mrs. Kim scolds.

Kim Taehyung scratch the back of his head and said, “Sorry, I’ll start knowing my limits now,”

Jimin suddenly pulled his hand off from her grasp and that made her shock. She can’t explain how that simple move hurt her so bad.

“I think I need rest, don’t worry I’m still full. You go eat now, don’t worry about me,” he excused and leave the dining room.

Mrs. Kim hit his son’s butt and Anna followed his angel after.

“I think I need to talk to him,” she excused herself also. When she’s about to leave, she stopped when Taehyung called out her name, she looked back at him and waited for him to talk.

“I’m sorry, I started going below the belt, but we’re good right? I really didn’t mean to cause any trouble to your relationship,” he said sincerely.

She just nods to acknowledge his apology, “Lesson learned. Maybe it's just a bad timing,” she said and smiled at him then leave the dining room totally.

— — —

Anna hadn’t realized she was holding her breath while standing outside the bedroom where her angel has probably lain down on the bed already. She took a deep breath to calm her tense body, three knocks yet no one from the inside answered, but despite that, she still hold and turned the doorknob to open the door.

Darkness and silence flooded the whole room. Lights off, windows closed and it seems like nobody was there till she heard a silent breath coming from the dark loop.

“Angel..” she called out for him yet no one answered.

She closed the door behind her and waited till her eyes adjusted in the dark. She saw a figure of a man lying down on the bed with his arms covering his eyes. She followed the sound of his breath so that she can trace where he’s directly located.

Anna slowly walked to the bed, using her hands and feet to find if somethings blocking her way. When her knees finally hit the edge of the bed, there she leaned down to traced her fingers into the soft mattress. She sat down on the bed and exhaled a tired breath through her lips.

She waited for almost half a minute.

They both stayed in the darkness and silence, feeling their warm breaths and slow heart beats. No sound can be heard yet the silent souls has been piercing through their ears. Their exhausted feeling and heart are distracting the peace they supposed to be getting now.

“Jimin..” she finally opened her mouth again, his breath answered and telling her enough that he’s awake.

“I can understand if you don’t want to talk to anything yet, I just want to sit beside you,” she said again.

She felt a movement behind her, the bed plopped down and a tight hug from behind occurred. He didn’t talk, he stayed quiet but that’s all enough to prompt her he’s not okay. He dug his face on the crook of her neck and felt his lips touched her skin. His hold on her frame tightened and his fingers traced her hands.

“I won't be asking you what's really going on, I’ll wait till you feel like you’re open talking about it, just remember I’ll be staying here, and I’ll patiently wait for you,” she said between her breaths.

His arms tightened more and his deep breath answered again.

The darkness witnessed the exhaustion of the man’s heart. The walls stared at their linking bodies like an art. She had never thanked the darkness before, But now a euphoric feeling has finally soared.

“Can you stay here tonight?” he finally spoke. Anna smiled and just nods her head.

After quite some time, they both laid down the bed, he rested his head on her chest and a vulnerable Park Jimin cuddling her now. She wrapped her hands around his shoulders. Jimin reached up to lace their fingers together.

An hour has passed and Anna started to doze off, but her eyes flew open again when she heard him talked. For no apparent reason, she pretends that she was asleep now.

“I’m sorry..” Jimin said, she heard a hitched on his voice and it sounds like he’s controlling something to explode.

She quickly closed her eyes again when she felt he moved and looked up to check her. This time, Jimin leaned against the headboard and pulled her to make her head rest on his chest now. They literally switched position and she’s loving it. A warmth lips touched her head but the tone of his breath makes her wonder what’s really going on to her angel.

“I’m sorry princess if I scared you, and if I sound obsessive. I’m just afraid to lose you, and I don’t think I can imagine waking up in the morning with the reality that we cannot be together.”

Anna fought her heavy eyes & the urge of sleeping to stay awake and continue listening to his every word, but she’s too exhausted and didn’t notice she finally fell asleep in his arms.

And maybe we’re just like the sun and the moon- deeply in love with each other but too different to exist side by side.

#JiAnna Jimin Anna

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