#not me sitting here typing out a message to Cass with some uh... Thoughts about this man
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Ash IG Story
#is this a 3 second video? yes. did i still screech and act like my entire world was forever altered when i watched it? obviously 🤡#5sos#5 seconds of summer#ashton irwin#ashton#ai ig#instagram#video#eternity speedway#kh4f post#not me sitting here typing out a message to Cass with some uh... Thoughts about this man#and then a notification from him jumpscares me just as i hit send 😌✌🏻#we have fun#i love this jacket#his pants are tight#happy Thursday everyone 😛
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"Clark's Phone Number"
Summary: Detective!Jason Todd x detective!Reader based on Jake and Amy’s relationship
Series Warnings: Swearing, descriptions of violence (but nothing descriptive), guns and other police stuff
Series Masterlist
Cass and Steph’s phones pinged at the same time. Steph scanned the message then called over to Damian, “shouldn’t we be using the other group chat for this?”
Damian glared and typed something on his phone. The message was: I doubt we need Richard or Timothy for this revelation. Are they truly as invested in this cause as we are?
Dick created the group chat in the first place, Steph reminded her friends.
“We’re sitting a couple feet away from each other,” Cass deadpanned. “Why are we even using the group chat?”
Because it’s more entertaining, Damian wrote while maintaining eye contact with Cass.
Anyone else notice that Todd and L/n aren’t here? Dick stopped their bickering by typing away in the larger, all-encompassing, precinct group chat that was titled Operation Lovebird. The group chat with everyone, including Y/n and Jason was graciously named Practically Hell, courtesy of Y/n, due to the six-six being “only one six away from Hell.”
Al Ghul was just mentioning it in The Best Ones, Cass replied.
Why do you guys even *have* another group chat? Tim asked.
Because we’re ‘The Best Ones.’ Obviously. Steph added the eye-roll emoji.
Just tell us what’s happening with Operation Lovebird!!! Dick demanded.
All we know is that they’re both gone, Steph said.
If you were better detectives, you would’ve noticed the culprits entering the copy room together. Captain Wayne’s contact suddenly popped up on everyone’s screen.
A plethora of messages popped up after his comment, including:
Dick: Culprits???!!!!! Brucie, why???
Tim: Why is Captain in this chat again? No offence, sir.
Wayne: None taken.
Steph: omg are they…
Steph: … you know?
Cass: Fucking?
Steph: NO!!!
Steph: Smooching, obvi.
Damian: Brown, please. Stop maiming my eyes with your typed words.
Tim: Though, seriously, what are they doing?
Wayne: Pull the security tapes and meet me in my office.
There was a scrambling around the precinct as the detectives (and Damian) ran to Wayne’s office. “Does anyone have the surveillance tapes?” the captain asked. The detectives glanced around and slowly shook their heads. Wayne groaned and commanded, “Cain, grab the tapes.”
Once Cass did as she was directed, Tim used Wayne’s computer and pulled the tapes onto the screen.
On the tape, Jason stood in the copy room, glancing around anxiously as he fiddled senselessly with the machine. Y/n’s figure appeared on screen and she shuffled into the room, calling out to anyone who would listen, “yeah, I'm just gonna make some copies in here. In the copy room. Heh. Perfect cover. Nailed it.”
“Hey…” Jason waved awkwardly to his coworker. “Hi… Y/n…”
“Jason,” Y/n stepped towards him, smiling devilishly. “Why’d you wanna meet me here?” Her grin showed that she knew exactly why Jason wanted to talk to her. “To boink? At work?!” She gasped dramatically. “Todd, I expected better of you!”
Jason’s cheeks flamed up and Y/n congratulated herself on making the buff, six foot tall detective stutter. “No…” He said, “I wanted to talk about uh, Brian and Lacy.”
“Ah… yeah. Brian and Lacy,” Y/n nodded her head, demeanour shifting. “What about them? I thought they were a pretty cute couple.”
“So did I,” Jason admitted softly. He took a step forward until Y/n could simply reach out and touch him. He had a faint bruise on the underside of his jaw from an incident with a criminal half a week ago. He stared down at his colleague, his gaze filled with agonised hope. “Brian wanted to ask Lacy on an official date.”
Y/n’s heart was being cleaved in half and sewn back up again by Jason’s own hands. “What about Brian’s old girlfriend, Daisy? Lacy was pretty sure that Brian was making googly-eyes at Daisy during their last meeting.”
“Just to be clear, Daisy being Rose?”
“Yeah.”
“Brian went on a couple dates with Daisy,” Jason continued, “but soon realised that Daisy couldn’t hold a small, dying match to Y/n’s burning, beautiful fire.”
“I thought her name was Lacy,” Y/n whispered. Jason’s chest rose and fell and he moved even closer to her. Jason reached up towards her face and swiped the pad of his thumb along her cheek. He angled Y/n’s face up so he could finally look into her eyes with the redamancy and forelsket that had been stored away for so many years.
“Yeah, well,” a corner of his lips curved into a knowing smirk. “I just made Lacy blush, which is usually an impossible feat.”
“You flatter me, Brian,” Y/n said. “It’s clear that you take your words straight from a romance novel. You spend too much time reading.” She reached up and brushed a tuft of hair away from Jason’s face. Her words were teasing, but her actions were careful.
“My words aren’t from a romance novel,” Jason reassured her. “They’re from the heart- yeah, no, I hear it now. A little too cheesy, huh?”
Y/n shrugged and said, “I rather enjoyed it.” She relished the feeling of Jason’s touch on her skin. She hoped to feel it more often. “Your kissing could improve, though,” she referenced their impromptu kiss at the restaurant.
Jason chuckled lightly. “I doubt that. You seemed to like it a lot.” He spoke lightly while memorising her face. “So, what do you say to a date, darling?”
“Darling?” Y/n asked. “I thought I was the one with the nicknames.”
Jason shook his head. “I think I’ve found your ten.”
“And now you’ve stolen my quips. Love, you’ve already stolen my heart. Soon I’m gonna see you in the interrogation room.”
“I bet you’d love to see me in handcuffs.”
Y/n’s mouth fell open and she let out a shocked laugh. “Mr. Todd! That’s no way to speak to a lady!”
Jason’s hand was still cupping Y/n’s cheek and his other hand drew up to trace meaningless patterns on her forearm. “Does this mean you say ‘yes’ to the date?”
“What if it makes working together awkward?” Y/n’s hand clutched onto the fabric of his shirt.
“Then we’ll be awkward together,” he answered easily. “I want this too much for a little awkwardness to get in the way. I want you too much, Y/n.”
“I wanna try this,” she decided after a moment. “I want you too. Tonight? At eight?”
Jason nodded quickly, afraid she would take it back. “That sounds absolutely perfect.”
Y/n stared at him and she couldn’t seem to place the expression on his face. It had a softness that looked suspiciously like love. His cheeks held a pink tint and his eyes gazed down at her and Jason knew he would spend the rest of his life holding her if he could. After a moment, Y/n realised, heart jumping, that Jason looked like he was in love. “We should probably get back to work before they realise we’re missing,” Y/n said slowly.
Jason nodded and moved towards the door, not before taking Y/n in his arms and pressing a lingering kiss to her forehead. “Should we tell the rest of the team? he asked quietly.
“Probably not,” Y/n said. “They would get way too involved.”
“Should we tell them we’re spying on them?” Tim asked from inside Wayne’s office where the rest of the six-six was still crowded around the computer which displayed Y/n and Jason.
A chorus of ‘no’s and shushing erupted from everyone else and Steph squealed, “oh! They’re finally together! I’m over the moon! They’re adorable!”
“Brown, will your fangirling get in the way of your work?” Wayne asked, smiling slightly.
“Yes, definitely!”
Wayne sighed. “Understandable.”
“Well, what are you looking for?” Jason asked. “Symbolism and overall themes or simply personal enjoyment?”
“Both,” Y/n took a lick of her ice cream, legs swinging happily under the park bench.
“The Great Gatsby for symbolism and overall themes,” he answered after a minute of thinking. “And then my favourite book is Pride and Prejudice.”
“Yeah, I definitely knew that one,” Y/n nodded. “You’ve read it a thousand times in the precinct.” She shook her head, “I’ve tried to get through that book, man, but I don’t get the hype over it. Granted, I’ve never been able to get through the first five chapters.”
Jason began ranting about Pride and Prejudice before shaking his head in defeat and asking, “what’s your favourite book? Please don’t let it be Goddess Girls or Geronimo Stilton or some other children's series.”
“No, although those were great series.” She pointed her spoon at Jason accusingly. “As I’ve grown up and matured, it’s either The Fault in Our Stars, Memoirs of a Geisha, All Quiet on the Western Front, or Ella Minnow Pea.”
Jason stared at her and finally said, “those are all very different books. Honestly, I’m surprised you’ve even read four books.”
Y/n punched him in the arm. “How dare you! I’m very well-read! You should see the length of my Ao3 history!”
Jason laughed loudly and cradled his ‘hurt’ arm. “I’m sorry I underestimated you, Y/n.”
“You better be!” Y/n crossed her arms before finishing off her ice cream. “Now I’m not gonna have sex with you until our fifth date.”
Jason let out a dramatic groan. “I don’t know if I can wait that long, sweetheart.”
“Keep calling me ‘sweetheart’ and you may not have to.”
“How was the daaaaaate?” Steph used her wheely chair to roll up to Y/n’s desk, grinning cheekily. She waved a finger in Jason and Y/n’s direction. “What is this, huh? Casual? Serious? I need to know how to make fun of you. Also, please get married in a barn ‘cause I have a lot of jokes that are centred around that.”
“How’d you know about the date?” Jason asked.
“You guys are officially dating?” Dick was walking by when he paused and placed a firm hand on Jason’s chair.
Y/n looked at Jason helplessly. “...yes?” she said quietly. “Maybe?”
Dick and Steph exchanged a look. “This isn’t good,” Dick said.
“We said we weren't gonna tell anyone,” Y/n explained. “It's very new, and we're still figuring it out, you know?”
“Enough.” Dick stated. “Look, I love love, but I also love maintaining a professional work environment. As your commanding officer, I’m kinda disappointed in both of you.” He bent down and added in a stage-whisper, “but as you loving friend who sees himself as a father-or-brother figure to both of you, I adore you two dating and hope that it works out. Kori and I have a big binder left over from our wedding full of ideas and samples we’d be happy to lend you. Please lemme give a toast at the wedding.”
”I already have mine written,” Steph admitted excitedly.
Y/n’s head fell into her hands and Jason cursed Dick under his breath. Dick had to admit, Jason’s curses were getting more creative.
Bonus Scene:
“You guys have a group chat dedicated to us?!” Y/n cried out.
“Why wouldn’t we?” Dick chuckled. “It’s where we share blackmail, cute updates, and random stuff related to you guys.”
Y/n snatched Damian’s phone away, the closest person to her and much to his protest. “I can’t believe-” She scrolled through the messages before realising, “wait, I’m sorry, what are our contact names, Dami?”
“It’s simple.” Damian explained, “Richard is Moby Dick. Todd is Bamboozled from when he was drunk and said it out of context. Drake is obviously CCA which stands for Computer/Coffee Addict. Y/n is Da Best Homie because she set up her own contact and I haven’t gotten around to changing it. Stephanie is Titus because she reminds me of my valiant and excitable dog. Cain is Cassandra Cain and Wayne is Captain Bruce Wayne. I also have Clark’s number and he’s listed as Mr. Clark Kent.”
“I don’t know whether to be offended or unsurprised,” Dick mumbled.
“At least you’re a classic novel,” Steph crossed her arms. “I’m named after a dog.”
“Steph, you’re literally the epitome of a joyful dog.”
“Aw, thanks!”
“You have Clark’s number?” Y/n murmured to Damian, “can I have it?”
“No.”
Not my fav way to do it and I would probably rewrite it, but it's already on ao3 so... *shrug*
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If you don't tell them, at least tell me
Summary
When they are in public, Sam never acts like he and Bucky are together and never mentions that they are a couple. Bucky begins to have doubts...
Or 5 times Sam omits the truth and once he reveals it.
To answer the " are you dating or not" trope :D
Words : 2441 - 1/1 Rating : G
https://archiveofourown.org/works/31528004
"Are you and Bucky... uh... "
Joaquin and Sam were working on the new Redwing updates. Sam, focused, hadn't really paid attention to the question.
"Hm?"
Joaquin a little embarrassed, scratched the back of his head and repeated without looking directly at Sam, "Is that you and Bucky... are you... well you know together or what?"
"And why are you asking me this question now?"
"Oh well… just like that, I was under the impression that..."
Sam replied abruptly, "No. Get back to work."
Joaquin raised his hands as if surrendering.
"Okay... okay... forget it."
A little later, a few miles away, Bucky who was helping Sarah on the boat, felt his cell phone vibrate in his pocket.
He read the message and put the phone away with a dejected look on his face.
"And? What did he answer?"
"Pfff, Joaquin texted me that Sam just said no."
"Bucky, don't make that face, Sam isn't the type to blurt out something like that so easily. It doesn't mean anything."
"Yeah, yeah I know."
But Sarah could tell he didn't look convinced.
~~~~~~~~~~~
"I hate this. If there's one thing I don't like in the whole Captain america thing, it's this."
Sam had just exited the conference room after one hour in the spotlight answering questions from various press representatives.
"You did very well Sam, it's a change from Tony, at least I get to speak up once in a while."
Rhodey patted him on the back to emphasize his words.
"Thanks, because I was honestly so surprised that they asked me that question that I didn't know how to answer."
"Rule of thumb, unless your name is Tony Stark, when reporters ask you personal questions, you answer 'no comment' over and over again."
Rhodey handed him a glass of water, before continuing with a half smile, "By the way, that last question, about you and Bucky… are you... together?"
Sam gave him a scowl before replying, "No comment."
Rhodey chuckled lightly, "Got it."
He knew Sam well enough to know when not to push.
"Well, I have to go Sam. See you soon."
Rhodey shook Sam's hand then headed for the door, as he was about to close it he turned and said, "Tell Bucky I said hi!"
As he closed the door he had just enough time to see Sam's threatening look and laughed.
Rhodey picked up his cell phone and typed,
-He said neither yes nor no, just no comment.
At the same time in Delacroix, Bucky was sharing a beer with Carlos when he received the message from Rhodey. After reading it, he muttered something incomprehensible as he abruptly put his phone down on the table.
"Hey buddy, what's wrong? Is something wrong with you and Sam?" Carlos asked teasingly.
Bucky looked up, a little surprised, "You know about Sam and me?"
Carlos began to laugh out loud.
"Bucky, all of Delacroix knows. You're anything but discreet, I mean... when you're together it shows that it's more than friendship, add to that the hearts in your eyes and the way Sam acts when he's with you, even a blind man could see it."
"That's really funny, really. Hahaha… Then, if everyone knows it why doesn't Sam want to acknowledge it?"
"Did you ask him?"
"No man, he's going to laugh at me if I ask him, I'm sure. So I asked Joaquin and Rhodey. To neither of them did he acknowledge that we were together. I'm starting to wonder if I'm the one who's mistaken about our relationship."
"Bucky, you need to take a step back, and have the courage to ask him. Communication is the key, believe me. I'm sure it's not so serious."
He clinked his bottle with Bucky's who replied without much enthusiasm, "Yeah I'll do that, I'll just have to find the right time."
~~~~~~~~~~
A week later, Sam was returning from his last mission. He was walking along the harbor to meet up with Bucky and Sarah who were working on the boat when he was called out by Carlos.
"Hey Sam, you're back!'"
Sam approached the old worker and greeted him, "Hey Carlos, it's good to be here."
"I believe you, for nothing in the world will I leave this place. Even if I am alone here, Delacroix is my whole life. And here you have your family, Sarah, the kids, Bucky..."
"What Bucky?"
"Well Bucky he is your family right? Since you're-"
"We're what?"
"Well together, like… huh… you know what I mean right?"
"No," Sam replied, "I don't know what you mean."
Then with a half smile, he resumed, "Well I'm going to find MY family" and he winked as he pointed to Sarah and Bucky who were busy on the boat.
"Smartass... but Sam wait please."
Already leaving Sam turned around and asked, "What?"
"Don't play too much with Bucky, he's really starting to worry."
"Don't worry about him Carlos, I know what I'm doing. Bye!"
Sam walked with a quiet smile towards the boat.
~~~~~~~~~~
"Uncle Bucky! Uncle Bucky!"
Cass stormed into the kitchen where Sarah and Sam were quietly drinking coffee.
"Uncle Bucky's not here?"
Sarah replied, "What did I tell you about running into the kitchen, and no Bucky isn't here yet."
"Aww but he said he would come play soccer with us!"
"If he said he'd come, he'll come."
"Okay mom, so if Uncle Bucky comes, you tell him we're already at the field okay?"
Sam who had witnessed the whole exchange intervened, "Uncle Bucky? Since when is it Uncle Bucky?"
Cass rolled his eyes as if his uncle was an idiot for asking such a question.
"Well since you two are together, if he's with you it's only fair that we call him that, right?"
"What do you mean together? We're not-"
He was interrupted by the sound of a ball bouncing.
"Uncle Buckyyy! You're finally here! Come on, everyone's waiting for you!"
Sam turned abruptly, to see that Bucky was standing in the doorway picking up the ball that had just bounced right in front of his feet. Then he quickly got up and turned to leave. As he left he said in a falsely cheerful tone, "Sarah, I'll have them back by 5pm. Does that give you enough time?"
"Great Bucky! Thanks."
Bucky walked away with the children waiting outside the house. It had all happened quickly, but Sam had had time to see the hurt expression on Bucky's face. Hethought for the first time that maybe he had let things go a little too far.
~~~~~~~~~~~
"You should really go talk to him Sam."
Sitting on a bench in front of his sister's house, lost in thought, Sam hadn't heard her coming.
"Don't start, you know who I'm talking about."
Sam sighed, "Yes I know."
"You're playing a dangerous game big brother, and why?"
"Look Sarah, our relationship is our business, what we are is our business, and it's him I need to discuss it with, not outsiders. Actually, we haven't really talked about our relationship yet."
"Then do it! It's easy for you. Bucky wears his heart on his sleeve. So maybe you don't need to feel reassured. But some people need to hear the words. And maybe that's the case with Bucky. He just needs to hear it from you, if he knows where he stands then it won't matter to him if others know or not."
Sam stayed there for another long moment thinking about what Sarah had just told him.
Finally he stood up, he knew what he had to do.
~~~~~~~~~~
"And then your Uncle Sam he just said, 'on your left' and flew over the battlefield, you should have seen, he was so amazing. And then we all went in through the portals that Doctor Strange had created."
"Wow, and then tell about when Steve gave Sam the shield, please Uncle Bucky!"
Bucky and the kids couldn't see him and Sam paused for a bit, enjoying the scene before his eyes.
Bucky, lying in the grass surrounded by his nephews and the neighborhood kids, some lying against him, one sitting on top of him and another clinging to his arm that Bucky was gently lifting. They were all hanging onto Bucky's every word.
"So you see, the Hulk, well Professor Hulk, rigged the time machine so that Steve could bring the stones back to where they belong. What Sam didn't know was that Steve had no intention of coming back directly. And so when he reappeared he looked like an old man. Then he gave the shield to Sam."
"Wow!" Cass exclaimed, "So he gave his super shield to Uncle so easily? But you didn't want it?"
Bucky laughed slightly, "Oh no, I'm a follower, not a leader. I couldn't have picked a better person to carry the shield. That Captain America, kids, I'll follow him into the flames. AJ and Cass, you can be proud of your uncle."
Sam gasped at the loyalty and pride that resonated in Bucky's words.
"Yeah, but you have your great arm too!"
"That's right!" he lifted his arm higher and the boy hanging on it laughed out loud followed by the other kids.
Sam stepped forward, Cass and AJ saw him, stood up and ran to him, "Uncle Sam!"
"So you're the ones who kidnapped my boyfriend?"
Bucky straightened up, looked into Sam's eyes for two seconds and Sam saw the smile move from his eyes to his mouth. He thought to himself that he had made the right decision.
"Your boyfriend?" Cass planted himself in front of Sam with his hands on his hips and continued, "Haha, see I was right to call him Uncle Bucky."
Sam laughed and replied, "Yes, yes, you were absolutely right. So can I have Uncle Bucky back now?"
Bucky jumped to his feet and approached, "And what do you want to do with Uncle Bucky?" he asked with a mischievous gleam in the eyes.
Sam looked more serious, "I want to talk to him" he held out his hand, "Will you come with me?"
Bucky took the outstretched hand and followed him, all the while waving his other hand at the kids.
"Hi kids! See you soon! Practice hard for next time."
Sam and Bucky walked away hand in hand to the laughter and shouts of the kids.
They walked in silence for a moment and then Sam spoke up.
"Bucky, I'm sorry. I wasn't ready to answer the questions about us. And without meaning to, I hurt your feelings. Sarah made it clear that I was wrong. Things are so natural between us that I don't question it. But when Joaquin and Rhodey asked me about it, I realized that we hadn't even taken the time to talk about our relationship. That's why I preferred to deny it rather than-"
"Sam, about Joaquin and Rhodey, I was the one who told them to ask you, because I realized that when we were in the presence of other people, you never talked about us, or you were much more distant and I wondered if you... uh I realize that it's silly, since I live with you and that… and… anyway I wondered if you saw our relationship in the long term and I started to doubt. So I reacted stupidly but I-"
Sam put a finger to his mouth, "Bucky, even though going through joaquin and Rhodey was really silly, if we had taken the time, if I had taken the time to talk to you, you wouldn't have felt the need to do something like that. I think we both need to learn to talk. Bucky, when I said I love you, it wasn't just words, I am totally committed to this relationship and it is very important to me. You are very important to me."
Sam stopped walking, let go of Bucky's hand, framed his face and kissed him gently on the forehead, then on the lips.
"Sam, we're in the middle of the street, everyone can see us!"
"So what? Who will stop me from making out with my boyfriend? Those who don't want to see, let them look away."
Just for the expression his words elicited on Bucky's face, Sam would repeat those words over and over again.
"But Bucky," Sam whispered against his lips, "You need to talk to me too. If you have any doubts, talk to me. We've always said things to each other's faces, even at the risk of hurting each other's feelings sometimes, we need to keep going."
He saw Bucky bite his lip as if he was hesitant to speak. Sam moved back a little and said, "Bucky talk to me."
"I know I'm not the best fit, I have a lot of work to do on myself. But Sam I don't want to be the weak one in this relationship, the one who is always being cajoled. I need to know that you see me as an equal, someone you can lean on, someone you can confide in. So the fact that you don't talk about us, I thought maybe you couldn't do all that with me."
Sam gave him a gentle smack on the back of Bucky's head.
"Idiot. I never considered you weak Bucky. Never. It's you I turn to and will turn to first when I have or will need it. Bucky, you are the one I entrust my family to when I go on a mission. I know they have someone to rely on when I'm not around. It's one of my strengths Bucky. Believe me. Knowing that no matter what I go through, you and my family, no actually I mean my family, including you, will be there to take me in, and bear whatever I can't bear anymore, that's my-hmpf"
Sam's words were muffled by Bucky who had thrown his arms around him and was kissing him passionately, not caring anymore that they were making out in the middle of the street.
Lost in their embrace, now that they had told each other almost everything, they forgot all that was not them.
Much later when they caught their breath, Sam murmured with a slight laugh, "That's a good way to communicate too."
Bucky replied with a big laugh as he pulled Sam by the hand, "Come on Mister boyfriend, let's go home, I know another way to communicate where we are both good." He accompanied his words with a suggestive raised eyebrow which earned him a second smack on the head as Sam grumbled with eyes raised to the sky, "My boyfriend is an idiot."
"Yep but he's YOUR boyfriend."
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Halloween prompt: Alfred is getting increasingly annoyed at whoever is eating the halloween candy. No one will confess. (Bruce is sitting in a corner somewhere with a bag of... [insert Batfamily appropriate candy here])
Three Musketeers
Rating: G 1,844 words Gen AO3
Bristol was technically in Gotham City limits. Though the gilted mansions and private woods with pastures and stables seemed like a whole other world in comparison. The residents liked to think so too, especially because – despite Gotham’s robust public transportation system – it was almost impossible to reach the rich suburb from the city proper. It was because they lived in this separate world that Bristol’s wealthy residents often fought to receive special treatment or even secede from the city all together.
Except when it came to Halloween.
The residents of Bristol were more than happy to hold their trick-or-treat night during the same time as the rest of Gotham. Mostly, because it discouraged the city’s poorer residents from coming out to ask for literal handouts from them. The time it would take to sit in train stations and bus stops to get there ate up a large chunk of trick-or-treat’s two-hour window. And the walk from the last stop and between the houses took up the rest.
Despite all this, many made the trek out to Wayne Manor and its residents always made it well worth the work.
It was known that the Manor didn’t simply give out full-sized candy bars, no, they gave a whole bag of king’s sized bars. And from the entrance way to the ballroom off to the side were decked out and fitted to be a haunted house with games and entertainment and even more snacks. There was no reason to go anywhere else when you went to Wayne Manor.
Except, this year the seemingly endless supply of candy was mysteriously missing in the week leading up to the big night. Which was ironic considering the Manor was populated by detectives.
Alfred was suspicious. And annoyed. But mostly suspicious. He had raised the world’s greatest detective and then helped raise the current world’s greatest detective. In addition to the other seven vigilantes he’d actively cared for over the years. And countless others who hadn’t lived under his roof. Which meant that he was extremely hard to pull something over on. Extremely.
Yet, his stockpile of trick-or-treat candy was gone. Completely. And his list of suspects was long and skilled.
First, was Barbara because he loved the young woman dearly but she was a bit of a chocolate fiend. Also, if he could rule her out then he could enlist her assistance. It was easy enough to make her coffee just the way she liked and message her to come to the kitchen when she was working in the Cave one evening. She was happy enough to come up, thinking it was just for a chat but knowing something was up when Alfred passed her the mug.
They studied each other from across the long wooden table that took up the far side of the kitchen. Alfred sipped his tea from the good china that after the last family debacle was his alone to use. Barbara narrowed her eyes as her glasses slipped down her nose. They were playing a high stakes game of chicken and they both knew it.
Barbara broke first. “Is there something you wanted to talk about, Alfred?” she asked sweetly, setting her coffee down and pushing her glasses back up in the same movement.
“Now that you mention it, yes. I was wondering if you happened to know where my trick-or-treat supply is disappearing to?” Alfred’s lips turned up in kindness, but his eyes were hard and steady as he held her gaze.
An adult, a seasoned crimefighter, an honest to god superhero and yet Barbara wanted to wriggle in her chair, knot her fingers in the hem of her t-shirt, under that look. Pure willpower was the only thing that stopped her. Though it didn’t extend to her mouth. “No, I’ve been out of town most of the week.”
This was true, Alfred knew, but not necessarily an airtight alibi.
“Besides,” Barbara continued, “I have a Costco card. The Birds and I split it. If I wanted to eat a whole bag of candy, I’d just buy my own.”
Alfred nodded, lifting his tea to take another sip. He accepted that answer, she knew better than to lie to him. “In that case, might I enlist your skills to uncover the real culprit?”
This was what Alfred had truly wanted to ask, they both knew, and Barbara smiled in delight at the prospect. “I’d love to.”
The next suspect was Tim. He knew exactly how to cover his tracks and misdirect their attention. Tim was sly, smart, and still technically a teenaged boy so sugar was irresistible. Barbara set the trap, crashing the Batcomputer one afternoon when everyone else was out. This forced Tim up, out of the Cave and to Alfred lying in wait in the kitchen.
Tim had climbed up onto a kitchen chair to get at the stash of poptarts on the top shelf of the cabinet above the stove. Proving that he had means, motive, and a record.
“Master Timothy,” Alfred drawled as he stepped out of the shadows. Bruce had to learn the skill from somewhere.
Startling, Tim whirled around and nearly fell from the chair. Dropping the silver packet in the process. It landed on the tile with a crunch. “Look I need the brain power to get the computer back up,” he said hastily, glancing guiltily between Alfred and the fallen junk food.
“I am not here to reprimand you about the poptarts,” Alfred said and Tim immediately relaxed, shooting him a relieved little grin. “But I may have to reprimand you for sneaking something else,” Alfred continued, causing Tim’s face to fall.
“I swear, I only had the one Monster the other week. And I split it with Kon ‘cause we were trying to keep Bart from drinking it. Me and him on an energy drink bouncing round the Tower is way better than a speedster on an energy drink.” Tim’s eyes were wide and the blood that had drained from his face made the boy almost impossibly paler.
Alfred lifted an eyebrow at the confession. Not what he was looking for but good to know all the same. “And what of the candy for trick-or-treat?”
Tim’s brows drew together in confusion. “Uh, I don’t know? I suggested we get milkyways but if you got snickers again then I’m not going to complain.”
“So, you did not eat the supply?” Alfred confirmed, though the fact that Tim was already feeling guilty and hesitant to lie on top of the fact that he had no idea Alfred had purchased boxes of three musketeers cleared him of the crime.
“No?” Tim shook his head as he shrugged.
Satisfied, Alfred nodded. “Enjoy your poptarts, Master Timothy. I shall be moving them shortly.”
“It wasn’t Jason,” Barbara said over the phone. “I have a couple different angles of him being in Paraguay all last week.”
“I never suspected him to begin with,” Alfred admitted as he pushed the shopping cart, restocking for the big night tomorrow. “He never liked three musketeers. Dark chocolate kit-kats are a separate story.” He smiled at the memory of a young Jason carrying a huge box of the candy bars to drop in the cart during his first Halloween with them.
“Cass and Dick are out too,” she continued. “Cass laughed at me when I even suggested it and then confirmed Dick was telling the truth when I questioned him.”
Alfred hummed. Richard had been his next guess, though he was more likely to take them to hand out while on patrol or pass on to his friends’ children than to eat himself. “Master Damian is innocent as well. He scoffed at the implication he would, quote, ‘stoop so low as to steal candy from children.’ He also vouched for Master Duke and neither were anywhere near the spare pantry recently to begin with.”
“Security cameras confirm that.”
“That leaves Miss Stephanie,” Alfred frowned. Stephanie tended to decline any offers of assistance from the Manor’s residents that weren’t directly related to masked vigilantism. Though she recently had allowed Alfred to slip her gas money when she visited during daylight hours. The thought of her taking the Halloween candy just did not sit right with him. It was almost as impossible to imagine as Damian taking it. Cassandra was more likely to be playing a trick on them all, having hidden it for some soon to be revealed reason. “Are you positive Miss Cassandra is not the culprit?”
Barbara chuckled. “I mean, not really. But at the same time why would she? Though why would Steph either? I don’t think it was either of them but I can vouch for Steph. She hasn’t been anywhere near the Cave or the Manor since last month. What with school she’s been staying close.”
“Which leaves us back to the beginning,” Alfred sighed and got in line. “We could create a sting operation though I’d loathe to lose this supply as well. There’s nearly no candy left in the entire state.”
“That I believe. Alright, I’ve got the feed from the events kitchen running on one of my screens. I’ll keep an eye on it for the rest of the night, see if anyone stupid enough to try it again.”
“Thank you, Miss Barbara. I really appreciate your assistance in this matter,” Alfred told her before exchanging their goodbyes. He had plans for a little stakeout of his own.
Placing the boxes in the spare pantry, Alfred settled himself on a stool next to the industrial fridge in the dark. He typed out a careful message in the family’s groupchat informing them all that the missing candy had been replaced and politely asking that it not disappear again before the next night. They would all be getting ready to go out for the night so there is no doubt they would see it. And he would have plenty of time to wait for them to strike.
Hours later, the family was returning and Alfred was still lying in wait. A creak echoed in from the ballroom where decorations were mostly in place. The light padding of rubber soles on the marble tile came closer and closer. Alfred leant further back into the shadows as the door swung open. He held his breath, waiting as the guilty party walked into the kitchen proper, headed directly towards the pantry. Alfred slipped from his hiding spot, keeping low as he crept around the island to come up behind the culprit.
Alfred contained his gasp of shock and annoyance as he flipped on the light. Forcing the candy thief to whirl on him. “Master Bruce!” Alfred scolded. He hadn’t thought his first charge would do such a thing and hadn’t even considered him as a suspect.
Having the good sense to look ashamed and like a ten-year-old boy again, Bruce offered a wavering grin in apology. “You bought three musketeers,” he said as his only defense.
Alfred frowned as he crossed his arms. “And your penance will be handing them out tomorrow night.”
#dc comics#alfred pennyworth#barbara gordon#tim drake#bruce wayne#batman#jason todd#cassandra cain#stephanie brown#damian wayne#dick grayson#duke thomas#batbros#the batgirls are better than you#my fic#writing#own writing#fanfic#fanfiction#detective comics#radioactivepigeons
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Imagine:
Dean and Sam are on there way to the bar where you had to been drinking, but find something dark on the way..then a few months later, they never expected this.
Sam's Pov-
It was about 10 at night, Dean was driving the Impala to go get Y/n who was drinking at the Beach house bar. She called us to come get her, everything was packed including her stuff. We decided to pack everything up, then go home after picking her up.
On the way there we spot flashing lights down by the beach, which was maybe a mile away from the bar. They weren't ambulance or police lights, more like flash lights. A huge crowd was surrounding something, more like someone. My heart started pounding as I saw the dead body, I couldn't tell who it was but I had a feeling I knew who it was.
"Huh I wonder what's goin there." Dean mutters.
"Pull over." I tell him, and when the Impala comes to a stop I run down to the crowd with Dean on my tail. I start pushing people out of the way to see who it was, and my heart stopped as I saw the long/short H/c in the sand. It was Y/n..multiple stab wounds to the chest and her clothes were ripped off. There were even some burn marks on her skin from cigars. Dean rushes over and begins calling her name "Y/n!? Y/n! No no no.." Sobbing he gathers her up in his arms, muttering her name over and over.
I didn't know how to feel about this...I stood there steams of tears goin down my cheeks. The love of my life....is gone, I step closer to Dean and see her blood covered phone which had a message that was being typed to us.
Dear boys,
I'm not gonna last long but my killer is C.M and I just want you to know that I lo
And that was it, she never finished it. I looked over to Dean and handed him the phone, he let go of her and read the message. I picked her up bridal style and whispered over and over that it was gonna be ok. That she wasn't gonna die, however I knew deep down that she was already gone...
10 months later...
It's been ten months and just the thought of her name makes me cry. Anything that reminds me of her makes me angry, we still haven't found what C.M means. I asked Cas if it was possible to go through her mind but he said it wasn't because her soul was gone. That includes her memories, I lied there in my bed every night wishing she was there. Laying next to me as I hold her close but she wasn't...she was never coming back...
Y/n's Pov-
I opened my eyes to see nothing but darkness. I ran my hands around my surroundings, I was in some kind of box, I desperately pushed the top to try and get it opened but I couldn't. Where am I? Did that man bury me alive? Why does the box smell like death? I look around the box but it was to dark to see anything. However I felt something in my back pocket. I reached to get it, it was square...My phone! I clicked the button and the bright light shined in my eyes.
"Jesus that's bright..." I muttered, it only had five percent left. Shit, I thought, one call that's all I need. I quickly dialed Sam's number and placed it next to my ear. It rang a few times, "C'mon answer...I'm dying here."
"Hello?..." A gruff voice asked, he seemed tired.
"Sammy! Uh I'm kinda trapped in a box and I only have like 5 percent left so if you could like track my phone-"
"Y/n?.."
"Yea it's me, I need help man."
"No I don't believe you. Y/n died 10 months ago."
"I-I died?...I thought the guy buried me alive."
"If it's really you, then who was your killer?"
"C.M, his actually name is Carlton Mathews, you know the rich boy in town?"
"Oh my god...Y/n j-just hold on ok! Dean! We'll be there in an hour."
"Wait-" Before I could say anything else my phone died. "Fuck..." Ok so what now? I thought, I could try to get out of this box. Possibly die again of suffocation, just do it like that woman from Kill Bill. I placed the tip of my hand on the wood, took a deep breath in the punched the wood. "Son of a bitch that hurts..." I did it again, my knuckles burning like hell now, however it is a good thing because the wood cracked open a little bit. Ok a few more, I did it harder this time and dirt fell on my face, making the smell worse. I sit up and push my way threw the dirt, it felt like bricks were pushing me down. I gasped for breath as I hit the surface.
"Holy crap...uh Cass? Come help? Hopefully you can come to my aid?" All of a sudden the angel appeared.
"Y/n! It worked!" He grabbed me by the arm and pulled me up out of the ground.
"W-What worked now?"
"I'll explain later, let's get you back to the Bunker." He placed two fingers on my forehead and all of a sudden we appeared back in to Bunker by the metal stairs. I looked down and I was covered in dirt, worms, and blood. When I looked up, I spotted the two brothers with there bags packed and shovels in there hands. Eyes widened with tears falling down there face.
"Oh hey...miss me boys?"
Pt 2
#sam winchester smut#sam winchester imagines#sam winchester#dean supernatural#dean winchester#dean winchester imagines#spn fanfiction#sad imagines#dean x y/n#dean x reader#sam x you#sam x y/n#dean fanfiction#sam fanfiction
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Of Rocks and Robots Ch. 19 - Hardlight
"Heeeello interwebs! Today on 'How Does It Work?' We will be looking at a toaster."
Varian stood inside the Hamada garage as he held up a toaster in front of a tripod that supported his smartphone.
Fred had introduced him to the concept of 'vlogs' a few days ago. Inspired, Varian had hit upon the idea of doing his own web series in his spare time. It'd give him something to do between work and school, when his friends were busy off doing superheroing things.
He still was curious about many modern inventions and how they worked, and while he could simply read about them, he learned better by doing. He also figured that other people might like to know how the things they used everyday without thinking about them worked. Ergo, the premise of his show was to take apart an appliance or other household electronic and then put it back together again.
The first video had received some moderate success. Though the majority of the comments were just simply stating how cute Ruddiger was over and over again. Apparently people got a kick out of seeing his raccoon assistant.
"Aunt Cass has like, six of these lying around, so I'm sure she won't mind this time." He added, off hand to the camera.
He had taken apart her digital clock last time because she had complained about the alarm not working right. He wanted to surprise her by fixing it. She however was none too happy to find him sitting in the midst of the wires and casing that had once been her clock. Fortunately he had managed to put it all back together again, and even fix the alarm while at it, though it now wouldn't turn off unless you held the snooze button down for a full minute. He'd have to look into that little delay later when she was no longer upset with him.
For now though Varian busied himself over the toaster. He took it apart successfully and then pieced it back together like a puzzle, all the while explaining what he was doing to the camera on his phone. It went well, right up until the end.
"As you can see this a very simple device. Eazy to fix, if need be." He stated as he began to plug the appliance in to test it out. But no sooner did he stand up to readdress the camera did the toaster start to spark and crackle before catching into flames.
"Ahh!"
Instincts took over and Varian threw a nearby tarp over the flames to smother them. Ruddiger grabbed the fire extinguisher and after fiddling with it for few seconds managed to spray the foaming stuff onto both him and the small fire.
That's when Varian heard laughter coming from behind him.
He slowly turned around, the foam still in his hair and his cheeks burning with embarrassment.
Behind him stood a young girl about his age. She had short brown hair and wore a jean jacket. She was desperately trying to suppress her giggles and failing miserably at it.
But upon making eye contact she coughed away her own embarrassment and gave him a sheepish grin.
"Hi. Is Hiro home?" She waved.
Varian wiped the foam from his hair. "No, he's out at the moment."
"Oh." She said clearly disappointed but then just as soon picked the conversion back up. "I'm Megan by the way, Chief Cruz's daughter."
She held out her hand for Varian to shake which he numbly took. He muttered his name as a way of introduction.
He wasn't sure where this was going. She no doubt thought him the fool due to his earlier misfortune but she seemed eager to move on from that and made no further mention of it.
"You must be the new kid my dad was talking about." She continued. "So how are you liking America?"
"Fine."
She gave him a look that clearly stated to him that she expected more of an answer but he declined to speak further. He didn't want to put his foot in his mouth so soon after screwing up.
"Ooookaaay." She decided to change the subject. "Your raccoon is pretty cool. Did you train him to use a fire extinguisher?"
Ruddiger crawled up his back to rest upon his head as he sometimes did. His pet knew when people were talking about him.
"No, not really. He's just smart."
Megan blinked at him in surprise.
"Oh." She said again, this time having trouble comprehending how a raccoon could teach itself fire safety on its on. "Well, it's still neat that you got such a smart pet then. My dad won't let me keep any animals." She admitted wistfully. "Can..can I pet him?"
"Sure."
She reached her hand out tentatively and Ruddiger reached his head up to meet her hand in kind. She giggled again in delight as she began to pet the wild creature with more confidence.
While engaged in this activity Varian saw Hiro and Baymax fly in. Hiro pulled his helmet off and then froze in terror at the sight of Megan. He quickly turned around and started pushing Baymax the other way, hoping to get away before the girl noticed that they were there.
"Did you hear something?" Megan paused and started to turn around.
"No!" Varian quickly interjected and tried to turn her attention back to him in order to give Hiro time to get away. "Uh, but Ruddiger here, loves being held. If you wanna."
Megan looked like she had just won the lottery. Her eyes widen and her mouth broke into a huge grin. Varian handed his pet over to her and she breathlessly hugged the raccoon.
"Oooh, you're so cute!" She exclaimed.
Megan was still cuddling Ruddiger when Hiro, now dressed in his regular clothes, walked in.
"Hey, Megan. How was Florida?"
"Oh, great! I almost didn't want to leave. I only came back because Father's Day is next week. Mom says 'hi' by the way."
"Oh, well, tell her I said 'hi' back."
"Do you wanna go grab a shake? I'll tell you all about the trip. You can come too if you want, Varian."
Varian was going to politely decline the offer, he figured Hiro would rather catch up with his friend without him tagging along, but then Hiro's phone dinged, indicating that he had a text message.
Hiro read it. Of course it was an urgent call for help from the rest of the gang, but he didn't say so out loud.
"Soorrry. That was Wasabi. I..I'm suppose meet up for… our study group."
"Seriously? Even during summer?" Megan admonished.
Hiro could only shrug his shoulders in apology. "Yeeeaah, college doesn't let out during the summer, but hey, Varian isn't in the study group. Why don't you hang with him. Teach him what normal teens do for fun."
"Well I guess someone will have to since we all know you ain't normal" She teased in response.
They both broke out into snickers at that, as if sharing some private joke that Varian didn't understand.
"Alright, it's settled then. I'll see you two later, have fun." He waved goodbye and bowed out.
Varian however was left standing there wondering what the heck had just happened.
"Hmm..normal, hun?" Megan cupped her chin in thought. Then she turned to him and flashed him a sly grin. "Do you know how to skate?"
-----------------------------
The skating park was a jungle of concrete and metal; deep sunken pits, tall curved edifices, piping serving as inclined rails, and even a small paved race track encircling the entire playground. All around people of various ages hurried about on seemingly any and every wheeled vehicle possible. Rollerblades like the type Varian had seen Gogo wear, another four wheeled version called rollerskates, scooters, bikes with pedals instead of motors, most with two wheels, some with three, even one with only one big wheel which looked like it'd be hard to balance on, but what really caught Varian's interest was the skateboards.
He had built something similar back home, only his was larger and he could only roll down grassy hills with it. Anything else would cause the wheels to catch on rocks or cause him to lose control on the uneven ground. There'd be no such problem here on the relatively smooth concrete.
Of course, Varian didn't have his rollingboard with him. Fortunately there was a small store that rented the various vehicles to the park's customers. He paid the man at the counter for a skateboard and the required safety gear. Megan had brought her own skates and helmet.
"I'll race you down to the bottom!" She dared him as she stood next to one of larger pits.
Varian joined her and peered over the side and for the briefest of moments he hesitated. The incline was steeper than any of the hills he had slid down and if he fell there'd be no soft grass to land on, only hard stone. That said, it wasn't as scary as the crystal slide he had ridden down on his first night here, nor was it as large as the snow drifts that he would surf down on his makeshift sled in winter.
"Your on!" He told her, accepting her challenge.
He steeled his nerves as he rolled the tip of the board to the edge and then let out a whoop of exhilaration as the ground gave way and he rolled quickly down the side, he then almost lost control when the board started to just as quickly roll back up the other side. That was new. He hopped off again once he'd reached the level ground, only stumbling a little. Megan met him soon after.
"You ok?" She asked.
"Yeah." Varian breathed and then burst into laughter. "You wanna do it again!?"
It took a little more practice but soon Varian was riding the skateboard with ease. It controlled similarly to his old invention. In fact, due to its smaller size he found he could maneuver it even better than he had the other. Though he wasn't quite at the skill level where he could do tricks like some of the other kids he saw.
It didn't matter though. He and Megan had fun just rolling around the park, alternating between racing one another or chasing each other in a sort of 'follow the leader' type game, usually Megan led.
After a couple of hours though, the time on his rental was up and he and Megan had to leave. Varian would have to buy himself his own skateboard at some point. He bet the rest of his friends would love it here, particularly Gogo.
-----------------------------
Varian and Megan made they're way back home walking through downtown. They had missed the bus and so decided to walk to the next trolley stop instead. They were probably halfway there when the sky began to suddenly turn gray.
"Brrr" Megan shivered and hugged her jacket close around her. "Is it just me or did it get just get a lot colder all of a sudden."
Varian could only shrug in response. He hadn't felt anything but he was already wearing his big frock coat anyways. He probably didn't need it, but he thought it made him look cool and he desperately wanted to impress the girl after having made a fool of himself earlier that day. Not that she had really noticed.
"So how was your first day as a 'normal teen'?" She gently teased. "Cause I know you don't get a chance to just have fun and be a kid at that nerd school you and Hiro go to."
"Is that all 'normal kids' do? Play?"
"Well, when you're not at school or doing chores that is, but regular school is different from college."
"I wouldn't know." Varian admitted reluctantly. "Never been to any other school besides SFIT. Also chores took up most of the day where I'm from and there wasn't many kids around my age."
Megan stilled. Her father had told her about Varian. About how he came from a harsher country and had escaped to America for a better life. She didn't know any of the details, other than the fact that Varian was now staying with Hiro and his aunt. Her dad had warned her not to bring the subject up, but here was Varian volunteering to talk about his past anyways and Megan didn't know how to respond.
She didn't get a chance to say anything though, as a whole bunch of people suddenly started to run towards them, and then right past them. The crowd was clearly scared of something. Some were screaming in fright as they all tried to run away. Though Megan couldn't figure out from what.
Varian grabbed her hand and pulled them both out of the way as the torrent of frighten people pushed their way past. Together they huddled under a yawning of a doorway, watching the scene in confusion. Then Megan spotted a familiar figure in the sky.
"We gotta go." She warned Varian.
"Why?"
"I just saw Big Hero Six fly by. That means there's trouble that way. We better follow the crowd and leave or take shelter someplace." She tugged at his arm trying to get him to come with her, but he only looked at her in confusion.
"But they're the good guys right? They're there to help people."
"No, they're vigilantes." Megan snapped back. "Where ever they go some crackpot shows up trying to start a fight. It'll be a huge mess. We're better off just going now."
Once again she pulled on his coat sleeve but he didn't budge.
"You mean they might get hurt?" He asked with worry in his voice.
"I don't know, maybe. Someone sure will if they're dumb enough to stick around." She was starting to get annoyed, but she took a deep breath to calm her nerves. "Look you're new here, I get it. You probably don't have superheroes where you're from. But trust me, we should just let the police handle it and stay out of the way. Now come on, pleeease." She begged again.
Varian bit his lip in thought as if coming to a decision, and then finally to Megan's relief, he nodded his head in agreement. He took her hand again so as not to get separated in the crowd and they started to make their way back towards the park.
The hadn't gone maybe a few steps when they heard a booming voice coming from the behind them. It was projected by some sort of loudspeaker and distorted to disguise the person's real voice.
"Big Hero Six! Face me, Hardlight, in a battle of skill! If you dare!"
They turned to see who was speaking and was greeted by the sight of a masked figure flying upon a glowing pink saucer. He wore armour not unlike BH6's own, but the seams of it also glowed with a dim light same as his mode of transport. He continued on with his challenge.
"The prize? Why, Chief Office Cruz here."
He laughed maniacally as he move his hand upward and a glowing cage made of the pink light followed his movement as if he was controlling it with his very thoughts. Inside the cage was Officer Cruz who pushed against his prison walls unable to escape.
"Dad!" Megan cried out in fear.
Varian looked at her and the sight of her tears rolling down her cheeks forced him to make a very rash and possibly dangerous decision. To her shock, he turned around and ran directly towards the flying figures.
-----------------------------
Varian neared the battle and ducked behind a mailbox for cover. In the sky and on the ground the superpowered beings fought one another. His friends going up against monsters made of light with Chief Cruz caught in the middle. On the other side of the street stood cop cars creating a barricade while the rest of the police also huddled for cover. A few were helping some straggling pedestrians but they were hopelessly outmatched by the villain, Hardlight, who hovered over everything as if surveying a game.
He appeared to be untouchable. Even Varian's friends were having difficulty trying to fight him one on one as he sent hordes of his artificial minions after them instead and there wasn't anything the police could do. Not without risking their commander who was now in the line of fire.
For all the world it looked like some mythic battle out of a fantasy storybook. But Varian knew better. There was no magic in this world. Everything ran off science. His friends powers came from their inventions and no doubt the supervillain was a scientist as well. Which meant that as soon as Varian could figure out how Hardlight's inventions worked then he could start figuring out the villain's weaknesses.
Though Varian currently was at a lost as to what that might be. He was no physical fighter and was every bit as out classed as the police were at the moment.
Soon he heard footsteps near and he looked to see Megan joining his side. She was shaking with fear and desperately trying to gulp back her tears, but she wouldn't leave his nor, more importantly, her father's side. He understood all to well.
"What are you thinking!?" She hissed under her breath.
"You know I keep getting asked that question a lot lately." He replied dryly and then whispered back to her. "I'm thinking that this dude has got to have a weakness and he doesn't know that we're here. So we figure out what that weakness is and help take him out while he's distracted with Hir-... with the heroes. Thereby freeing your dad."
Megan looked at him, unsure of this plan.
"Oookay, and that weakness might beee…?"
"Uh… give me a minute." Varian scanned the city street again and then dodged out the way quickly as a large hunk of metal sailed past. One of the larger light creatures had picked up a police car and hurled it across the street at the heroes. Varian's heart thudded in chest loudly as he saw the damage. What the heck was he thinking?
He saw Megan crouched down on her knees beside him, her arms around her head trying to shield herself from the flying debris and the heat of the explosion from the car that was now on fire.
He should probably just get her out of there. That was most likely the best way he could help.
But then he paused. Heat!? Cold!? Megan had said it had gotten unusually cold right before Hardlight had shown up and indeed his breath was fogging in the air. The rest of the gang must not have noticed because they were busy fighting in heavy armour.
"Hard light!" Varian exclaimed finally piecing together the clues.
"Wha…" Megam tentatively looked up at him confused.
"That's why he calls himself Hardlight! Because he's using super cooled photons to turn light into solid matter!"
Megan continued to look at him as if he was crazy.
"We touched upon it in physics class." He explained. "Supposedly the science is only theoretical, but it looks like this guy has cracked the code. That cloud must be filled with rubidium and he must be using some sort of projector to shoot lasers into the chilled air.
Megan still looked lost. "Lasers? So it's literally just a light show?"
"Yeah." More debris flew past. "A deadly light show." He gulped.
He braved himself to take another look at the ongoing fight. He peered around the mailbox and saw Hardlight punching commands into his gauntlets. They must have held the device that controlled the projectors. In fact the lights on his suit may have been projectors themselves, looping the connection. He tried to follow one of the particle beams of regular light that flickered against the cloud, a byproduct of the more deadly 'solid light.'
His eyes landed upon a window in a building across the street that flickered off and on. He then looked on the opposite side and saw a similar window in another building parallel to the first.
"There!" He pointed."And over there. We'll have to make our way across and shut down the projectors inside."
"Wait!"
He turned and found Megan clutching his coat sleeve with both hands. Her eyes darted about in fear.
Varian sighed.
She wasn't use to this. Megan was, as she put it, a normal kid. She hadn't been through what Varian had been through nor what Hiro had been through. She had never had to fight for anything before and Varian hoped she'd never would.
He rested a hand upon her shoulder to calm her.
"Look, it's ok." He said gently, trying to come across as calm himself. Which he wasn't, but she didn't need to know that. "You don't have to come. Just wait here where it's safe and I'll do it."
She searched his eyes questioningly, not sure if she should let him go. So he added,"I'll get your father back. I promise."
Varian didn't make promises lightly. He knew how important they were and how devastating a broken one could really be. Once said, he meant it.
She thought for a moment, took a steading breath, and then gently removed his hand from her shoulder.
"No." She looked up at him with determination in her eyes. "I'm coming with you. Just tell me what to do."
"Alright." Varian agreed. "Then follow me and stick close."
Varian weaved and dodged and ducked through the littered sidewalks, behind various debris, and down abandon doorways. Carefully he and Megan made their way across the battlefield staying out of sight. Fortunately, Varian had had a lot of practice with sneaking around back during his time on the lam. The action came back to him instinctively.
They made it by without being noticed and Varian stopped at the building closest to them, diving into the open doorway.
"Ok, so you know what you're looking for?" He asked Megan.
"A big projector, on the top floor. Just either shut it down or unplug it." She repeated his instructions.
"Good." He nodded "Then I'll leave you to it. I'm going make my way to other end of the street and do the same. If we take both projectors out at the same time he'll hopefully be too surprised to recover. You sure you'll be alright on your own."
"Hmm-hmm. You just be careful out there." She ordered back at him.
Varian flashed her a smile that he hoped look more confident then he felt and then took off back outside into the fight.
-----------------------------
Megan watched him go and she didn't dare move until she saw him make it across the street safely. Once he ducked into the other building, she turned and started to make her way to the top floor.
Just her luck she would befriend a crazy a person, she thought as she started to climb the stairs.
She found the room with the projector easily. What wasn't so easy was the fact the thing appeared to have no off switch. It also wasn't plugged into the wall but was hooked to a mini generator instead. She pulled and tugged at the thick hose like cord that connect the two to no avail.
She huffed in frustration.
Varian was super smart and no doubt was already hot wiring the one on his end. She however would have to find more unconventional means of shutting the device down.
She looked around the room and spotted a heavy looking crowbar near the door.
Perfect.
She took the tool and began to smash the the projector to pieces.
-----------------------------
Varian cut the last wire using the piece of amber that he always kept with him. It was his most valued possession next to Ruddiger. The only time he didn't have it on him was when he was experimenting with it instead.
It was unbreakable and the point was as sharp as any knife, so it sliced through the machine's inner parts easily.
The light in the projector flickered and died.
He got up and hurried to the window to see what was happening.
The cage was gone. Fred a had caught Cruz and was cradling the chief of police in his monster like arms. The officer looked out of sorts but otherwise unharmed.
Hardlight was raging and desperately fiddling with his gauntlets. He still stood upon his saucer, confirming to Varian that his suit was also a mini projector, but he had lost his light creatures and other weaponry.
Hiro and the others moved in to capture him but the villain stomped his feet in frustration and took off flying in the other direction. The dark cloud also dispersing as he retreated.
Varian looked across the street to the other window and saw Megan waving at him enthusiastically. He gave her a thumbs up to confirm that he saw her.
Then to his horror the worst thing happen.
An explosion ignited behind the girl and she was soon falling out of the hole in the wall where she and the window once stood. Varian's heart plummeted as quickly as she fell.
-----------------------------
Hiro didn't know why Hardlight's gear had suddenly stopped working and he didn't care. He was just grateful that it had.
He reached his hand to his intercom to tell his team to peruse the villain before he got away, but stopped when he heard the explosion and the scream.
To his terror he saw Megan, of all people, falling from the skyscraper.
"Baymax!" He yelled but the robot was already on it. Together they flew to meet the girl before she hit the ground, angling their flight so as to catch her gently. They then flew to the top of the opposite skyscraper in order to check over her in peace.
-----------------------------
Varian saw Hiro and Baymax catch Megan and nearly cried with relief. He then saw them fly over the building he was currently in. He turned and ran out of the room and headed for the roof as fast as his legs would carry him.
-----------------------------
Baymax laid Megan on the roof as gently as he could. Her eyes were closed and made no acknowledgment that she was aware of what was going on.
Hiro hopped off of Baymax's back and tore off his helmet as he knelt down beside the girl.
"Megan?" He desperately called to her. "Megan!"
Baymax was in the middle of his scans so he wouldn't know what was really wrong until the robot finished, but the very fact that she was unconscious filled him with fear.
"Megan, please don't...don't do this." He begged, his voice breaking along with his heart.
Soon Varian was rushing towards them.
"How is she?" He asked in a panic.
Hiro looked up at the other boy in surprise that then quickly turned to anger.
"What happen!?" He rounded on his friend.
Varian took a step back, caught off guard by Hiro's sudden ferocity.
Megan however awoke before a fight could break out between the two.
"Megan!" Both boys called out and Hiro knelt back down beside her.
"I have completed my scans. It appears that she simply fainted. Outside of a few light bruises she should be fine."
Megan didn't feel fine. Her ears were ringing from the explosion, her body was sore, and she felt disoriented by the fall. Even Baymax's familiar voice had her confused. Where had he come from?
"Oh thank goodness." Hiro breathed and wrapped her in a hug.
She looked to Varian standing nearby, worry etched on his face, back to Hiro holding her, trying to piece together what had happened. Then she noticed what Hiro was wearing.
She pushed him away and looked over his armor as realization dawned on her. He also began to realize that his cover was blown as he watched her put two and two together.
"You're...you're Big Hero Six? And you never told me?"
Hiro gulped as she laid into him.
"All the lies! All of the excuses! Just so you can run around playing superhero!? You've been putting yourself in danger this whole time..and...and.." She was so angry she couldn't form words.
"Well, what were you doing inside that building?" Hiro asked defensively, though he knew it would do little good.
"It was Varian's idea!" She pointed accusingly at the time displaced teen. Who backed away even further as Hiro glared daggers at him. "He's the one that figured out the projectors and decided that he was going to break them….and…" She paused as another thought occurred to her. "Did you know all along!?"
Varian only stared blankly at her.
"Gah! I can't believe you! Either of you! You knew all along Hiro was out there being a vigilante. That's why you were so desperate to help."
"That's not Varian's fault." Hiro spoke up. "He had to keep our secret. He's… he's from another world. And we were the ones to find him."
Megan just looked at them both with contempt not believing this new fantastical confession.
"And why should I listen to you? Mr. ‘I've been lying for over three months now’".
"Nine." Hiro quietly corrected. He heaved a heavy sigh. "I've been doing this since Tadashi died."
She blinked at him, taken aback by how raw his voice sounded. Hiro didn't like to talk about his brother often, the pain still too fresh in his mind.
"Look, I understand that you're mad, and I don't blame you." Hiro continued. "But I'm not going to stop. I'm doing something important. Something that no one else can do, not even your dad. Those villain's aren't just going to go away and we're the only ones equipped to handle them."
"Oh like how you 'handled' them today? When you needed mine and Varian's help. Hey, how do you explain a villain showing up right out of the blue just to challenge you? Was he always going to be there to kidnap my dad or did he only show up because of you!?"
Hiro bit his lower lip, unable to answer. Megan pressed on.
"What happens when you get hurt? Or someone you care about? What will you do then?"
"I do this so no one else does get hurt!" He yelled back at her. "I...I can't lose anyone else." He broke down.
"Well.. Maybe we can't lose you either." She was also crying now. "I'm telling my dad. He'll stop this."
Hiro looked at her in shock. They held each other's gaze for several moments as if silently holding some sort of conversion with their eyes.
Just then several footsteps could be heard running up the stair well, shouting from below, indicating that others were about to join them on the roof.
Hiro stood up and placed his helmet back on.
"I can't stop you." He told Megan. "But please, leave Varian out if it. No one is going to believe he's from another world anyways."
"Wait, you're serious?" She asked Varian and he nodded yes.
Hiro hopped onto Baymax's back and flew away just as Chief Cruz burst through the door and ran towards his daughter.
"Megan! Oh thank heavens you're alright!" He squeezed her tightly. "What were you doing up there?" He scolded.
"It's my fault." Varian offered up." I figured out that Hardlight was using projectors and I came up with the idea of sneaking past him and breaking them."
"Also, it's my fault too," Megan jumped in before her dad could get on to him. "Varian tried to talk me out of coming along, but I insisted. I was too worry about you." She hugged her dad again before continuing on."Also, I may have shut down the projector incorrectly. That's probably why it exploded. It's...it's a good thing Big Hero Six was there to catch me." She gave Varian a wink as she said this, indicating that she had decided to keep both of their secrets.
-----------------------------
Varian was getting tired of lectures. He and Megan had both received an ear full from Officer Cruz as the policeman drove Varian back to the Lucky Cat. Now Varian was sitting in the upstairs kitchen listening to another one from Aunt Cass who was pacing back and forth in agitation. And this was what, the fourth or fifth one had gotten this week?
Varian sucked in his breath and forced himself to sit through it. He tried to remind himself that the adults were only getting on to him because they were concerned for his safety and he hadn't actually done anything wrong like he did a week ago with the bot fight. Of course any insistent that he knew what he was doing or that he'd lived through worst, had only upset the grown ups even more rather than ease their fears. So he decided to just remind quite and let Aunt Cass ramble on.
Just as he was starting to zone out he caught a glimpse of Hiro sneaking past the kitchen while Aunt Cass's back was turned. The other boy was back in his regular clothes and trying his best to avoid such a lecture himself.
He didn't succeed. Aunt Cass turned around and spotted him midway through his tip-toe.
"And where were you today?" She asked accusingly.
"Uh...study group?" Hiro lied.
Aunt Cass raised an eyebrow but only said, "Well go on, this doesn't concern you and you don't need to eavesdropping."
"Yes ma'am" Hiro readily agreed and Aunt Cass turned back around to resume reprimanding her other charge.
Varian saw Hiro mouth him a wordless "thank you" before scurrying off, which Varian appreciated. It was nice to know that he'd manage to do something right for once.
-----------------------------
Hiro dashed upstairs and helped Baymax into his charging station. Then he called Megan. Aunt Cass hadn't said anything to him yet about Big Hero Six and he was hoping his friend had changed her mind about telling.
"Hey Hiro. Sorry, but I can't talk." She whispered to him in a hushed voice as soon as she picked up.
Then he heard Cruz yell at her over the other end.
"Who is it?"
"It's just Hiro, dad. He wanted to know if I was alright" She yelled back.
"Okay, but make it quick, you're still grounded after all." The policeman ordered and Hiro heard footsteps and a door closing.
"Good, he's gone." Megan sighed in relief. "In case you're wondering I didn't tell him."
"I figured that." Hiro admitted and then with a pause he asked her, "Why not?"
He heard Megan heave another sigh.
"Look, today I did something really stupid and terrifying just to save someone I love. And I almost got myself killed while doing it. Yet, I also know that I would do it a second time if I had to."
Another sigh, as if she was steeling herself to admit what she had to say next.
"I still don't agree with you being a superhero, buuuut I'm not going to stop you. I guess understand now why you do it, and you're the one who needs to make the decision to quit. Not anyone else. Just promise me, no more secrets, ok?"
"Okay." Hiro agreed and then he added, "Maybe once you're un-grounded we can go get that milkshake?"
He couldn't hear Megan smile but he knew that she was anyways when she answered back, "Alright, but you're paying. Also you need to buy Varian one too. He saved everyone's butts back there, big time."
"Yeah, I'll find a way to make it up to him as well. See you, in what, two weeks?"
"Just a week. Dad won't stay mad once he sees the awesome Father's Day gift I got him. I'll see you then and I'll want a double fudge swirl."
They hung up and Hiro felt as if some huge weight had been lifted from his shoulders. He didn't enjoy having to blow Megan off with lame excuses anymore than she enjoyed hearing them, and he was glad now that that would no longer be an issue between them.
-----------------------------
Ian Williams slammed the door to his office, trying to shut out the nagging voice of his boss. He hated Mr. Krei, he hated working at Krei Tech, but most of all he hated losing.
Ian ditched the duffle bag that held his Hardlight suit and gear into the bottom drawer of his private office cabinet. He had a special encrypted lock built into it so no one could snope around and discover his secret life as supervillain.
He was still in a rage over what had happened today. It wasn't fair. His gear had malfunctioned. Those losers must have cheated somehow. He deserved a do-over.
He closed the drawer and locked it and then went about tidying up his desk. Ian was an unassuming looking fellow. A stereotypical geek, right down to his pocket protector and thick rimmed glasses. What no one knew though, was that Ian was a thrill seeker, always looking out for a new challenge. He'd grown bored with the usual video games, mental puzzles, and high exhilaration activities like skydiving and white water rafting.
So few things combined both his high intellect and his athleticism. But taking down superheroes? Now there was a worthy test of both skill and brains. He'd be the best if he could beat Big Hero Six. He'd finally get both that adrenaline rush and the praise that he so longed for.
Just then Ian noticed a disc lying on his desk that he hadn't put there himself. There was a note attached to the case and it was addressed to him.
Dear Hardlight,
Or should I call you, Ian? Either way, this disc contains information regarding today's fight that I'm sure you will find interesting.
Sincerely,
The Boss
Ian panicked. Who knew that he was Hardlight? Who was this 'Boss'? Surely not Krei. That man never got Ian's name right, instead he'd mistakenly call him 'Ethan' or something similar. He looked around his small office but there was no other sign that anyone had been there.
Without knowing what else to do, Ian popped the disc into his computer. There was only a single video file attached. He pulled it up.
The video showed the image of a kid wearing goggles sabotaging his precious projectors. So BH6 had cheated. Well Ian would just have to even the odds for next time wouldn't he? He gave an evil grin as he took note of the boy who had ruined his plans. He'd just found his newest opponent.
#disney#big hero 6#tangled#varian#Hiro Hamada#megan cruz#hardlight#BH6 the series#tangled the series#rapunzel's tangled adventure
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Home - DeanXfem!reader part 3
After being kidnapped by demons, (y/n) is no where to be found by her partners Dean and Sam. Will they find her in time before it’s too late?
TW: there may some some added violence as requested but nothing more than what would be shown in the show, we’re keeping it PG - 13.
Part two is here!
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Sam entered the main room of the bunker, his phone up to his ear. Dean stood at the table, leaning down onto it. His hands gripped the edges as another failed locator spell fizzled out.
“Yeah, thanks.” Sam said as he ended his call and watched Dean fall back into a chair, rubbing his face and groaning.
“So, I just got off the phone with Garth. He asked some of his wife’s relatives to check out the area that (Y/N) was taken but the trail ends a few miles down the road.”
“Great. Just great. Angels, werewolves, hunters. And no one can seem to find her.” Dean became more and more agitated. How can they stop the apocalypse twice but they can't find (Y/N)? It should be simple. It should just be a locator spell and a car trip to send whoever took her back to where ever the hell they came from.
"Dean, if you don't think that I'm doing everything I can-" Sam began.
“You’re not doing everything, Sam.” He slammed his hand down on the table, “Neither of us are doing everything. We’re missing something. Something that we didn’t see before.”
“We searched the house top to bottom, everyone is on high alert. It’s been two months I think it might be time to be looking...somewhere else?” Sam hated to even suggest what he was.
“And where’s that? Are you telling me we should be looking for a grave?” Dean almost choked on his words as they came out, “No. No, she’s alive. Wherever she is, (Y/N) is giving them hell. I can feel it.” He felt his phone going off in his pocket, stood and started making his way out of the room.
We have to find her, he thought as he answered the phone: “Crowley, this better be good.”
- A rush of freezing water woke (Y/N) from her sleep. The shock to her system had her gasping for breath, sputtering and coughing.
“Wakey, wakey, dear.” The female demon was back with her chipper demeanor, “Feel like talking today?” She asked she set down a blue bucket. Talk? Two months of screaming... but to talk? (Y/N) didn’t know if she could anymore. She opened her mouth to speak but no words came out. Just air. Any sounds that could have come out were only tiny grunts from the lingering pain in her leg that saw haphazardly bandaged.
“Helloooo?” The demon sang, “Nothing? You’re usually so snappy. Don’t tell me you’ve lost your spirit.” She pouted. The demon besides her had just been standing there, staring down at (Y/N) from the shadows.
With what little strength she had, (Y/N) became moving her fingers slowly.
F
U
C
The woman finally seemed to notice what she was saying and smacked her across the face. But she continued, despite the pain.
K
Y
O
U
The woman smiled grimly, “You’ve kept it up. Reminds me of older brother. What’s his name?” She hummed, “Oh right... Dean. You’re a lot like him. Stubborn and willing to die for someone else.” She crouched down to meet (Y/N)’s eyes.
“But there’s a difference between you two. Because he’s not willing to die for you. They left you behind. They aren’t trying to find you. If they were, they would have been here by now.”
No, they’re looking for me. Dean and Sam always come, She thought, they’re coming.
Aren’t they?
“They aren’t coming. You aren’t family to them.” The demon stood, “Think about it. Dean fist fought Lucifer for Sam, the actual devil. We’re just demons, we should be a piece of cake for him. But he’s not here. He’s not coming to save you. You don’t even exist to him.” She turned her back and started walking out the door.
“You’re wrong...” (Y/N)’s voice was soft and sounded like she gargled nails, “Dean and Sam are looking... for me.”
“Keep telling yourself that.” The demon didn’t even glance back as she continued to walk, “Phenex, show her what you can do.” The door slammed shut and the demon who had been standing there walked forward. From his jacket pocket he revealed a dark, sharp blade.
“Do you know your blood type?” He asked. (Y/N) shook her head no.
“I’ll figure it out as we go.”
As the woman walked away from the door holding the hunter she expected the screaming she had been accustomed for the last two months. Instead there was just a loud gut wrenching scream and then silence.
-
As Rowena appeared at the door, she gave Dean and Sam one of her classic condescending smiles.
“Well boys, long time no see.” She made her way through the threshold, “I was told that you require my assistance. As usual.” She set down her big bag down and sat down in one of the chairs are the world map table, crossing one leg over the other.
“Uh, yeah.” Sam said, holding a basket of items and placing them on the table next to her, “(Y/N) has been missing for two months. We’ve tried everything within our power with Cass and Crowley, other hunters. We figured that you have something more powerful up your sleeve. And will work.” Dean hadn’t said a word, his arms crossed and his jaw was tight.
Rowena’s smile fell as she heard the news, thrown off by it even. (Y/N) was the last person she thought someone would have the jump on but it was clear this wasn’t a normal situation. If the angels couldn’t find her, it was up to Rowena.
Sam pointed to the basket, “That’s everything she uses on a daily basis.” There were the most mundane things a hunter could own: a hairbrush, tooth brush, some hair ties, and a little cat figurine. She help the little plastic feline and looked it over.
“Odd little thing, isn’t it?” She made the comment mostly to herself. But Dean spoke up.
“(Y/N) looked after a little stray cat when she was on her own. She named him Timothy. I got that for her when he died.” He said.
(Y/N) had been sitting outside for what seemed like hours. After burying the little stray, she just sat there and stared at the mound of dirt. Dean hadn’t been particularly fond of the stray. He was losing more and more hair every day. He lost his teeth so he could only eat smelly soft food. Since he had gone blind, he would yowl in the night trying to find (Y/N). He’d cursed that cat more times than he could count. But when he finally died of old age, Dean thought he would be relieved. But was like their whole schedule was missing something. He hadn’t gone to the “funeral” (Y/N) and Sam held. But now it was nearly sunset and she was still sitting there.
Dean took a deep breath and went outside. (Y/N) didn’t look at him when he sat down, just continued to stare at the cross made out of twigs and rubber bands that marked his grave.
“I’m sorry about... Timothy.” He said to break the silence.
“No, you’re not.” She whispered. He raised an eyebrow at her, shifting so his body was facing her.
“You always complained he was in your way, called him a son of a bitch when he woke you up in the night.”
“I mean... I didn’t care for him but I didn’t hate him.”
“Oh yeah?” She finally looked at him, “Why don’t you say some words for him?”
“Um... Okay.” Dean clenched his jaw and looked at the grave, “Oh little, old Timothy... You were so old... and wise... and blind... and orange-”
“Stop.” (Y/N) said. There was a small smile on her face, “You’re just embarrassing yourself.”
Dean shook his head and dug inside his pocket where he produced a little orange cat figurine he picked up from the store on his last supply run, “Here.” She took the little thing from his hand and stared at it. When she didn’t say anything, he stood up and wiped off the back of his jeans of grass and dirt.
“Dinner will be ready soon. Whenever you’re ready.” He made his way back inside. But what he didn’t see what she started to cry again, but these were tears of joy.
-
Dean remembered going back to the house where (Y/N) was taken and finding it on the floor. The tail was crooked, probably one of those bastards stepped on it after it fell out of her pocket. She put up a fight, even made one of them bleed. But she couldn’t take them by herself, not when she was ambushed like that. If only he had stopped arguing with her, none of this would have happened. He shouldn’t have left her alone in the house. It was his fault she was gone. And he was going to find her, no matter the cost.
----------------------
I got a rush of creative juices so here we are! Thanks to everyone for sticking around!
Read part 4 here!
Reblogs, likes, and comments are appreciated!
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#dean winchester#dean winchester fic#dean x reader#supernatural#supernatural fic#supernatural reader insert
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Who am I to you?
It started with a kiss. That’s all it took. All it took to have Eddie silencing his sobs with his pillow that night. Then that kiss turned into Richie skipping lunch with the losers every couple of days to go make out with his side piece in the janitor’s closet. That made Eddie not come to lunch either. Then those little moments away from the group turned into Richie skipping out on his and Eddie’s plans to go hang out with his girlfriend, which in turn made Eddie stop hanging out with the Losers all together.
He didn’t want to be anywhere near Richie or anything associated with him.
Richie meant everything to Eddie. He would hide it behind all the jokes and fights and insults, but he loved Richie so much. Ever since 6th grade, Eddie had wanted to be more to Richie than just his friend, but the comments Richie made about gay people made Eddie hide his feelings a lot. Everything about Richie made Eddie’s heart flutter. He just wanted to be his, and be able to look at Richie and think “he’s mine”
The only time Richie and Eddie saw each other after that was English class. But instead of having desks pressed together, passing notes, loud laughs and unfinished work, Richie and Eddie were on opposite sides of the classroom. Richie with his girlfriend, and Eddie on his own. Eddie’s work was done much quicker, much better as well. The teacher was happy that he didn’t have Richie weighing him down.
Eddie wasn’t. Nobody had seen him smile in weeks. Occasionally, the other Losers would individually spend some time with him. He always seemed closed off, his demeanour no longer overactive and extreme. It was obvious he was depressed.
Richie wasn’t doing so well either. Sure, he was happy with his girlfriend, Lucy, but he was still upset. Eddie wasn’t talking to him, and all the other Losers were barely giving him the time of day. He almost wanted to break up with her so that things could go back to the ways they were. But that’s insane. He loves her.
He loves her. Eddie thought as he watched the two cuddle up to each other in class. He just lay his head down on his desk. He had finished all the work leading up until next Monday. He just let himself melt into the wooden table.
Richie watched from across the class. Eddie would usually be freaking out about how disgusting the tables were. He would barely touch them, to the point where certain teachers would keep spray bleach bottles in their classes to let him clean the desk before sitting in it. But here he was, face pressed fully into it. That made Richie nervous. God, something must be wrong. This wasn’t like Eddie at all.
The teacher started handing out graded works. Some sort of creative writing type of thing. She handed Lucy’s hers, and then Richie’s his. A large 98% of the top. Richie’s eyes almost popped out of his head. This was impossible! He had written some bullshit about coyotes roaming through the desert and starting fights. Even though he was a straight-A student, English was kicking his ass this year for some reason. It didn’t really matter though, he’d already gotten accepted into his dream college, so a few bad English grades wouldn’t do that much damage. And besides, the school year was ending in a week. Graduation had already passed and most of the exams were done. But there’s no way in hell he got this high of a grade for what he wrote. He checked the name on the top.
E. Kaspbrak
The teacher had given him Eddies and his. He checked his own quickly. 57%. Yup, that made more sense. But now he was curious. Eddie used to always show him his work beforehand. Used to always ask for his opinion. He glanced over to see Eddie asleep on his desk. Guess what the kid doesn’t know won’t hurt him? Richie began reading.
‘Who am I to you? What place do I take in your mind? What do you see me as? Am I your friend? Your foe? Someone just for you to talk to? Was I used to fill in an empty space? Do you really need me, or are you just using me for my kindness? I’ve had people like that in my life before. I was used by those people because I was submissive to them. They just used me because I let them. I never fought them on it. I let them use me for whatever they wanted. I let them treat me like shit just because I was afraid of being all alone. In my head, being alone was worse than being abused and made fun of. I would rather be called horrible names, be embarrassed about myself, hate every single thing about myself than be left alone to my own devices. I now have to pay for that. I have to pay for my actions. I can’t look at myself in the mirror without hearing the names they would call me. Fag, dumbass, useless, a waste of space. I had heard about abusive relationships before, but I thought that I couldn’t possibly be in one. Am I like that to you? Just a punching bag for your words or a punchline at the ends of your jokes? Do I even matter to you? Am I worth your time? My mind made up these situations where you admit to me how much you hate me and how you find me worthless, and I started believing them. I let my mind create multiple situations where you leave me and let me be, and that’s what I’m afraid of. I’m afraid of you leaving me. And right now, I think you just did’
Richie’s heart shattered like a mirror getting hit with a baseball. Eddie, his Eddie, was feeling this way. His Eddie didn’t feel wanted. Richie kept himself from crying. He made a mental note to talk to Eddie after school about all this. “Babe? Is everything alright?” Lucy asked from beside him. “Yeah babe, everything alright.”
The rest of the school day felt like it was going on forever for Richie. It was only two classes but it felt like every second passing by was actually a minute. But when the last bell rang, he sprinted out of class to his locker. It wouldn’t be hard to find Eddie, he takes the same route to walk himself back home every day. He hasn’t changed it since they started going to this school. That’s something that Richie liked about Eddie. His consistency. He needed that in his life. His mind would bounce from subject to subject so quickly that nothing was ever exactly the same to him. He could never do something twice exactly the same. But Eddie, Eddie could continuously do everything exactly the same all the time. He needed those patterns to exist. Richie envied that.
“If you were in such a rush to see me, I could’ve met you at your class silly.” A voice said as Richie frantically packed up his bag. “Oh, Lucy, Hi. Listen I’m going to have to cancel our plans for tonight. I really need to see a family friend.” Richie watched as confusion and then hurt painted this poor’s girl’s face. “Oh, alright. I’ll see you later I guess.” She mumbled as she walked away. Richie felt bad. Every time he tried to cancel plans with her, she’d take it as a personal hit. That’s why he had been blowing Eddie off, cause he knew that Eddie would understand better than Lucy.
Girls were complicated. They didn’t always settle like guys did. Most of the guys Richie knew would take whatever answer they were given and settle with it, but girls would argue and try to get their point across. Girls needed to be right. Guys liked to be right. Richie really did believe this.
Richie ran as fast as possible from his locker, out the front door, past the parking lot, just in time to catch Eddie leave the school property. “Fuck!” Richie sighed out when he finally stopped running. Eddie barely noticed who was behind him, thinking it was the younger students that had taken a liking to him and would walk home with him every few days. “Do you kiss your mother with that mouth?” Eddie asked, still not turning around. “No, but I kiss yours, and she seems to enjoy it.” Eddie froze and his heart dropped so fast it practically hit his feet. Richie. It was Richie. “H-hi trashmouth.”
Eddie had no plan, no idea what he should do. God, why did Richie have to be like this? He was so socially unaware of everything happening around him, he never seemed to take how others were feeling into consideration. Eddie wished he could be more like Richie, not caring what others think, not needing their approval. He wished he could just blow through life saying and doing whatever he wanted and not having to take any guff from people. He wished he was brave enough to just be himself.
“So, Eddie Spaghetti, y’know in English class today? When Mrs. Cass handed out our work?” Eddie didn’t remember. What work? He shook his head, indicating to Richie that he hadn’t been aware of this. “Oh right, you were asleep. Well, you see, Mrs. Cass was handing out our corrected creative writing work, and I guess her brain was still used to us sitting next to each other cause she gave me your work too.” If Eddie’s heart was at his feet, his stomach had joined it. He had written that very quickly one night when he was upset and just handed it in without giving a second thought. He wasn’t usually the one to make a vent work, but he had done it this time. He didn’t think anyone besides his teacher would read it. But knowing that Richie read it made him afraid. Those were his private feelings, a secret message he had made for the boy, and he had read it like it was nothing. “W-why would you do that?” He hissed. Richie was taken aback. He hadn’t seen any malice with what he had done. He was concerned for his friends well being, why was he acting so offended “Do you still have it, Richie?” He snapped afterwards. “Uh, yeah, here it is.” Richie said confusingly, handing the smaller boy his paper. Eddie grabbed it as fast as possible and started walking away. “Wait! Where are you going?” “Home.” Eddie had quickened his pace. It was obvious he was trying to get out of there as fast as possible. “I thought maybe we could hang out to make up for the times I couldn’t.” Richie said, jogging to catch up with the smaller boy. But he had stopped abruptly hearing that. Eddie was filled with rage, and it was evident with his body language. “Make up for the times you couldn’t? No Richie. You’d be making up for the times you blew me off just so you could spend time with Lucy! You didn’t ask me beforehand, you never gave me a heads up that you weren’t coming! That was a real dick move Rich.” Richie didn’t know how to react. He really thought Eddie would’ve understood. “I-I just thought-” “Did you think I wouldn’t care? You think I would’ve just been like ‘Welp, better luck next time.’ You know me by now Richie.” Eddie continued walking home. “Eddie I’m sorry but we really need to talk. Eds, slow down! Eddie, you scared me!” He shouted. Eddie turned around to face him. “Your writing, it scared me so much. I-I didn’t know you w-were feeling like that. I was scared that you were going to do something bad Eds. Please, just let me hang out with you tonight. let me know you’re ok. I’m sorry.”
Eddie took a deep breath. Everything was too much right now. He was just moments from crying. “I’m fine Richie, really. Just….just go hang out with your girlfriend.” Eddie turned himself back around, dead set on leaving for home for real now.
Richie was struck with a realization. This wasn’t about the reading of the paper. This was about something else. Richie could tell by the way Eddie had said girlfriend
“Wait, are you mad at me for having a girlfriend?” The question hit Eddie right in the chest, making him lose his breath. “N-no.” Richie could tell he was lying. “You are. You’re jealous of her. Listen Eds, I’m not your property. I can hang out with who I want. I can date who I want. I don’t belong to you. I’m sorry for blowing you off but I thought you’d understand cause you're my friend.” Eddie’s lips trembled with the feeling of holding back tears. He still had his back to Richie. “I cancelled plans with her tonight cause I’m concerned for you! God, you’re such a whiny bitch.”
That’s all it took. Those words said usually teasingly, now said to hurt him. Those words were all it took to break Eddie’s heart. And all it took for Eddie to try to break Richie’s nose.
For the first time in his life, Edward Kaspbrak threw a punch. He turned around without thinking and punched Richie square in the face. He could hear himself screaming shut up while he did it, but the aftermath was a gut-wrenching silence. Richie held his breath as he saw the blood on his fingers. It was coming from his nose. He was hurt and concerned for himself, but he couldn’t help but chuckle.
“You finally did it Eds. You finally stood up to me.”
Eddie couldn’t stop himself from crying as he apologized profusely. “Hey, don’t be sorry. You’ve got a good punch. Bill teach you how to do that?” He chuckled, spitting out the blood that had leaked into his mouth. He knew he pushed Eddie too far. It was evident. “Beep fucking beep Richie.” Eddie hissed as he pulled tissues out of his backpack. “I’m sorry. That wasn’t very kind of me. You wouldn’t think like that bud.” Eddie wasn’t used to Richie being so calm. It was as if the punch had rebooted him. “Richie, you’re in shock.” “Of course I’m shocked, you just punched me Eds.” “No! That’s not what- nevermind. We need to get you cleaned up.” Eddie continued to clean up the bloody nose. They were lucky almost none got on Richie’s clothes. They even took a quick jog to the pharmacy to get some water to clean it up, asking the obviously coke buzzed pharmacist if Eddie had succeeded at breaking Richie’s nose. He said no, but some bruising would definitely appear. Richie smacked Eddie’s back in pride, saying something along the lines of ‘Eddie spaghetti finally grew some balls huh?’ But Eddie felt nothing like that.
Eddie felt sick to his stomach. He knew that Richie was right, that’s why he reacted the way he did. He didn’t want anyone, especially Richie, knowing how he felt about him. So he needed to shut him up. His heart was so heavy with guilt. Richie was praising him for his reaction, but Eddie this wasn’t something you’d praised someone for. He was hiding his secret behind the pain Richie was in.
Eddie let Richie stay the night out of pity. His mom was quite surprised to see the boy but didn’t question it. She had learned to just let Richie over or else Eddie would just run off to his house. She didn’t question the bruises on Richie’s face, mumbling something about his father under her breath. Eddie was so nervous and stressed about having the boy in his house, he didn’t notice Richie intensely looking at his arms when he took his coat off, sighing in relief when he saw nothing there besides unmarked skin.
The boys ran up to Eddie’s room. Richie immediately threw himself onto Eddie’s bed, a lopsided grin on his face as he waited for Eddie to join him in the bed to cuddle like they usually did. But he didn’t. He stood in the doorway with his arms crossed over his stomach as he stared at the ground. “Richie...I know you said you didn’t care and that your proud of me for punching you….but, did I hurt you?” Richie looked like he was contemplating his answer. His throat flexed and then relaxed, indicating he gulped his saliva. “Well, you obviously hurt me, but like you didn’t cause any emotional pain I guess?” “Yeah, I get that. But like, if anyone else would’ve done that, any of the other losers, you would’ve beat them up so hard and not talked to them for days. Why are you treating me differently?”
Another gulp. There were things that Richie was hiding, parts of himself he was afraid of letting anyone else know. He felt his incisors bite down on the tip of his tongue to control himself. Every ounce in his body was screaming at him to just say it. Every muscle pulling him into Eddie’s arms, his heart racing in his chest, his lungs breathing in quicker and quicker. Three words, that’s all it was. It would only take three little words and he’d know. That there was a reason he didn’t go out with a girl until now. There was a reason he’d been so close to Eddie for such a long time. There was a reason that at night he had to convince himself that he loved Lucy and that he wanted to stay with her. A taunting voice at the back of his head told him to say it, to just get it over with. But for once in his short life, Richie thought before he spoke.
“It’s cause I’m nervous for you.” Eddie was confused and it evidently showed on his face, because Richie continued. “That thing you wrote. It wasn’t just a thing for the English class. I know you Eds, you always write from the heart. And I’ve never seen you write anything like this before. I didn’t want to leave you alone tonight….in case bad things happened.”
Eddie sucked in a breath. That fucking paragraph “Things between us have been weird recently since Lucy came into my life, and I’m sorry that I haven’t been paying enough attention to you….I-I’ve noticed that you haven’t been as happy as you usually are and I feel responsible for some reason. I just don’t want you to do anything dumb.” Eddie was quiet, still barely standing in his room. Richie was now sitting up in the bed. Neither of them were looking at each other. It wasn’t long before Richie heard Eddie take in stuttered breaths. “you were right.” He said in such a quiet voice Richie thought he imagined it. “You were right Rich, I’m mad that you have a girlfriend. I feel like you’ve left me.” Richie looked up at him. His nose and cheeks were blushed and his eyes were watering a lot. Richie stood up quickly to hug and comfort him. “Hey hey hey, it’s alright. I’m not leaving you. We’re still friends after all.” “No Richie, you don’t fucking get it.” Eddie said as he pushed him away. Richie just stood there in shock. “It feels like I’ve lost my chance. I know you love her and I’m happy for you, I just wished that were me. I just wished that I was more to you than your friend. I want to kiss you and call you mine. I want to share a bed with you and be able to hold you without it feeling weird. Ever since middle school friends I’ve been teetering between better of as lovers or better off without each other, and when I lost you I knew that the later wasn’t what I needed. “you’re everything to me. There isn’t a day that goes by where I don’t think of you, where I don’t crave your dumb jokes and general dumbassery. Seeing you with her has torn a hole through my heart and I was scared that if I didn’t tell you how I feel soon, it was just going to grow into a crater that could never be filled. I know you most likely don’t feel the same, and I’m sorry, I’m so fucking sorry for telling you, but you needed to know. I’m sorry that I’m too late.”
It was as if a flood gate of emotions had been opened and Eddie couldn’t keep anything in. He needed to say these things. He meant every word of the emotional rant and just stood there in the puddle of his regret, tears leaving his eyes as if he was a cloud and his shirt was the world, raining down and creating a wet patch.
Both boys just stood there frozen looking at each other after Eddie had said his little speech. Richie was crying. Staring directly at Eddie. He didn’t say anything as he picked up his backpack and left the house altogether.
Eddie broke down, throwing himself into his bed and crying into his pillow. He knew it was a bad idea. He was such an idiot. He’s lost Richie for good now, it was clear to him. Nothing mattered. His mind drifted to the box under his mom’s bed that she kept in case someone ever tried to hurt them, but pulled himself away from that quickly. What the fuck was he thinking? His crush didn’t like him and he might’ve just lost his best friend, but that’s not a reason to kill himself. He needed to talk to someone about this, and quick. He grabbed the phone next to his bed and dialled a familiar number. “Stanely Uris speak-” “Stan! I told him!” Silence from the other end of the line. Eddie could hear Stan closing a door and then returning to his bed. “How did he react?” “Left my house immediately.” There was a sigh from the other end of the line. Stanley could hear the hurt in Eddie’s voice. A slight tremble that wasn’t there usually. “Richard Tozier, you dumbass.” He mumbled to himself as he grabbed his bag. No use talking over the phone, Eddie needed to be comforted in person. “Eddie, I’m sorry that I’m hanging up now, but I’m on my way over.” “Alright, Stan.” They hung up their phones and Stan made his way over, making a slight detour towards the man of the hour’s house.
Eddie had told Stanley by accident in 9th grade. Eddie had a knack for sleep talking occasionally, only when he took medications that sedate you. That night in particular he had a slight scratch in his throat so his mother had begged him to take a dose of some cough medicine. When he had fallen asleep, he was quite verbal during his dream in which he and Richie seemed to be doing….things. Stan had stayed awake laying on the floor next to Eddie, debating keeping this to himself or mentioning it to Eddie the next day. In the morning, while the two were making breakfast for themselves since Mrs. K had run out to do her daily errands, Stan asked him what his dream was since the nightly noises seemed to indicate he was having a ‘fun time’. Eddie lost his breath hearing Stan say that. He had tried to stutter out an excuse but Stan silenced him with a hug, comforting him and saying that he was fine with him being gay, telling him he’s proud of him. Eddie broke down in Stan’s arms, crying and clinging onto him for dear life. Stan cried a bit too, admitting his crush on Bill. The boys spend the rest of the morning talking about their fears.
Stan slammed his fist against Richie’s front door, hearing some yells behind it. Went opened the door and stared down at the unimpressed looking teenager. “I need to borrow your son.” “RICHIE!!!! ONE OF YOUR FRIENDS IS HERE!!!” He yelled before walking back into the living room. Richie sulked his way down the stairs to the entrance. “Look, Eddie, I’m not in the mood to talk- oh hey Stan the man, what’s up?” Richie said, trying to hide his awkward hurt mood with the usual nickname. Stan almost audibly gasped at the bruise formed on Richie’s face but ignored it. He just grabbed Richie by the ear and started to drag him down the road. “owowowowowowow! Stan what the fuck! ow where are we going?” Stan didn’t say anything as he dragged the boy towards the house he had been at less than an hour earlier.
Richie was finally able to free himself when they were only a few houses away. “Stan! I can’t go back in there...He must hate me.” He grabbed his temples, frustrated with his past actions. He wasn’t ready for Eddie to tell him. Well, he wasn’t ready to tell Eddie he felt the same way. He had known for a while that he wasn’t straight, but had denied himself from accepting that. He refused to think of himself as gay. He loved Eddie, he wanted Eddie the way he wanted him. But he had ruined things. Eddie probably hated him. He looked up to see Stan giving him the most ‘I’m about to smack you so hard you’re great-grandchildren will feel it so don’t try me.’ look.
“Oh, he must hate you? After you walked out after he confessed his love for you after hiding this secret since 6th grade? Oh no, I’m sure you’re fine.” He said in a sarcastic tone as he knocked on Eddie’s door. He knew these dumbasses weren’t going to fix things on their own so he had to give them that push to solve their problems. “Stan! There you are…..” Eddie trailed off when he noticed Richie standing next to him.
Stan didn’t let either of them say anything, he just grabbed them by their hands and dragged them upstairs to Eddie’s room, throwing them both in there. “I’m going to stand outside this door and neither of you are allowed to leave until you solve your problems.” He said right before he slammed the door shut.
The two stood there unable to think, barely able to breathe. Where were they supposed to go from there? Neither of them knew what to say. But Richie just went with it. “I’m sorry for leaving….I panicked.” He mumbled, looking over Eddie’s face for any sign of emotion. He just nodded solemnly. “You should be yelling at me.” Eddie just shook his head. He looked like he was going to say something so Richie gave him the room to speak. “You don’t yell at the people you love.” Richie’s heart started beating faster. He still loved him. The statement reminded him of earlier that day, the bruising punch Eddie gave him and his internal refusal to react. He loved Eddie too much to be mad, even if the punch really did hurt, how in the hell does someone his size hit like that? No! Focus trashmouth.
Stan was trying his best to listen along to the conversation through the door. “Stanley Uris? Well isn’t this a shock.” Mrs. Kaspbrak said as she stood at the end of the hallway. Stan sighed under his breath and turned to the large woman with an even larger smile. “Hello Mrs. K! How are you?” He said, needing to keep this woman as far away from the room as possible to keep Eddie and Richie safe. “Well Eddie didn’t tell me you were coming over.” She said as she waddled towards the door. “Uh well yeah. We were studying with Richie but took a quick break. Say, Mrs K, you’ve been to the new pharmacy in town. How is it? How’s the service. Spare no detail.” Eddie was going to owe him a big one later. “Oh god, the place is a disaster! It’ll take me hours to break down the complexity of how horrendous it is.” “I’ve got all the time in the world. Let’s go to the living room to chat!”
Richie and Eddie were sat in silence again, the two still trying to find words. Richie had sat himself down on Eddie’s bed, the asthmatic joining him. They’d been there for a few minutes. “I-I I’m sorry I made things weird.” Eds said, not looking up from his lap. Richie gave him a sideways glance. “You don’t have to apologize. You told me stuff that was bothering you. You’re allowed to do that.” More silence. Richie’s brain was trying to focus but, as usual, his brain was jumping between twenty thoughts at once. ‘God Eddie is so cute, I like him so much, I want to kiss him so badly, I need to break up with Lucy, but it’ll crush her, but this is hurting Eddie so much.’ He was sure of what he needed to do. Lucy would understand. She’d be upset, sure, but it was wrong keeping a relationship he didn’t care that much about going. He turned towards Eddie, gently placing his hand on top of his. “Hey, Eds?” “Hmm?” Richie took a deep breath, wiping his sweaty hands on his dirt and grass-stained ripped jeans. He could do this. “I...um...alright. I like you too.” Eddie had to stop himself from grabbing the inhaler in his pocket cause holy fuck oh my god Richie fucking Tozier said he liked him too. His heart was racing a million miles a minute. Richie took another breath and continued. “Remember all those things you said earlier? I feel all those things too. I-I want to be to you what you want to be to me. Does that make sense?” Eddie nodded, a wide smile growing on his face as happy tears fell down his face. “I want to be your boyfriend. Not just your friend. I want to call you mine. I know I won’t be the perfect boyfriend, but I will do my best for you Eds...I-I love you. I love you so fucking much.” He said, starting to cry as well. Both of them just sat there looking at each other, smiling and crying. This was it. The moment the two of them had been hoping for years. It was finally happening. “I love you too.” Eddie whispered, his voice trailing off a bit as he said the last word, muffled by his crying. Eddie gently placed his hands on Richie’s cheeks, wiping away some of the stray tears that fell. He slapped the right one quickly. “That’s for leaving.” He mumbled, moving closer to Richie. He wrapped his arms around Richie’s neck, pulling his face closer. He gently placed his mouth on his. The kiss was soft, sweet and perfect. Emotions and feelings poured into every movement both boys made. This was the tender moment the two had craved for years. When they finally pulled away, they had the biggest smiles on their faces. “And that’s for coming back.” Eddie said teasingly. Richie pulled Eddie by his shoulders into another kiss, laying down and dragging Eddie onto him. They continued to fool around until Eddie pulled away. “I feel like we’re forgetting something” the two took a moment until realization dawned on them. “STAN!”
note: I’m lowkey proud of this. it’s my longest one shot to date. It’s also kinda a vent fic I guess?
#reddie#reddie fic#reddie fanfiction#reddie one shot#richie tozier#eddie kaspbrak#stan uris#IT movie#it 2017#losers club aged up#fix it fic#it chapter one#it chapter two#richie x eddie#gay richie tozier#gay eddie kaspbrak
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RWBY: Team HELL Volume 1, Chapter 4: Far From Home
'Hey Cass,
Sorry you had to find out like this, but I'm going to Haven. I am taking that entrance exam, I'm going to initiation, and I'm going to become a huntress. This is probably my stupidest and most selfish decision ever, and I'm sorry. But I can't keep hiding. I can't keep living under servalance, I can't keep wondering what the world outside is like. I'm not a little kid anymore, Cass. I'm 14 and it's time I start finding myself. I'm so sorry Cass. If you don't hate me by the time you finish this letter, maybe you come down to Haven and watch me. I think they can do that, right? Maybe I can ask for you. I'll be sure to text you when I get there so you don't worry as much as you will now. I love you, Cass and I will be forever thankful for everything you've done for me.
With love,
Aurora'
That was the letter that Aurora left on her bed for Cassum to find once she left for Haven. For the past five days, she had been planning her escape, modifying her good prototypes, filling out the applications Lucio sent her over her scroll, finding an outfit that could work for whatever she was about to endure. Cassum didn't suspect anything, mainly because he was keeping his distance from what he assumed was a still angry Aurora. That morning, she slipped out the back door and made a run for it.
And then she got lost for 15 minutes until someone was kind enough to lead her in the right direction. Now, she was here, with Lucio, and about 7 minutes away from the initiation.
"He didn't respond to my text after I got here. He probably hates me." She said, nervously looking away from the older boy.
"He doesn't hate you, Ro. He just has to deal with it. He knows your not a little kid, but he can't let that part of you go." Lucio explained.
"Maybe your right..."
"Are you nervous?"
"Terrified."
"So are a hundred other people here. You'll be fine."
"I don't think I can do this."
Lucio placed his hands on her shoulders, bending down to her level. "It'll be okay, Aurora. I'll be right next you the whole step of the way. You don't have to do this alone."
Aurora smiled, wrapping her arms around Lucio for a hug. "Thanks, Lucio. That somewhat helped me."
"Glad to be of some help."
She chuckled, pulling away as she collected the rest of her things when Lucio noticed something on her belt.
"What's this?" He asked, reaching for it, a large grin growing as soon as he got a good look at it. "Aw! It's cute little piggy!"
Aurora, confused, whipped around to see what the hell he was even talking about, her eyes wide with horror.
Attached to her homemade 'utility belt,' was a small and cute plush pig keychain from when she was about 8. "Aw man! I thought I got rid of that before I left!" She exclaimed.
Lucio laughed. "It's fine! I think it's cute!"
"I'm not supposed to be cute, Lucio! I'm supposed to look like a really serious huntress!" She pouted, stomping her feet on the ground.
"I can't help it! It's adorable!"
"Hey, are you two done?" Harlow called, "it's time to go."
Aurora sighed. 'so much for looking like a serious huntress.'
She felt Lucio hand link hers, a sweet smile on his face. "You ready?"
She nodded, determined. "Yes!"
Lucio chuckled, pulling her forward as they made their way to their initiation. But an uneasy feeling still lingered inside of Aurora.
If the staff had found out about her grandmother called-'little issue'-she could be done for. They could kick her out. That's what they told her. That's what they all told her.
'Sorry to burst your bubble, kiddo. But your little issue isn't really suitable for huntin' Grimm.'
'I've already made up my mind. She's not going.'
'Poor Cassum. Having to work so hard for that strange little girl.'
She shook her head, attempting to force the negative feelings out. Just because she was autistic didn't mean she wasn't capable. It didn't mean she wasn't smart. It didn't bring her down like many people thought it did.
She was autistic and she would be proud of it.
She held her head high as she followed Lucio out the door, not noticing her silent scroll ringing.
-----------
Cassum frantically paced the living room floor back and forth, trying to get a hold of Aurora but to no avail.
"Damnit!" He yelled after once again failing to get in contact with the young runaway.
His mother stepped out from the kitchen and into the living room. "Still couldn't get a hold of her?"
He shook his head, sighing. "No."
"Should we call the cops then?"
"Ma, they're a huntsmen academy with enough money to crush us in a court case. And it's not like they forced her to go, she left willingly."
"Yeah, but Cass, she's fourteen! She's not at the legal age limit, she doesn't have any former training experience-"
"I-"
"Teaching her basic boxing skills is not training experience. She wasn't meant to be a huntress. She knows that. She's just being her ol' weirdo self."
Cassum turned to face her, obviously offended. "The hell is that supposed to mean?"
"You know what I mean. She was clearly not the huntsmen type! She would do better at-uh, I dunno, office work, maybe?"
Cassum crossed his arms, very unamused.
"Look, all I'm saying is that when they find out about her little 'issue', they'll kick her as out and she'll be back here."
"Will you stop calling it 'her little issue?' It's not an issue! She's autistic! Not diseased!" He sighed, grabbing his coat and walking out the door, "I'm done talking. I'm going to go find her. Don't wait up for me."
He slammed the door shut behind him, running the through the streets as fast as he could.
'Hang in there, Ro. I'm coming!'
--------------------------------
Aurora and Lucio sat at the back of a cargo plane with at least forty other people sitting there with them. A good majority either seemed uninterested or dead serious.
Aurora was absolutely terrified, her leg bouncing up and down so much it might as well have fallen off.
' What are they going to do with us? Where are they taking us? What if something happens to us before we get there? What if this was an utter mistake?'
She felt an hand grab onto hers and hold it tightly, messaging her knuckles. She looked up to see Lucio, the only smiling throughout this entire ride. "Don't worry too much. If anything happens, I'll be right here."
She smiled, comforted by his words.
An awful feedback noise ripped through the utter silence as Harlow came out, an old school radio mic in his hand. "Alright, listen up everyone. We're only a few minutes away from initation, so here's everything you need to know."
Everyone straightened up in their seats and looked towards the grisled huntsmen.
"Okay, before we get start, I'd like to remind you all that this is not part of any entrance exam. Most if not all of you have already taken that. This is just to test your skills as huntsmen and huntresses. We're gonna be dropping you down in the forest below. Your mission will be to locate and return the relics to the rendezvous point in one piece. During that time, you will find your team partner. The partner you get is the partner you're stuck with for the next four years here. No take-backs or trade offs. Once you two make eye contact, you're done. We'll be surveying the area, so don't try anything funny. Once all of you make it, you'll be put into your teams. You get lost-well, that's on you."
"Is he always this rough?" Aurora whispered to Lucio.
"I like to think of it as an unfunny joke." He replied.
"Any questions?"
"Yeah, how are we getting down?"
That's when Harlow should an emotion other than complete indifference and flashed a horrifyingly wide grin. "That's the fun part!"
He reached over and pulled a very big lever. The seatbelts suddenly detached and the floor beneath them opened up. Lucio looked over to Harlow, smirking.
"You sick son of a-"
Before he could finish that thought, the seats disappeared into the wall and every single student fell out of the plane.
Aurora's heart lept into her throat as one singular thought when through her mind.
This mad man just killed off the entire freshman class at Haven.
(Hello everyone. Thank you for stopping by and reading another chapter of Team Hell! As you may or may not have picked up on, Aurora is indeed autistic. I wanted to have positive autism representation in my series but I would like to know what you all think. I would hate to offend someone for poor or horrible representation. That was never my intent, so don't be afraid to tell me and I will fix it as soon as possible.)
#bri talks#rwby#my writing#bri writes#rwby oc#rwby team hell#tw; negativity#tw; negativity towards autistic people#aurora hemlock#lucio kindira#harlow clemente#cassum hemlock#autistic characters#team hell no
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fall to pieces
happy Sunday! What better way to end the weekend than with some fresh college au? because I am a merciful mistrxss, I haven’t made this serving entirely with salt (I know, I know, promises, promises). but hey I entitled it after an avril lavigne song, so it can’t be that bad, right?
enjoy!
fic masterpost // previous episode
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Sending Ellinor off to catch prince charming does wonders, momentarily, for olivia’s mood. It makes her lose sight of her own dysfunctional state of affairs. While her comrade showers she takes stock of all her surroundings, and the distraction soon fades. Her outfit cast aside on her desk chair, heels half-assed tossed to the floor by the shoe rack. At least she managed to wash her face and take out all the bobby pins, or so she thinks. Running her fingers through her hair, she finds two hanging on by a thread.
A few minutes later and she’s out of her pajamas and into a towel of her own, shower-bound. Her phone’s charged up but still plugged in; she’s checked it every time she wakes up from her poor sleep and then some, but still no messages from Cassandra and the afternoon is ticking away. Ellinor comes around the corner as she is leaving her doorway, looking all fresh and clean but face full of dread.
They face each other one last time before parting ways to clean up their messes. For some reason, they’ve been having to do that a lot lately. Head-to-head, the frown with dread and solidarity in the air, Ellinor dripping and smelling of old spice and some flowery stuff she definitely stole from Olivia after saying she thought it stunk, but lied. And likely will still lie about having “borrowed” it.
“Ready?” Ellinor asks, point blank.
Olivia nods, but then a whimper escapes her throat. “Y-yeah.”
“Not good enough, soldier. I said are we ready?”
“...Yeah!”
They stare again. Ellinor’s own whimpiness comes through in the souring of her frown and roll of her eyes. They both groan, Olivia knocking her head back as they pass each other at last.
“I’m so--”
“--Fucking tired, shit.”
“Good luck, don’t scare him!”
“Don’t worry, he already is.”
A door shuts, and Olivia slinks into the showers. The answer wasn’t the most hopeful, but she prays that Ellinor will keep up her record of fixing things that go astray. So far she’s done good, and Cullen seems like -- oh who is she kidding, he is the type to forgive if the intentions were harmless. While she hangs her towel it occurs to her she’s having one more of those sympathetic thoughts of him, and she rubs her face almost raw and lets the hot water consume her.
At least Ellinor has a plan of action, and some control over how to proceed. The shit ball is in her shit court. Olivia can’t say the same, and though she isn’t mad, it certainly leaves little for her to do but wait and worry. Cassandra isn’t a faker -- if she was angry or displeased with the way she was treated, Olivia would know. The way she looked when she shut the car door said anything but outraged. Sad, though...it did say sad. Running her hands through her hair as it rinses, Olivia can’t help but close her eyes as if it’ll help her not see the image in her mind.
By the time she emerges and returns to her dorm room Ellinor is gone, though there is a half-bent sticky note left on her door above the handle. It has a hastily-written heart on it, and a U underneath. Brief but much needed, it finds a home on her desk beside all the other ones she’s kept over the course of their friendship. Out of the corner of her eye she notices the note she pinned from Cassandra, who’s penmanship puts all others to shame, even her own.
Standing there, dripping and looking at a piece of paper as if it’s the fucking Grand Canyon or something. She always daydreamed about having some romantic youth. Dumbass, she calls herself as she shoves the closet door open and begins sifting through. What to wear? A brown paper bag and some sandals, maybe? It’s not like she’ll have anyone to impress, and if she did, the time to do it was last night. All her impress-juice had been dumped onto that party, and for what: so she could be a primadonna dick.
Eventually she pulls on some black denim skinny jeans and a grey, v-neck long-sleeve. She still has homework to do, and if she can drag her ass to the library or some other studious place, she can salvage her day and distract herself at the same time. Perfect. Fifteen minutes later she has packed her backpack, books, phone charger and all, and heads out, not looking back. She’s out on the lawn out front by the dorms, walking in her black sneakers with full commitment, when she notices a familiar purple-trimmed bike in the parking lot across the way. One that definitely has leftover residue of where a student’s parking sticker used to be.
“Fuck, shit,” she mutters. Theia.
Instantly she dives into one of the less-direct pavement paths. So much for cutting through quad and the Union building. Josie lives on-campus, but not close. Maybe if she’s there to stop by and make sure she got back safe, or something, she won’t have to worry about running into her. The last thing she needs is to deal with her before she even has a chance at seeing Cassandra. Arms folded to her chest, she hunches as she walks. It’s too late and cloudy to put sunglasses on without looking sketchy or hungover. Fuck, I wish I was hungover.
Suddenly, her phone goes off with the call ring. How it got switched off from silent mode is anyone’s guess. Olivia nearly drops dead to the ground like she’s avoiding enemy fire, and dashes for the nearest tree thick enough to hide behind. She digs through the first two pockets of her back where she usually tosses the damned thing, but it’s not until the last pocket of course that she finds it. Just as she’s about to press ignore, she sees Cassandra’s name on the caller ID.
OF FUCKING COURSE SHE HAS TO CALL WHEN I AM TRY--
“H-hello?” she whispers and squeaks at the same time, somehow, sliding the phone to her ear.
Without background noise, Cassandra’s tone comes in clear. “Hey, you okay?”
She slides down against the tree until she’s doing a half-assed version of one of those wall-sits she does at the gym when she hates herself and her glutes. Her bag goes to the grass. As wood chips off the bark and all the other sounds she’s certainly making come out loud and unmistakably concerning, she lies:
“Oh yeah! I’m fine, just--” she brushes her hair that’s collected in her face sans ponytail. “Just got out the door.”
“Oh. Gotcha. So are you in the middle of something, then?”
“Uh, um, yeah and no?”
“...”
“I was just...ow, fuck!” a shard of wood sticks her right in the ass cheek and she bounces off the tree, spinning around to face it like a foe.
“Olivia? You sure you’re okay?”
“Argh--yeah! I just...my calculator in my...pocket, it, er, stuck me in the ribs--”
“...you own a calculator?”
Why the hell did I say calculator? Why couldn’t I -- agh, fuck. “Yes, for just in case I...you know, um, I’m a little tired, so bare with me. I’m not good with words. You okay? D-did you go to…”
“--Church? Yes, I did.” There’s sounds of zippers and voices. “We just got done with practice, I’m at the fields still. I was wondering if you wanted…”
“Yes!”
“...to…”
“Ye--I mean, um, ahem,” she clears her throat, looking around for anyone who could be playing witness to her heinously embarrassing attempt to fit into the scenery. Sunday afternoons are quiet on campus, thank goodness. “I mean, you were saying?”
“Ahah, I meant...um, hold on a sec,” she mutters something away from the phone mic, vaguely authoritative. Then, a “no,” which is the only thing Olivia can tell for sure. “Uh, sorry, you still there?”
She’s started pacing. So much for not being seen. “Yeah!”
“Cool. I was...I mean...oh, hey, Ellinor is here?”
Get to the point Cassandra, please, please, please say you wanna -- “Oh! Yeah! Uh,” she takes a breath that’s about as useful for her nerves as a straight chug of mountain dew, “she said something about meeting Cullen after practice.”
“I...see.” She sounds concerned and slightly distracted. “I hope everything’s okay. This morning I ate a breakfast that I don’t think was...well, intended for me.”
Yikes. Time to pretend she had no idea, like she didn’t read the texts or get on Ellinor’s case about being a brunch-buster. “Oh, shit…” she lingers a few syllables on the cuss word, for added authenticity. “That sounds...um, rough.”
“Uh huh…” Cassandra’s talking like she’s walking, her breath pace changing. If she’s skeptical, Olivia can’t fully tell. “Well, anyways, has your day gone okay?”
God dammit, no, ask what you wanted to ask! “It’s gone good. Slow and steady, ya know. I’m just...swimmin,’ ahah.”
“You keep forgetting you’re bad liar, you know.”
Butterflies. Butterflies and regret and bubbles and all the weird feelings that can happen in someone’s gut without them feeling like they need hospitalization. “Uh…” She stops when she hears the sound of a car trunk opening through the phone.
“I’m just tired, I’ve been reading a lot, Cass,” she lets the frustration seep through even in her lying, and immediately regrets it. Rubbing the back of her neck, she looks off into the greenery and picturesque layout of buildings and their unlit windows and could already think of a billion other ways she could have answered. “I’m...I mean--”
“Oh, hey, no, I didn’t mean it like that. Um, hold on again, sorry.” Cassandra lets out a breath, then the sound of a car door, and then jingling. “Cullen and I drove to practice thinking we’d go get some ice cream or something afterwards, but it appears plans have changed.”
“So you have to drive his car again?”
“Well, I don’t have to, I just saw him and Ellinor walking off the field and assumed that’s how he’s gonna get back, and this lot isn’t for overnight parking.”
This conversation is going nowhere. Maybe it shouldn’t go anywhere. She isn’t exactly in the shape or mind to be perfectly sympathetic and patient, as evidenced by the way she’s damn-near vibrating with anxiety. Maybe what she wanted from the day wasn’t fair to ask, and seeing her would only do more harm than good.
“So,” Cassandra continues, and the ignition goes off. “I know you’ve been studying, but would you be willing to be my plan B companion for ice cream?”
“Sure! Yeah! No, I’ll meet you at the Blue lot by the gym?” Fuck, well, there went that constructive thought.
“Cool, I’ll be there in a couple minutes max.”
“Cool!”
They hang up, and as soon as she hits the red button Olivia groans and tossed her head back, hands on her eyes to block out the hopeful sight of the day and the birds chirping and all that nonsense. Surely at this point someone is filming her from a window to post it on one of those college humor facebook pages, captioning it “tfw your mom and dad call saying they got your mastercard bank statement.” In all actuality the caption should be “tfw you dare to be bisexual and in public at the same time.”
She does as she promises, though, and picks up her God forsaken backpack and marches her way through the shortcut path to the lot. With each step she tries to forget the guilt and nerves she has, the social anxiety she has in response to Cassandra acting like everything is fine. Is everything fine? Is this her way of broaching the talk they planned to have? Or is this some way to get Olivia to forget it and go back to being blissfully drowning in the honeymoon phase? Fuck, if their honeymoon phase in danger of a premature death? Are they in danger of premature death? How--
Before she knows it and can center herself, she’s on the curb and Cassandra is pulling up in that same black care she dropped her off in. The Ruther...Rutherf--...
She gets in, puzzled and stairing straight ahead. Without a word.
Cassandra stares, both hands at the wheel. “...Hey?”
“Rutherf...dammit, I’ve already said that one…”
“What?”
“Ruther...Rutherferrari? That’s dumb. No…” she folds her arms once she has her seatbelt on. “Fucking...dammit.”
“Are you...are you trying to come up with a name for the car?”
Olivia looks over at long last, and if she was already at a loss for thought, the look of Cassandra still sweaty and in her soccer jersey and shorts makes her a lost cause. Her mouth goes agape, though she’s still pouting. “Uhm, no!”
“You so are.” Cassandra grins, before looking up in the mirror. Someone’s pulling up behind them, so she puts it in gear and goes forward. Her eyes flash back onto her, checking that she did in fact put on her seatbelt. She’s so careful.
“I just can’t believe there’s only one car-related word that starts with an F! It can’t just be Ford!”
“You said it yourself, Ruther…” she stops and bites back a chuckle. “Rutherferrari.”
“See! It’s stupid! Even you think so. There has to be a better one…” She continues her stubborn search and looks out the passenger window as campus passes by at the very legal 15 mph pace. Just beyond a row of hills, the soccer fields come into view, empty. No sign of Ellinor or Cullen. Checking her phone, there are no messages or missed calls. Whatever is happening between them, it’s going somewhat well?
“Rutherfour-wheel-drive.”
Olivia blinks, her head jerking forward. “W-what?” She looks over and sees Cassandra smiling.
“Ruther-four-wheel-drive,” she repeats, and they pull out of the campus entrance.
Olivia rolls her lips shut and raises a brow. She’s quiet so long Cassandra has to look over, concerned. “What?” she asks as they stop at a red light.
“I...I just…”
“Is that a bad one?”
“No, I just...I never thought I could be so proud of someone in my entire life,” she says with a fake weepy voice, her hand laying flat on her chest like she’s accepting a Miss America award. “My God, no, I can’t cry, my lashes!”
“Ugh, smartass!” Cassandra fake-sneers, and presses the gas pedal. They’re on the move again, and while Olivia’s laughing, she turns up the radio a little bit. It’s hooked up to her phone via aux, playing some acoustic cover. Finally Olivia settles down and lays her head back against the headrest, a satisfied grin on her face.
“I’m sorry, it was really good, babe.”
Cassandra doesn’t respond sharply like she does. It gives Olivia time to realize, fuck, she’s called her babe. It rolls off her tongue like honey she’s been parched of all day, all week, all along. Still it’s clumsy as hell. How can something be both those things? If she plays cool, though, maybe it’ll be cool. Maybe it’ll be fine. Maybe --
“Uh, I mean...um…” well, so much for playing cool.
Cassandra smirks as they pull into a parking lot behind the ice cream shop. She’s chosen the one downtown, a small little place, but good stuff. She doesn’t make any comment, or refusal. Just smirks. It’s almost worse than if she started cleverly chiding her for it, or egging her on. Worse in that it’s...it’s welcoming. Welcoming and right. Olivia doesn’t have the guts to try more of her shitty luck at self-expression, so she’s quiet but polite as they get out of the car and walk into the place. It’s all white and bright, like a quintessential ice creamery, with colorfully decorated chalkboards lining the walls. They order, but not before Olivia samples three different flavors, no less than that -- she has to be thorough, after all. Cassandra never frowns or shows distaste for it, though, and soon they’re walking out with two waffle cones, Cassandra’s of rocky road, and Olivia’s caramel fudge ripple.
“Come on, let’s go for a walk,” Cassandra recommends as they exit, Olivia already taking the right towards the parking lot. She stops and hesitates, looking down the straight, idyllic downtown street she’s gesturing towards.
“Oh...uh, you sure?”
“Yeah. I mean, it’s not like I can drive with this,” Cassandra shrugs, holding her ice cream. It’s all neat, while Olivia is already fending off dripping around the sides. Classic.
“Oh. Okay. Um, sure! I mean,” Olivia starts walking with her, slow and playful in her swinging step, “it’s your reputation on the line, you being in public all gross and sweaty.”
“Is it?” Cassandra joins her, and without warning leans up against her, rubbing her shoulder and arm against Olivia and her freshly showered and clean self.
“Cassandra Penta...agh!” She shrieks and lurches away, but can’t help but laugh. Her ice cream skews, but she manages to keep it level with the ground. Precious, precious ice cream.
Cassandra laughs, and goes back to licking her own scoops. “I don’t know what you’re talking about!”
“Uh huh,” Olivia huffs, switching hands. “Don’t try to assassinate my cone. I will make you reimburse me.”
They round the corner, where a public courtyard with several tables and sets of chairs are strewn about, bordered by stone plots of greenery and fern bushes, withering and skinny in the fall weather. There’s only one other middle-aged couple on the other side with a small dog. Above them, the sky is turning dark, but not quite enough for the street lamps to turn on.
“Wanna sit?” Olivia asks, pointing to one of the tables. “I need to work on this cone, it’s falling apart.”
“Sure,” Cassandra says simply, and they make their way over. Sitting across from each other, Olivia can look at her more discreetly while she salvages what she can of her pitiful cone. Taking her first bit into it, she notices Cassandra lean back comfortably, knees spread and free arm tucked under her chest and elbow. She looks like nothing ever happened. What could she have done to bounce back so quickly?
“So…” Olivia’s curiosity slips onto her mouth. “You...have a good day?”
“Me? Yes, I did.” Cassandra wipes the corner of her mouth with her thumb. I love it when she does that. “Most of it has been spent with Cullen, since we went from Church to home and then to practice. I barely had time to do any homework.”
“I bet.” She takes another crunchy bite of her cone as it is vanishing. “And...and the rest of your night last night?”
Cassandra takes a break from eating, but doesn’t miss a beat. “Oh. I just went home and relaxed, went to bed.”
“Cool. Same.” After I spent a half hour debating whether or not to drive to the Taco Bell down the road and cry into a crunch wrap, or find Ellinor wherever she was and steal her back from Cullen, or grab my eyebrow tweezers and go challenge Theia to a gay duel for honor, or --
“I can see that look.”
Olivia blinks, shakes her head, and her cone slightly cracks beneath her grip. Its audible cringe only worsens the odds for her denial. “W-what look?”
Cassandra takes a bite of her ice cream and licks her lips, her eyes intently on Olivia in a way that makes her want to melt faster than caramel fudge ripple in the mojave desert under a magnifying glass. She gulps, and her gaze locks on what remains of her cone as she rotates it around.
“Olivia.”
“I...fuck, this thing sucks at staying together, my cone is…”
“Olivia.” That time, Cassandra moves her hand from her lap to Olivia’s. She places it just above her knee. She’s down for the count when she does that. She lowers her cone grip and looks at her, really looks at her, and the failed facade dissolves.
“Cass...I…”
“I know, I--”
“No, you don’t. Just let me say this, okay?”
She doesn’t say it angrily, but with just enough assertiveness to where Cassandra removes her hand and straightens up. Her cone is gone, somehow; Olivia must have lost track of her eating it in her spinning thoughts. She rolls the napkin and puts it on the round table in front of them. Meanwhile, Olivia takes a deep breath, and looks away towards the garden growth.
“I meant what I said last night. I am sorry I handled everything the way I did. I should have been more transparent with what I was getting you into; Ellinor and I have spent so much time partying and...and doing things just us, so it’s not always clear to me that what we do can be overwhelming to someone else.” She pauses to look at her, and Cassandra’s eyes are lowered while she listens. It helps to not have her staring at her. “I just...I wish you would have told me, but I understand why you didn’t.”
“That is my fault. Liv, I…” she runs her hand through her hair, and it glistens and sticks down to her head. “I can’t talk about all of it tonight, and I’m sorry. I might have been a bit selfish in asking you to come with me. I just wanted to see you, to know for sure that everything was okay. I know that’s perhaps...not helping.”
No, probably not. On the other hand, Cassandra admitting to doing things selfishly and without logic is endearing. To know Olivia has that much sway, now, to where she would seek out her company even though the order of things would advise otherwise...that’s not lost on her. For that, Olivia’s posture softens, and she tosses her napkin on the table where it lands next to hers.
“I think we both need a breath. Just for a bit.”
Cassandra’s soft grin fades, but she nods. “I know.”
“I know you play strong, Cass, but I don’t want you to do it moreso for me. If you’re stressed, or...or triggered, then…”
“I have my strategies, I don’t just bluff. When I’ve had some more time I will explain everything. But if you are really worried, then…”
They are both treading carefully, and somewhat cluelessly. Even so, there’s something to be appreciated about it. Olivia’s phone buzzing breaks the ongoing pressure, but she doesn’t check to see what the notification is. No, nothing’s going to divert her from this, as tired as she may be.
“Don’t worry, I won’t make you be my arm candy to any parties in the near future,” Olivia grins as a piecemeal offering, one which Cassandra matches.
“Oh? Was I not the life of the party?”
Olivia snorts. “You were of mine. Jesus Ch--” a look, and she winces and looks away. “I mean, what the HELL-icopter...gosh, heck, gee--”
“Oh enough,” Cassandra chuckles softly, and rises to her feet. When she does she holds out her hand, and leans toward her like a polite escort. “We have some more walking to do.”
“Er, but you’ve finished your ice cream?” she grips her chair readily, though she eyes her.
Cassandra shakes her head, smile broadening. “Just a couple blocks more, if you’ll indulge me just this once.”
When you talk like that I can never refuse. Olivia rolls her eyes, kidding, of course, but she stands up. Grabbing their napkins and tossing them in the trash can nearest, they resume their walking down the street. The sky has only gotten paler, and winds chilled.
“You sure you don’t want to get a coat from the car, or something?” Olivia asks, hands in her jean pockets.
Cassandra shakes her head a second time, folding her arms apparently for her own comfort rather than to preserve warmth. “No, trust me, I’m enjoying the temperature. Among other things.”
Olivia looks up and finds her eyes looking right back. It makes her world slow. She almost hates it, or so she thinks. Sooner or later she’ll run out of energy for the false translation of how it makes her feel, and she’ll have to be honest with herself, and she knows it. It makes her heart sink, for better or worse, and she looks away toward the street.
“I am, too, I guess,” she says to mock, but her voice has warmed.
“You guess?”
Olivia smirks, sucking on her teeth. She really won’t let her get away with anything, anymore. That’s how much she knows. And so she lets her hands fall from her pockets, reaching and hooking around Cassandra’s bicep. She laces her fingers together over it, in a deviation from their understood rule of limited public contact. Complicit in her rule-breaking, Cassandra steps closer to her rather than breakaway. Out her peripheral vision, Olivia can see a grin grow generously on her face. And so she sighs silently, and finally allows herself to enjoy where she is.
“By the way,” Cassandra says hushed, “you have ice cream on your nose.”
To that, Olivia grins and proceeds to wipe her nose on the shoulder of Cassandra’s jersey. “Cool. Now we’re even.”
#college au#day & age#friendship fic#fic update#ellinor trevelyan#olivia sinclair#college!olivia#modern thedas au
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all the tiny things.
Castiel lied to you. But why? He must have a job; where else would the money come from? You know the answer, you’re sure you do, but you don’t want to.
It's your fault, isn't it?
***************
When you met him years and years ago; you thought he was a small, petite man, the way he sat there by himself in the corner booth. Certainly, he didn’t look like anyone you’d become friends with or would even pay any mind. But, his booth was the only one not crowded, so you and your friends walk over to him and share the booth with him.
Your opinion doesn’t really change through the night; even his demeanour seems small and petite. Towards the end of it, he ask if he could join your outings again and you’re drunk enough not to care, so you agree. After all, he hardly disturbs you, right? He stands up then, ready to leave and you look at him – you realise he’s not small and petite, but that his shoulders are broad and that he is a tall man. You wonder why he looked so tiny while sitting by himself. You don’t wonder long, of course, but still – it’s a thought that crossed your mind.
It’s a thought that comes back now, when he stands in front of you. His words ring in your ears still, and yet you barely registered them. Something’s wrong, you know it, but you don’t understand why he wouldn’t tell you.
“I love you.”
Why say that? It’s neither the place nor the time, and Castiel’s not someone who’d try to get with someone’s boyfriend. The way he said it, it feels more like an excuse. But why would he need an excuse for something? Does he need one so that you leave him alone? Something’s wrong. Something’s really wrong, but you don’t know what it is, and you need to fix it. So you grab him tight and pull him in your arms. He deflates immediately, and you know he’s given up.
You take him home.
He tells you what happened in small, hushed tones. You wish he’d come to you sooner, but at least he’s here now. It’s gonna be hard, supporting two people with your salary, but you’re willing to try. He needs your help, and he’s clearly in no state to help himself at the moment. You get him in the tiny guest-room and get him into bed. You’ll make soup for him tomorrow, and then you’re gonna gradually make him feel better. It’s a quiet promise you make to yourself, because you’re not sure Castiel could handle that at the moment, so you tell him to sleep. He looks so tiny, again and you wonder.
It’s a bit rough, at first. Castiel doesn’t want to eat any more than the bare minimum, even though he really ought to, he hasn’t really enjoyed the shower yet and never turns on any sort of light, resulting in various bruises all across his body; and frankly, you’re at a loss.
“He doesn’t want to eat anything, Sammy”, you groan in the phone. “My food tastes good, right?” Sam’s quiet on the other end of the line and you just start to get irritated. “Uh... did you adopt a fussy baby or something?” You roll your eyes. “No. I’m talking ‘bout Castiel, who else?” And there is that damn pause yet again. Sam doesn’t need such long pauses to think, for god’s sake! “Uh, why, uh, why would you feed Castiel?” Oh.
So you explain and slap yourself mentally. It’s not like that’s public knowledge. Shit.
Sam tells you Castiel probably needs to get used to this. He needs to get used to kindness and also learning to accept it. So you should have patience and “you’re doing a good thing, Dean” blah-blah. After that conversation, however, Castiel starts to eat. It really seems like a call to Sam fixes things. You should’ve done that a lot sooner. You’re just about able to withhold a huff. After all, Castiel acts like a little fawn and you wouldn’t want to scare him away with your manliness.
It gets better over time. Castiel still looks tiny to you, but you’re not so sure how to change that. You think maybe a new job would help with that, so you gently nudge him towards that. Also, to be honest, having some more money wouldn’t be that bad. Everything’s getting a bit tight as of late. So, one evening, you decide to call Sam. He’ll know what to do – and so far he’s the only one who partly knows what happened.
“It’s been four months now”, Sam says. “He still hasn’t found anything?” You just hum. That sounds like an accusation. This whole dilemma isn’t really Castiel’s fault, is it? “It’s not like that”, you say and Sam huffs. “Really, Dean? You still wanna shield him from the world?” “Now, c’mon, Sammy, that’s hardly fair –“. “So what? Money’s not getting tight?” You bite your lip. “Well, yes, it’s kinda tight, but – “. Sam cuts you off. “Dean, he needs to contribute something, don’t you think? You’re basically a hotel by now, a free one too!” Maybe calling Sam hadn’t been the best idea. “It’s not his fault, Sam. Sorry to bother you.” You hang up and grab your hair. Son of a bitch. The worst part is, you’re not sure if Sam isn’t secretly right. Damn it, you wanted him to solve your problem, not add onto it! What are you supposed to do now? You squeeze your eyes shut. Castiel can’t know of this. You know he isn’t feeling well, and knowing this would only make it worse.
He tells you about every interview he has, and since he never mentions them again, you know how they turned out. You offer him to help look over his applications, but he always declines. You wonder if there is something embarrassing on it, but then – you can’t imagine. Castiel is nice and ordinary – he’s not the type of guy who’d ever done something embarrassing. Not that it would be a pleasant thing: but almost freezing to death on their trip is probably the most exciting thing that ever happened to him.
You bite your lip. You almost let the guy die, and here you are, calling it exciting.
“I’m gonna crash at Lisa’s place”, you tell him. You’re about to meet with your friends. You tried to coax him to go, but he doesn’t want to. He’s been absent the last few times, and Charlie and Garth have been asking. So you just told them Castiel’s probably busy. You feel like Castiel needs to tell them himself. It’s not your place. “Okay”, he says in a small tone and you hate it. You want him to speak up for himself; you want him to stand up!
But you don’t know how to breach that. So you swallow the words you want to say and turn around to leave. Maybe you should confide in Lisa. Maybe she’ll know what to do, but – you don’t know if she even likes Castiel. It’s not like she dislikes him, but... you sigh. Some small part of you damns Castiel. If he’d just kept his job, you wouldn’t be in this awkward situation right now. You shake your head in disgust.
It’s not his fault.
And you can’t make it his fault.
You try to drink your worries away. Lisa cuts you off two hours in. One hour later, she takes you home. You feel like utter shit, and Sam’s glances surely didn’t fucking help. She’s worried, she says. You scoff. She doesn’t need to worry about you. You have a job, and a girlfriend, and a home and friends and... and...
Castiel has nothing of that.
You stop dead in your tracks.
They’re your friends, Dean.
So... Castiel doesn’t have a job, he doesn’t have a friend, he doesn’t have a home and he doesn’t have a boyfriend.
I love you.
You turn to Lisa and she stares up at you, clearly worried. You hug her and her warmth seeps through you. “Hey, Lis.” She moves her head against your chest. “One should help a friend in need, no matter how long it takes, right?” She takes a step back. “Yes”, she says, all sincere. “Is everything okay?” You smile. She would help you, you know that. You shake her head. “I’m tired. Let’s go to sleep.” She nods and holds your hand. It’s a nice feeling and briefly, you think about a lonely Castiel, sitting on the couch, all alone. You push the thought away.
It’s about two weeks later, and you been pondering over your bank account for hours now. Charlie’s birthday is coming up, but you can’t really afford to buy her anything. All you can think of gifting her has the label Harry Potter or Star Wars on it, and that’s just too expensive. You almost hurled your phone away when you looked up the price of a nice Dice-set. So you call Sam. So stupid.
“I’m kinda running tight, Sammy”, you say through your teeth. “I know it’s her birthday, but I just can’t, okay? Can’t you buy something, and I pitch in, or whatever?” Sam huffs. “I know how you could’ve saved up some money for her gift.” You grind your jaw. “So, what do you want me to do? I’m just supposed to tell him to go away?! C’mon, that’s just heartless, don’t cha think?” “No, Dean, at this point I think it’s to be expected. He’s abusing your hospitality, Dean! Is he even looking for employment?” You breathe heavily through your nose. “Yes, yes he is! It’s not his fault he only gets rejection letters!” Sam cackles. “Why are you still protecting him? Is there something going on Lisa should be aware of?” That’s going too far. Without another word you hang up and turn your phone off. The pure assumption…!
You haven’t turned your phone back on yet. You know it’s probably swarming with messages from Sam by now, but you don’t want to deal with that. More than that, you don’t want Castiel to notice. So when he enters the kitchen the following day, you smile at him, like always. He doesn’t really smile back like he usually does. Damn, perhaps your worry his showing. You’re hoping he won’t be worrying over this and just believes you spent a long night sexting Lisa. “I’m going to go to Sam’s this evening” you tell him, “is that okay?” He just hums slightly and bites into his toast. You look at him; again looking so small and petite. You want to yell at him, tell him to sit straight, stand with all his height. But you don’t know how to do that. You can’t think of a single reason of why he should sit straight other than the fact that he should.
You’re great, Cass, you think, I only wish I knew how to tell you that.
You just show up at Sam’s. You don’t even know if he’s home. You ring the bell, and he opens. For a moment, you both just stand there, none of you saying a word. Then you push past him and go inside. It’s not exactly warm out here in the wind. He doesn’t protest and just closes the door again. You shrug your jacket off and just stand there, neither of you wanting to start.
But Sam, being Sam, comes through: “I’m sorry, Dean. What I said, that… that was uncalled for.” You nod slightly, willing him to continue. “Dean, it’s just... I’m worried, okay? I know Castiel’s a good guy and all that, but he’s been living off of you for more than four months now, right? And yes, I know it can be hard to get a job. But you realise it can’t go on like this, right?” You sigh deeply and let your shoulders sag. Yes, you know. Sam was only worried. And you can’t deny that you haven’t wondered yourself. You know Castiel is trying. But Sam’s right, too: it can’t go on like this forever. Castiel needs a job, so he can help pay the bills. You don’t really mind him living with you, but money is really running tight at the moment. “Yeah”, you say finally, falling onto the couch. “I don’t know what to do, Sammy. He tries, he tries so fucking hard, how can I give him more grief?” Sam hands you a beer and sits next to you. “Let me help”, he says. “I can look over his resume. Often it’s the phrasing that helps. I mean, we could at least offer it to him.” You nod, and you don’t tell Sam that you already offered that, and that Castiel declined. Maybe he’ll allow Sam to look.
You end up staying the night. Sam’s couch is incredible uncomfortable, but it’s better than a random ditch on the road. You go straight to work from here and you hope Castiel is doing fine.
“Dean, I... I have a job”, he tells you the next day and his voice sounds weird, but you barely notice. You simply beam at him. “Cass, that’s amazing! I’m so happy for you; I know how hard it’s been.” You get up and hug him tightly; he even hugs you back. It feels faint, but you don’t really notice that at this point. “So, where you’re working at?” You ask him as you release him from your hug. “It’s at the museum”, he answers you swiftly and continues, “I’m the night-guard.” You beam again and clap a hearty hand on his shoulder. “That’s great, Cass! Um... not to be forward, but do you think you could... help me pay the bills?” You feel a bit uncomfortable asking this right away, but it’s been gnawing at you.
He smiles and says yes.
It’s like he knew you were struggling. You hope that’s not true.
You smile brightly at him, and if you hadn’t been so in your own head at this time, you might’ve noticed.
You write a message to Sam right after this. You feel so proud.
What a fool you are.
You can’t help it; but when you watch Castiel get ready, pride swells in your chest. You’re trying so hard not to look, but it just looks so good, seeing him get ready for his all-new job. “Have fun!” You shout a bit too loudly and he looks at you, startled. The smile on your face hurts your cheeks, but you can’t stop. He smiles gingerly at you, before he disappears through the door.
You sink back into the couch and take a deep breath. It feels so good, knowing the dry period is finally over. With the money from Castiel’s job, everything’s back to normal now. Even Sam was happy about the news. You giggle a bit. It seems Castiel is better now. Last night, you heard him watch certain... films, so to say. That’s good. That means Castiel is back on the right track. And maybe he’ll stop being so tiny now, and will stand up straight.
Time passes. And with that passing time, something feels off. You can tell that Castiel is straining himself to look at you. You frown and wonder why. And even more so, it feels like he’s retreating somewhere. He never talks about his work, not even when you try and prompt him. You wonder if he’s got trouble at work. But you don’t know if it’s any of your business. And somehow, you want to trust him enough that he’d come to you if he needed to.
And then he stops looking at you completely. You don’t what’s wrong, but you don’t want to ask Sam about it. “Talk to him”, he’d say. Yeah, Sherlock thanks very much for that useless piece of crap advice. He takes a lot of walks outside now and you think that’s good. Sunshine and fresh air always help, right? They have to, because you don’t know what to do.
There’s a bruise on his face. He says it happened at work, he fell asleep and accidentally hit his head on the counter. You simply nod, not believing him. You think that reaffirms your thoughts about him having trouble at work. “Okay”, you tell him. “Just be more careful next time, alright?” You wish he’d talk to you. You’re sure you could scare his bully away, if you only knew who that was. So you decide to take some behind-the-scene action. You could protect him, even without him asking. He would be happy about it later. He wasn’t alone anymore, now.
So, when he’s asleep, you call the museum. You just need a name, anything to go on. A man picks up and you mentally steel yourself. “Ah, hello. I’m calling because I had a question about one of your night guards. Castiel Novak? He started about three weeks ago, now.” The man asks you to hold a moment and seemingly types away at his computer. “Sir, there is no Castiel Novak employed with us currently.” You’re baffled. Why would Castiel lie to you? And where does he go when he goes to work? And more importantly, where does the money come from? “Oh. I’m sorry; I must have been mistaken, sorry.” The man tells you it’s no bother and you hang up.
Castiel lied to you.
But why?
He must have a job; where else would the money come from?
You know the answer, you’re sure you do, but you don’t want to.
Two days later, he has a fever. He didn’t seem sick before, so you’re even more worried. You want to take care of him, so you make him Mom’s Tomato-Rice-Soup. You help him eat it and whenever he warms up too much, you get some wet towels for him. Lisa wants to meet, as do your friends, but Castiel is a bit more important right now. You don’t want to leave him alone here. His temperature doesn’t lower and worry gnaws way at you.
The fever gets worse, and you take him to the hospital. Castiel tries to protest, in a meek, tiny voice. You hate it. You hate it so much. You tell him a firm no and you feel him cry into your shoulder. You’re not sure he notices that. His body is so hot to the touch.
Three days he spends at the hospital. There are cuts on his chest, and they’re inflamed. Why didn’t he say something? Who did that to him? Why didn’t he take better care of himself? You could’ve helped. The doctors talk to you; and they confirm what you’ve known all along. Damn it all, you didn’t need money that badly. It should never have come to this.
He’s asleep every time you sit at his bed. You know he’s faking it. “I know you’re awake, Castiel.” To his credit, he doesn’t even flinch. You don’t know what to do. What do you do in this situation? You want to ask Sam, but you can’t. This thing is so private and Castiel feels so tiny, so fragile – you’re afraid you’re going to break him.
You don’t speak to him on the way home. He sits next to you, pale to the light outside. He looks even tinier than usual, and oh god, how much you hate it. It should have never come to this, but now it’s too late. The deed is done, and you’re afraid your friend is forever damaged, without you being able to fix him in any way or matter.
“Castiel”, you say after the door closes. “Tell me.”
Such a small order, and even to your ears, it sounds impossible to obey. Slowly, he lifts his gaze and looks at you. He’s even smaller than the first time you’ve seen him. How will you ever get him to stand up? It’s seems such an impossible task. “I wanted to be good”, he says toneless.
It’s a hollow voice that comes out of him and you take his phone from him. You browse through his last messages and you want to find all these people and hurt them for hurting him. How dare they? How dare they? “You should’ve told me” you say and you try your hardest to keep the anger out of your voice. It’s not for him, it’s for them, But if he hears it, he’ll think it’s his fault. “I wanted to be good”, he says again.
“You’ve always been good”, you say and you hug him. You don’t know what to do.
“I love you”, he says and you hug him tighter.
He hugs you back, but it doesn’t feel like a beginning.
It’s not enough.
And you’re not sure if it ever could be.
Later, when you’re lying in your bed, you hear a soft thump. You’re sure, later; you only hear it because you haven’t been asleep yet. You should have been, it’s after three in the morning and you have to get to work tomorrow – but you were thinking about skipping, because you two really need to talk. You wonder if Castiel knocked something over or – god forbid – if he hurt himself. So you get up and pad over to his room – it is his room now, after all this time, no longer the guest-room – and you open the door without much preamble.
It’s your fault, isn’t it?
You didn’t even know you kept a rope somewhere. You didn’t see him take a chair. But you should have.
So it’s your fault, isn’t it?
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Imagine helping human!Castiel get ready for his first date.
Characters: Y/N, Castiel
Warnings: There is a teeny tiny insignificant crumb of a crumb of angst right in the beginning. Other than that, nothing aside from Cass being a cute little dork.
A/N: I honestly just searched the gif thingy for “Supernatural imagines,” picked a gif, and wrote this. I actually quite like it, but I’m not quite sure how well I wrote Castiel. At least I tried, that’s all that counts. If you have any suggestions for me, feel free to leave them in any way you see fit. (send an ask, a message, leave a comment, etc.)
If you would like to be tagged in any of my future works, please send me an ask!
How could it possibly take two grown men three and a half hours to go on a supply run?
Not only that, but they left me here for no good reason. There are only three people in the bunker, we don’t need that much stuff. However, both of my brothers, no matter how old, will always be children. They’re probably wrapped up in an argument over whether to get pie or carrots. While they argue about what to get, I’m stuck here reading a grossly wrong Greek vampire legend because believe it or not, if you stay somewhere long enough it is possible to read all the books five times through. After that, one really has no desire to read them again.
My mental conversation was cut short by the creaking of the bunker door opening and closing.
Awesome, finally, it took them long enough.
Then, I realized there was only one pair of footsteps. Maybe Dean made Sam bring in all the stuff.
Wouldn’t he have said something by now?
Out of caution, I placed my hand on the gun in my waistband while I stood to turn and greet the approaching footsteps.
“Castiel, what are you doing here?” I breathed, realizing I was in no immediate danger.
“Oh, Y/N, do you know where Sam and Dean are?”
He seemed nervous, wandering towards me while his eyes searched the place, presumably for Sam and Dean.
“Well yeah, they’re out on a supply run Cass, what do you need?”
“I, um… I need some advice, guy advice,” he informed me in his usual low, gravelly voice. He took a seat in the chair next to the one I was just in, so I sat back down.
“Oh, gross... sex advice?” I grimaced.
“Um no, dating advice,” he rasped, watching me carefully.
I sat up with wide eyes and let my jaw drop slightly, gasping softly.
“Cass, you have a date?! Who is she? What’s her name? Where did you meet her? Did she ask you or did you ask her? Is she a he? Oh wow, this is so exciting!!”
I was left grinning after spouting my bombardment, leaving Castiel overwhelmed and speechless. His eyes were wide with confusion and a hint of shock, but I was practically vibrating with so much excitement. Then it hit me, Castiel had only been human for a couple short months, this was new to him. I ran my fingers through my hair as my expression fell in embarrassment.
“Sorry buddy, I get so excited about stuff like this. Um… hey, I can help you though.”
Cass squinted and tilted his head at me, “you can?”
“Yes, of course, I can. Much better than the boys can, in fact. If you’re going out with a woman you should get dating advice from a woman, assuming you are going out with a woman... of course.”
I giggled nervously.
“Yes, she is a woman, Y/N,” he replied, smiling at me in amusement. Though I don’t know what was amusing about this.
“Okay, well I’m just saying, I can help you a lot better than both Winchester boys combined. I grew up with both and I’m a woman myself, so I’m your best bet.”
“Hm.. yes, that does make sense,” he thought for a moment.
“Okay, Y/N, you can help me prepare for my date,” he nodded, smiling again when I squealed with excitement. It’s not every day I get to teach a former angel and one of my best friends how to date.
“Okay, first things first, you need a new get up,” I said as I turned away from Dean’s closet and gestured to the worn hoodie and dirty khakis Cass was in.
“What’s wrong with my clothes?” he questioned me, looking down to inspect them.
“Nothing, don’t get me wrong, you look adorable. They’re just not really fit for a first date, y’know? You gotta make a good impression if you want to see her again. Rule number one, Castiel, dress to impress.”
I returned to digging carefully through the closet with a smile on my face.
“Cass?” I chirped while I continued wading through jacket after flannel.
“Yes, Y/N?”
“Tell me about this woman you’re going on a date with. Where are you taking her?”
“Well… I uh…. I’m not sure.”
“Okay, that’s completely okay. We will get it all sorted out later. Is she more of the fancy girly type or is she more casual, burgers and a movie type?”
“Well, uhm I met her in the park. She was sitting on a bench near a very big tree with a book in her hands and a dog laying quietly by her feet. She was very beautiful, then I remembered that Dean told me if I ever see a beautiful woman I'm supposed to ask her out and I could send him a message if I ever needed help, so I texted him. He instructed me to go over to her and engage her in conversation. Her voice..” and then silence fell.
I glanced at him but had to take a second look because the smile that was plastered on his face was so sincere and beautiful.
“Her voice was very pleasing to listen to, alluring,” he continued with the same smile plastered on his face for quite some time. He rambled about his mystery woman for a good 15 minutes, it was pretty damn cute.
“So, Cas,” I spoke after he had finished,”have you decided what kind of place you want to take her to?”
He was sitting on the edge of Dean’s bed at this point and I had mentally picked out an outfit for him to borrow, taking into consideration every type of date he could possibly pick.
I had at least 12 outfits picked, in case you were doubting my meticulousness.
“Well, I um… I’m not sure. What do you recommend, Y/N?”
“Well, there’s a nice place about 15 minutes from here and I have the perfect outfit for you! It’s not too fancy, but it not too ordinary.”
“That sounds perfect, thank you for doing this Y/N.”
“Of course, Cass! I have been waiting forever for this moment just so you know,” I squeaked while I handed him a pair of Dean’s nicest jeans and a Baby Blue button-up that seemed like a very strange thing to find in Dean’s closet. However, it went nicely with the green t-shirt Cass already had on, so I was content.
So, Castiel changed into the clothes while I worked on making the closet look neat and untouched again. I wasn’t quite sure how Dee would feel about me digging through his closet, but I figured it was his best friend and he probably would’ve done the same thing.
After he finished changing I fixed his hair up a little and we resided back to the library to wait and drink while I gave him some conversation tips.
“Just start with something simple, like, you said she likes books, right? And she has a dog, talk to her about that stuff.”
He nodded while he fidgeted nervously with the button-up.
“Hey,” I squeezed his shoulder gently,” don’t be nervous, you’ll be great.”
I smiled encouragingly and thrust a glass of whiskey into his hand.
I was slightly shocked when he downed all of it in two gulps like Dean does when he’s upset or nervous.
“Thank you, Y/N/N, really. You didn’t have to do this.”
“Of course I did! Castiel, I have been waiting for this opportunity since you became human.”
He smiled at me with a certain sincerity in his eyes.
“Now, you have a date in exactly an hour young man. Put your shoes on, brush your teeth, and go get that girl!”
He swallowed hard at my words, eyes slightly wider, but he still smiled a little.
I sighed and rolled my eyes.
“Okay, dude, not even one year ago you were a freakin’ angel of the lord, a warrior! You will be just fine, go,” I scolded and shoved him toward the hallway.
I sat with my feet elevated on the table sipping whiskey for what seemed like 20 minutes. Finally, I got up and made my way down the hall to the bathroom.
The door was open, the light was on, the faucet was running.
I rounded the corner and was immediately met with Castiel’s giant, innocent Blue eyes as he continued squirting toothpaste directly into his mouth. I just kind of stood in the door frame for a moment, staring at him.
“Um, Cass,” I smirked, leaning against the frame now with crossed arms, “what are you doing?”
I tried my hardest to suppress a giggle as he chewed the toothpaste. (How the hell do you chew toothpaste?)
“I am cleaning my teeth like you told me to,” he replied after spitting the toothpaste out.
At least he spat it out.
“Yeah, but usually people have a toothbrush to accompany their toothpaste,” I chuckled softly. “C’mere and open your mouth,” I motioned for him to come,”let me smell your breath.”
He was very confused by this, but he did as I told him to. Surprisingly, it was perfectly minty and nice smelling.
“Wow, okay, your breath smells fantastic.”
He just smiled a small, awkward smile.
“Okay,” I began ushering him back out, “it’s about that time, Cassie.”
My humored use of Crowley’s nickname did not appease him, but that’s okay, I enjoyed it. I walked him up to the bunker door, turned him towards me, and straightened his collar.
“You’re gonna do great, just be yourself and have fun! Any woman who doesn’t like you the way you are is crazy.”
I squeezed his shoulders reassuringly, kissed his cheek, and sent him off.
Our little Angel is growing up.
Tags: @assbutt-still-in-hell
#spn imagine#castiel#fan fiction#spn fanfic#spn fandom#reader insert#supernatural imagine#our little angel is growing up
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that’s what you get
Oh boy. Oh dear. Well, we have made it to Part 14 of this wild ride, and I have realized that I am in deep, boys. I figure, what’s some more suffering to temper the sweetness with? So, here, a fresh serving of angst and emotions with a side of...sushi?
Thanks to @bitchesofostwick and her Ellinor for providing 99% of the fluff content in this episode because, poor Cass and Liv, it’s not in the cards this time...as you can tell by my selection of titles being a very particular Paramour song.
Enjoy the somber pining, dears!
part 1 // part 2 // part 3 // part 4 // part 5 // part 6 // part 7 // part 8 // part 9 // part 10 // part 11 // part 12 // part 13
-- -- -- -- --
Fridays are pains. Three classes, work, among other things -- they always feel like the final, difficult hurdle before the weekend rolls around. It helps to run into Ellinor in the dorm bathroom to brush teeth and dance around in pajamas until they feel some semblance of happiness. Alas, when Olivia stumbles in her black satin pajamas and finds no one there standing like George Michael from Arrested Development with a toothbrush in her mouth, it’s rather odd.
She looks at her phone. No messages -- no “got back safe” specifically. Oh no, is this when she has to turn into the woman from Kill Bill because someone snatched her best friend in the dark of the night?
-- Hey!! You make it back??? Why aren’t you up?
Ellinor: I’m good! Don’t go bananas.
-- What?? What’s going on?
✓ Read 8:03am
She tosses the phone on the shelf below the row of mirrors and slips some Crest paste on her toothbrush. While she gets busy, Ellinor finally responds:
Ellinor: I got caught up at Cullen’s. Stayed the night instead of walked back. It was a long movie.
Bitch. Olivia nearly chokes on her spit and toothpaste build-up in her throat. No fucking way did she just get ‘caught up’ in a late movie. Ellinor was not a lingering sort of girl. She got in, got out, clean hands and all. Deliberate was her middle name.
-- OMG. YOU FOUND OUT HOW MANY LICKS IT TOOK TO GET TO THE CENTER OF HIS TOOTSIE POP DIDN’T YOU?!
Ellinor: I hate you
-- YOU DIIDDDDDD OH MY GOD
Ellinor: I DID NOT OKAY HE LET ME STAY OVER THAT IS ALL
Ellinor: goodbye, blocked
She does a little happy dance on her toes, her brush sticking out of her cheek. Finally! Now everything is getting good. Cullen will start coming around, and he won’t sulk so much. Ellinor will get some action -- some good, honest, emotionally fulfilled action -- and all will be well.
She finishes up with her preliminary morning hygiene and walks back into the hall. Her stomach tenses still as she remembers the flyer on her door, but to her pleasant surprise there’s nothing waiting for her – just her RA-crafted door decorations and a small collage of music lyrics made during a Hall social.
The day continues without a hitch, well, except for a rather hilarious texting conversation with the woman who said she would block her but hours earlier. Leaving class, she finds this hilarious string of texts for her to read:
Ellinor: omg he brought me coffee, but I already bought my own!! shit fuck what do I do
Ellinor: GOD IM SUCH A DUMBASS
Ellinor: it’s all good I did a lap around the first floor and chugged it. I’m good. This is fine.
Olivia smirks to herself walking down the stairs in her boot heels, and types back a kind response:
-- Man, you’re going to have a great time in the bathroom today aren’t you?
Ellinor: I plead the fifth.
She gets through all three classes and her work shift at the University Rec building teaching her midday barre classes. Amidst the many talents her parents groomed her for, dance was one of the very select few that stuck -- and fortunately for her, landed a good job once she got to college. The staff are all cool, with the exception of a few quirky, type A ballet divas.
A couple classes to teach, a shower in the locker rooms, and she’s out the door and back to her dorm. She doesn’t plan on seeing Ellinor when she stops in to get ready for her TA work session with Cassandra. She gets through flat ironing her hair to at least look semi-presentable, a fresh light face of makeup. For her outfit, she selects black yoga tights and a black bando with a see-through chiffon collared sleeveless shirt of the same color. No jewelry, no pomp. The last touch is slip-on sneakers.
By the time she’s putting her hair up in a ponytail, it’s 5:15pm. She’s been a bit eager to prepare for this. A thought occurs to her: it’s Friday evening. Dinner time. Why not do something kind of...nice? She jumps up and grabs her car keys, her backpack of work to do, phone, and wallet, throwing it all into her shoulder bag and heading out.
She drives to the nearest Safeway and picks up a couple plates of their pre-made deli sushi. When she’s at the checkout line she does that Mom thing and sets her bag on the counter to find her debit card. As she scrambles, though, she finds that there’s something missing from its contents that she had taken for granted was there. The flyer. No sign of it, as if it grew legs and escaped. Fuck.
The checkout staffer is looking at her like she’s gone rich girl bonkers, so she pulls out her plastic money and gets it over with. Where could it have gone? She gets in her car, and before she leaves the store parking lot, makes sure to cover her bases.
-- Hey, did you keep the flyer?
-- Ellinor: Nope. Gave it back.
She checks her time, and it’s 5:45. To her credit, Safeway is only a couple stoplights from campus. She might be a bit late, but not offensively so.
Henderson Hall is in fact to the left of quad. Trust issues blocked on that one. As she walks up the steps through the archway entrance, she can’t help but wonder if Cassandra is going to be there. She had not texted her all day, which, in their short time as friends was a custom. Cassandra was attentive to plans.
10E is on the ground floor, so it’s a matter of picking the right direction and following the wall signs down into a bundle of offices. Dimly lit in some spots (Friday night of course) but, one room bright as can be through the doorway facing her as she rounds the corner. She peaks in, leaning against the wall a bit where a sign says “TA Work Room.” It’s a somewhat large room, with two windows on the opposite wall and a small, brown love-seat down between them. On the right wall, shelves of books and small succulent plants.
Then, a desk with a desktop computer and a dark red vase on the corner full of...flowers? Cassandra, though. She’s there. And when it’s realized she is there, Olivia only has eyes for her.
“Hey…” she says, as if she has a secret to tell.
Cassandra looks up, having reclined back in her seat with her legs crossed, a paper in her lap that she had been reading. “Hey!” her eyes go bright and she straightens up. “I thought you got lost, or something. I was about to text you.”
“Nah,” Olivia giggles nervously. She steps into full view of the open doorway, bags in both hands. “I was just weighed down by precious cargo.”
Cassandra’s eyes bounce between both arms of stuff, but she lingers on the white Safeway bag. “Oh?”
“Yeah! I thought...well, I was just in town and I picked up some rations to sustain us as we survive the trenches.” She comes forward and sets her stuff down on a neighboring desk that is smaller and without a computer. She efficiently pulls out the four sushi plates and sets them in a line.
“I didn’t know if you liked sushi. If you don’t, I’ll happily eat it all.” She glances over at her with a cheerful smile, trying her best. But Cassandra looks uneasy for some reason. Going for broke on the charm, Olivia pivots on her dancer toes and tosses her some chopsticks -- another sudden throw that Cassandra catches successfully.
“So, take your pick. Spicy tuna, California roll, or Dragon roll…”
Cassandra grins politely, breaking the nervous facade. “Uh, Dragon, please.”
“Hm!” Olivia lifts a teasing brow, “Noted for future reference.” She grabs and hands her the plastic carton, the soy sauce bags sliding in the box as Cassandra takes it from her. Nothing. Just...manners.
“Thank you,” Cassandra says lastly, setting off the stack of midterms to the side. “You can use that desk, if you want. I can get you a chair from the lounge--”
“Oh, no, don’t worry, I got it,” Olivia shrugs. She’s busy arranging her stuff around, pulling out the folders of bibliographies she’ll have to sort through and pick apart like a demon. “You’re all settled in, anyways.”
“No, it’s fine, I insist.” Cassandra gets up, as if commanded like a SIMS character, and rushes out into the hall. Olivia freezes and watches her go, the light breeze she generates carrying through the fly-away strands of her hair. Geez, okay, fine. Revive chivalry single-handedly then. When she returns, it’s not with a folding chair or one of the generic sitting ones on campus, it’s a whole computer chair, complete with rolling wheels and comfortable arm rests. It looks almost better than the one she has, and as she sets it down without breaking a sweat, it makes Olivia’s temporary desk look puny almost.
“...Thanks,” Olivia mutters with a second smile. “I feel like I should have a seat belt come with it.”
Cassandra chuckles -- but it isn’t her chuckle. It’s an anxious one, the kind Olivia gives at everything. She can spot it in another person a mile away. But, as they both sit down, she doesn’t bother to ask why.
Eating the first bites of sushi, her eyes go from her paper stacks to Cassandra’s quiet eating face so much it almost makes her dizzy. “You tired?” she broaches, ripping open another soy sauce packet for her California roll.
Cassandra shakes her shoulder as she’s mid-bite. “Yeah, a bit. I had class, and my volunteer hours at the YMCA. You?” Shit, that’s right. She volunteers teaching sports and tutoring. Stop being perfect.
“Yeah. I taught dance today...classes...nothing out of the ordinary, though.”
Cassandra looks up, and her response is immediate. “Nothing? You sure?”
Olivia almost flinches from the sudden shift in focus, and she sits up. “...Yeah…”
“You are absolutely certain?”
Olivia’s brow goes low, and she sets her chopstick hand down on the table. “Is this where you tell me I’m in that movie 50 First Dates and you’ve been having me bring you sushi every day for years?”
Cassandra purses her lips and looks down, a hint of blush in her cheeks. She then keeps eating, like the conversation suddenly doesn’t matter. Olivia wants to damn-near pick a fight, if it means getting responses and energy out of her. Exam grading or not, she’s acting funny. There’s no subtle confidence, no consideration and insightful look in her.
A couple hours pass, and the sushi has long-been eaten and tossed back in the bag it all came in. Olivia has gotten her elbows in deep with grading, about 1/2 of the way done with bibliographies. They are understandably messy and riddled with errors, of which she outlines every single one with blue pen -- a more relaxing color than the quintessential red. Cassandra is hard at work too, as is her style. She’s returned to sitting back in her chair with her legs crossed, paper in one hand and pen in the other, which she is clicking with her thumb every minute or two. At times, Olivia feels eyes on her, but she keeps focused. If Cassandra wants to say something, she says it.
At almost 8:30pm Olivia’s phone dings, and she glances over. She sees Ellinor’s name, but before she can read the message, Cassandra speaks.
“Olivia, I…”
She perks up. “Yeah?”
Cassandra is locked on her, end of her pen held close to her mouth. It almost takes what little breath she has away, the smartness of her. Her dark blue, long-sleeve sweater french-tucked into her black jeans with a slim belt on. Her somewhat narrow but toned shoulders hunched up a bit against the chair. Her tucked chin, emphasizing her keen but slightly-softened stare.
“...W-What’s up?” she looks from side-to-side, like a trap door is about to go off.
“I…” Cassandra pulls the staples pages back in order on the paper she’s on and tosses it onto the table. “I was wondering if...you were planning on telling me anything. Anything important.”
“Uh...no.”
“See…” Cassandra clicks her pen a couple times, her hands going to her lap, “I disagree.”
“You disagree?” Olivia sits back in her chair, elbows going to her armrests. “What does that mean?”
“It means I think you do have something to tell me. Or rather, should.”
“You’re right.”
Cassandra blinks, her face one of ‘oh, it was that easy?’ but things are never that easy with Olivia. She should know better than most anyone.
“Yeah. I lied when I said I preferred twizzlers. Red vines are better. I just didn’t want to partake in the discourse.”
Cassandra lays her head back, her eyes going up to the ceiling as she huffs out her nose. “Ugh, good God, I mean the flyer. The Church flyer with the writing on it!”
Olivia drops her pen and rolls back from the desk. Her vision blurs for a minute as she looks to the ground. It’s her worst nightmare realized: now it’s going to be a thing, a thing she can’t just control all by herself.
“Oh. That flyer,” she mutters, pulling her knees into her lap as she rolls her chair around to face her. “H-how did you find out?”
Cassandra sighs, rubbing the side of her head. Giving into the talk, she sets her own pen down, and stands up to go to the door. She shuts it quietly, as if anyone would be lurking around the office at 8:30pm hoping to pick up on this sweet gossip. She comes back to her seat and leans forward onto her desk with her forearms.
“Cullen. Apparently, you had dropped it in the library when you ran into him. He found it on the floor after you had left. He thought you’d be planning on saying something anyways.”
Cullen. That Golden Retriever-looking, best-intentions-having, Sulky-dude-bro-when-he’s-hammered, nice-guy-who-tries, shagging-her-best-friend son of a--
“Right.” She chews down on the inside of her cheek and rubs the rim of her mouth with her hands.
“I waited...for you to tell me on your own. I didn’t want it to be like this, but you seem to have had no plan to tell me even though it clearly has something to do wi--”
“With what, Cassandra?” she bites back, looking up and locking an acidic stare with her compassionate one. Silence. Awkward silence.
“...With me. I was going to say with me.” She goes sort of breathless at the end, but it’s too soft and fleeting for Olivia to care.
“That’s bold of you to assume. You clearly don’t know anything about what I’ve been through when it comes to bullying on account of my explicit behaviors.” She squirms a bit in her chair and holds her knees tighter against her chest.
“Whose fault is that? Agh,” Cassandra says bluntly while watching her, “you really should file a report. There are conduct rules for a reason, and this is at the very least sexual harassment. I looked it--”
“You looked it up?!” Olivia’s eyes go wide. “Jesus, why don’t you just file it for me then, since you seem to have it all figured out! Waiting for me to tell you, what the fuck, am I twelve or something?” She jumps up from her chair, no longer satisfied with being her equal. She goes for the couch, taking her phone with her as she lands on the corner cushion, tucking one leg under her.
“I was just--” Cassandra tries to respond before Olivia makes her move but is cut off. When Olivia sits, she resumes. “I was just trying to help. You shouldn’t have to fear going to your dorm at the end of the day or walking to classes.”
“Who says I fear any of those things?”
“So, you’re saying you are completely unmoved by this? That you see no problem with people calling you something so horrible?”
Olivia’s sharp mind goes into full debate mode. “There’s nothing wrong with being a slut, Cassandra, if it is someone’s choice to identify as such. The people who do shit like this prefer it to not be that way, so they can use it against people as an exertion of power.”
Cassandra’s eyes go a bit cold, but she remains partial to Olivia’s struggle. Clumsy, but partial. “Is...is that how you want to be treated, by a complete stranger just…invading your privacy? Olivia…” she then stands up and comes over to the couch, sitting a foot away from her. Her knees are parted broadly, but straight. Straight, straight, straight.
“What?” Olivia mumbles back, rubbing her face with her hands. “I’m not going to make this a big deal. Nothing’s happened since. It was probably just someone having a wild thought to do something horrible. That happens every day, right?”
Cassandra’s brows push together. “I’d really prefer if you told someone. For your safety.”
Olivia shakes her head. “My safety? You know what gets me about this? That you likely know who did this...or rub elbows with them. That you probably see them and talk to them in passing on Sunday and yet you think I should alert the authorities because I’m unsafe. What is that supposed to tell me of the company you keep?” She talks a big talk, but she doesn’t look at her. She keeps her gaze on her own lap, and lets the silence take hold. Then, out of nowhere, the confidence she is so tempted by returns in a cool, flat voice:
“Do you honestly think if I had any inkling as to who, I would just sit by and let you fend for yourself like I have no responsibility at all in this?” She’s outraged and foreboding in her temper. God only knows what she looked like when Cullen handed her the paper. Olivia only has the bravery to stare back at her and is humbled by the intensity. “I only hope that...that despite this...”
“What?” Olivia replies softly, but in vain. Cassandra merely sucks on her teeth.
“Do you...” she says after a pause, “regret coming to the Church to see me?” It is a subtly heartbreaking question coming from her.
Olivia rolls around and sits with her knees bunched up again like they were in her chair, with her lower back against the side of the love seat arm rest. “I don’t. Do you regret inviting me?
Cassandra doesn’t waste a moment, before she peers at her, chin raised. “Absolutely not.”
“I do have a regret about how I acted there, though.” Up against a proverbial wall.
Cassandra’s eyes narrow a bit uneven, her head tilted. “What? How so?”
“I...” Suddenly, an impulse bares down on her, and she scoots up onto her folded knees. In a push of inertia she resolves distance between them but stops, sitting at her side, knees against the side of her thigh.
Cassandra’s eyes go wide, but not too wide. Not surprised, but on notice. When Olivia gets that far with no objection she isn’t quite sure what to do. That’s the thing about impulses -- they didn’t come with a manual. But she wings it some more, and starts slowly leaning her face into hers. She reaches a hand and presses her palm gently against Cassandra’s cheek, guiding her to look at her head on as she closes in. She gets so close that when Cassandra’s lips part she can feel the edges of her warm breath. The brightness of the fluorescent office lighting goes dim and fades away, and Olivia’s heart is beating out of her chest. She wants that sign so bad, she wants something -- anything to give her vindication for wanting to hold onto her so closely despite all the writing on the wall telling her they’re mismatched. Cassandra’s lids flutter down, and she is frozen in place like a statue.
Then, a hand. A hand on Olivia’s shoulder, stopping her advance with care. Olivia opens her eyes fully, and looks into hers. Seeing the shade of them, she falls back onto her folded legs.
“Olivia, I...”
“You...you don’t...”
Cassandra’s mouth opens, and she frowns, taking her hand away. “It’s not... It’s...complicated. I can ex--”
“Complicated.”
“...Yes. But...look, I’m not that good with words. But I can explain. I just...I want...” She exhales with tension breaking her tone, her posture stiffening.
It’s no longer just Olivia’s worst nightmare realized. It’s her worst nightmare, having a worst nightmare.
“I...I gotta go.” If she doesn’t get out of that room in a minute she’s going to crawl out of her skin. She slides herself off the couch and walks back to her work, getting to it fast with the clean-up. She tries her best not to care what Cassandra does in the meantime. If she can get out fast, it won’t sink in under her skin, like everything else Her looks, her grin, the smell of Old Spice Wolfthorn she swears is there but can’t ever bring herself to decide.
“Wait.” She glances, and sees that Cassandra stood up, but hasn’t moved from her spot otherwise.
“No. I said I couldn’t stay long. I really...I should have left a bit earlier. I have a thing…”
“You...are you--”
“Yeah, I’m sure,” she shoves folders into her bag, zipping everything up with rigor. She slings the backpack on her shoulder and takes her other into her hand, grabbing for the Safeway plastic to dump out on the way. She turns around and stops, her mouth open, but no words. Cassandra has drawn closer, standing only a couple feet away now.
“Liv, I’m sorry.” Liv. She hardly ever uses her nickname. It’s always a polite, slightly formal ‘Olivia,’ even though she has made it clear time and time again ‘Liv’ is perfectly alright. Only now does she use it, and it hurts a bit. She really cares.
Olivia grins crookedly, and it pains her to do so. “No, it’s...it’s fine. I’m not mad.”
Cassandra’s expression says stop lying to me, please, but her mouth says the opposite. It gnaws at her heart. “Do...do you want me to walk you back?”
“I’ll be alright. It’s only a few minutes’ walk. Look, maybe we should, you know, take a breather. From hanging out, I mean. Just for a while. I feel like...like it’s just...” like I don’t know what you want from me.
Cassandra’s eyes narrow, in that sad kind of creasing way, and she frowns. That frown. “No, I understand. It is a busy time of the semester for me, anyway. I won’t be available much, and I don’t think you’ll be, either. Maybe, given what’s happened, it would be best for you.”
“...Yeah.” Olivia could have a whole ledger of things that people had said were ‘best for her’ over the course of her short life. But when Cassandra says it, all she can think is that being distanced from her felt like the antithesis of ‘best.’
There could be more words, but there aren’t. Cassandra nods, her hands together in front of her waist. She’s pressing on the skin above her thumb, on the side of her palm. She does that other times, and Olivia’s seen it. But only now does she see it’s a thing she does when things aren’t going well. She smiles and says thanks and heads out. The whole way her feet feel like bricks are tethered Even when she gets into her dorm, messes with keys and gets herself into her room. Turn back, go back, do it.
After dumping everything on the floor, she takes off her shirt and wipes off her makeup, before jumping on her bed to lay flat on her back. A few minutes of anxious staring up at the popcorn ceiling, and the demand to go back calms down.
Like an old, thoughtless habit already built in her psyche, she checks her phone for a ‘hope you got back safe, have a good night’ kind of message, but there’s nothing. Ironically, she wishes there is. The last messages on their thread are about the song recommendation. Fine, fuck, what could it hurt? What’s it gonna be, something about life lessons?
She pulls up her Spotify and finds her headphones -- a habit that’s foolish since she’s in her room all alone, but after the argument she instinctively clings to privacy. The song starts out with a slight upbeat rhythm, completely benign-sounding. But, then...she really listens, and the chorus hits --
If you're gonna let me down, let me down gently
Don't pretend that you don't want me
Our love ain't water under the bridge...
Nearing the end of the song she had preemptively mocked in her thoughts, her emotions she had done such a great job of suppressing are bursting at the seams. She goes from sprawled to curled in the fetal position in a matter of minutes. It wasn’t a clean escape.
But they are friends. It’s cut and dry. She should have seen this all coming. Girls like Cassandra and girls like her don’t do well together. Nothing about them says “promising,” just…just…
Knock, knock, knock.
“Olivia! You in? How was it?!”
It’s Ellinor. For some reason it only breaks Olivia’s heart more. She drags herself up off her blankets and to the door. Opening it and seeing her friend, in jeans and an old t-shirt, beautifully hardcore as ever, she sees that for all that Ellinor has to glow about, she, herself cannot relate.
“There you are! I want details, woman! And--”
Olivia can’t hold it back any longer. She bursts into tears, holding her phone to her mouth. Her headphones are still in, but the music has stopped playing.
“Shit, what happened?!” Ellinor’s face drops, and she holds her arms out. Olivia only shakes her head and steps into her embrace, pressing her head into her shoulder. Ellinor grabs her phone from her and checks the screen.
“I’m gonna kill her if she--Oh dear God, Adele?! Olivia, what have we discussed about listening to Adele so close to our cycles?!” she says as she holds her.
Olivia cries harder, her voice shrill but muffled into her shirt.”I-I fucked u-up...”
“Okay! Okay,” Ellinor responds quickly, “uh, okay, let’s...let’s finish that ice cream you have, alright?”
#adventures of ellinor and olivia#college au#modern thedas au#ellinor trevelyan#cullen rutherford#cassandra pentaghast#olivia sinclair#modern!olivia#friendship fic!
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