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fruitcoops · 4 years ago

Note

So my finger is actually broken and it made me think about the series where Remus took a stick to the face and Sirius took care of him if you’re willing to do another part to that so I can live vicariously that’d be great

Hey lovely! I’m so sorry for the massive delay on this fic--hopefully, your finger feels better soon <3 Coops and O’Knutzy credit goes to @lumosinlove!

This fic also includes Cap and Logan being brothers, O’Knutzy fluff, and my personal favorite ask of all time:

Anon: We have seen protective Leo in action and he is an absolute badass, but what about the other 2/3 of O’Knutzy. Because gods know they would all protect their fairy gay mother if anyone were to mess with him in the slightest

TW for bruising, swelling, injury

Read the rest of the series here!

“Where is he?” Leo demanded as soon as the door opened. His mother would have been appalled by his lack of manners, but he was too worried to bother with pleasantries. “Is he alright?”

Sirius raised his eyebrows. “Hello to you, too, Knut. Harzy, Lo, how’s it going?”

“Depends,” Finn said. “How’s our favorite rookie doing?”

Logan took a more direct approach and kicked Sirius lightly on the shin. “Move, I want to see my future beau-frère.”

“Are they here?” a rough voice called from the living room.

“Don’t get up, Loops!” Leo shouted down the hall, making a beeline for the kitchen. “Are you feeling okay?”

There was a muffled curse from the other room, followed by footsteps; Leo scowled. “I’m not made of glass,” Remus huffed as he shuffled into the room with an ice pack in his hand.

All three of them hissed in sympathy and Leo felt phantom pain in his nose at the wide bruise across Remus’ cheekbones. “You should go lay down again, dude.”

“You made me soup?”

“You can only have it if you promise to rest.”

“I don’t have a concussion.”

“Your face looks like someone biked over it.”

“Rude. I’ll call your mother.”

“You don’t have her number.”

Remus shot him a look and turned to the others, who were watching in clear amusement. “Tremzy, a hand?”

“Can’t tell you. I want soup.” Logan ruffled his hair as he walked past; Remus batted him away, but he was smiling. It was even more crooked than usual with the latent swelling, and Leo felt a pang in his chest when he noticed the missing dimples. He looked so…not Loops. “Où sont les casseroles?”

Finn frowned and glanced in the Tupperware. “That’s not casserole, Lo.”

Sirius reached up and pulled a large pot down from the cupboard. “Pots, Harz. You’ve been dating these two for almost a year and you still don’t know French?”

Finn hopped up on the counter. “Keeps things interesting.”

Leo blew him a kiss and received a wink in return, making them both laugh. “Thanks again for bringing this over,” Remus said as Leo turned the stove on and grabbed a wooden spoon.

“Anything for the rookie, right? You look better than last night.”

“Yeah?” Hope lit in Remus’ less-swollen eye; he was still bruised to hell and back, but the puffiness had gone own significantly and a good night’s sleep seemed to have done him good.

“No thanks to the captain,” Finn snorted, swinging his legs until Sirius whacked him on the thigh with a spoon. “I swear to god he was just fucking with us in the groupchat.”

Remus raised his eyebrows. “What did you do?”

“I told the truth!” Sirius protested. “I don’t know why they’re all pissy.”

“You were so vague,” Logan groaned. He pulled his phone out of his back pocket and scrolled through the texts, then cleared his throat. “Home safe. Re is fine—"

“Get over here—”

“—getting lots of cuddles from Hattie,” Logan continued, ducking out of Sirius’ reach as he read aloud. Leo stepped closer to the stove to let them both run past. “Thanks for the messages. Thanks for the messages? Thanks for the fucking messages?”

“That was pretty vague,” Remus agreed, hiding a smile behind his hand when Sirius finally snatched Logan’s phone away.

“I’m keeping this,” he threatened. “And I sent messages to people who reached out individually with questions, including your boyfriend.”

“Which one?” Logan asked with a smirk.

Sirius shook his head. “Knutty, will you be offended if I kick him out of the house?”

“Eh.” Leo shrugged, still stirring. “He could use some fresh air. Maybe put a bowl of water out with him.”

Logan grabbed a towel and rolled it up, snapping it at Leo’s ass; it connected with a sharp smack and he dodged the second attack by less than an inch. “Hey, cut it out!” Remus laughed. “He’s making me soup!”

“Yeah, Lo, we don’t want to leave the invalid in the hands of Cap’s cooking,” Finn drawled.

Sirius heaved a sigh. “You are all so mean to me.”

“I love you!” Remus said, putting a hand over his heart in mock-offense.

“You don’t trust my cooking either.”

He hesitated for half a second and Sirius spread his hands. “I trust most of your cooking. And all of your baking.”

Leo perked up. “Will you make cookies for us?”

“No.”

“Come on,” he wheedled as bubbles began forming around the edges of the soup. “You know you want to.”

“He made some for the block party two weeks ago,” Remus said with a grin, leaning over to smell the thick steam. “I’m domesticating him.”

“He’s like a feral cat. Once you let him in and feed him, he starts making cookies and never leaves.” Logan slotted himself between Finn’s knees for a cuddle with a devious glance at Sirius.

“I regret knowing you,” Sirius muttered; the slight twitch at the corner of his mouth gave him away, and Leo smiled to himself as he pulled a few bowls out of the nearest cabinet. “Soup’s ready?”

“Soup’s ready. Where are we eating?”

“Well, Loops is eating on the couch so he can rest,” Logan said, ignoring Remus’ eye roll.

“I’m fine.” All four of them gave him a skeptical look and he threw his hands in the air in exasperation. “Alright, we’ll eat in the living room and pretend I’m on my deathbed. Jesus Christ.”

Leo gave him a playful nudge as he handed him a bowl. “That’s what friends do, right?”

Remus’ face softened and he bumped him back. “This was really sweet of you, Knutty.”

“What was I supposed to do, leave you here alone with only your fiancé and your dog for company?” He looked behind the kitchen island and paused. “Speaking of, where’s my baby?”

“I’ll get her.” Sirius wandered out of the room and they heard the back door open a moment later; after a few seconds of muffled noise, Hattie came barreling into the room in all her long-legged glory. One side of her fur was mussed into bedhead, but Finn dropped down and immediately smoothed it out again as he smothered her with affection.

“Oh, was somebody taking a nap on the deck?” Remus cooed, grabbing a handful of spoons from a drawer.

“I missed you so much!” Finn said, laughing as she licked his face. “So much, precious girl! It’s been too long!”

Hattie wiggled out of his hold and galloped toward Leo—she tripped over her too-big paws and rolled to a stop at his feet with a lolling tongue. “Oh, my munchkin,” he groaned, lifting her into a cradle hold. “Do you think your dads would be sad if I took you home with me?”

“Yes,” Sirius and Remus chorused.

“But I made them soup!” He stuck his lower lip out in a pout and held her closer to his chest. “It’s only fair.”

Logan turned a pleading look on Sirius. “You can’t say no to that face, can you?”

“Someday, you can have a sleepover. For right now, we’re going to eat soup and then make Remus take a nap.”

Leo declined to mention the fact that he had not answered the question and filed that particular information away for later use. For all his bluster and grumbling, Sirius was a softie for puppy eyes of any sort.

They gathered in the living room and carefully balanced their bowls so nobody spilled on the carpet. Remus curled up to make space for Sirius on the couch, while Logan perched on the armrest of Leo’s chair and Finn took the floor; Hattie made the rounds with a roving nose and tried to steal bites wherever possible, to little avail.

“This is really good,” Sirius said after a few minutes of hungry silence, shoving another spoonful of broth in his mouth. “Mon dieu, what is this?”

“Italian wedding soup,” Leo said, breaking a meatball in half. “Mom’s recipe.”

Logan raised an eyebrow. “You’re not Italian.”

“Not even a little.”

“You guys are the best, by the way,” Remus said. “This is exactly what I needed.”

“We would’ve beat the rookie up if you asked,” Finn informed him with a casual bite of soup. “Say the word, it’s done.”

Remus shook his head. “It was an accident. He tripped, I came up too fast, and it snowballed from there. Kid’s lucky he didn’t get a skate to the face when we fell.”

Logan blinked at him for a second. “You’ve seen your face recently, right?”

“No, actually, it’s a bit difficult to see my own face,” Remus said drily. “I’m sure it looks worse than it feels.”

Sirius raised his eyebrows, but made no comment. Leo wasn’t sure whether he wanted to know that story or not; seeing Loops in any amount of pain was hard enough. “Kind of ironic, right?” he said instead. “After all that time spent fixing us, you’re the one we get to take care of.”

Remus snorted. “How the turntables. Hestia did all the heavy lifting.”

“That Tupperware was heavy.”

“Do you want to tape me back together next time?”

“Don’t try me, Loops, I’ll do it and give you a moustache.”

They bickered and teased for the next half hour, long after their bowls were empty and Hattie laid down with a dramatic huff after her unsuccessful quest. Finally, Remus dozed off on Sirius’ shoulder, which they took as their cue to leave.

“Thank you again, guys,” Sirius said as they pulled their coats on. “This really meant a lot to both of us.”

“No problem,” Finn said with a shrug. “We were worried, and bringing over a little soup was easy.”

“It was good to talk to you both outside of practice,” Logan added, giving him a one-armed hug. “Keep us updated?”

“Bien sûr.”

“See you around, Capsicle.” Leo mock-saluted and Sirius laughed under his breath. “Take care of our rookie.”

“Will do, Knutty.”

Leo maneuvered his container around his seatbelt as Finn turned the car on, trying not to lose another lid down the crack between the console. “I’m glad we did that,” he said after a few seconds of comfortable silence.

“Me, too. Loops still looked pretty rough, though,” Logan said quietly.

The side of Finn’s mouth turned down a tick. “Next time we play the Ravens, that rookie is getting checked like he’s never been checked before.”

Leo’s back cracked as he stretched his arms over his head. “Oh, yeah, Kasey and I already have a plan. That kid is never even going to see the net.”

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jinx-jade · 4 years ago

Text

The feeling of home Part 3: Video calls

“Hey Cass, have you seen… “ Dick froze, stopping mid-sentence at the sight in front of him.

“Oh My God! Hi! You must be Cass’s girlfriend!” Dick exclaims in excitement, causing the girl on the other end of the video call to giggle.

“Hello, I’m Cass’s girlfriend,” she began. “Sorry but I don’t have any more time to chat today. Maybe we can do a group video call later?”

“I’m sure all of us would love that!” Dick claimed with a grin.

“Je t'enverrai un texto plus tard mon amour” (I'll text you later my love), Cass’s girlfriend informs her lover with a smile.

Cass gave a bright smile and wave in return, a slight blush noticeable on her cheeks.

The second the call disconnected Dick let out a squeal.

“You two are so cute!” A grin clear on his features.

‘What did you need’ Cass asked in sign language, her blush still visible.

“Oh ya. Have you seen my Escrima Sticks? We have to patrol a bit and I can’t seem to find them. Any of them actually, including my spares.” Dick informs her as they start walking towards the cave.

‘Tim hid them as revenge for replacing his coffee with decaf’ Cass signs to him.

“Ugh. Of course, he did!” Dick groans in exasperation. “Thanks for the help, Cass! Can’t wait till we can officially meet your girlfriend!”

________________________

“Hey Alfred, can we have some popcorn? Something tells me this is gonna be fairly entertaining.” Jason claims as he sits down on the couch. He would go make the popcorn himself, but he was still banned from the kitchen.

“Of course Master Jason. Would anyone else like some refreshments or snacks before the call starts?” Alfred questioned.

The Waynes proceed to tell Alfred what food and drinks they wanted. Those who weren’t banned from the kitchen followed Alfred to help. There were very few Waynes still allowed in the kitchen, only Cass and Damian haven’t been banned, yet.

Once Cass, Damian, and Alfred had been in the kitchen for a bit, preparing the snack, Alfred turned his attention to Cass.

“There’s no reason to be so nervous, Miss Cassandra. I’m sure everyone will like your girlfriend.” Alfred spoke before focusing on preparing the popcorn.

Cass let out a slight whine. It was a mix between frustration, nervousness, and excitement.

“Tch. If this person was able to catch your attention and make you a smiling mess like Grayson with Kori, then I’m positive the rest of us will like her.” Damian states before walking out of the kitchen with a tray of snacks. Cass followed him out of the kitchen with her tray of snacks, Alfred not too far behind.

“Everyone ready?” Dick asked when everyone was settled into their usual spots.

Everyone gave some form of ‘yes we are ready’ Cass started the call.

…Calling...

A click was heard as the call screen was replaced with a person.

“Hello! It’s lovely to meet you all. I’m Marinette, Cass’s girlfriend.” Marinette informs them with a sweet smile.

“It’s nice to meet you as well Marinette. I’m Bruce Wayne, Cassandra’s adoptive father. This is my eldest Richerd, although he prefers to be called Dick. This is my third eldest Jason, my second youngest Tim, and my youngest Damian.” Bruce introduces.

When they were still planning the call on a day all of them would be free, Cass asked Bruce to introduce them to her girlfriend for her. All of the Waynes agreed to let themselves be introduced by Bruce since it made sense due to him being their father.

Marinette seemed to scan the room before nodding to herself. The acton seemed to make Cass let out a held-back laugh, confusing the Waynes.

Tim looked back and forth between the couple.

“What’s so funny?” He asked after not being able to figure it out.

“Hmm? Oh. Sorry, I’m used to Cass’s way of communicating. Pretty much, I just lined up who was who based on Cass’s description of you.” Marinette explains to Tim.

“Gasp. You talk about us!” Jason exclaims turning towards Cass.

Cass just gave him an eye roll for his antics.

“All good things, I hope,” Bruce says with a chuckle.

Marinette raised a brow in Cass’s direction, causing Cass to react by folding both of her lips inward and making a zip motion. Marinette had a smirk growing on her face while Cass had a glare that was slowly becoming more intense.

“Of course, all good stories.” Marinette states with a grin as Cass facepalmed.

“Stories? What kind of stories?” Bruce asked, looking in his daughter’s direction.

“Very entertaining stories if you must know, but shouldn’t you already know what the stories are about since you’re the ones who lived them?” Marinette asks, a grin still settled on her features.

“Renard faisant le chaos” (Fox making chaos), Cass huffs under her breath, causing Marinette to laugh.

“Nous faisons tous les deux le chaos. Non?” (We both make chaos. No?), Marinette states with a sharp smile that promised chaos, but with soft loving eyes.

Cass simply huffed and turned her head away. After a few seconds of silence, the couple started laughing, Cass not bothering to hold it back this time.

The Waynes didn’t seem to understand what just happened, even the ones who spoke French were confused. However, they didn’t mind the confusion, it was very rare for them to see Cass this happy. The Waynes all came to a silent agreement that they all liked Cass’s girlfriend and would be doing these family video calls more often.

The call continued late into the night, a few of the Waynes excusing themselves to ��head to bed’.

After all, not all the bats could have the night off at the same time.

Tonight’s patrol consisted of Batman, Robin, and Red Hood since they had the easiest excuses to leave and go to bed.

Bruce had a meeting in the morning, Damian had school tomorrow, and Jason had a meeting with the W.E. security department. All of this was true, and technically Tim could have used the meeting excuse, but everyone knows Tim would never willingly go to sleep.

When Bruce, Jason, and Damian came back from patrol they were surprised with the rest of their family still being on the call.

Alfred made eye contact with them and shooed them off to bed.

“My Apologies, but I do believe we are now in the early morning hours. I believe everyone should at the very least, try and get some rest.” Alfred suggested.

Goodbyes and Goodnights were exchanged before the call ended.

While the Waynes moved towards their bedrooms, Alfred had a small smile playing on his lips.

‘The little guardian will surely be a good influence on them.’ Alfred thought before heading to bed himself.

#maribat #maribat march 2021 #marinette dupain cheng #the feeling of home

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annicaax · 3 years ago

Text

You're The Only one

Ikevamp Fanfic. by Me.

Lecomte X Reader.

Word count: 1167

Genre: Romance/Fluff

Rating: All

Written in MC/your POV. Just like in the game. Hope ya like.

----

I bring the specially made cinnamon pancakes to the dining table. Sebastian carries the other dishes and as we serve breakfast I'm surprised by how we have all started out without le Comte.

I know he's gone on a short trip out of Paris for a night. I know but still I imagine his smile, and grace and nearly forget that I'm pushing some dozen pancakes into Arthur's plate.

"Good gracious! Food, why, a great way to get a bloke to swoon, eh?"

I barely notice him smirk, stunned as he takes my hand lifting it up to his face.

Oh. I can pull my hand back. I'm sure that's what I'd have done but a larger hand envelops mine and pulls it away from Arthur's lips!!

This touch-- these fingers--- Comte!!

I turn my head and there's my beloved, the charismatic smile still in place, he's quite the imposing figure standing next to me.

“Arthur-- even if you must jest, you should learn not to wander anywhere near my lady. ma cherie is mine. Mine and mine alone…”

I blush. It's not everyday that he's this direct. My embarrassment comes in sync with a couple of wolf whistles.

"Way to go, hondje! Never thought the day would be here when I'd hear such sappy love declarations from comte, let alone witness his possessive streak,” Theo says with a huge grin

“I think it's cute,” says Vincent in an angelic tone.

Isaac stays embarrassed, biting into his apple. I'm glad these are the only ones near the table.

“Comte beat me to it,” Arthur now says with a dramatic sigh, letting Sebas destack his plate.He adds, with a pout, “I’m capable of eating more pancakes, though…”

“You're not getting any!” Theo narrows his eyes at Arthur, “also Sebas... Pass me the syrup. Though I’ve just witnessed a sickening sweet love act, I do need some syrup on my pancakes.”

Oh my! Theo never holds back, does he? And Sebas is something. His face is still stoic. But I do say there's a hint of a smile on his face. I know that. I can detect that after working alongside him for this long.

And ah, my cheeks warmup, noticing that le Comte is next to me and his hand is still resting on mine. I try to pull away, feeling Theo's and everyone's eyes on me. But le Comte tightens his hold on me.

With a swift tug, he pulls me to him. And my world shrinks and spins around me.

In the next instant we find ourselves in the garden.

Whoa! I can't believe he'd use his powers to get away from some healthy dose of teasing. Oh, well, I wanted to get away too...but how long can I run? How will I run? That’s our home… and those are our friends!

But I’m still happy! All of a sudden, I feel giddy, realizing that I'm with my beloved after so long.

“I can't believe... Was that shadow warping? When did you come? Also, that was my first time experiencing that, so it's awesome!”

I grin at Saint Germain, but he only looks away with a sigh.

“Ma Cherie, there's a lot I can do… a lot that you don’t know…”

I want to ask him to show me… show me everything he is, but he goes on to talk.

“I can't show you everything, but you saw something just now. This is my first time... in four hundred years... I can't believe I've turned into this… someone who's desperately hopelessly in love…”

I’m speechless. My heart beats wildly out of joy, but he is hell bent on giving me more and more happiness.

“But I believe I'm only like this because it's you, ma cherie... You're my only one.... even if it were to take a thousand more years, I'm sure this is how things are destined to be… you and me… together like this.”

What more can I say? I love, love my Comte.

I smile at him overcome with love. I barely stop myself from hugging him. I want to say something, anything, but words fail me, and he takes this opening, speaking again.

“So you better take responsibility for what you did, ma Cherie…”

The confident gentleman, the hedonistic vampire is back again. Saint Germain takes my hand, dips elegantly and goes down on one knee. He pulls out something from his pocket.

My heart thunders! Is this what I think it is… A… a proposal?

No. But instead what I see is a glittering watch made out of gold and pearls, with an attached charm bracelet. It's so beautiful.... I'm in awe.

This isn’t a ring. There’s time for that, but this gift is equally lovely. I do love when he pampers me. I smile and accept my gift, watching him put it on me.

“Thank you."

I whisper my thanks, looking him in the eye.

“Thanks again, but I'm very much capable of protecting myself…”

I remind him just in case, and he presses his lips to my knuckles.

“I know,” he smiles ruefully, golden eyes narrowing, glittering bangs of gold cascading down in his forehead. He looks gorgeous in the sunlight. “...but I couldn't stop. I'm a man who loves you, ma Cherie.”

This man, he knows how to make me go weak in the knees. I'm flattered but I also want to give him a taste of his own medicine.

“Mon Cher…” I lean down so I can whisper the words into his ear, “I'm a woman who loves you too…”

I kiss his forehead and emphasize my words. “Forever until eternity.”

Le Comte freezes.

“What brought this on…”

He murmurs, but I kiss his cheek before he can recover.

“What brought this on? Well, maybe the answer is love... I love you ... I missed you…”

This time I press a kiss to his lips

“Mmm--”

Still knelt before me, he makes a noise. He’s like a prince out of a fairytale! My only prince! Ah, and I know it's my time to get away. My cheeks heating up, I attempt to pull away. But my hand is still in his--

“I remember I have to water the flowers.”

I try to make my escape, but he tightens his hold on my hand.

Rising up to his feet, he pulls me so I fall against his chest.

“Think you can water the plants after you've tempted me, ma cherie?”

Comte... The mischievous glint in your eyes, oh my God, what have I gotten myself into...

I wonder this, and his lips touch mine. I close my eyes and I feel myself fade away-

Together... We shadow warp... To…

(Now it's your turn to imagine where Comte took you)

***

There. I'm a lazy ass writer but I've been writing fanfiction since I’m a kid, and I’ve already graduated. Lol. Wrote something after so long. I know it's a fluffy tidbit. I don't know if ya guys like it but as someone who's waiting for his English route (spoiler free) this is what came to my mind. I hope y'all liked it. Comments are welcome. Reblog And Heart it if you like. Thank you! I do hope to write more in future. If ya guys want it/like it.

#ikevamp fanfic #ikevamp saint germain #ikevamp #ikemen vampire #ikevamp saint germain fanfic #saint germain #saint germain x reader #fanfiction #ikemen series

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whataboutmyfries · 4 years ago

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Forever and always

I did it!!! After months of procrastinating, I finally finished writing the Proposal AU i had promised u guys! I’m so sorry if gets terrible towards the end, I do plan on proofreading it again sometime in the future.

I also want to that everyone on the SW discord server so so much for being absolute ANGELS and putting up with me picking their brains for so long.

For now, i would like to thank @lumosinlove for our beautiful boys and I hope you enjoy!!!

Logan didn’t have the faintest idea of how these things usually went. All he knew was that he was nervous as hell and sweating like a pig.

He’d never felt like this before. His hands were shaking as he flipped open the little velvet box for the hundredth time, making sure he still had both rings. They weren’t anything flashy, just two simple bands of silver with an engraving on the inside

The lion, le poisson, and the earthquake

He’d spent hours at the jeweller’s, only to settle on something so embarrassingly simple that he’d almost reconsidered a thousand times in the past 20 minutes.

No. He wanted this. He wanted this more than anything. And he wasn’t going to let his irrational fears get in the way today.

Logan sucked in a breath, his knee bouncing uncontrollably below the table, his fingers drumming on the table. He looked in the mirror one last time, running a hand through his hair and straightening his shirt before jumping off the chair to check on the food.

The first people he’d told were Dumo and Celeste. They were like parents to him and he’d wanted their advice— and blessings— before he actually did it. Naturally, Dumo had burst into tears and told him how proud he was and Celeste had given him a hug and asked if he needed any help.

So, that’s how Logan had ended up here, waiting in their apartment, trying his best to not pass out.

Celeste had helped him make most of the food, but he’d insisted on making the cake himself. He’d wanted something that he’d made by himself for them. It had occurred to him that they might say no, but he’d reasoned that if they said no, at least he’d have cake.

He smoothed out invisible wrinkles from his shirt, tugging at the rolled-up sleeves. Logan was finding it impossible to sit still, and he sighed in exasperation, yanking his phone out of his pocket to text Finn and Leo for the hundredth time—

Only to have the door open to reveal the both of them, trying to share a pair of earphones while simultaneously lugging in three shopping bags.

Logan’s shoulders eased just a little, his mouth twitching up at the corners as he watched his boys shenanigans.

Logan, oomph, done ogling? We could use a little help here.”

Logan grinned, walking over to Finn, prodding him in the side before taking a particularly heavy bag off his hands.

“Ah yes, my liege, I live to serve.”

He dropped a kiss onto Finn’s head, grabbing the bags from him, the easy banter easing some of the tension from his shoulders.

Leo huffed, setting down the heavy bags as he nudged the door closed with his foot.

“Someone’s been busy,” Leo grinned, cocking an eyebrow towards the table, groaning under the weight of the food

Logan’s pulse ratcheted, the apple he was holding slipping from his fingers. He ducked, catching it just in time.

“Oh—I, um...Yeah! I made us all dinner. Go get cleaned up. I’m hungry.”

Finn laughed, tapping Logan’s ass on his way to the bedroom.

“Quit your grumbling tremz, I’ll be right back.”

Logan rolled his eyes, shaking his head fondly at the retreating redhead. He was quickly distracted by Leo, shrugging off his coat while kissing Logan, his hands tangling in Leo’s hair.

Leo grinned, lifting Logan onto the kitchen counter, swallowing his choked gasp when Leo’s icy fingers slipped up his shirt.

Leo’s stomach grumbled viciously, and Logan pulled away, dropping chaste kisses onto Leo’s mouth in between fits of laughter.

“Nous allons obtenir un peu de nourriture dans toi mon amor”

Leo smiled, kissing Logan one last time before he toed off his shoes, putting them away neatly, immediately making a beeline for the food.

Logan’s eyes darted around the room, frantically checking everything for the umpteenth time, mentally checking things off.

“Mon Cheri? What’s up? You look a little pale.” Leo frowned, putting his hand on Logans forehead

“No fever, but you’re so sweaty. Are you alright?”

Logan grinned, shrugging it off as the summer heat, pulling away from Leo with a shaky excuse to set the table.

Holy shit that was close

Logan was almost positive he was going to have a heart attack. He was watching Finn and Leo having an animated conversation, Finn leaning over occasionally to kiss Leo, ruffling his hair fondly.

Leo was laughing at something Finn had said, his eyes crinkled at the corners and his nose all scrunched up, his laughter so bright it could light up the world, and Logan knew in that moment, that it was now or never.

Neither of his boys noticed when he slipped the little box out of his pockets, or even when he dropped to the floor in one feline motion.

Logan looked up at his beautiful boys, smiling and laughing in the firelight and cleared his throat, giving the velvet box in his hands a little squeeze.

Finn and Leo turned to look at him almost immediately, Finn’s hand slapping across his mouth when he saw the silver bands in Logan’s hands Leo’s laughter trailing off into a choked gasp when he finally saw the rings.

Logan’s mouth twitched up into a smile as green eyes met hazel and then blue.

“Finn, Leo, the both of you are the light in my life. You are the reason I get up everyday and the reason I am here at all. I never thought I’d get to have….this. I never thought there would be anyone who could love me as I am, rough edges and all, and I am so so lucky to have not one, but two of the most brilliant men in the world by my side. I love you both to pieces and I don’t know where I would be without you. You— you are my reason mes amours. And I— I’m not good with this….romantic stuff.” Logan paused, trailing off as he struggled to get his feelings across.

Leo had a hand across his throat, tears spilling down his cheeks as he gave Logan a watery smile, “you’re doing great, mon amour.”

Logan smiled, swallowing the lump in his throat. “But I just wanted to say that I love you. I love you more than I can say and there is nothing that will ever change that. I love you so much that it hurts sometimes, but that’s okay because what’s a little pain when I get to have you. Mes amours, you are the missing pieces I was look for. I love you and I will forever love you. Marry me?”

Logan realised the tears had slipped free, he was grinning even as the moisture slipped down his cheek.

Leo shot Finn a look, squeezing his hand under the table as he wiped away the tears. Finn beamed, leaning his head against Leo’s as they both looked to Logan as one.

“Yes! Yes yes YES!”

The three of them were sobbing as Logan slid the rings onto their fingers, kissing the back of their hands lovingly. They collapsed onto the floor next to him, pulling him in close.

This was home. This was love, this was joy, this was life. This was everything.

“Logan, mon amour as much as I love you, fuck you.”

Logan pulled away from the embrace, his mouth falling open as he gaped at Leo

“Excuse me, what?!”

Leo laughed, swiping at the tears on his cheek as he reached behind his head to undo the clasp on the chain he wore around his neck.

“I was going to propose to you.”

Logan shared a look with Finn as they dissolved into laughter, doubling over as they looked at the two rings swinging slightly on the necklace.

“You said those were your grandfather’s!”

Leo shrugged sheepishly. “Well it’s not like I could’ve just told you!”

Logan giggled, tackling Leo to the floor to press kisses onto every inch of skin he could reach.

Finn laughed, tugging Logan back to him to press a long, slow kiss to his mouth. Pulling away to see love and joy shining in those green eyes he loved.

Logan tipped his head to the side, dropping his head into Finn’s neck as he pressed soft kisses to the warm skin.

“Oh my god I love my life.” Leo groaned from where he sat under Logan, the latter’s thighs pressed around his waist.

Logan smiled into Finn’s neck, trailing kisses up the redhead’s jaw to his mouth even as he reached out a hand to Leo.

Finn groaned aloud when Logan’s mouth met his, his fingers digging into the small of his back as Leo sucked a bruise onto Logan’s neck.

Logan gasped, turning his head to meet Leo’s lips, kissing the blonde with a bruising intensity, his body trying to say everything his mouth couldn’t.

Finn grinned as he pulled away from where he had a left a bruise of his own next to Leo’s, grinning as bright as the sun when he kissed the tops of their heads.

“We’re getting Married!”

#lumosinlove #lumosinlove ocs #proposal au #oknutzy #logan x finn #logan tremblay #finn o'hara #Leo knut #leo x logan x finn #leo x finn #finn o hara #finn x leo #leo x logan #THE CUBS!

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captainenjolras · 4 years ago

Note

Prompt:

Chabouillet getting really protective of Javert when he and Valjean started dating. Like maybe interrogating Valjean and such

Also love your fics they're so darn cute

Aww, thank you! I’ve been waiting to write something involving Javert and Chabouillet’s relationship!

Valjean meeting Chabouillet would either go down great or like the dinner scene from Shrek 2

⚠️TW: mentions of abuse, drunkness and suic*de⚠️

Fight Fire With Fire

It’s not that he wasn’t happy for him, he was just…less than thrilled.

Chabouillet had known Javert for years; since the boy was fifteen. He had found him running in the streets. Since that day, he’d taken him under his wing; he was the one who had given him shelter from a less than terrible home life, the one who had suggested making him a guard at the age of 17, the one who always looked out for him no matter where he was stationed.

He was also the one who had to listen to the boy’s rants about Madeline.

Never had he seen Javert so…distracted. So ditzy. Usually, he was a stern and hard working man; but upon being in Madeline’s presence, he was an absolute dork. He was the one who watched as the young Inspector fumbled over files hours after the interactions; and after the truth was revealed about the Mayor, he was the one who allowed a very drunk, upset and tearful Javert sleep in his spare room.

Maybe that’s why he was so tense about this situation; the whole Madeline incident had felt like a punch to the gut for Javert. Sure, Chabouillet was disappointed as well, but what made him more conflicted was the younger’s emotional distress over the whole thing.

But the past was in the past, and all that mattered was the present. Right?

“Le patron!”

“Javert, mon garçon!”

The Inspector came bounding at Chabouillet, wrapping him in a tight hug. Well! This was new! Once they broke apart, the Chief laid his eyes upon the other man. Valjean.

The man had a shy smile on his face as the oldest of the three surveyed him. He was quite tall, very muscular, had a head of curly hair and neat facial hair, was dressed quite well…

“Hello, Monsieur Chabouillet,” greeted Valjean, hand extended as if to shake the oldest’s own. Chabouillet simply nodded instead.

“Monsieur Valjean.”

The eye contact they held was less than comfortable for both parties, although Javert didn’t seem to notice. He stood in between them both, teeth bared in a wide smile. The height and size difference of the couple was as if a cat had just dragged home a bear.

After what felt like an eternity of awkward silence for the older two, Chabouillet eventually spoke up.

“Well, come inside!”

Valjean followed gingerly behind Javert, who entered the house as if it was his own. Jean remembered that in a way, it was. The man had practically adopted the Inspector. Did that mean this was their equivalent to “meeting the parents?”

That was exactly what this was going to be, wasn’t it?

“Make yourselves at home,” spoke Chabouillet, acknowledging the coat rack by the door.

——————————————————————————

The entire night, Chabouillet studied Javert and Valjean’s interactions. The two acted like lovesick teenagers, although he did notice Valjean eyeing him mistrustfully. He returned the favor. At one point, Jean had wrapped his arm around Javert’s waist. That was Chabouillet’s breaking point.

“Javert,” he interrupted, “I’m very sorry to ask you this right now, but there’s a case file upstairs that I forgot to give to you yesterday! Would you mind just going over it?”

For once, Javert seemed annoyed at having to work. What on earth? However, he agreed and went up to the study room. Once he was a good distance away, Chabouillet turned to Valjean. He looked him up and down, lips pressed in a thin line.

“Nice to finally me-“

“Talk to me, Jean.”

Chabouillet beckoned Valjean to follow him to the dining room. Once they were seated, he spoke again.

“What are your intentions?”

“I’m sorry?”

“What are your…intentions…with Javert?”

Oh, he could tell so much jokes right now.

He chose not to.

“If I have the correct understanding, then my intentions are to make him happy.”

Once again, Chabouillet stared deep into his soul. Well, this was terrifying.

“What do you do for a living, Jean?”

“W-well my good friend owns a shop that I co-own.”

“…How often do you see Javert?”

“We live together, Monsieur.”

“Well what do you two do on your spare time?”

“All sorts of things; we go on walks, read together, garden, watch TV- stuff we did before we were together! We just…do it together now.”

“And what about dates?”

“I’m sorry?”

“Where do you take him on dates?”

“I mean, usually we prefer to stay home; but otherwise we go out for dinner or stargazing- we actually went to this planetarium last week with a huge star dome-“

“Do you listen to him?”

“…I’m not sure I quite understand that-“

“Do you listen to him; does he talk to you? About work? Problems? Feelings?”

“Oh! Yes, actually!”

“Yes to what?”

“Er, all of the above?”

Valjean laughed nervously, face redder than the table cloth he tapped at anxiously.

“…Back to my original question,” grumbled Chabouillet, sitting up straighter than he already was, “what are your intentions with Javert?”

“I-I thought I answered that-“

“Not in the way I wanted you to. What are your plans for the future involving your…relationship; is this some sort of fling? Just casual dating? Serious? What, what is it?”

“I mean, I’d say it’s pretty serious.”

“You’d say it’s pretty serious…do you plan on marrying him?”

At that, Valjean began to choke on nothing. His eyes went wide and jaw dropped.

“I-I’m sorry?”

“Do you plan on marrying him, boy.”

“…I don’t know how you want me to answer that-“

“The way you would if anyone else asked!”

“Yes!”

The moment he said those words, Jean slammed his hand over his mouth. Both men peaked out of the room, hoping that Javert wasn’t anywhere near. Thankfully, he wasn’t.

“Yes,” whispered Jean, eyes refusing to meet the Chiefs, “I…I do plan on marrying him…if he wants to, that is.”

“What is that supposed to mean? You’ve never spoken about marriage?!”

“No, no we have- it’s just- we’ll I haven’t quite asked him yet. You know…asked him.”

Oh? Oh. Oooh, ok. He understood now.

Well now he had more of a right to threaten him over screwing this up.

“…I don’t know you, Jean. How am I supposed to know that you’re the right match for Javert?”

“Excuse me?”

“I mean- I just met the real you, not Madeline. Do you have any clue how much that whole stunt upset Javert? He loved you. Not just- not admiration love, he loved you; and then you go and pull that- god, I was so mad! If I could’ve gone out and found you myself I would have- and don’t think I won’t do the same now if you ever hurt him!”

“I don’t know how much clearer I could have made it,” started the younger, eyebrows furrowed in frustration, “but I don’t plan on hurting him or letting anyone hurt else hurt him. I…understand you’re skeptic of me, but please…he means the world to me.”

“And how do I know you’re not lying to me? Was it you that saved him from his abusive household? Was it you who took him in, put a roof over his head and clothes on his back? Was it me or you who made him hysterical sob after lying about who they really were?”

“Was it you or me who risked their freedom to make sure he was safe,” growled Valjean, standing now. “Is it your shoulder or my shoulder that he cries into every time he’s had enough? Was it you that sobbed for days because maybe, just maybe, you loved him back to; but you could never tell him! Was it you or me that pulled him out of the damn Seine in the middle of the fucking night-“

“Enough!”

Chabouillet slammed his palm to the table. Valjean, who had just been fuming, was now sitting down again, fear in his eyes.

“Enough, please…I can’t- don’t bring that up.”

The older of the two quietly sunk back down to his seat, mind racing. Perhaps they both went to far.

“…How does he like his coffee?”

Oh…that’s not what Valjean was expecting.

“…With so much sugar it’s a little scary.”

At that, both of them couldn’t help but laugh a bit. Once it died down, Chabouillet looked over at him.

“When he found out you were in the city, he wasn’t very happy. I’ll admit, I thought he was overreacting a bit. Then…after the protests…I don’t know, something seemed to change. When I heard it was you that saved him, I nearly didn’t believe it.”

A tear had fallen down his cheek, but the Chief didn’t seem to care.

“…Thank you,” he started again, “for saving him. He’s…like a son to me.”

“…I can tell from the way you care about him…Please, Monsieur, I apologize if my behavior was a bit rash; my only intentions with Javert are to make him happy. I hope you’d let me.”

Chabouillet went to open his mouth, but just as he did, Javert strutted into the room.

“One of your leads has been dead for years, Le patron. Are you sure she was the person in suspect?”

He really had no clue of the entire conversation that just went down.

——————————————————————————

The rest of the night went smoothly; the three of them swapped stories and debates over dinner. Around 9:00, Javert suggested they should head home.

As they were leaving, Chabouillet pulled Valjean aside.

“Monsieur,” started the younger, “I’d like to thank you-“

“It’s- it’s quite alright…You have my permission. And…my blessing.”

It took a moment for Jean to register what he was saying, but once it did, he wrapped the man in a tight embrace.

“Oh, thank you! Thank you- I shouldn’t be hugging you, should I?”

He pulled away, the same anxious smile on his face that was there moments ago.

“It’s…alright. Maybe not- I’d prefer to see how things play out in the future.”

“Understandable.”

“Valjean?”

“Yes?”

“Thank you for making him happy…truly happy.”

“…Thank you for making him the man he is today.”

For once, they both shared a less than awkward smile.

“Treat him well.”

“I will.”

Valjean turned to leave, only for Chabouillet to turn him around once again.

“Just know, that if you ever, and I mean EVER, hurt him, I won’t hesitate to find you and make your life a living nightmare.”

“…There’s the Chabouillet I know. Don’t worry, that won’t be necessary.”

“It’s a warning.”

“That won’t need to be enforced.”

“Valjean-“

“I know, I know; you’re just making sure I understand. I do, believe me. I have absolutely no plan on hurting him, or letting anything hurt him for that matter.”

“…Good man. Go, he’s probably wondering where you are.”

“Probably- thank you for dinner, Monsieur.”

“Anytime. Farewell, Valjean.”

“Farewell, Monsieur.”

Chabouillet watched as Jean made his way to the car, kissing Javert on the cheek once he was inside. He made sure they drove off safely before closing the door and turning in for the night.

——————————————————————————

It was good to know that the Chief didn’t think him unfit for Javert, although that was the last thought he had at the moment. Looking down, Valjean couldn’t help but smile at the sleeping man he held in his arms. Javert wore one of Jean’s own t-shirts, and had his cheek smudged against the older’s chest. God, he was beautiful.

Jean glanced over at the ring he held in the hand that wasn’t cradling Javert’s back. Soon, he hoped.

Soon.

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jiejie-eonni-onee-sama · 4 years ago

Text

Speaking her language

For the charming @empress-writes 💙💛🧡💖

Hope you’ll like the story!

The South of France is a safer place for the Basterds, as they took a break after their last mission.

They were currently hidden in a remote cottage near the small village of Gassin. Its inhabitants were kind and helpful, which was a blessing for Aldo Raine and his men.

"No news from the superiors, Lieutenant?"

"Na yet, Donny. But ya can be sure that we're gonna heard about them, one way or another!"

"So, let's enjoy our free time!" happily exclaimed Hirschberg as he ate a piece of cake.

"Can you sometimes stop eating, you glutton?" admonished Andy.

"But Mrs. Dupin's pies are so delicious!"

As the others were gently chatting, Wicki was gazing at (Y/N) (L/N), the only woman in the group. He could not help but smile while looking at her as she read a book.

If you ask him, he would probably answer that everything she did was perfection. To sum up, he fell heels over head in love with the woman.

Of course, the other Basterds were aware of it and never missed an opportunity to tease him about his crush. Even Hugo loved taunting him!

Wilhelm's daydreaming was interrupted by Utivitch, who shyly asked:

"Hey, (Y/N)?"

"Yes, Smithson?" answered the woman with a gentle smile.

"What are you reading?"

"Oh, I was reading Les lettres de mon moulin by Alphonse Daudet. It is a French collection of short stories about Provence!"

"Okay... Wait, you understand French?"

She laughed.

"Uti, can you remind us what is my job here?"

"She is the translator, you dummy!" growled Hugo.

"Don't be so harsh, Stiglitz!" scolded Hicox.

"Indeed, I am the translator of the group."

"Of course!"

"By the way, how many languages do you speak?" inquired Omar.

A sly grin appeared on her face.

"What if we played a little game?"

"YES! A GAME!" happily screamed Andy, Michael, and Simon.

"Ouch! My ears!" grumbled Wicki.

"Okay, let's play! What are the rules, doll?" asked Donny.

"It's simple: I'll talk in a language to each of you in turn, and you have to guess how many languages I can speak!"

"Sounds good to me! Start whenever ya want, pretty!"

Suddenly, all the Basterds were quiet and waited for (Y/N).

While she was mentally choosing the first player, the other Basterds noticed the enamored gaze of Wicki towards the blonde woman. Time to play some trick on the suitor...

"I'm going to start with... Mr. Hicox!"

"I'm always ready, my dear!"

"Eres muy guapo. ¡Un verdadero caballero!" (You're very handsome. A real gentleman!)"

"Mmmmh... I would say that you speak Spanish!"

"Exactly!"

"And what did you say?"

"I told you that you were handsome, and you look like a real gentleman!"

The Basterds laughed and whistled.

"Well, milady, you're absolutely astonishing! Hearing you speaking Spanish is like listening to a nightingale!" answered the British spy with a seductive wink.

The young woman chuckled before asking:

"You sweet-talker! Alright! Who's next?"

"Why won't you ask Omar?" snickered Michael.

"Go to hell!" grunted the latter.

"Don't worry, Omar: it's only for fun. Are you ready?"

A charming smile came across Omar's face:

"Please, go ahead!"

"Okay... Nǐ hěn yǒnggǎn, wǒ hěn gāoxìng chéngwéi nǐ de péngyǒu!" (You're brave, and I'm happy to be your friend!)

Omar was puzzled.

"It does not sound like a European language..."

"You're right, it's not from Europe..."

"Mh, that's tricky... I don't know!"

"Give it a try!" she gently encouraged him.

The soldier scratched the back of his head:

"Er... Is it Japanese?"

"Sorry, but no. It was Chinese!"

"CHINESE? REALLY?" yelled Omar under the laughs of his comrades.

"Yes, indeed. I learned it when I was younger, thanks to my nanny who came from Shangai! And if you want a translation, it means that you're brave and I am happy to be your friend!"

"Alright... Well, thank you! It was beautiful! Especially when it comes from you!"

"You charmer!"

Wicki raised an eyebrow: he started to guess what his friends were doing, and he was not pleased...

"Fine, let's go back to the game, would you? The next one will be... Donny!"

"At your orders, baby doll!"

"Then, I start... Sei forte e affascinante! E amo il tuo sorriso!" (You're strong and charming! And I love your smile!)

"Ah, so easy! Italian!"

"Bravo! You're right!"

"And what did you mean?"

"I said Donny is strong and charming... and I love his smile!"

Donny put his large hands on his chest, faking to be enthralled.

"And she speaks Italian! Gosh, this woman is perfect!"

He blew her a kiss.

"Please, receive this proof of love from a Bostonian guy!"

Laughing at his antics, (Y/N) mimicked catching the kiss and holding it against her heart.

"Thank you, Donny!"

As for Wilhelm, he gets annoyed. He did not know if they were trying to woo her for real or if they were just pissing him off. In both cases, he hated them at the moment.

"Okay. For the next turn, I'll ask for... Lieutenant Raine!"

"Here I am, pretty woman!"

"Fine, let's go... 'ant qayid rayie qawiun washajae wajadhab jadana!" (You are an astounding leader. Sturdy, brave, and so attractive!)

"Uh, that's a tricky one! Sounds like the Cree language..."

"Unfortunately, Lieutenant, I don't speak Native American languages."

"Okay... So, is it Danish?"

"No."

"Hm... Perhaps Portuguese?"

"Wrong answer. It was Arabic!"

"WOAH!" exclaimed all the Basterds, impressed.

"God, you awe me! And what did you mean?"

"I was saying that you are an astounding leader and that you are sturdy, brave, and attractive!"

Aldo smirked and gave her his best seductive face.

"Girl, give me back my heart, would ya? You stole it since the first day!"

(Y/N) heartily laughed.

"Please, Lieutenant: you're a charmer!"

"Only for you, sweetheart!"

"Verräter!" (Betrayer!) gritted Wicki.

"Fine, let's go! I choose... Andy!"

"At your service, milady!"

"Okay, I start... Du är söt när du ler." (You're cute when you smile)

"Uh... Does this language exist?"

"Of course!"

"Okay, Kagan: use your brains... Ah, I know: Danish!"

"Almost..."

"Swedish?"

"Good answer!"

"Well done, Kagan!" laughed Archie.

"Thanks, sir... But I'm sure that if (Y/N) goes to Sweden, they would hate her!"

"Why?"

"Look at her smile: it's like the sun, the snow would melt in a blink!"

"Oh My God, Kagan! That was the corniest thing I've ever heard!" roared Michael as he clutched his sides.

"Well, I find it cute. Thank you, Andy!"

"You're welcome... By the way, what did you mean?"

"Oh, I said that you're cute when you smile!"

Kagan fiercely blushed.

"Thank you, Miss..."

"Pleasure is mine... Hey, Michael, do you want to try?"

"I never say no to a challenge, especially from a beautiful lady!"

"Let's see... Vy geniy i prekrasnyy chelovek." (You are a genius and a lovely man).

"Woah, Woah, Woah! What the hell is that language?"

"I assure you, this is a real language!"

"Uh... German?"

"NO!" answered Wicki and Stiglitz, offended.

"Calm down, guys! Okay, so if it's not German... It's Russian!"

"Bravo!" (Y/N) clapped happily.

"Wait a minute... If I did not miss the track, we know that you speak 6 languages! And I don't know why, but I think you know more!" said Utivitch.

"That's right! Okay, now, who wants to try?"

"I volunteer!" exclaimed Smithson.

"With pleasure! Let's see which language I use with you..." she wondered.

She got an idea and started to speak in a foreign language:

"Anata wa watashi ga imamade deatta naka de mottomo omoshirokute shinsetsuna hitodesu!" (You're the funniest and kindest man I ever met!)

"Ah, I got it! If it's not Chinese... It's Japanese!"

"Splendid!"

"Well done, chap!" laughed Simon as he applauded.

"Thanks, pal. And may I know the meaning of your sentence?"

"Of course! I said that you are the funniest and kindest man I ever met!"

"And they dare to say perfection does not exist! Obviously, they did not meet our lovely (Y/N)!" shouted Utivitch.

"Please, don't exaggerate!" blushed the young woman.

Wicki clenched his fists so tightly that his knuckles went white. He swore to God that they would pay for their antics.

"Okay, the next player would be... Simon!"

"Yes, ma'am! Always yours!"

"You trickster! Fine, try to guess this one... אני מאוד מעריך את החברה שלך." (I really appreciate your company)

"No... You speak Hebrew? The language of our people?"

"Indeed."

"But it sounds beautiful when it comes from you! Okay, you know what? After the war, I'll marry you!"

"Oh, Simon! Don't be so crazy!" she laughed.

"I'm already crazy in love with you!"

"And you say I am corny, Michael..." sneered Andy.

"Forget what I said!"

After she stopped laughing, (Y/N) declared:

"So, I think we had three players last. Well, let's the game begin with Hirschberg."

"Hooray! Here I am!"

"Alright! So, try to find this one... Jesteś uroczym żarłokiem." (You're an adorable glutton)

"Well, that's unusual! Er... I don't remember hearing this language before!"

"Give me suggestions!"

"It is a Slavic language?"

"Not at all."

Gerold sighed.

"Damn it, girl! It's a freakin' riddle!"

"Watch your language in front of a lady!" scolded Hicox.

"Don't worry, Archie: I've heard worse before!" said (Y/N) with a smug grin.

"Mh, I don't know... Is it Turkish?"

"Not at all, but I am currently studying this language!"

"Er... Nope, I don't know!"

"It's Polish!"

"My my, she is impressive!" chuckled Aldo as he took a bite of his bread.

"And what did you say?"

"I said that you are an adorable glutton!"

Hearing that, the other Basterds roared with laughter.

"AH AH AH AH! Well done, (Y/N)!" shrieked Utivitch.

"Hey, that's not fair!" yelped Hirschberg.

Upset that she would offend her friend, the woman apologized.

"I'm sorry if I hurt you, Gerold. I did not mean to..."

"It's alright, (Y/N). Likewise, I'll always forgive you!"

"Oh, why?"

"Because you are beautiful!" answered the soldier with a huge smile.

Relieved, she happily laughed while Wicki contained himself to punch someone's face.

"Okay, now, let's go on with Hugo!"

"I'm listening..."

"I'm sure you'll recognize this language... Du erinnerst mich an einen Wolf: einsam, mysteriös und faszinierend." (You remind me of a wolf: solitary, mysterious, and fascinating.)

"German, without hesitation!" smirked Stiglitz.

"Indeed!"

"And what did she say?" asked Donny.

Hugo stood up and walked towards her.

"She compared me to wolf. She said that I am solitary, mysterious, and fascinating..."

"(Y/N) got the point!" smiled Michael.

Stiglitz arrived near the woman and kneeled with deference.

"You won... I surrender to your beautiful voice! I could not resist you speaking my mother tongue with such delicacy!"

"Nice touch, Stiglitz!" exclaimed Archie.

"Oh, Hugo! You must be exaggerating: I'm pretty sure my accent was a disaster!"

"The only thing pretty is you, (Y/N)" grinned Hugo as he gently kissed the woman's hand... while he looked out of the corner of his eyes at Wilhelm with a roguish glance.

"Trottel!" (You jerk)!" gritted the latter through his teeth.

At the same moment, (Y/N) was amused by her friends' antics: they always treated her like a queen and were very respectful towards her. But this time, she felt that there was something else, like if they were playing a prank on someone...

"You guys are all amazing! But let's finish this game with the last player: Wilhelm!"

Hearing his name, Wicki snapped out of his anger and said:

"Yes, I'm ready!"

"Okay so, let's see if you will be able to find this one... Mon cher Wilhelm, tu es un homme courageux, loyal, et séduisant." (My dear Wilhelm, you are a courageous, loyal, and attractive man.)

The Austrian Jewish man smirked:

"Without any doubt, I would say... French!"

"Precisely! You had a good ear!"

"And what did you say to Wilhelm? I'm curious..." asked Hirschberg with a playful tone.

(Y/N) slightly flushed before answering:

"I told him that he was a brave, loyal, and attractive man!"

"How cute!" laughed Aldo.

As for Wilhelm, he was struck: definitely, he was in love! With a smug smile, he said:

"Merci beaucoup pour le compliment, jolie mademoiselle!" (Thank you very much for the compliment, lovely miss!)

(Y/N) was impressed by his hidden talent.

"Oh, what a surprise! I did not know you speak French!"

"I know a few... but I'm sure I would not reach your level!"

"Don't underestimate yourself!"

"Heck, she could give some “private” lessons, if you want!" smirked Andy while wiggling his eyebrows.

"Keep your dirty thoughts for you!" snarled Wicki.

"Okay guys, calm down! Now that everyone answered (Y/N), did anyone count how many languages she can speak?" asked Archie.

"I did sir! And she speaks in 11 languages!" replied Utivitch.

"11 LANGUAGES?" shouted the others.

"Indeed, you counted well, Smithson. But I also speak Portuguese, Dutch, and Slavic languages. And I'm currently learning Turkish, Hindi, Danish, Korean, and Finnish!"

"Girl, are ya planning to learn all the goddamn languages around the world?" asked Aldo, flabbergasted.

"Maybe... Seriously, I've always been interested in languages since I was a little girl and I never stopped my passion! Luckily for me, I was gifted with a good memory..."

"We noticed it." shrugged Hugo.

"Man, we're lucky to have her with us!" stated Hirschberg.

"Well spotted, private!"

They enjoyed the afternoon, when (Y/N) had to go to the village for some groceries.

Once she left, Wicki turned his angered glare towards his comrades.

"May I know WHAT THE FUCK were you all doing earlier? Wooing her as if you did not know what I felt?"

"Don't be mad, Wicki: we just wanted to make a joke!" said Utivitch who tried to calm his friend.

"I did not find it very funny!" growled the Austrian.

"Don't be so ill-humored! We'll never steal her from you. Of course, we all love her, but she is like a sister or a best friend to many of us!" retorted Kagan.

"Damn right, Kagan. But Wil, ya better tell (Y/N) what ya feel for her! Stop tripping and man up!" ordered Aldo.

"And how I'm supposed to do that?"

"Use your brains, Wicki, and take a guess: why don't you use something she likes to declare your love?" muttered Hugo as he smoked his cigarette.

"Something she likes..." mumbled Wilhelm as he lost himself in his thoughts.

Suddenly, an idea popped up in his mind, and he slightly grinned: maybe he can try something interesting.

He got up and searched in his bag a book his mother gave him before his departure. Wilhelm felt that the answer to his issue was between the pages of this poetry collection...

Later in the evening...

The cool summer night was calm and appeasing for the Basterds as they were finishing the meals brought by their French accomplices.

At the same time, (Y/N) went for a small walk through the forest. She enjoyed the peaceful surrounding of the woods and sat on a tree stump to gaze at the shining stars who enlightened the dark blue sky.

The young woman slightly shivered as she felt the gentle breeze caress her bare arms.

"Can I join you?" asked a familiar masculine voice.

Startled, she turned and was relieved to see Wilhelm.

"Oh, it's you! You scare me!"

"I'm sorry!"

"It's fine... You can sit with me!"

Thanking her, the soldier sat close to the young woman.

He felt a knot in his stomach as he was nervous: God, this girl would be the death of him!

He straightened up himself and declared:

"It's a nice night!"

"Indeed: I've always appreciated summer nights. I don't why, but it always soothes me... And it reminds me of this beautiful painting entitled Starry Night."

"Made by Van Gogh in 1888, if I'm right?"

"Exactly. It was a representation of a starry sky in Provence... where we are!"

"Interesting, I did not know this part of the story..." smiled Wicki.

He leaned closer and said:

"You know, this landscape reminds me of a poem..."

"Really?"

"Would you like to listen?"

"I would enjoy it!" (Y/N) smiled.

Wilhelm cleared his throat and declaimed:

Es liegt der heiße Sommer (There lies the heat of summer)

Auf deinen Wängelein; (On your cheek’s lovely art:)

Es liegt der Winter, der kalte, (There lies the cold of winter)

In deinem Herzchen klein. (Within your little heart.)

Das wird sich bei dir ändern, (That will change, beloved,)

Du Vielgeliebte mein! (The end not as the start!)

Der Winter wird auf den Wangen, (Winter on your cheek then,)

Der Sommer im Herzen sein. (Summer in your heart.)

When he finished reciting the poem, he saw a beautiful smile across (Y/N)'s face.

"Wilhelm, it was amazing!"

"Danke. Maybe you know the author..."

"I think it's Heinrich Heine!"

"Exactly! It’s the poem titled There lies the heat of summer."

"He wrote such beautiful masterpieces about love."

She shrugged with a sly smile.

"I'm a helpless romantic!"

"Don't apologize: it's one of your qualities!"

He added with a slight blush on his face.

"Besides, this poem has a special meaning for me..."

"Honestly? Why?"

"Yes. Well, when I was younger, I told my mother that I would say this poem to the girl I want to spend my life with..."

"Oh, that's so charming..."

(Y/N) interrupted herself when she realized what happened.

"Wait a minute... Did you mean that..."

Wicki nodded.

"You've guessed right: I love you, (Y/N). Since the first day in our team, I knew you were meant to me. But I was a coward for a long time and I did not know how to tell you the truth... until tonight!"

There was a silence until the young woman let out a relieved sigh:

"Thank God, what a relief!"

"What do you mean?"

She fidgeted with her fingers, slightly embarrassed.

"You know, Wilhelm... You were not the only one who was shy about their feelings!"

"You mean... that it's reciprocated?"

She agreed with a slight nod and a timid smile.

Assuaged by this revelation, Wicki leaned closer to her face, letting a few inches between their lips.

"Ich liebe dich, (Y/N)..."

"I love you too, Wilhelm..."

And they gently kissed, their lips sealed in a tender moment...

Meantime, the other Basterds were spying on them, delighted smiles on their faces.

"Finally! He said it!" smirked Aldo.

"Look how cute they are!" grinned Utivitch.

"Indeed, they are. But remember guys: if you want to stay alive, don't cha flirt with her!" stated Donny.

"We took note, Don'. Should we celebrate this new couple?" asked Hirschberg.

"We'll do it when they'll come back to the camp. For now, let's them enjoy this moment alone!" tenderly smiled Andy.

"Gentlemen, we shall come back before they notice our presence. Moreover, we have a celebration to prepare!" simpered Hicox.

"The British's damn right! Let's go, boys!" discreetly cheered Michael.

"I'm so excited! It's like another Valentine's Day!" laughed Simon.

As they went back, Hugo looked back at the lovers with a small grin on his face.

"Well played, Wicki. You managed to speak her language, after all..."

Well, he was right: Wilhelm and (Y/N) found the perfect language between each other: the language of love...

Thank you for the reading!

I hope you’ll like it and I’m looking for your requests!

Take care and see you soon! 😘🥰😍🤩😷

#requests #inglourious basterds #wilhelm wicki #gedeon burkhard #rosamund pike

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dollyshaw · 3 years ago

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The Thing About Rain: An Adrienette Story (Part 1)

In which our heroes are introduced.

To say it rained that day would be an understatement.

From the moment Marinette Dupain-Cheng woke up, water poured from the sky, creating an unforgiving fog that prevented even the sharpest eyes from seeing so much as their hand in front of their face.

Marinette was no stranger to rain. It had never bothered her before, as many of her favorite memories came from the rain.

It was the rain that brought her the love of her life, though he may not know his status to her. It had hardly been seven years since Marinette stood outside her college waiting for the rain to subside, and in his innate kindness, supermodel and fellow-classmate, Adrien Agreste stopped to give Marinette his umbrella. He would go on to regard that encounter as a simple act of kindness to a friend. She would regard that moment as the moment she fell head-over heels in love with her classmate.

It was rain that set the scenes in many of her encounters with her best-friend and superhero partner, Chat Noir. She fondly remembered late night patrols with her leather-clad kitty, racing the rooftops of Paris as the rain wet her face. When she needed a happy memory, she thought back on how Chat Noir would vault from a balcony to a puddle claiming that he would make the bigger splash. The years may have passed and opponents may have become more fierce, but she and Chat Noir, no matter how old they'd become, would always have their rain patrols.

To say the least, Marinette enjoyed the rain.

This rain, however, felt different. Ominous, even. Marinette, though being the holder of the Miraculous known for luck, was never superstitious. This storm, for whatever reason, put her on edge.

"Something is strange, Marinette." her kwami, Tikki, called her out of her trance at her bedroom window.

"I feel it too, Tikki. Do you think I should transform? Go and find Chat?"

"I'm not sure that it's not just a feeling. You don't want to risk anything if you don't have to. Besides, if Chat is anything like his kwami, he's not even noticed that it's raining yet."

Marinette laughed at her tiny friend. Tikki was right, Chat did tend to be a little aloof.

"You're right, Tikki. Come on, we can't be late for our first day at House of Gabriel." Marinette concluded, making her way into her closet to get ready for internship with famous fashion designer (and father of the love of her life) Gabriel Agreste.

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

Adrien didn't mind the rain. He didn't particularly like it, but he never minded it. Most of the work he did was inside, so it never really interfered with his carefully calculated schedule.

He sighed as he ran over his schedule for the day in his head.

6 a.m.: Running (accompanied by Gorilla)

7 a.m.: Shower and Dress

8 a.m.: Breakfast with Father (which was usually subject to change seeing as his father was almost never seen in person anymore.)

9-11 a.m.: Photoshoot

12 p.m.: Lunch

1-3 p.m.: Photoshoot

4 p.m.: Fencing (he used to take lessons, but upon him turning 18, Monsieur D'Argencourt offered him a position as an assistant coach, much to his father's approval.)

5 p.m.: Dinner with Father (again, usually subject to change.)

6 p.m-9 p.m.: Free Time

It was roughly the same schedule as every single day from the past ten years of his life. There were few things that changed as he got older, such as the removal of school once he graduated and the addition of free time at night where he was permitted to socialize with friends, accompanied by the Gorilla, of course.

Much to Adrien's dismay, Gabriel made up his mind shortly into his last year of school that he would not need to attend University and that all the further education he needed to take over the company when Gabriel retired would be best taught by him and Nathalie.

Regardless, most nights when his father thought he was asleep, Adrien would call upon the tiny God of Destruction housed in the silver ring upon his finger. Clad in skin tight leather as black as night, he would pounce from his bedroom window across the roofs of Paris to meet with his Lady.

Oh, his Lady. What a Lady she was. The memories he shared with her were his favorite memories of the rain.

His most treasured memories were observed by the way the rain clung to her red and black spotted suit in droplets and the way it made her navy blue hair shine against the lights of Paris. He treasured the way her blue bell eyes would squint when she laughed at him as he pounced from puddle to puddle along the cobblestone streets. Her voice would ring out "Silly Kitty" with a giggle. He'd place a kiss to her gloved hand before they departed with a "M'lady" and then watch as she swung away through the sheets of rain.

Tonight, he decided, would be no different.

He carefully combed through his blonde hair as he listened to the hard beating of todays rain outside of his bedroom window.

"Mon Dieu, it's pouring les chats et les chiens out there!" his kwami snarked as he flew into the bathroom and took residence beside Adrien's hairbrush on the counter.

"I hope Marinette and Tik--- Marinette and her TOTALLY AWESOME SELF get to the office okay." Plagg commented.

"Marinette?" Adrien questioned, "What does Marinette have to do at the office?"

"You forgot didn't you?" Plagg retorted, unamused. Adrien felt a blush creep to his ears. "Personally, I would have thought the beginning of your so called 'best friends' apprenticeship at your father's studio would have been at the top of your reminders today."

"Of course! How could I forget?" Adrien lamented.

"I'm not sure she's only been talking about it for three months."

"Plagg, take a look at the schedule. Do you think if we leave now we'll have enough time to pick up a coffee and a croissant from the Bakery as a 'Welcome'?" Adrien asked as he knotted the laces on his loafers.

"You'd be cutting it close, but a certain feline I know would make it with time to spare." Plagg suggested with a sly and knowing smirk.

"Plagg," Adrien grinned, knowing all-too-well what Plagg was implying, "Claws Out!"

Then he lept out of the window into the downpour, racing to the nearest bakery to retrieve treats for his best friend on her first day of her dream job.

In his rush and excitement to find the perfect Croissant, Adrien didn't notice the figure standing at his bedroom door waiting to remind him of his commitment to Paris Fashion week in the next few days. He didn't notice the figure that watched his entire encounter with his tiny God and then his entire transformation. He didn't notice, and probably wouldn't have known if he did, that this figure was the same that had been transforming heartbroken and angry citizens of Paris to retrieve the same silver ring that he'd noticed on his son's finger so many years ago but never had any proof that it was what he was looking for. He didn't notice that his father, Gabriel Agreste, more villianously known as ShadowMoth, had seen him transform.

Maybe he should have paid a little more attention to the rain.

#adrienette #adrien agreste #marinette dupain cheng #marinette #marichat #miraculous fanfic #ladybug #chat noir

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theyanderespecialist · 4 years ago

Text

Sound Of The Devil~ 2 (One Shot) Cajun Accented Human Alastor X OC Marie (Yandere) (Hazbin Hotel)

[Hello here with part 2 which was written right after the first part was publish but we had to wait on publish this anyways I hope you all enjoy this and as we meant in the last we see alastor when yandere he may have more urges for his darling that will be explained in this enjoy!]

(Alastor's POV)

I looked at her and set the camera down. "Ya like that doncha cher~" I purr. "Well I am gonna make it happen again and ya will be singing ma name like ya are in the Choir~"

I smirked as I kiss her as she was still catching her breath and coming back down as I turn around and take off my clothes, placing them neatly down beside hers as I turn around seeing her looking at me, this look of need as I immediately make my way over to her.

"It was only a moment cher~" I said as I was a little nervous I haven't done this before, I'd dreamed about it though. I kiss her as I line up when I felt a sudden weight on my shoulders as I look.. to see her legs.

She smiled and pulled me into a kiss once more and I moaned kissing her. I normally did not have sex. Truth was I never had it before. I had read and learned things. Every since I met her I wanted to at least know what I need to do. She will be my first and I will be hers and we will never part from each other~ I thrust my way in and she cries out. I assume it hurts less from what I heard when a woman cums before penetration it helps relax them. I notice it as she was not nearly as tight as I believed she could be. But I know it still hurt because of her hymen. I kiss her even deeper and massage her breasts. I did not have a lot of urges for sex almost ever but since I met her she has left me a mess of needy hornieness.

She let out a small whimper of being uncomfortable as she started to clench around me as she was trying to get used to me.

I hear her moan into my mouth as I pull away.ni wanted to hear wanted had to say.

She let out another Moran before looking at me. "A-Alastor....~" she panted, her eyes locked on mine as her voice was soft yet heavy as I could hear her own accent coming in.

(Oh no the French xD well french accent at least xD)

(XD)

"I need you, My Alastor~" She moans. "Prends-moi, fais-moi le tien, s'il te plaît Alastor Fais-moi l'amour ~"

"Take me make me yours, please Alastor Make love to me~"

I looked at her as I shudder. "oh cher I'm gonna make sure dat voice of yours be sore." I said gripping her legs as she smirked as she moved her legs so they were behind her head as I groan grabbing her waist as I push myself in fully as she suddenly clenched so tight around me. Tighter than I imagined

(Yup xD he's thinking of all the different ways xD)

(XD)

I smirked and continue to thrust and pull all the way out and then thrust back making her clench. She grabbed me as I felt pain as she dragged her nails over my back yet that pain turned to pleasure as she started to scream my name as I grabbed her, kissing her roughly as I pull away seeing her flushed face slick with sweat as pleasure was the one word that could decide her facial expression, and that raspberry red lipstick now smudged. I smirked it was perfect we continue and I grip her hair and I realize she got out of her binds the naughty thing~ We continue to make out and I speed up I can we are both close.

"O-Oh Mon dieu Yes! Yes! Al~!" She screamed loudly, louder than she had before smash she dug her nails deeply into me.

(My God)

I gave one last thrust hitting something inside her that made her convulse and push me over the edge and we both came together and I bit her neck hard marking her as mine and mine alone~ She panted as she fell back already worn out as I smirk grabbed the camera once more taking a picture of her, this time also taking a picture of her slowly having me leak out of her as she let out a little whine and tried to close her kegs.

"Now we have to get ya binds, cher." I say gathering.

"....How am I suppose to cuddle you though?" She said sounding so hurt. "I-I want to hold you..."

"Okay but ya stay in my arms cher~ or else there be hell ta pay." I say and take her in my arms and we snuggle and I slowly fall into sleep.

[YASSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS the second one done, We hope you all enjoyed and stay sexy our friends!]

#yandere #yandere alastor #yandere hazbin hotel #yandere one shot #one shot #hazbin hotel #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor #alastor x oc #alastor x marie #cajun alastor #marie #Marie Oc #OC #part 2 #epicnessqueen

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anotheronechicagobog · 4 years ago

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Crockett Marcel x reader D’accord (Oneshot)

Written by: @anotheronechicagobog

Warnings: Mature themes, America has HORRENDOUS gun laws, seriously as a Canadian I get second hand anxiety about your gun laws/judicial system (even though Canada’s is far from perfect)/healthcare system, April is not written well here but I’m gonna do a nice fic for her soon, pardon my French (literally, quite a bit of this fic is in French with translations)

You’d been surprised to find another Francophone in Chicago. After you’d moved there from Quebec, you weren’t expecting much. Only a couple of “Oui, oui,” and “hon, hon, hon”’s from some unintentionally insulting Americans. So when, during your fifth shift, you swore in your native tongue “merde!” you’d been pleasantly surprised when Crockett had responded without missing a beat.

You’d shown him French-Canadian food, he’d shown you Cajun food, and you had each gained a confidant at med. And you’d both needed it. You were in a new country with very different social customs and laws, and April had kissed him while Choi was deployed leaving him a magnet for gossip. You’d both just needed someone to talk to, and speaking French with each other was just an added comfort.

“What did Doris say this time?”

“I don’t care that people are talking about me, I really don’t. Gossip is just part of hospital life and that’s fine, but I am so tired of being glared at and avoided. People aren’t even bothering to get to know me. I am just so tired about having to fight for a basic level of confidence in my colleagues for something that I didn’t even do! She kissed me, she just walked up and kissed me, how is this my fault?”

“I’m sorry Cherie.”

“I know. How was your day?”

“Anderson pretended to shoot at me again.”

“Seriously? You should report him to HR.”

“I don’t know, I don’t want to be overreacting.”

“He is pretending to have a gun and waving it at you on a daily basis because he knows that you are from a country with decent gun laws. What about the day he comes in with a real gun? And loaded? What if he actually shoots you? You need to report him, Cher.”

“Okay, I will. At the end of the day.”

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

You sat at Molly’s away from the main group, shunned by your colleagues. “It was just a joke, Y/N, can’t you take a joke?” But it didn’t feel like a joke. Not to you. You already felt like you should be wearing a kevlar vest on a regular basis; you didn’t need to be made fun of for your very real fear. You were busy moping when someone plopped down in the stool beside you. “Mon journée a sucé. Dites-moi que le vôtre était meilleur.” (My day sucked. Tell me yours was better)

“Voyez-vous la foule de gens qui me regardent et qui parlent de moi là-bas?” (Do you see the crowd of people looking at me and talking about me there)

“Zut. J'espérais vraiment que ça irait mieux.” (Damn. I was really hoping it would get better)

“Moi aussi.” (Me too)

“The hell are you two speaking? Swedish?”

“... It’s French, Hermann.”

“If you say so Y/N... You guys want another round?”

“Yes, please, kind sir.” Trying to make a joke with the man everyone said had a heart of gold and a belly full of laughs at all times.

“Well, okay then. French people are weird.” Both you and Crockett sucked in a breath. Explaining was always the hardest part. “We are not French people. Crockett is Cajun, and I am French-Canadian.”

“Okay, I don’t know what Cajun is, but isn’t French-Canadian just a Canadian who speaks French?”

“Mon Dieu.” (My God)

“Sacre bleu (Damn it), Hermann. No, a French-Canadian is not just a Canadian who speaks French, and unless you want to start a war in a country you don’t even live in, I advise you to refrain from speaking in that manner again. And just for the record, a Cajun person is someone descended from Acadia settlers in Nova Scotia who left for Louisianna to flee the British.”

“... Okay. I’m sorry I asked.” You just held your breath as Crockett swore under his breath. You opened your eyes, grabbed your glass over bourbon and downed it. “Je sais que je viens juste d'arriver, mais je veux déjà partir.” (I know I just arrived, but I already want to leave)

“Allons-y alors.” (Let’s go then) Marcel threw cash down on the bar before you could argue and helped you put your coat on. “Avez-vous déjà mangé des tapas? J'ai entendu dire qu'il y avait un super endroit à quelques pâtés de maisons d'ici.” (Have you ever eaten tapas? Heard there is a great place a few blocks from here)

“Montrez le chemin.” (Lead the way)

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

There was a new hot button topic of gossip the next day at MED. You and Marcel. Of course, no one was that cordial. ‘He couldn’t have a nurse so he went for an intern?’, ‘What, she thought being an intern is too difficult so she’s hooking up with a doc so she doesn’t fail?’. None of anything they were saying was true. First of all, April kissed and then rejected him all while she was dating someone else, second, he wasn’t even your attending. You did your ED rotation before he got here. You were on your pediatrics rotation, and kicking ass at it. Third, he didn’t know anyone here besides you thanks to April, so who exactly was he gonna say ‘give her a pass for me’ to? You just rolled your eyes and continued working. At the end of the day, that was what would speak for you.

You hadn’t been very close to April, or anyone in the ED really, they’d all had their own drama going on the entire time you were there, so you just faded into the background. But now, April was making an effort to talk to you. You would have found it odd, had it not been at the time the rumours were really flying, and if you hadn’t seen the burning question behind her eyes. She was jealous. She damn well wouldn’t admit it, but she was. And you were angry at her, and at least you were grown up enough to admit that. She had hurt Crockett. Damaged his work relationships and reputation before he’d even started. So you acted like you enjoyed her company. You talked about literally anything that wasn’t Crockett Marcel. You watched as her questioning eyes grew more and more desperate. If she was going to come to you acting like a jealous girlfriend she should have had the decency to be honest. But she wasn’t. And Crockett was paying the price. So you tortured her a bit. It wasn’t that bad, honestly. Plus, what made her think she had any right to know about relationships you may or may not be in? But her feelings did become noticeable. To the other nurses, doctors, interns. Suddenly everyone was aware that she had kissed Crockett, and that Ethan wasn’t the only doctor she had feelings for. You felt bad for Crockett, he’d gotten sucked into a wormhole before he even knew his feet were leaving the ground. The same thing could be said for Dr. Choi’s fist.

You pushed back the curtain and marched over to Crockett who was too busy arguing with Maggie to notice you at first. “Have you gotten a CT done yet?”

“Oh- Dr. Y/L/N. Uh, let me check. Uh... Here.” Maggie handed you and a skeptical Will the tablet with Crockett’s head CT already loaded. The black and white image should have comforted you. It looked good, no injuries or anomalies. But you kept looking, you kept gripping the tablet no matter how much your knuckles, and fingers, and wrists were starting to hurt. “Cher?” You slowly looked up, Maggie and Halstead had left the room at some point. “You seein’ something Halstead didn’t?”

You didn’t answer. You didn’t have the voice to. Instead, you regarded his face intently. Choi had only gotten in a single punch, thankfully, so there was only bruising around his right eye. You moved to stand in front of him, standing in between his legs which were dangling off the side of the bed. “Cher?” The bruise was already purple, the section around the forehead turning black. Your lips pressed into a firm line. After setting the tablet on the end table you gently took Crockett’s face in your hands. Ignoring the rest of him, you gently drifted your fingers around the bruising. Your stomach sunk the more you looked at it. It wasn’t inflamed, there wasn’t any bleeding, his CT was clear. But you just couldn’t shake the weight in your gut. You didn’t even know what you were looking for. But you kept looking. “Cher.” No inflammation. “Cher.” No bleeding. “Cher.” Clear CT. “Cher.” Keep looking. “Cher.” Crockett delicately grabbed your wrist, finally grabbing your attention, bringing more than the bruise on his eye into your focus. “I’m okay, Cher.” His eyes were boring into yours, pleading for you to listen to him. He moved his hand from your wrist up overtop of your hand before intertwining your fingers together and leaning his face into your clasped hands at the side of his face.

“D’accord?” (Okay?)

“D’accord.” (Okay) He smiled gingerly. Still looking at you with soft eyes that made you melt he opened his mouth, you could tell that words in his native language were on the tip of his tongue, when the curtains in the room were pushed back suddenly. April stood, tall, strong, and with a look of utter betrayal on her face. No one in the room said anything, no one in the room breathed. Slowly, as if she were avoided a cornered coyote, April backed out of the room, her chest starting to shake, her eyes watering. Soon you were left alone in the room, your hand still wrapped in Crockett’s. Now in full view of the entire ED staff and gossip mill.

#One Chicago #chicago med #crockett marcel #crockett marcel x reader #april sexton x Crockett Marcel #april sexton #maggie lockwood

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miracleonice87 · 4 years ago

Text

Say You Won’t Let Go

a Sidney Crosby wedding series

Part Three

a/n: read part one here and part two here. Part four will be the wedding and probably also the wrap-up! again, please pardon any French errors — relying heavily on Google Translate and my singular conversational French class.

summary: rehearsal dinner with some sweet Sid and Mario.

warnings: mention of deceased father. social alcohol use. otherwise, so damn fluffy it’s practically cotton candy.

_____

The rehearsal had thankfully gone off without a hitch and also without too many further comments from Nate and Mike, our personal peanut gallery. Even Geno, Tanger and Marc behaved themselves, and the kids were all champs. After two full walk-throughs of the ceremony, Sidney and I both felt comfortable enough with the flow to wrap things up and head back to Mario’s place for dinner and drinks with our wedding party and family.

When he and I arrived back at Mario’s, we walked hand in hand through the house and out the back door to the yard, where the tent was set up with all our tables and chairs for tomorrow, flowers and decor only along one long table in the center where our smaller group would be eating tonight. The fairy lights strung through the boxwood bushes lining the yard and also wrapped around the eucalyptus and peonies under the tent gave a soft, dreamy glow to the space. The decorators, under Nathalie’s careful direction, had made my vision come to life and far exceeded my expectations. Our guests themselves seemed to be enchanted by the decor as they pointed out different aspects of the set up, finding their way to their seats.

I stood still on the patio for several seconds in complete awe, my hand falling limp at my side when Sidney moved forward, expecting me to come along with him. He turned back toward me, then looked at the ethereal scene laid out in front of us. He chuckled as he grasped my hand once more.

“I take it you like what they’ve done with the place,” Sidney teased, kissing the side of my head. I simply nodded.

Nathalie emerged from the house just then and wrapped her hands around my shoulders.

“So... what do you think?” she asked, sounding a bit nervous.

“Tantine... (auntie)” I whispered, turning to face her. “This is so perfect. I couldn’t have pictured anything better! Thank you.” I hugged her tightly. She cradled my head as she returned my embrace.

“Oh, sweetheart, you deserve it,” she insisted, pulling back and kissing my cheek. “Only the best for our girl.” We both watched tears well in each others’ eyes as we held hands for a moment, Mario walking behind Nathalie and gently placing his hands on her hips as he smiled at both of us.

“Well, shall we? I have a few words I want to say before we eat,” Mario said. I inhaled dramatically, making Sidney and Nathalie laugh as the four of us made our way to the long candlelit table.

“I hope you brought that hankie I asked for, mon chérie, (my dear)” I told Sidney, squeezing his hand as I leaned my shoulder into Mario’s chest playfully. “I have a feeling I’m going to need it.”

We four made our way to the center of the tent where the rest of our guests now sat, chatter and laughter floating through the night air. When we reached the table, Sidney pulled out my chair and tucked me into my seat, as Mario cleared his throat, a hush falling over our family and closest friends.

“Can I have everyone’s attention, just for a minute?” Mario asked gently, taking hold of the glass of champagne at his place setting that matched the other flutes dotting the glittering gold table runner. Sidney draped an arm easily across the back of my chair and I leaned back into him to look up at Mario beside me.

“I just wanted to say a few words ahead of our dinner this evening, but more importantly, ahead of tomorrow’s events. First of all, thank you all so much for being here. I’m really thrilled to be throwing this celebration for Juliette and Sidney, and you all are such an important part of this as the people who walk alongside them every day. I know it means so much to them to have you all here. I also... I just want to say how proud I am of Juliette and of the woman she has become. She is my only niece, and that has been special enough, but she has really been more of a daughter to me, to us.” Mario stopped to clear his throat and glanced down at the table, and I felt my chest tighten as I looked on.

“As those of you who are here tonight know... we lost Juliette’s father, my brother Robert, unexpectedly when she was twelve years old. Robert, he... he loved Juliette more than anything he ever loved his whole life.”

I felt tears fall from my lashes at last as Sidney pulled me closer to him, kissing my cheekbone softly. He tucked the aforementioned handkerchief into my palm with his free hand and I whispered my thanks as I dabbed at the corners of my eyes.

Mario’s voice was quivering as he continued.

“He would always say that she was his ‘cadeau le plus précieux’ — his most precious gift. And that’s what Juliette has been to us, too. A precious gift. And... I know that that’s what she is to Sidney as well. I see it in the way he treats her every day. He truly treasures her. I’ve known Sidney for a long time now, and I know what a remarkable man he is. I can tell you that Robert would be so pleased that Sidney has taken over as the most important man in his daughter’s life, the person who cares for her and protects her. It’s a big responsibility, and I truly cannot think of anyone more perfect for the role.”

I squeezed Sidney’s thigh as he dropped his head and sniffled. Mario smiled at us both, as did Sidney’s parents seated across from us. Trina reached for Sidney’s other hand and squeezed it once as he blinked back tears.

“Juliette, Sid — I can’t wait to watch the two of you continue to grow together, now as husband and wife. I’m so grateful, as we all are, to be able to bear witness to your love. So, let’s all raise our glasses,” he instructed. All of us at the table did as he requested, holding our flutes skyward.

“Cheers to Sidney and Juliette — two precious gifts — and the love they share. Love you guys,” Mario finished, a round of “salud” and applause sounding as I clinked my glass with Sidney’s, sharing a quick kiss with him before we both stood.

I threw my arms around Mario’s neck, hugging tightly and delighting in his fatherly embrace.

“I love you, oncle,” I whispered. “Thank you so much. For everything. You mean the world to me.” Mario breathed a solemn chuckle and replied, “Oh, ma petite princesse, I love you, too. You truly are a gift to me.” We held each other for another moment before pulling away with soft smiles and damp eyes, Sidney following by leaning in to hug and exchange words of gratitude with Mario.

Once we were all seated again, dinner and more drinks were served as we all fell into gleeful conversation, sharing stories from Sidney’s and my childhoods and also from our time as a couple. Our families and friends rotated retelling tales of the moments they each knew Sidney and I would be together forever, warming both of us and also occasionally making us blush. We talked of our Italian honeymoon itinerary and Sidney’s and the other hockey players’ plans for the remainder of the summer, and we reviewed once more the men’s and the women’s schedules for tomorrow.

Eventually, long after the plates had been cleared, our guests began to rise from their chairs, saying their goodbyes. Nate and Mike were staying at Mario’s with Sidney and of course Austin. Nathalie and her girls, along with Taylor, were coming back to my house with me for the night. Our couple friends with children had opted to head back to the hotel nearby where we had booked a block of rooms.

After hugging Troy and Trina and excitedly promising to see them tomorrow, I planned to make my way back inside and prepare to leave soon. Instead, Sidney grabbed my forearm gently, spinning me toward him as he smirked.

“Not so fast,” he giggled, the drinks in his system having turned his cheeks pink and his eyes sparkling.

“What are you doing, goofball?” I asked, noticing that Mario was the only other person left under the tent. He simply winked at me and carried his highball glass away with him, through the door and into the house.

“Well, the DJ’s all set up, but he has to do a sound check before he leaves... I thought maybe we could help him out,” Sidney suggested, smirking at me with his palms extended. I took hold of his hands and laughed, “What do you mean?”

Before I could say anything else, I heard the first strains of the song that Sidney and I had selected for our first dance at tomorrow’s reception. Only then did I notice the DJ at his booth at the back of the yard, past the walls of the tent. Sidney smiled warmly at me.

The first time we listened to the song together, it came on Sidney’s car radio during a road trip, and we couldn’t stop looking across the vehicle at each other as we realized how closely it reflected our relationship. Since then, we had danced to it many times alone in our home. It was the only song that seemed worthy of accompanying our first dance as husband and wife.

I met you in the dark

You lit me up

You made me feel as though

I was enough...

Shaking my head in disbelief at his thoughtfulness, I followed Sidney’s lead out to the empty dance floor.

“You set me up,” I joked, pushing a finger into his hard chest. “You’re good.” He chuckled.

Then you smiled over your shoulder

For a minute I was stone-cold sober

I pulled you closer to my chest...

“Just figured we could get in a practice run is all,” Sidney grinned, pulling my hips toward his as we moved slowly as one, my head resting on his chest, hands intertwined. “Not that you need one, but I do.” We both snickered and I hit his shoulder playfully.

I knew I loved you then

But you'd never know

'Cause I played it cool when I was scared of letting go...

“God... can you believe this day is finally almost here?” I asked, feeling Sidney hum softly into my hair.

“I really can’t. It’s been a long time coming, love,” he spoke, kissing my forehead and breathing me in. I squeezed his hand as we continued to sway together.

I knew I needed you

But I never showed

But I wanna stay with you

Until we're grey and old

Just say you won't let go...

“Yeah, it’s been coming since I was eighteen and you came over for that bonfire. You walked up and I was sitting with Lauren right over there,” I recalled, motioning to the brick patio nearby and making Sidney laugh against the top of my head.

“And I couldn’t believe how beautiful you were,” he told me. “And I really couldn’t believe that I was falling for Mario’s niece.” I giggled, fingers folding against his collar.

“I know it sounds crazy to everyone else, but we knew that night, didn’t we?” he asked.

I nodded. “Yeah, baby,” I replied sincerely. “We did.”

I'll wake you up with some

Breakfast in bed

I'll bring you coffee

With a kiss on your head

And I'll take the kids to school

Wave them goodbye

And I'll thank my lucky stars

For that night...

“How are you doing... with everything?” I knew Sidney so well that even by the tone of his voice and the pause in his question, I understood what he was asking — how I was handling not having my parents around for this momentous weekend. I inhaled and picked up my head to look at him. I gave him a small smile as he eyed me attentively.

“I’m honestly doing okay,” I promised him. “I have my moments, you know? Especially just thinking about my dad. Mario looks so much like him and sometimes I—“

My breath caught in my throat and I swallowed thickly. I looked at Sidney with hesitance and shrugged slightly. He sighed softly and hugged his arm tighter around my hips as moisture coated my eyes.

When you looked over your shoulder

For a minute I forget that I'm older

I wanna dance with you right now, oh

And you look as beautiful as ever

And I swear that every day you'll get better

You make me feel this way somehow

“I know, Juliette,” Sidney told me, lips close to my ear, sensing what my words had failed to convey. “I know this isn’t easy.”

After a deep breath I said, “No, it isn’t. But Mario and Nathalie, they just make everything so much better. That alone is so incredible. And then... your parents, and Taylor, and you.” I shook my head, looking up into his gaze. “That’s enough. You are more than enough. You’re my family.”

Sidney stood up a little straighter, becoming visibly emotional as I uttered the declaration. He leaned down to capture my lips in an ardent kiss, then rested his forehead against mine as we continued our dance.

I'm so in love with you

And I hope you know

Darling, your love is more than worth its weight in gold

We've come so far, my dear

Look how we've grown

And I wanna stay with you

Until we're grey and old...

“I’ll always be your family, Juliette,” Sidney assured in a low voice. “And someday we’ll have a family of our own.”

I grinned against him, head resting in the crook of his neck. He continued, and I allowed my eyes to fall closed, his promises soothing me.

“God, they’ll be so beautiful — our kids. And they’ll know just how much their mom and their dad both love them, and how much the rest of their family does, too,” Sidney said, kissing my hair. “They’ll never have to wonder. And you’ll never have to wonder how much you’re loved, too.”

I wanna live with you

Even when we're ghosts

'Cause you were always there for me

When I needed you most

I’m gonna love you ‘til my lungs give out

I promise, ‘til death we part

Like in our vows...

“I love you so much, Sidney,” I whispered, pushing myself up on my toes to take his face in both hands and kiss him firmly. His strong exterior melted palpably in my grasp.

“Say you won’t let go,” I murmured against his lips.

He shook his head.

“I’m never letting go of you, Jules.”

_____

After a lengthy and intimate goodbye in Mario’s driveway, with our respective bridal party members periodically calling our names trying to speed up the process, I finally attempted to pry myself out of Sidney’s hold. With one last heated kiss that made my lips tingle and toes curl, I smoothed my hands across his broad shoulders and sighed.

“Let’s leave on that note,” I suggested. “Because that right there... that’s gonna leave me wanting more,” I added in a whisper. He ghosted his fingers down my bare arms as he let out a soft moan.

“I wish I could take you now,” he growled, pulling me into himself once more. I laughed, holding him close then finally backing away, squeezing his hands in mine.

“One more day, handsome,” I promised. “Then I’m all yours... forever.” His eyes flashed with pride.

“Forever,” Sidney repeated, nodding once. He squeezed my hands with another sigh and said, “Okay, you better go now, because I’m just never gonna be ready to let you go.”

“Okay,” I whispered with a cutesy laugh. “I’m going.” I walked backwards slowly, drinking in his fit figure and biting down on my bottom lip. His eyes widened.

“Juliette!” he warned in a strained whine. “Please don’t do that.”

I tipped my head back in a slightly maniacal laugh. “You can punish me tomorrow,” I whispered with a wink. Sidney’s own head fell backward as he groaned.

“I love you, Sidney Crosby,” I told him, nearing Lauren’s Mercedes. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“I love you, Juliette,” he returned. “How ‘bout tomorrow I make you Mrs. Juliette Crosby?” My heart fluttered as I giggled like a schoolgirl.

“I’ve never wanted anything more,” I told him earnestly.

I blew him a kiss as I got into Lauren’s passenger seat and was whisked away from Sidney, with him watching us pull down the driveway until we were out of sight.

On the ride home, Lauren and Stephanie teased me about the never-ending farewell between Sidney and me. All I could do was roll my eyes and smirk as they poked fun.

Alexa, ever my protective little sister, stepped in for the second time of the evening.

“You guys are mean! I find it adorable,” she announced. “We should all hope that we find someone who loves us as much as Sid loves Jules.” I turned in my seat and threw my youngest cousin a grateful grin.

“Thanks, Lex,” I said. “You always were my favorite.” Lauren and Stephanie, resigned to Alexa’s sentiments just a moment ago, now launched into hysterics once more as they fought over who was indeed my preferred cousin.

For the rest of the short drive, the nonsense had only morphed into giddy slap-happiness as we piled out of the SUV and made our way into Sidney’s and my house. We pushed the door open to find Nathalie already waiting for us inside, shaking her head at our antics.

“You girls! You’re never goofier than when you’re all together,” she laughed.

Stephanie hooked an arm around my neck and touched our heads together, her athletic frame towering over me.

“Together’s our favorite place to be,” Stephanie mused, causing us all to groan and needle her about her sappy statement as we made our way into the living room.

“Hey, Jules, why don’t you go put on some comfy clothes, then we can sit out back and have some wine?” Lauren suggested.

I nodded quickly. “Sounds perfect to me,” I replied, beaming. She mirrored my smile and I started up the grand staircase.

“Not too much wine!” Nathalie scolded from the kitchen. “No hangovers or puffy eyes for us tomorrow.” All of us younger girls giggled again amongst ourselves, though we knew that we would be best to follow her motherly advice, especially on this occasion.

As I reached our second story, my heart flickered with a distinct emptiness as I realized that Sidney wasn’t here, and wouldn’t be. The two of us spent so few summer nights apart that I could probably count them on only one hand each year. Since his in-season schedule was so strenuous, he made sure that he was home every summer afternoon or evening in plenty of time to catch up about our days, to have dinner together — whether at home or out — and to unwind with a cocktail or a beer. On those summer nights we spent in Pittsburgh and not Cole Harbour, we could often be found with drinks in hand on our bedroom balcony, watching the late evening sun set behind the trees.

I stepped out of my heels when I reached our master suite, flicking on the light switch before scooping up my shoes with two fingers. As I headed for my walk-in closet to change, I gasped at what was before my eyes — on the mirrored glass table in our sitting area sat a massive bouquet of red roses, in an enormous glass vase adorned with a white silk bow. Tucked into the ribbon was a folded piece of paper. My breath caught in my throat, and I scampered to the table on the balls of my feet.

I pulled the letter from its resting place — “To My Bride,” the outer leaf read. I splayed my fingers across my chest as I began to get misty-eyed. The paper smelled faintly of Sid’s cologne. I pulled it open with shaking hands, eyes flickering over the familiar handwriting.

My dearest love,

Just think — by this time tomorrow, you and I will be husband and wife! What a journey it’s been so far. I can’t wait to travel this road with you for the rest of my days, and to fill this house for years to come with laughter, love, and lots of children with you.

My Juliette, never forget how intensely I adore you, how incredibly much I cherish you, how deeply you amaze me, or how proud I am to call you mine. Tomorrow is the first day of our forever. I can hardly stand the thought. I’ll see you at the altar, princess.

With all my love, for all my life,

P.S. Six dozen roses for the six years I’ve loved you. I’ll love you for an eternity more. XO.

I moved my hand from my mouth to wipe a few fallen tears that had dropped onto my cheeks, sniffling as I refolded the paper. Though I had promised my cousins that I would avoid talking to Sidney tonight, I knew in my heart that even they would allow an exception to the rule for a gesture as remarkable as this one.

I dug through my purse on the floor beneath me and found my phone, calling the most recent contact in my history. It rang only once before the line was picked up.

“Hi, princess,” I heard my groom say, the smile in his tone evident.

“You are incredible,” I remarked in a shaky voice, trying to swallow the evidence of my happy tears. “I just walked into our room and found your flowers. Thank you, baby.”

Sidney let out a hum, pleased with himself. “You’re welcome, love. Gotta hand the assist to Nate on that one — he dropped off the roses when you and I left for Mario’s earlier,” he told you.

“Love you, Jules!” you heard Nate exclaim in the background, followed by a couple of whoops from the other men. You laughed as their volume faded, guessing that Sidney had stepped into a more private location as he chuckled.

“Well, thank him for me, too,” I said into the phone. “I was just thinking of how much I already miss you. Normally on a night like tonight, we’d be together on the balcony or in the yard.” He let out a contemplative hum.

“I miss you too, Jules,” he admitted. “We don’t spend too many nights away from that porch this time of year, eh?” I breathed a laugh at how he seemed to be able to read my thoughts, and he continued. “Soon enough we’ll be sitting there together again, with rings on both our hands.” I smiled at the thought.

“Sounds perfect. Listen, I won’t keep you. I just wanted to say thank you for the flowers, but mostly for the letter,” I told him. “I can’t wait to spend a lifetime with you, Sidney.”

He sighed contentedly into the phone. “Good news is we don’t have to wait much longer. I’m glad you enjoyed the surprise. Have a nice night with the girls and I’ll see you tomorrow, beautiful. I love you so much,” Sidney said warmly.

“I love you, too,” I responded. “See you tomorrow, babe.” We both hesitated slightly to hang up the call but I finally did after we exchanged yet another set of goodbyes. I clutched my phone to my chest and stared at the bouquet once again.

“Forever,” I whispered airily.

87 notes · View notes

eury--dice · 4 years ago

Text

glitter and tree branches

happy (belated) holidehs, @singtomeinstead! thank you so much for your wonderful prompts and your even more wonderful dedication to this beautiful @sincerely-us gift exchange. hope your 2021 is off to a good start <3

(ao3 link in the notes!)

It all starts in Ellison Park.

Maybe that is the one thing, across any universe, that stays the same - that cannot change. No matter how you slice their story, it all starts in Ellison Park. Whether that beginning is a fall from a tree, a single form illuminated against the endless expanse of pink morning sky, or -

This.

It all starts in Ellison Park, 2006, when four families tangentially decide a trip to the park is the perfect spring activity, bundle up their five-year-olds and head off.

The Murphy’s arrive early. Larry guides the car over gravel until stopping, Connor and Zoe’s cheers from the backseat audible to everyone outside. Larry and Cynthia share a tight grin over their excitement, eyes pulled taut from lack of sleep.

“Ice cream!” Zoe shouts, eyes catching on the closed Dell’s lemonade cart just outside the gate. Connor is already chanting “le-mon-ade,” albeit much quieter than his sister. Cynthia raises a hand to massage over her eyes.

“It’s 11 am,” Larry points out. “No ice cream yet, sweetheart.”

“No!” They wail in perfect synchrony, only to promptly forget about sweets as soon as they’re unbuckled from the car and tearing off to the park. Cynthia sighs, gesturing for Larry to follow them while she gets what they need for the day.

Six-year-old Evan Hansen is decidedly a morning person. He has been a morning person since the day of his birth, and he will be one for the rest of his life. So while kids his age nod off against their parent’s shoulders on park benches and in their booster seats, he presses his nose against the window of the car and lets his breath fog it up even though he knows his father will scold him for the messiness later. As soon as they step into the park Evan’s vision tunnels into everything around him, sheer joy taking over as he pulls his hand from his mother’s and takes off towards the nearest tree.

“Evan!” she yelps, momentarily distracted from her argument with Mark. Since Evan normally never darts away from her, she’s caught off guard by his sudden energy, her heart rate skyrocketing with Mark’s words intangible in her ears. But Evan pays her no heed; he just runs, his parent’s arguing fading into the background for the first time he can remember. He stops at one of the trees, laying a palm against it and closing his eyes. Through his fingertips, it’s like he is rooted to the ground; like he himself is steady, consistent, and ready to provide comfort.

Heidi stops in her tracks once she can see that he’s safe, turning to Mark with an “are you seeing this?” expression, but he staunchly refuses to return her gaze.

Jared Kleinman is distinctly not a morning person, much to his friend’s dismay. Their parents always joked about it when they were little more than babies sharing naps in the Kleinman’s living room; Evan fussing at the first sign of light while Jared took more than a fair bit of commotion to so much as stir. So the Kleinman’s amble into the park a little after the Hansen’s, a still sleepy Jared leaning between his moms like a tiny labored soldier. He perks up on hearing Heidi’s voice, attuned to trouble as always, but his mom tightens her grip on his shoulder before he can run forward.

“Plenty of time for that,” she said in an undertone. “I don’t want you bonking your head because you’re sleepy.”

“I won’t,” Jared insists, offended at the mere notion he could mess something up.

His mother studies his eyes for a moment before relenting. “All right. Go see your friend.”

Jared takes off at once, a direct beeline to Evan - so direct that he doesn’t see the child-shaped obstacle in his path, immediately bonking heads and falling back onto his butt on the pavement, two glasses clattering noises filling his ears. “Oh my god,” he hears his other mom groan.

“You should be more careful,” a voice says, little-kid saccharine but mature beyond its years. “You’re Jared, right?”

“Alana! Are you okay?” a man calls at the same time Jared’s mom calls, “I told you!”

Jared hadn’t expected to see Alana Beck from his kindergarten class there, but he did all the same.

“Are you okay?” She says before he can respond. “My head hurts a bit. Does yours?”

“Uh, yeah,” Jared says. “A bit.” He reaches blindly for the first pair of glasses he can vaguely see, but when he puts them on his vision explodes and contorts.

“Are these yours?” they say at the same time, so Jared guesses she must have picked up his. They swap, and Jared frowns at a long scratch in his right lense before putting them back on.

“That’s why you need to look where you’re going,” Alana says, noting his frown. “My grandma says people get hurt when they’re not aware of their surroundings.”

“I guess.” Jared feels a little stunned into silence, even as their parents come over to check them. But finally, he manages to say “Do you want to come play with me and Evan?”

Alana scrunches up her nose, her glasses following. “Evan Hansen?”

“Yeah.”

She thinks on it for a moment, then throws a look to someone who must be her younger sister. “Okay,” she says, and that’s that.

The three unite by Evan’s tree, though Evan is a squirrel so he climbs nearly all the way up while Jared and Alana watch. Alana talks enough for all three of them, jabbering on about her family and what she misses from school now that they’re older, and that seems to ease Evan’s discomfort around a new person. He’s content to climb while they carry the conversation.

All three of their heads turn at the sound of a sudden splash followed by the shouts of two dismayed children. Jared laughs reflexively at the sight of horror on their nearly-identical faces, freckles elongated with their widening mouths. Evan drops down nimbly from the tree almost at once.

“Dad!” the boy calls, hands flying to his short curls to tug, and after a moment they recognize him as another classmate - Connor Murphy, in a different section, known to dominate the monkey bars at recess. “Why’d you throw it in the lake?”

“Emergency landing,” a man with graying hair replies, a little ways off from where Evan’s parents had settled. “Sorry, Con.”

While a few of their parents chuckle, neither of the kids appears sated; in fact, both look close to tears. The three by the tree exchange a look.

“Should we?” Alana says, and Evan nods, Jared already setting off towards the lake.

“What was it?” he asks loudly, once they near the two who lean over the surface of the lake longingly.

Zoe, who he only knew through Connor’s sharing time about his family, shot him a watery glare. “A airplane,” she bites out.

“An airplane,” Alana corrects, though she quiets when she’s on the receiving end of Zoe’s glare.

“We don’t have an airplane,” Evan says, looking between Alana and Jared for confirmation. “But, um…you can play with us?”

The two stare at each other for a beat, still working back tears, before they sigh.

“Not even one airplane?” Connor asks.

“Not even one.”

“My sister might have one,” Alana puts in. “I can ask?”

Connor eyes them warily for a beat before sighing again. “Fine. Zoe?”

“I guess so,” she says, voice small.

Friends acquired…apparently.

***

Most of the time, Zoe wishes she and Connor are real twins.

They feel enough like it - given that they almost always just played with each other - and even looked enough like it, if random people in the supermarket’s judgment could be trusted. People sometimes said they were Irish twins, which Zoe never quite understood, even after Cynthia sat her on the couch and explained the concept to her. Being Irish twins is fine and all, even though only their dad was even a little Irish (thanks, Murphy surname). But it isn’t as good as being a real twin, sharing the birthday she so desperately wants, sharing the grade above her own.

Instead, she’s stuck, out of the loop and behind. Alana comes over in the lunchroom on the days where she can, seemingly only willing to break the rules that keep her separated from everyone else due to grade. Zoe gets quite used to the sight of Alana beelining across the cafeteria, her star-patterned lunchbox unzipped and held to her chest as she weaves around students and faculty alike with a grace that Zoe assumes comes from dance. And she gets used to Alana parking herself right across from her, unzipping a small ziplock bag of baby carrots around the surprised looks of elementary school underclassmen, and saying something along the lines of “did Mrs. Gould teach you about magnets today?” And Zoe takes the offered baby carrot, puts away the felt-tip pen she’s been doodling with, and smiles.

She drags the other three over one day, though Connor’s lips set in annoyance over having to babysit his little sister and Evan’s set in something that looks closer to anxiety, casting anxious glances over to the faculty presiding over the lunchroom. Jared simply throws her an amused smile, squeezing between her and her friend from class and cutting Zoe off with a loud “Howdy!” before she can apologize for his behavior. Evan takes the unoccupied space on her right, his fingers messing with the clasp of his lunchbox. His eyes jump across the faculty members even as Alana and Connor sit across from her. She’s so used to seeing both of them across from her that it takes a moment for her to remember how different they usually are. Alana only ever looks like this, separated by a grainy plastic table and fluorescent lights, but normally she sees Connor under their warm kitchen lights and the honey-colored wood of their kitchen table.

“You don’t have to come over here,” she says quietly, words muffled into the collar of her sweater.

Alana just smiles and launches their normal lunch routine, this time with the added chatter from Connor and Jared, before Evan’s face shifts and Zoe lifts her eyes to see a faculty member appear just behind Alana.

“Aren’t you all at the wrong table?” They say, and the five scatter as quickly as they can, hoping to avoid docked recess as punishment. On the playground, Evan bites the corner of his nail nervously and Connor refuses to look in Zoe’s direction, staring instead towards the faculty hovering by the fences.

So much for trying to spend time together.

Out of school, though - out of school is equal for everyone, regardless of grade. No time to share, no privacy for their conversations, no good locations for their games.

“We should have a secret hiding spot,” Alana declares later that same day. Even from her position hunched under the bunk bed she shares with her younger sister, her voice carries such a sure tone that no one could even disagree.

“Should we all join you?” Jared quips. Connor responds by smacking him lightly on the shoulder.

“Not in my house,” Alana says, and for some reason, Zoe expects an eye roll or something of the sort, but she’s Alana so of course there’s only confidence and surety. “Do you really want my dads hearing everything?”

“We don’t have secrets,” Evan points out from his spot on the floor between Jared and Zoe. His sleeve brushes against Zoe’s when he fidgets, his hands moving his shoulders.

“We could,” Jared says. “How else are we going to steal all the Jell-O from the cafeteria?”

“I think you’re the only person who actually likes that Jell-o,” Zoe says, before immediately regretting it. The words slip through her teeth, liketh thad dell-o, rounded and off compared to all of her friends. Evan’s arm brushes against hers again.

“Of all the criminal plots, Jared,” Connor agrees.

“It’s gross,” Evan adds in an undertone, and Zoe is pretty sure she’s the only one who can hear it.

“But it would be a secret!”

“We’re not going to do that,” Alana says; words getting caught in a sigh. “But wouldn’t it be nice to talk without-”

As if on queue, her younger sister bursts into the room, catapulting herself onto the top bunk with a frightening speed. Evan falls into Jared as she hurtles over them, and Connor jumps practically a foot in the air.

With a comical precision, almost like something actually out of a comic in the paper that Larry loved to hand them on Sunday’s so they could “learn to read a newspaper,” they turn to look at Alana.

“Like I said,” she says, assuming her teacher voice.

“…Well, where?” Jared finally replies. “Our houses don’t work too well.”

“Outside?” Evan suggests hopefully. “Maybe the park?”

“It’s too cold, and our parents can’t always drive us there,” Alana says. “But maybe…hm…

At once, Connor and Zoe’s heads swivel towards each other.

“We have a place,” Connor says slowly, reading understanding on Zoe’s face. “Or…we will.”

Larry has passions that ebb and flow just like Cynthia, and for once Zoe is certain she and her brother are thinking of the same thing; the influx of wood he’d been purchasing recently, the power tools they heard whenever he was off work, the constant questions over whether they wanted to help.

A week later, the five stand in the Murphy’s backyard. Cynthia and Larry observe at a distance, their faces careful as they watch the kid’s reactions but obvious joy in the lines of Larry’s tiny smile.

“Oh my God,” Jared breathes. “Is it real?”

“No, dummy,” Connor says, voice filled with a pompousness that Zoe hates. “We bought a treehouse decal and spent all night getting it up there just to play tricks on you.”

“Don’t be mean, Connor,” Zoe says with the snobbiness she knows he hates. He sticks his tongue out at her in return.

Evan steps forward first, laying his palm against the tree trunk and staring up with a reverence Zoe never expected. He smiles gently, the light brushing his cheeks like burnished bronze, and Zoe looks away with a smile similar to her father’s.

“Well, let’s go,” Connor says, and Evan must take his words as invitation, because he forgoes the ladder and chooses instead to scale the tree limbs until worming his way in through the “window” of the treehouse. Zoe heard something like a fond laugh behind her, most likely her mother’s doing, before she raced off to the tree herself. She did opt for the ladder, however. Connor follows Evan’s dramatics, and Alana and Jared are close on Zoe’s heels.

“Woah,” she hears Alana breathe, and, well. Woah was right.

The treehouse isn’t very large, but to a bunch of elementary students it certainly feels like it. The smell of fresh pine assaults her nose, dust still floating around and tickling her eyelashes. The late fall light streams in through the slats and windows, leaving a gold-washed tint around the treehouse and all of her friends.

Connor wanders over to a small platform, and she follows, letting her other friends scatter about the room, chattering idly about the treehouse. Zoe leans her head on Connor’s shoulder, but just as she does Connor nudges Zoe with his elbow. Uncaring to her yelp, he asks “Do you have the thread in your room?”

“Thread?” She repeats, as it takes her brain a moment to catch up. “Ohh. Yeah. I think so.”

“Want to go grab it?”

“Why?”

He motions to his wrist and then to the group as a whole.

“Whyyyy me?” She says, the y drawing out into a whine in a true younger sibling move.

All the same, she’s on her way back up the treehouse with a tub of bracelet thread tucked under her arm five minutes later. Maneuvering up the ladder with it tucked under her arm proved to be a bit of a challenge, but nothing Zoe Murphy can’t handle. She does throw it through the window before her, though, which (by Connor’s horrified yelp) isn’t the brightest move. When she reenters, Connor is already gathering up thread and shaking dust out of it.

“Oh, yes,” Jared says, surging forward and grabbing a green and purple thread from Connor’s hands. He sits heavily on the ground, immediately beginning a complicated braid without any prompting. He looks up at their surprised faces a moment later. “What? I learned at camp this summer.”

“Did you learn, Evan?” Alana asks, likely remembering they went to the same camp.

Evan looks away, one hand reaching to pick at an imperfection in the wooden wall. He shrugs. “‘M not very good,” he says, and Zoe can’t help but remember the snatches of conversation she remembers overhearing accidentally from her parents - she had to drive down and couldn’t handle it and maybe talking to the school counselor came to mind.

She crosses to him without thinking, grabbing his hand. “I’ll teach you,” she blurts without thinking. Connor hands her her favorite colors without prompting, and Zoe begins a tri-color braid that’s probably more complicated than Evan needs, but he catches on easily enough after a few minutes, twisting the blue and purple and pink together into something beautiful.

They pass their first hours in the treehouse like that, singularly focused like only little kids can be, and when Zoe’s parents bring up pizza and Sprite they pause only to admire their fine work. Several bracelets adorn each of their wrists, each twisted by someone else and infused with why Jared jokingly called the power of love. And the sun sets on them all together, smearing grease across their faces and throwing loose bits of thread across their haven in the sky, and Zoe smiles.

***

It was nearing dinnertime, far too cold and far too quiet to be in a treehouse.

Connor and Zoe took to hanging around the treehouse even when their friends weren’t there, much preferring it to their former hiding places within the house. As the winter wore on and the days grew shorter, so did Murphy tempers, and cabin fever mixed in only made enclosed spaces more liable to combust. So, with the treehouse available, Zoe tended to grab Connor and the ukelele she’d just begun learning to play and sneaking out the sliding door into their backyard. That particular evening, the layer of fluffy snow that had just fallen masked their escape and allowed them entrance to the treehouse and cushioned any residual noise left from the kitchen. They still were bundled up, however, their parkas and hats pulled tight. Both had forgone gloves, however; Zoe felt her fingers stiffen and slip on her ukelele strings, while Connor seemed unperturbed by the cold while he sketched in his brand-new sketchbook. Save for her muffled ukelele noises and the faint rustling of small creatures in the snow and Connor’s pencil etching against paper, all was still.

“I don’t think you’re supposed to bring string instruments into the cold,” Connor said, breaking the silence. Zoe responded by strumming an e minor chord more aggressively.

They fell back into their rhythm, and Connor started to hum along to her strumming just as the pinks and purples broke through gray winter sky.

“We have a project,” a voice declared. startling both of them out of their individual reveries. Alana’s head popped up in the treehouse window, a giant pom-pom hat perched precariously over the intricate braided bun Zoe could remember seeing at school that day.

“Jesus Christ, Alana,” Connor said, sounding very much like a kid who was trying his hardest to get a handle on cussing and sounding cool. “How did you get here?”

Alana blinked, righting the large box she held in her hands. “Your parents said you were here.”

Connor stilled abruptly, while Zoe’s foot started bouncing. “You talked to them?”

“Yeah,” she said, and as if she knew their next question - likely because she did, from years of experience - “They seemed like they were calming down.”

“Good,” Zoe said quietly.

Impervious to the Murphy siblings’ shifted expressions, Alana dropped the metal box to the floor and followed it, dropping to the frosty pine boards like there was nothing else she’d rather do. “Anyway, we’re making a time capsule!”

“We are?” Zoe said, feeling amusement creeping into the edges of her voice.

“Yes. You’ll thank me in ten years.”

Zoe and Connor shared a look. Connor cut off the awkward silence that suddenly descended. “The ground is frozen. How are we going to bury it?”

Alana grinned over the lid. “My dads were talking about the thaw later this week.”

“No snow?” added a new voice. Evan popped up barely a moment later, likely having taken a wild path up the tree rather than using the ladder like anyone else, even when ice coated to every nook and cranny of the bark. “Already?”

“Apparently,” Zoe replied.

“Won’t it get all covered in mud?” Jared added, and Zoe spun her head around to look at Alana, fixing her with a sharp look.

“Did you invite everyone over to our house?”

Alana shrugged. “This is important. And there isn’t that much mud if you dig deep enough, Jared.”

“Again - why?” Connor interrupted.

“Because she says so, and it’s a kick-ass idea,” Jared said.

“Didn’t expect you to latch onto sentimentality, Kleinman,” Zoe muttered, startling a laugh out of him.

Alana pulled a binder free from the backpack she’d slung to the ground. “C’mon - what do you want to add?”

“Cheerios,” Jared said at once, earning a scowl out of Alana.

“If you’re not going to take this seriously, Jared-”

“He’ll shut up,” Evan rushed to cut him off. “So not food items?”

“More sentimental, I think,” Connor said.

“Exactly.”

Under Alana’s direction, they did just that. After a successful thaw later in the week Zoe took a shovel from the garage and helped them dig and re-bury dirt in the Murphy’s backyard, marked by a small stake Connor painted with acrylics from their mom’s craft supply.

“Now we wait,” Alana said.

***

Somewhere along the line, things get… tense.

Zoe reads the self-help books and watches the videos her teachers play on VHS tapes during their “health” classes. They all describe the same thing, a switch flipping with no warning once elementary school draws to a close and sixth grade begins. Admittedly, she watches them a year later than everyone else, forever cursed to be a year behind. But she knows it’s coming all the same - fault lines crackling out through the earth and darting between their feet, setting them all adrift on different paths, thunder drowning out their words where there used to be laughter.

Nothing could have prepared her for the actual occurrence, though.

The treehouse really is their de facto hangout spot, given the Murphy’s lasé-faire attitude towards where their children were and the complete privacy it afforded. With their newly-acquired Jazz Band extracurricular, Zoe and Jared always arrive late, normally to the sight of Evan and Alana reading and Connor drawing or some other combination of their group’s preferred activities. But when they climb the ladder to the treehouse that day, the air is…stilted, like Zoe has grown to expect inside the house. That kind of expectant anger, like you know something is going to go wrong but aren’t sure what it is yet.

Evan sits, his eyes darting between Alana and Connor and over to Jared and Zoe as they walk in like he can sense a disaster brewing. Jared flounces over to Connor, sprawling, earning himself a glare.

“Can I help you, Kleinman?”

He nods to the sketchbook in Connor’s hands. “Might want to clean up those lines.”

It only gets worse from there - cutting barbs thrown this way and that, all ready to strike and hit. Nothing too bad, at least not until Connor says get the fuck out of my house and Jared says at least I have other people who will take me and Alana says honestly can’t you two even try to act mature and Zoe hears herself say at least we’re not miserable all the time before she realizes that’s - patently false. And one by one, they storm away, hopping down with practiced agility they no longer have reason to use.

And there Zoe sits. Shutting down, like she always does.

***

Connor felt like he was suffocating.

Everything was aggressively there-every word spoken grating his ears, every shadow a little too dark and every light a little too bright, every glance so heavy it weighed on his chest. He felt uneven and on edge, like one loud noise would send him spiraling off of a cliff and bursting into tears.

“Zoe,” he’d said, coming up behind her as she stood at the counter. Maybe if he’d looked he would have seen how her shoulders tensed as soon as she heard his voice. Maybe if he’d listened he would’ve heard how Zoe’s breath hitched and how she quickly ran a hand over her face. Maybe if he’d paid attention he would’ve noticed how her hands clenched around her mug and she steeled herself. Maybe the glint of pain and fear and loneliness nestled deep within her eyes before she put her shields up as she turned around would’ve stood out to him. But he couldn’t even handle analyzing himself, and there was no hope for understanding Zoe.

“What?” She said, and even in his funk he noticed how her words appeared differently than normal. Maybe, if he’d taken a moment to think, he would have identified the source-fatigue, cutting through each letter. There was none of the venom they’d grown used to hurling at each other and pretending it didn’t burn once it touched skin. She sounded tired.

He rubbed the edge of his sweatshirt sleeve with us thumb, trying to pull an excuse out of nowhere. In reality, he just needed something to anchor him to Earth, but he couldn’t say that to her. “Could you paint my nails?” He bit out, risking cutting his gaze up to her face. Her eyes had widened slightly since he last looked at her, eyebrows lifted silently with them. She pulled her bottom lip between her front teeth, and she looked down and away, foot tapping some unfamiliar rhythm against the tiled floor. Silence hung between them, dark and heavy, nearly drowning out the tap tap taptap tap of her foot. He looked back up towards her, not quite meeting her eyes, perhaps a bit more expectancy in his gaze than he would have liked.

She shook her head slightly, ring finger tapping against the side of her mug. “Why?” She said, almost too quietly for him to hear.

“Why am I asking…?”

“Yeah,” She said, same fatigue in her voice. “Why are you asking me? When this is the first time you’ve talked to me in…what, four months without being forced to?”

Connor shrugged a little, taken aback by this reaction. A soft, incredulous laugh built in Zoe’s throat.

“I don’t understand,” she whispered, voice choked. “I don’t understand. You’ve broken down my door twice. I’m the worst thing that’s ever happened to you. Why would you want me to…”

“I don’t know,” Connor said, voice uneven. Zoe shook her head again.

She stared evenly at him, and maybe if he’d been paying better attention he would have noticed the thin sheen of tears in her eyes as he raised his eyes to meet hers. “What color?”

“What?”

“Nail polish. If I painted your nails. What color would it be?”

Connor resumed rubbing his sleeve. “Black.”

She bit her lip again, the edges of her mouth curling into a bitter smile, words sounding just as bitter. “Damn. I’m out of black.”

The edge of Connor’s mouth twitched even as he felt something sink inside of him. “I see,” he said, a touch harder than the previous words had been.

Zoe shrugged, hand still wrapped around her mug, as she pushed her hip against the side of the counter to launch herself away from it. “That’s that, I guess.”

“I guess so,” Connor responded, voice hollow.

Maybe, if he’d looked up instead of locking his gaze on the floor, he’d have seen the tense hold of Zoe’s shoulders, the moment of faltering before she continued walking.

“I guess so,” she repeated faintly, all edges gone form her voice and tiredness abundant.

Connor squeezed his eyes shut, and when he opened them, she was completely gone from the kitchen. He gazed around for a moment, letting the view of the kitchen wash around him.

Oh, how the mighty fall.

***

Zoe is desperately glad she and Connor are only Irish twins.

Distance - distance is what she needs more than ever. She’d hated it, that chasm between her and everyone else, but of course she couldn’t have known just how wide that chasm could get. Would get, with time and urging and their circle falling apart under the right amount of pressure.

The right amount of pressure, she thinks, poised to flee on her kitchen chair, leg bouncing and heart coiled, for Connor to come home. He does, of course, sullen and tired, but in front of her eyes all the same. It’s only been a year since they reached critical mass in the treehouse, but the shift in all of them came quickly and without mercy. Alana buries herself in more work than Zoe had ever thought possible, always hurrying away whenever Zoe tries to get a word in edgewise. Jared just darts his eyes around like a caged animal, calculations churning behind his eyes as though searching for his best way forward. Evan she still sees somewhat regularly, making sure that her parents still drive him home and letting him crash on their couch when Heidi works too late, but she’s seen him retreat into himself too often to think he’s okay. And Connor…

“What are you doing up?” he whispers, the sound traveling across their kitchen table.

“Waiting for you,” she responds in a similar hiss, snapping her laptop shut.

“You should’ve just gone to bed, Mom’s gonna be pissed if she sees the li-”

“When she sees her son walk through the door at-” she lifts her phone dramatically, searching for the little time symbol. “1:12 in the morning?”

“Well she won’t see it if you just go to sleep-”

“What are you even doing?” she says in a normal tone, though she recoils and presses a hand over her mouth when Connor’s eyes widen in warning. She and Connor freeze with their hands stifling their breathing, trying to hear any shifts from their parents upstairs with their identical eyes wide. After a beat of nothing but the house shifting in the wind, she lowers her hands, swiping up her laptop with the one closest to the table. “You don’t need to be out this late, Con.”

His eyes flash over to her, then back up to the ceiling. “You don’t need to stay up for me.”

“Oh, sure, I’ll just stop worrying, I’ll just go to bed and dream sweet dreams when you’re doing hell knows what-”

“I didn’t ask you to fucking worry about me!” He cuts out. “I don’t need your pity, Zoe!”

She balts, shakes her head, feels her braids sliding against the material of her jazz band sweatshirt. “Pity?” she repeats.

Connor holds his jaw, looking away.

“Pity,” she says, then laughs a single time, too loud, but she’s past the point of caring. “I don’t know where you got pity from in the last fourteen years, Connor, but none of it is coming from me, that’s for sure.” She brushed past him. “Fine. You don’t deserve my worry anyway. I’ll tell mom in the morning if you’re so insistent.”

Connor’s footsteps hurry after her, until his fingers wrap around her wrist. She jerks it away as soon as he makes contact, “Don’t. Please.”

“You want me to stop worrying?” she says lowly, dangerously. “Fine. Then I’ll make sure you can’t do anything that worries me. See how you fucking like that.”

It was like a switch flipped in Connor, like as soon as their group fell apart so did he, growing more liable to shut down and ramp up at once. But he just leaves her grasping at straws always, never able to say anything right.

Middle school bleeds into high school, the chasm and pressure growing between them, small disagreements exploding into screams and something valuable shattering. Doors they’d never closed before close with racorous clangs, and Zoe grows tired of sleeping outside of them and waiting for him to open them up.

You don’t need to worry about me, he’d said, and she can’t ever stop, really, but she can ignore him until the worry clawed at her a little less urgently.

Try as she might, she couldn’t just forget all those years, especially when she saw reminders of them all around school - flashes of Jared’s shirts, an edge of Alana’s backpack, a flicker of Evan’s eyes. She still goes to the treehouse, sometimes, but mostly she keeps to her room, her guitar, the things she knows.

Her phone buzzes one night, and when she sees Evan Hansen flash across her screen she picks it up without a moment’s thought.

“Hello?”

“Zoe?” Evan says, voice breathy in her ear.

There’s a beat. “Yeah,” she finally says. “You okay?”

“I’m - yeah, um, I’m fine, it’s all - uh, my mom is pulling a night shift.”

“Oh?” She says, barely a hum.

“Yeah. She - look, this is, um, really dumb, I know, but can I - can I stay at yours? Tonight? I know it’s been, um, less than ideal, I can just-”

“Yeah,” she says, again without thinking. She squeezes her eyes shut, forces enthusiasm into her voice. “Yeah. ‘Course, Ev. I’ll - you need me to pick you up?”

“What? Um - no, I’m - I’m at the park, actually, walking is…fine.”

Her eyebrows pull closer together. “It’s late.”

“It’s fine. I’m fine. Really.”

Ten minutes later, Evan is on their front porch. Cynthia greets him with a warm smile, and Zoe leans against the doorway of the guest room while he sets himself up.

“Are you okay, Evan?” She hears herself ask.

His head jerks up quickly, locking eyes with her. “I-I’m fine.”

Zoe shakes her head, letting out a but of air through her nose. “What’s up, then?”

His hands still over his backpack, and he looks just past her head to the hallway. “I couldn’t be alone in that house.”

She hesitates for a moment, nods, looks to the corner of the room. “I get it.”

“Do you?”

Her eyes snap back over to him. “What?”

“Do you - have you been alone, Zoe, through all of this?”

She snorts. “Good as.”

“But never actually-”

“Loneliness isn’t always distance,” she spits out. “But if it was you’d be all set, given how much you run away from all of us.”

Time slows to a crawl; Evan lets his hands fall to his sides, eyes wide and searching on hers.

“I’m,” she begins, the word getting stuck in her throat. She looks towards her feet. “I’m sorry.”

He shakes his head, but before he can say anything she says “I’ll drive you in tomorrow” and is gone, set off down the hallway.

The next morning she gets to her car early, knowing, somehow, he’ll climb in with enough time to get there. And he does so wordlessly.

Somewhere, on the way to school, he murmurs, “I’m sorry for pulling away.”

She taps her index finger against the wheel, looking out towards the road rather than him. The scene is desolate, still early-morning and deserted with the yellowing pools of light from streetlights that have yet to switch off. “Yeah, me too.”

Every day, he swings by her house - a long walk, making his day longer, but he’s always been an early bird - to get a ride to school. Connor joins them occasionally, but mostly he arrives by his own means that Zoe isn’t too interested in learning. He talks to Jared, little by little, and she sees Connor and Alana in the library and Jared and Alana with their heads bowed together at lunch. She finds a picture of them in the treehouse and texts it to them as a group, and things feel a little closer to okay.

After high school, things start to calm down, like an inflamed cut that needs to be soothed. She and Connor stand in each other’s doorways until they have the courage to walk inside, and their newly-reinstated group chat keeps a steady flow of bad memes and musical theater jokes. It’s easier to breathe when she’s at school, easier to move and be. She’s used to being alone in a house full of people; being alone in a city of lonely people is close enough that the transition is almost nothing.

She misses everyone, though. Evan texts her pictures of the trees back home and around the community college, and Connor snaps Jared and Alana when they’re around. She’s the only one who left, this time around. Removed by physical distance rather than a measly year.

She gets home for winter break halfway through December, and an unusually warm one at that. Connor follows her up to her room, watching her unpack likely half in an attempt to give her some privacy from their parents.

“You seen Evan yet?” He asks at some point, once he’s grown bored of watching her fold clothes.

“No, not yet,” she replies with saccharine sweetness.

“You should,” he mocks in a similar tone of voice.

“I will.”

Their ridiculous miming comes to a halt when she withdraws a rattling bag from her backpack and throws it onto her bed. Connor dives forward, grabbing at it. “Is this-did you just throw nail polish?” He demands.

She looks him dead in the eye and does the same with her other bag.

“Dishonor on you,” he mutters, already unzipping it and rifliging through the colors with a clink each time. “Want me to do your nails? They’re looking…” he trails off, eyes dipping to her unpainted and bitten nails, worn down by her guitar strings.

“I could say the same to you,” she says. “Stones and glass houses, dear brother.”

“Point taken.”

They take the time to paint each other’s nails after dinner, sitting on their living room couch. Connor opts for a dark blue instead of his gala black, and chooses gold glitter for the upcoming holidays for Zoe.

“Please don’t get nail polish on the couch, Zoe,” her mother says as she passes by to go to the kitchen, and she and Connor lock eyes. He rolls his; she smiles tightly.

“You’d think she say it to me, given that I live here,” Connor whispers.

Her phone bzzs in her pocket, and instinctively she reaches for it, noting the way the golden glitter glints against the denim of her jeans.

Evan Hansen: gonna leave mom’s for a walk, you tied up?

She feels the corners of her lips twitch involuntarily. Yes, please. Ready in 10?

“I’m gonna take a walk,” she announces loudly enough her parents should be able to hear it from the next room. “It’s just Evan,” she adds in an undertone to Connor. “Want to come along?”

“Nope. Have fun, though, I guess.”

“So enthusiastic.”

Evan is waiting outside, bundled up in a scarf and parka. His eyes pinch at the edges like they always do when he’s tired; she surges forward and slides her arms around his neck, colliding with him softly so he lets out an oomph. She feels a kiss pressed to the top of her head a moment later.

“Hey,” she says, muffled into his coat. “You’re overdressed.”

“You’re underdressed.”

“Fleece is never wrong.”

“…I suppose you’re right?” And then, with some trepidation, “oh no. Not again.”

“I’m always right,” she says lightly, throwing him a smile so he knows it’s a joke. She reaches for his hand, tugging him forward lightly. “Heidi‘s doing well?”

“Well as always, yeah. Your family?”

“All…fine,” she says. “Just, y’know…stressed.”

“Mhm,” Evan hums, and she can tell he’s trying to say something, so she just squeezes his hand lightly and falls silent.

“Dad wanted me to go h–to Colorado,” Evan blurts. “For Christmas.”

She pauses a little at that, tugging his hand closer. “Oh?”

“Yeah.” He swallows gently, watching the sky with a ferocity she can barely remember him having. She sees the stars shine in his deep brown eyes, though they seem a little too starry to be reflection alone. He blinks rapidly. “Mom encouraged me,” he adds, “but I–Zoe, I couldn’t.”

“I don’t blame you,” she says, letting out a jet of breath. “I wouldn’t be able to either.” She lets her eyes drift upward and pulls him a little bit closer to her, wrapping her free hand around his arm. “Can’t,” she amends, all breath.

“He still doesn’t care,” Evan says, almost to himself. “He knows what I fucking celebrate, and he still doesn’t–care.”

“Yeah, well, he’s a dick,” Zoe says before immediately wishing she could take it back. That kind of bluntness helps her and Connor, but never Evan.

But Evan surprises her all the same. “You’re not wrong.”

A laugh bursts from her chest, and after a moment Evan joins her, albeit hesitantly. “Like I said,” she repeats, “never am.”

Evan’s ghand remains chilly in hers, despite his best attempts to keep warm with his jacket; she brings his hand over to hold it in both of hers, wincing a little as his cold fingers meet hers.

“How are you so cold all the time?” she murmurs, massaging over his knuckles with one hand.

“How is it for you?” He asks suddenly, his brain taking him in a whole new direction. Zoe isn’t phased by the topic change.

“It’s…like it always is,” she admits, her voice low. She pulls Evan’s hands closer to her heart, trying to convince herself it’s just to warm him up. “Better with Con, I guess. But it’s still…” she swallows roughly. “I feel like I can’t…breathe, sometimes.”

“Yeah,” Evan says quietly. “It can be hard.” He frees his hand, only to wrap it around her shoulders. She steals his other hand as soon as they get situated in a good walking pace.

Almost nothing about Evan is calm, but he’s calming all the same. He’s all Zoe can think of as they turn in front of Ellison State Park.

Evan stills, and Zoe keeps walking forward for a moment, accidentally tugging at their conjoined hands. She looks back at him immediately, tone filling with concern. “Everything okay?”

“Is that…” he mutters, before surging forward and pulling her rather than the other way around. “Alana! Jared!” He calls, uncharacteristically loud. And sure enough, in the distance, she can see Alana and Jared leaned over something just inside the bronzed gates of Ellison Park.

“Evan!” Jared calls, only to immediately get shushed by an old couple taking a walk around the park.

They hurry across the street, waving wildly to the single car that seems perplexed by their crossing, and Alana passes something to Jared before pulling them both into a too-tight hug that reminds Zoe of her mother.

When they pull away, she ruffles Zoe’s hair like she’s a little kid again. “There’s our city girl.”

“You should’ve joined me!” Zoe protests, already moving over to Jared to hug him.

Jared looks like he might shy away for a second, but he relents only a second later, a hug almost as tight as Alana’s. Zoe’s pulled away by a pressure at her leg, something soft poking through the tears and a panting noise. When she looks down, the downy face of a dog stares back up at her, tail wagging and tongue hanging out. Without thinking, she drops to the ground, offering him a hand as she balances on one knee. He nearly knocks her over a moment later when he bounds forward to lick her cheek and request pets. She looks back up at the obvious joy on Alana’s face.

“You adopted a dog??” She asks, remembering the powerpoint Alana made in middle school trying to convince her parents.

“Yes! We just got him this weekend and he’s already the best boy.”

The golden glint of a collar tag catches her eye. “Archibald? Well, aren’t you just a joy, Archie!”

“He doesn’t like Archie” Alana says a bit curtly, mid-coaxing the dog back towards her. She flips a few braids that had escaped her ponytail over her shoulder just in time for the dog to make a grab for them. She grins down at him before looking back up towards Zoe. “Is Connor around? I haven’t seen him in a bit.”

“Yeah,” Zoe says. “Here, I can…” She pulls out her phone to tell Connor to join them, making a silly face when the dog makes a u-turn to lick her cheek.

Connor Murphy: are you and hansen bein gross

Zoe: alana and jared are here dork

Connor: with archibald?

Zoe: how. how did you know this

Connor: lana and i have a snap streak of 150k. keep up

Zoe: side note do you know why she named her dog after an elderly british man

Zoe: and won’t let me call him archie

Connor: says archie’s a dumb name and she “thinks its refined”

Zoe: lmao k

“Connor should be by soon,” she relays, smiling back down at the dog. He takes a particular liking to her; she can’t quite get used to it. “You’re a good baby, aren’t you?”

Something occurs to her all of the sudden, and she pulls her phone back out.

Zoe: WAIT are you still by the house

Connor: just leaving why

Zoe: …yknow that old time capsule?

Connor: are you going to ask me to dig it up in mid december while you’re hanging out with our old friends so i can bring it to the park

Zoe: yes

Connor: you were put on this earth to test me

Connor: be there in 15

“He’s bringing something,” she adds, and ignores their curious looks in favor of the dog.

When Connor’s shape finally appears, it’s carrying a bag rather than a box. “It was shot,” he explains in an undertone once he gets close enough for Zoe to hear. He reaches out a hand and lands a spare pat to Archibald’s head. “Had to improvise.”

“Hey, Connor!” Alana says, almost too cheery. Connor raises a hand, plopping the bag in the middle of their circle but out of Archibald’s reach.

“We don’t want your weird sex stuff, Connor,” Jared says, and Zoe shoots him a glare.

“It’s the time capsule, actually, but thanks for the input,” Connor says before Zoe can speak.

A beat passes, no noise but Archibald’s panting.

“Oh,” Alana says after a moment. “Your parents let you keep that?”

“They didn’t know,” Zoe and Connor deadpan at the same time. Jared stifles something that sounds like a cough but is probably closer to a laugh.

Zoe looks at Evan and reaches out to lace their fingers together again. He looks around the group, studying each person’s face. “Should we…”

Jared reaches forward and overturns the bag.

Glitter is the first thing Zoe sees; she hears Evan hiss “shit” as it explodes everywhere over the grass. It’s green, which makes that portion of grass look unnaturally healthy and shiny. Jared looks up; some had reached his glasses lenses, as he was the one to set the glitter loose.

“Alright,” he says. “Who put the glitter in?”

Alana grimaces and holds Archibald back from the pile of glitter. “I’m pretty sure that was you, Jared.”

“…Oh.”

Zoe leans forward, picking through the cacophony of items and silently handing them out. A few purple, pink, and blue friendship bracelets find their way throughout the group, and Connor even puts one on to a joke from Zoe about stealing the bi colors. Jared reclaims a few of the Connor has to make a quick grab for a few sheets of paper in the wind that turn out to be filled with his sketches. Zoe picks up a purple ukulele pick, feeling it slide between her calloused fingertips. She hands Evan an outdated pamphlet from Ellison State Park about their rangers program to Jared’s exclamation of “That’s what you put in??” and throws a few ballet ribbons and a small journal in Alana’s direction.

Jared’s makes her pause, and he takes advantage of the lull to surge forward and snatch the object from her hands. The silicone abides easily. “So that’s where I put my iPod!”

“Why did we let you do this?” Zoe says. “Why did your parents?”

“I’m gonna be honest,” Jared admits, examining it for quality. He looks up and around their assembled group. “I forgot about it immediately after burying it.”

Alana laughs first, and then she sets everyone else off, a group of college-age kids giggling over a pile of glitter and their childhood treasures in the park where everything began. Evan falls into Zoe’s side, unable to curb his laughter; she buries her own in the top of his head, his curls tickling her cheeks and making her laughs worse. And as they get dirty looks from everyone around them, the night only feels like another beginning.

#sincerely us #deh #dear evan hansen #bandtrees #evan hansen #zoe murphy #alana beck #connor murphy #jared kleinman #mine #deh fanfic

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fizzingwizard · 4 years ago

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Episode 32 arrives! It’s, I gotta say, quite an improvement on what we’ve had lately. Quite an improvement. Even so, it’s nothing that’s gonna rock the world... but hey, I was so desperate for something different to happen that y’know what, I’ll take it.

Pic of the week:

A Digimon who just wants to roll around in the grass. Go’way, baddies.

More below!

So as you probably gather... we start with Takeru this week! Haha! Good riddance Taichi! I luv ya but I’ve had enough of ya! Take a break!

jk I totally missed him the whole thirty seconds he wasn’t on screen

Takeru and Patamon are running for their lives, of course! Patamon makes a valiant effort to evolve to protect Takeru but...

... Poor baby. He gave it the ol’ college try but he just ain’t as young as he used to be.

Things look grim until Komondomon shows up with a creepy disembodied hand sticking out of his fur!

Phew, it’s just Sora. Her brilliant plan to rescue Takeru is to grab his arm and drag him along with them... I mean... sure... Whiplash has been proven Not A Thing in this universe so...

After getting rid of their pursuer, the group checks in with the others. I’m reminded of how silly separations feel when you can just communicate with each other by walkie-talkie. Yamato’s been riding Garurumon for a long time now lol. At least we got to see him...

He sweetly encourages Takeru and tells him the best thing he can do to help Patamon with his evolution issues is be there to support him. Then he tells Taichi “I leave Takeru in your case.” Ok sure, like Sora’s not right there...

Taichi: In my care? Should I point out that I already lost one little sibling to the dark side? Nah...

Seriously, though... that’s the current situation. Taichi is actively going over SkullKnightmon to get Hikari back. If Takeru stays with him that just means Takeru gets to go into danger again too. Of course, it seems that the dark side is suddenly uninterested in Takeru and Patamon so... I guess it’s okay 9_9

We then check in with Mimi! Who is being her awesome Mimi-tastic self. Ugh I love her.

Wondered what happened to Golemon. Turns out there was nothing much to worry about because no one loves a macho boxing match like Tachikawa Mimi. If there’s ever a season where these kids grow up, I hope Mimi is like, a big fan of sumo or something.

Taichi: O... kay... well... Mimi sure is... an intersting person...

Agumon: Hey you should make her your girlfriend!

Taichi: what nOOO BAD IDEA ABORT ABORT

Meanwhile, the situation with Jou is, um, questionable to say the least...

(how is keeping that towel on)

Jou: HEEEEELP!!!

Taichi: ... you didn’t hear anything, did you? Me neither. *closes link*

Finally we check in with Koushirou. I’m sure I don’t need to tell you what he says. -__-;

At least we see him get bombed a bit. He’s okay though.

Meanwhile unconscious Patamon gets a visitor from baby angel Lopmon, who tells him about hist lost memories.

He adds that the other legendary warriors have lost their power and it’s up to Patamon and his bond with Takeru to save the world more or less.

He encourages Patamon to find his hope.

Patamon: Who am I? What am I? All before me is dark. I know not what path to take.

The others, having nothing better to do, peep on Patamon’s crisis of faith.

Takeru relates a story about learning to swim and being scared of the water, but Yamato stayed with him so eventually he was able to learn to do it. Aww. Not quite comparable to Hikari’s “I wet the bed and Taichi changed the sheets and then told our parents that he was the one that did it” from the 99 series but still pretty good.

The sweet moment is interrupted by a flash of light! Then dark! Then light! Then dark!

It’s another scary Digimon! Oh dear. It’s Kerberomon. A three-headed Cerberus as I’m sure you figured out. Once again, this show does not how to convey what the stakes are. After everything we’ve been through, it’s hard to take random nobody Digimon as serious as each episode wants us to take them... but it’s obvious from the build up here that Kerberomon’s going to be tough to beat for Reasons.

Greymon gets hit and says, “I let down my guard!” MAYBE DON’T DO THAT THEN

Also it is very windy.

Le ouch. This is the Digimon from earlier whose name I forgot to take down. He’s come back with his friend...

... Scarier-in-the-dark-mon.

They’re surrounded~ Oh noes and whatnot.

Taichi is a bit cool here, clinging to Komondomon’s helmet and directing the battle like a war general. Mostly he’s telling them how to avoid getting hit by Kerberomon’s powerful attacks but I like that we get to see him using his head like this.

What I think is happening here is, Komondomon isn’t as fast as the kids could be if they were on their own, so their speed is hampered and that plus the number of assailants makes this battle tough. I am sure we’re supposed to assume that the reason WarGreymon doesn’t appear is because it takes a lot of energy to bring him out, even though last time he appeared twice in the same episode -.-;

Sora decides to be useful and goes to help Takeru get to safety.

... She is immediately struck by an attack and collapses, badly hurt somehow. This is so dumb. First of all, they don’t even animate her getting hit. There’s a flash and then she’s down. She should at least get to throw herself over Takeru protectively or something. Geez. 90s anime did it so much better. She’s just standing there and gets hit. What, did she forget there was a battle raging around her?

Second, WE ALREADY HAD DAMSEL IN DISTRESS SORA. It was Jou’s motivation to be cool way back when this show was rather more interesting than it has been of late. Why do the boys need Sora to get SERIOUSLY INJURED to be able to fight?? WHY?? Like, Taichi gets caught in the line of fire ALL THE TIME, but he never gets injured to the point where he can’t continue on. (Except for that one time with Devimon but those were exceptional circumstances!)

Like, why are we making Sora so weak?? This is so unnecessary.

I guess Yamato was right by entrusting Takeru to Taichi instead of Sora though...

... Uhhh.... never mind X’D

Taichi: Whew... m-maybe no one saw that...

Our be-bibbed god reappears to offer sage advice.

Patamon recalls his final moments as Seraphimon... being enveloped into darkness.

This is cool - we see his angelic wings turn to demon ones briefly before he slides back to lower levels. Not sure if it means anything but we have been theorizing that Patamon could still be infected by the evil that wounded him in the past.

Patamon then recalls things that happened after he was reborn and I’m reminded for the billionth time how much harder the emotions around Angemon’s death hit in the 99 show...

Suddenly Patamon realizes - his hope is Takeru, and he is Takeru’s hope.

The boys put on their game faces. This is what I mean by Sora really didn’t need to get hurt here. I get that it gives Takeru a reason to be protective, but the thing that evolves Patamon is Patamon’s feelings, the same way Agumon’s feelings were what rescued them from Devimon etc. That’s an interesting thing about this show - the Digimon’s feelings seem as important to evolution as, if not more than, the kids’.

Patamon evolves!! Very creepily! But... not to Angemon!

He becomes Pegasusmon! Who... looks a lot bigger than I remember, even considering Takeru is very small... xD

So this is pretty cool! I’ve been wondering how on earth the show was gonna keep introducing evolutions after already using up so many key players, especially for Taichi. But it looks like Armor Digimon can appear, and that makes me think that we could see all kinds of evolutions for the entire team that we’ve never seen before. I like that idea, but I don’t really know if this show has time for it. Maybe it will just be Pegasusmon and Nefertimon who are available to Takeru and Hikari so the writers can preserve the angels for the most epic moments only. That seems the most likely way things will go here, and the only qualm I have with it is, they’ve played all of Taichi’s cards already, and he’s the main character. He has to have something else in the future...

He attac!!!!

Kerberomon doesn’t last long, although why is wholly inexplicable. What about Pegasusmon gives him the edge when MetalGreymon and Garudamon couldn’t handle it? Is it because he’s an Armor Digimon? That may be it but the show doesn’t bother to explain.

Another thing I’d love to see, if there are gonna be more than just one evolutionary tree for the partners, is the kids actually strategizing when they decide which evolution to use. One of the cool parts of Tamers was the kids actively supporting their partner with skill as well as heart. I don’t think that’s gonna happen in this season, but you know, a girl can dream.

Takeru: Hurray for murder!

The three Digimon work together to put the lid on Kerberomon. Garudamon has the coolest moment. Squash.

Taichi checks on Sora who seems fine now. Grrrrrrrrrrrr.

Aw, but these two really are adorable.

What a sweet ending card T_T I want more of these.

Okay so yeah, this episode was a much needed upper after the stream of “watch Taichi fight random forgettable monsters” episodes we’ve had lately. I’m glad we got it. I still, just, like, why can’t they get the emotional build up right?? I wouldn’t say 99 Adventure did anything insanely unusual in how it treated the various crises the kids faced, but it def did a better job than this show. In 99, they understood the importance of moments of reflection, of talking about things, of showing expressions and how other characters react... And I still feel like this reboot DID do that, at least somewhat better, in the beginning. Like what went down between Yamato and Taichi after Ogremon was killed. That was pretty good.

They’ve totally lost what makes Digimon great. I hope this episode is a sign that they’re gonna take it back, but, my heart just hearts y’all.

Next episode... I’m rather surprised since we are REALLY overdue some face time with Yamato, not to mention Mimi and Jou, but apparently we’re sticking with Taichi. At least it looks lke we’ll get some new plot stuff related to Hikari.

If this all leads up to something that makes sense, I will retract all my complaints, I swear. Except about the gratuitous nonstop fighting. But the rest, I will take back.

Taichi’s determined!! This is Digimon Adventure! Let’s go on a freaking adventure!!

#digimon adventure 2020 #digimon adventure:#digimon adventure reboot #digi spoilers #digimon #fizz watches digimon 2020

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maddiethebull · 5 years ago

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Satan (Obey Me!) - Prompt #9 - “I could quote a thousand poems, but none can describe what I feel.”

I’m BACK Y’ALL After some InTrOSpeCtioN and HeaLiNG and LoTS of CRyINg ;)

Sorry for my absence. I hope you like it and thank you for making a request! Requested by @l3v1sblog

Here’s a song to listen to while reading if you’d like: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_R0Ix90hFu8

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

You were cleaning around the lounge of The House of Lamentation, it was your chore for the day to help dust and reorganize whatever silverware or centerpieces that may be out of place. You always thought it was such a bore, you never found anything cool to talk about with the brothers while you cleaned there, unlike the many times you’d found an interesting book to talk about with Satan whilst you cleaned the library. Or the times that you found household items with huge bites taken out of them and asking Beel if he did it and him so innocently denying it… You were about to put some silverware away when something caught your eye, though, it was a red, leather bound book. There wasn't any writing on the cover, piquing your interest, so you opened it and the first thing you saw was a poem titled Suns and Seraphim dedicated to…… WAIT THAT’S YOUR NAME???. It read,

“Could seraphim descend to earthly ground,

For chance to brush thine lips with hues of rose;

Discard their grace and heav’nly guise, cast down,

They would; just as the sun is always bound.

The moon will rise upon the sun’s repose

With gifts to thee inside night skies of opal tone

Of diamonds who’s shine dare not oppose

That which resides in precious eyes, thine own.

Si j'avais été dans le royaume des cieux

Pour vous donner ces soleils souriants

Et regarder votre beauté,

Mon cœur volage me tenterait d'arracher

Mes ailes angéliques et descendre;

Je quitterais ce paradis creux pour être en Eden

Avec mon amant, Mon ange de la terre, vous.

(written by Madeline Melcher (me lol) I dont know french so I used a translator btw)

Your jaw dropped, who could have written this?? It popped up in your head that it was most likely either Lucifer or Satan, it definitely wasn’t Mammon, Levi, or Beel. The maybes were Belphie and Asmo, but the chances they wrote that were rather slim.

Curiosity killed the cat and you couldn’t restrain your fingers from flipping through the many filled pages of the notebook. Another page had read,

“I could quote a thousand poems, but none can describe what I feel when I’m with you. You are a glimpse of a Heaven lost to betrayal, a sun that, for so long, I’ve been missing. I promise, someday I’ll show you these and then I’ll take you on a picnic (maybe in the human world?).”

Involuntarily, a smile made its way to your lips and a blush to your cheeks until you heard a knock on your door, it was Lucifer,

“MC, Why aren't you cleaning?”

Your heart sped up, what if it was Lucifer who wrote this? You began stuttering, you liked him, sure, but not in the way these poems talk about. Oh god… what if you had to turn down the second most powerful demon ever? Oh lawd.

“MC, we enjoy having you here but if you don’t finish your chores and put down whatever book you're reading-”

A HUGE sigh of relief escaped you,

“So you don’t know this book?” You asked, still slightly on edge.

He answered, “How could I know what you’re reading? There's not even a title on it.” He sighed and stepped closer, he eyed the book and, “Is that Satan’s Journal? Oh dear, MC, I believe you’ve made a rather stupid mistake.”

Your eyes were open wide as you sat completely still and quiet staring at the book in your hands. Lucifer spoke up, seeing that you looked quite shocked and perhaps a bit scared,

“If you would like, I can put it back where it was. Though I will be giving you extra chores because it seems that you also know what you did was an invasion of my annoying brother’s privacy.”

You thought a moment then spoke,

“No, I don’t feel good about that… I think I should give it back to him. I don’t wanna lie to him.”

“If that’s what you would like to do then I am nobody to stop you, just be careful and if something happens then don’t refrain from calling me for help.”

“Thank you Lu-”

In a seemingly dejected and scoffing tone Lucifer said, “And do your chores.”

With that he left you all alone to contemplate a plan to give Satan his journal back. Your mind was clouded with a million thoughts, the most prominent one being ‘he really thinks of me like that?’ A brush of pink crept onto your cheeks, thinking of him writing these poems. Thinking of him thinking of you. You wished so much that you could just revel in these thoughts, but the issue at hand was that, like Lucifer had said, you invaded Satan’s privacy. ‘What if he doesn’t feel that way anymore...’ Excitement and fear mixed inside your mind making you feel overwhelmed. How would you go about this?

‘Maybe I can just leave it in front of his door with a note on it. But, no, what if someone else picks it up?’

‘I could just burn it and forget about everything…….. No, MC, that’s NOT what’s gonna happen.’

You thought and thought and came to the realization that the easiest and most moral way to take care of the situation was just to knock on his door and hand it to him. You would tell him what you did and apologize and it would go very super incredibly smooth… yeah. You picked up the book ad headed towards Satan’s room with conviction, ‘you can do this MC!’ you thought. But when you got to his room, you froze like Mammon’s credit cards.

You’d never felt more anxious in your life. You liked Satan a great deal, he was handsome and charming, he had a soft side that he showed you often, he was wonderful. Even though these poems were made out to you, you felt as if it couldn't possibly be real. And moreover, this was the Avatar of Wrath’s personal journal that you had gone through... You breathed heavily to calm your nerves and gave yourself a mini pep talk. Then, finally, you meekly knocked on the door. Satan opened the door and saw you standing there, a smile crossed his face,

His blonde locks messily hung around his bright green eyes with a beautiful happy go lucky look in them,

“Hello, MC, find something interesting today? I certainly did and would very much like to give it to you.” A sweet chuckle ran off his words as he began to show you in but he froze and his expression changed drastically.

With his eyes open wide he asked while pointing to the book,

“What’s that?”

Stuttering and mumbling, fumbling your words you managed to get out a small “I’m sorry”

Silence. Silence that was louder than the rumble of a volcano.

He cleared his throat,

“Did- did you read it?” his eyes fixated on the book you held, he looked incredibly worried. You weren't looking at him so you could only assume that his visage was pure rage, something you, a mere human, were terrified of.

“I-I-I-I-”

You were cut off by a chuckle, although this time it wasn’t sweet, per say, more nervous. But through your ever amazing perception skills, you again thought he was angry with you and as he said,

“MC, I-”

You blurted out, “I’m sorry!” and ran away.

Your heart beat a million miles per hour as you hastily made your way to your room, locking the door and looking down to see that your dumbass TOOK THE BOOK. You were silent on the outside, but screaming like Hell on the inside.

Just then, a voice wriggled it’s way through the wooden door, it was Asmo.

“MC, do you think I could borrow your hair straightener? Mine broke and I can’t go anywhere looking like this!”

Shakily, you replied, “Sure, it’s just on my bathroom counter.”

He waltzed in all happy and pretty but the look on your face made him stop in his tracks,

“What’s wrong?” With those two words, you nearly burst into tears.

“Oh hun…” he said as he put a reassuring hand on your shoulder, letting you rest your head on his arm. “Why don’t we go to my room and talk about it? I’ll even give you a makeover, that’d be nice, yeah?”

You wiped the tears from your cheeks, “Yeah.”

You told him all about it as he did your makeup, making you feel slightly better, though, it wasn’t really the makeup, it was more seeing how much the brothers cared about you in times like this. He began to finish his own makeup as you sat down on the bed and your restless thoughts ran out of your mouth as if it were a marathon.

“And he got angry at me, I can’t stand seeing him angry, and and-”

“MC, honey, calm down,” he said as he finished doing his eye makeup, focusing on his reflection in the vanity mirror.

“How can I? These poems, they’re beautiful but I just read his journal without asking and I feel so horrible about it. And I’m really scared of him when he gets angry… I just don’t know if I can face him right now.” You flopped from sitting up to splaying out on the pale pink bedspread.

“You said the exact same thing just five minutes ago! You won’t get anywhere from repeating that.”

“UGH but it's all I can think about right now… What if he hates me because of this…”

Asmo let out a light chuckle, “He doesn’t hate you sweetie, I don’t think he can.”

You frowned, “You don’t know that.”

After a moment’s pause, looking at how distraught you were with the current situation, Asmo spoke again,

“MC, let me tell you a secret, I’ve been watching this whole thing unravel, I could sense rom com vibes since the day you waltzed in! You should’ve heard the way he talked about you, it was constant ‘MC this and MC that’ ‘Oh I made MC laugh today,’ ‘MC let me borrow her pen’ ‘MC asked me to get coffee,’” Asmo said while doing a ridiculous impression of Satan, “But you can’t tell him I told you this or he’ll probably string me up by the ankles.”

You chuckled and when your smile faded, Asmo looked you in the eye and said in a sincere voice,

“He likes you girlie, I would even say he loves you. I’ve never seen him care about someone so much. When I said I don’t think he can hate you, I meant it. So go back there and tell him what you feel, this is the climax of your love story! And believe me when I say a good climax can fix anything!”

“Asmo ew.”

“Hehe, too much?”

You looked at the red book cover, “He really said that?”

Asmo rolled his eyes with a smile,

“Yes! So what’re you waiting for?? I can feel the stress seeping out of you and it's not good for my skin.”

Meanwhile in his room Satan was pacing like a worried cat, mumbling to himself. ‘I knew MC didn’t feel that way…’ ‘How could I be so reckless? I left my journal in the dining room of all places!’ With a frustrated grunt, he brought his hands to his face, lowkey slapping himself in the face. He sat down on his bed and tousled with his hair, as he did so, his focus was taken by a single blooming Mirage Flower on his desk. He winced and flopped onto his bed face down. The sigh he let out after that held an almost tangible emotion of frustration. He was frustrated with himself, but also with you. He didn’t plan on you finding out like this and it made him feel, well, kind of lame. He imagined telling you many times, none were as embarrassing as you reading his journal. He wanted to sweep you off of your feet like a prince in one of Levi’s animes, with the flowers mysteriously blooming and all of that. He turned to the side, restless and angry with himself and again was there the flower he had secretly picked from Diavolo’s garden, only to give to you. His lips turned to a frown and he sat up again, taking the flower from it’s vase and like a child, he plucked each petal saying “MC loves me.” “MC loves me not.” As the flower diminished to just the stem he finished with “MC loves me.” ‘Hmph, I look like I’m losing it, don’t I?’ he thought. Still, this powerful demon’s heart felt aflutter from something as silly as the words “MC loves me” as he plucked the final petal from the pistal. Those petals that would soon dry out and crumble to dust reflected in his aquamarine eyes like lilies floating in a pond. His brow furrowed and he decided it best to lay down looking the other way.

You got off of Asmo’s bed, dropping the journal with the spine facing the ground, making it open to the last page that had only one sentence on it. Your heart beat sped up as you read the short entry and what you read was enough to make you happy for entire lifetimes.

“I've loved you every day before today and I will love you every day after.”

You didn’t know why, but it was enough to bring the hint of tears to your eyes. He really thought of you like that? Did you think of him like that? As intensely in love as these poems and pages had shown?

Now holding the book in your hands, looking at the same red leather cover but seeing something different. You smiled, and said “Yeah. I think I do.”

Asmo turned around with a confused look on his face, “You do what?”

A blush rose to your cheeks much like a rose in bloom,

“I love him.”

You left the room determined, set firmly on a path to Satan’s bedroom.

All alone in his room, Asmo chuckled,

“Have fun dearie.”

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

This was a long one, I wrote this over a long period of time and I changed it up a lot. I was feeling sad when I wrote a lot of this, so it’s a bit really sad and I decided to end it like this because it kind of felt right? Like instead of explaining the whole thing from beginning to end, it would be a better read and be a better experience for the readers to be able to imagine whatever ending they would like when confronting the character Satan. I’m open to writing an ending that includes MC finally confronting him, though, just say the word and I’ll finish the story in a different way :) Thanks for reading! <3

also as a BONUS:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=u9raS7-NisU this song is basically what Satan was thinking the entire time lmao

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