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beelzebuddy-catan · 1 year ago

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The Not Entirely Human-Human Exchange Student pt. 5

Summary: Cass is finally able to see what lies in hiding at the top of the stairs, but that may be the least of her troubles after Beel destroys her room. Warnings: Swearing, implied sexual content Spoilers: up to lesson six and Lilith's status Characters: Cass (OC), Lucifer, Mammon, Levi, Asmo, Beel, Lilith, Diavolo, Barbatos, Solomon, and Belphie. Notes: Belphie really thinking he was sly saying he was human as if there weren't pictures of him everywhere will never not be funny to me. Part One • Next Part

“Wait, Asmo, you have a pact with Solomon, don’t you? I actually have a question about how they function. When Solomon experiences lust, do you feel it?” Asmo’s eyes sparkled at the question, signaling Cass needed to cut off whatever train of thought he was having. “I don’t care when or why he experienced it.”

“Aww, are you saying you don’t want to know how the greatest sorcerer feels about you?” He glanced at the others’ faces before sighing. “Yes, I feel it. But not in the same way I normally feel lust. I can tell it’s coming from Solomon.”

“As in, you only have a pact with Solomon so of course it’s him or you’d know it’s Solomon regardless of how many pacts you had?”

Cass glanced at Levi who was blushing, head hanging down. “I’d know it’s Solomon regardless.”

“How?”

“It feels like him.” Asmo shrugged, a mischievous glint in his eyes. Cass knew he was intentionally being vague. Before she could press him further, he looked at Levi. “Why don’t you explain it, Levi?”

Levi buried his head in his hands, refusing to look up still. Cass could see the blush spreading down his neck. Mammon looked as confused as her, meaning she definitely hadn’t felt greedy since making her first pact.

“Again, no fun,” Asmo laughed. “You know part of the process when you recite Latin? That’s when the marks form. You have the physical reminder. For us demons, we have more of a spiritual mark. So, at least for us brothers, when you engage in our sin, we feel it through that mark.”

“I guess that makes sense,” Cass nodded. What didn’t make sense is why Levi was still refusing to look at any of them.

“The reason Levi is trying to implode right now is because it feels the same as when the mark was created.” He stopped, as if to create more tension in the hall. “It can be very erotic.”

>>🥇Demon: put on some pants, we need to talk.

Cass texted Mammon before walking to his room. After that breakfast, he’d been weird around her. When they’d get back from classes, he’d immediately excuse himself to his room and wouldn’t come out for dinner if she were there. Not that she was blaming him. If someone threw hot oil on her and threatened her, she’d probably be a bit weird around them.

Plus, it had been an overreaction. Maybe she should ask Satan what he did to control his anger when he snapped, if he could. Part of her felt like it was a good thing she had those reactions, at least with random demons. Rumors had started spreading about her and they made her seem more formidable than the normal human she was.

It’d been a little over a week since the incident. She took a deep breath and then knocked on his door, opening it before he had time to answer. He was lounging on his couch in sweatpants, looking at his phone. He looked up when she entered but didn’t look directly at her.

“What do ya mean, put on some pants? Who am I? Asmo?” He asked, but his tone lacked the same passion she’d become accustomed to.

“I didn’t know if you were in bed, I know you sleep naked.” He made a noncommittal noise to her comment before looking at his phone again. “I’m sorry.”

“What?”

“About the oil. That wasn’t cool. I don’t have a lot of things here, so I panicked when I couldn’t find the necklace. Then I realized you’d taken it and was a bit blinded by anger.”

Mammon shut his phone off before tossing it on the couch next to him. He leaned forward, putting his elbows on his knees. He took a deep breath and started laughing. The laugh echoed around them, calming some of the nerves Cass had when she’d walked into the room.

“Why are you laughing, asshole? I’ve been freaking out all week thinking you were pissed at me!”

Mammon shook his head and stood. He quickly closed the distance between them, wrapping his arms around Cass. Without hesitating, Cass returned the hug. Something told her Mammon had been stressed about that day too and needed this to calm his nerves as much as she did.

“I was tryin’ to give ya space because I thought you were still mad. I thought I fucked up and you weren’t going to want to see me,” he paused, taking a deep breath. “I don’t think I can say this if I’m looking at ya, but I realized how important ya are after not talkin’ to you. It scares me how much I care about ya and how much it makes my day when yer around.”

Cass couldn’t respond if she wanted to, as a lump formed in her throat. She just tightened her arms as she focused on Mammon’s heartbeat. It’s not that she felt lonely before, but something about his words made her realize that she’d never found any stability after arriving. Mammon saying that was like seeing a lighthouse after she’d been lost at sea.

“Of course, you feel grateful that the Great Mammon cares about ya,” Mammon coughed, trying to save any face in the moment.

Cass finally let go, blinking up at him. “Promise me if you don’t know how I’m feeling you’ll ask me instead of just assuming, that way we can talk it out? Of course, I’ll do the same.”

“Yeah, fine, whatever ya want,” Mammom answered, running a hand through his hair, face still burning red. “So, what have you been doin’?”

She laughed at the horrible segue but began telling him as they sat down on the couch. They spent the next hour or so talking before Mammon grabbed two sodas and handed one to her. He proceeded to tell her about a new money-making opportunity and refused to listen to any concerns she voiced.

She took a sip of the soda, coughing as soon as she registered the taste. “Ugh, what is this?”

“Hibiscus Pomegranate. I gave you that one since it’s the most popular flavor.”

Cass glanced at the label of the soda Mammon was holding. While she’d never had blushberry before, she’d imagine blushberry mango would have been more enjoyable. Part of her wished Mammon had given her that one instead but shook the thought from her head.

“Here’s why this is a fool proof plan. If anything happens to you, it ruins this exchange program, right? So Diavolo and Lucifer will do anything to make sure –” Mammon was cut off by her phone going off. “Seriously? Who leaves their phone on full volume especially for texts?”

Cass ignored him to open the message. Her eyebrows knit together in confusion. Even after making a pact, Levi didn’t talk to her much. Mostly, he would send her recommendations about media to consume, but it was rarely more personal.

<< Levi-a-DAMN!: Is everything okay?

What the hell had prompted that? Mammon had a look of equal confusion on his face as he looked at her phone over her shoulder. She responded yes and set her phone down, deciding if it was something serious, he’d follow up.

“Since when does Levi check in with you?”

Cass paused. They hadn’t told anyone about the pact. Levi had asked if they could keep it secret for a while. It’d been easy enough to hide the pact mark. Since it was always cold in the Devildom, she normally wore long sleeves anyways. She gave a noncommittal shrug hoping he’d ignore it.

“Were you hangin’ out with him this week or something?”

“Why are you jealous?” She laughed.

“Course not. What do you think the Great Mammon couldn’t find anyone else to keep him company. I bet I could even find a new human like that.” He snapped his fingers in front of her face.

Cass knew he wasn’t serious. But she felt a twinge of jealousy and hurt at the idea. It’s not like he was entirely wrong. There wasn’t anything particularly special about her. He probably could easily find a more remarkable human that fast. The thought was followed by another text.

<< Levi-a-DAMN!: What the hell is going on?

Weird, it’s almost like Levi knew the exact moment she reacted to Mammon’s comment. As if he knew how she’d felt. She gasped, looking down at her phone and back at Mammon. Could they feel it when she experienced their sin how because of the pacts?

“Mammon, if I feel greedy, do you feel that?” Mammon stared at her, still confused by what was happening. “Through the pact, do you know when I experience greed?”

“I don’t know, have ya felt greed since you’ve been here? Wait, wait, wait. What’s that got to do with Levi’s messages?”

Neither moved for what felt like an eternity but was really only a second. Before Cass could even attempt to move, Mammon had already pinned her down on the couch. She considered fighting him but knew it was pointless.

“When the hell did ya make a pact with him?” Mammon demanded.

“Who says I did?” Cass snapped, hoping to keep the secret a little longer until Levi was ready. Mammon tugged her sleeve down to reveal Levi’s pact mark. It was opaquer than it had been before she’d arrived at Mammon’s room. It also had a luminescent quality to it. “Fine, the day of the TSL quiz. But Levi didn’t want people knowing yet.”

“OF COURSE, HE DIDN’T,” Mammon yelled, jumping off the couch. “Do you know how much shit they gave me after making a pact with you?”

Before Mammon had a chance to find Levi to confront him, Levi was already storming into Mammon’s room. Mammon shoved him back into the hallway as he started to yell at him. Even without knowing the context Levi immediately started hurling insults back at Mammon.

Cass groaned, following them into the hall. Levi never really needed to know Mammon’s reasons for fighting or have a reason himself, he always took the opportunity when it came. They were loud enough that they had caused Asmo to stick his head out of his room. Always the purveyor of drama, he watched with rapt attention.

“Are we fighting over Cass? I’d like to be considered,” he winked at her from across the hall.

“NO!” Mammon and Levi stopped arguing long enough to shout at Asmo. Cass tried not to take the reaction too personally.

“Oh boo, you two are no fun. Cass deserves better. You can always come to me if you need something, Cass.”

Cass could tell Levi was getting more upset and worried about him snapping. She hadn’t put much thought into it at the time, but after the quiz, Satan had made a passing comment that they were lucky Levi hadn’t summoned something. She can’t imagine Lucifer would be too thrilled if that happened now over something this stupid.

“Enough.” She yelled, stepping between the two.

Mammon, who had been given an order through the pact before, grumbled under his breath when his body went rigid. Levi, on the other hand, wasn’t prepared. He stumbled backwards, slouching against the doorframe.

“Oh, and here I thought you didn’t want to make any more pacts.”

Cass ignored the comment, knowing it wasn’t worth delving into further. “Wait, Asmo, you have a pact with Solomon, don’t you?” She walked over to where he stood.

“Hoping he’ll give you some tips on how to make one with me? I’m not as easy as these two.”

Mammon and Levi scoffed at the implication, slowly regaining control again. Because Mammon always had energy to spare, he crossed over to Cass and Asmo. Levi sank to the floor, exhaustion taking over from fighting the command.

“You’ve made it very clear where we stand in terms of a pact. I actually have a question about how they function. When Solomon experiences lust, do you feel it?” Asmo’s eyes sparkled at the question, signaling Cass needed to cut off whatever train of thought he was having. “I don’t care when or why he experienced it.”

“As in, you only have a pact with Solomon so of course it’s him or you’d know it’s Solomon regardless of how many pacts you had?”

Cass glanced at Levi who was blushing, head hanging down. “I’d know it’s Solomon regardless.”

“How?”

“I guess that makes sense,” Cass nodded. What didn’t make sense is why Levi was still refusing to look at any of them.

“The reason Levi is trying to implode right now is because it feels the same as when the mark was created.” He stopped, as if to create more tension in the hall. “It can be very erotic.”

That did explain his reaction, though Cass couldn’t help but roll her eyes. Even after sleeping together, Levi couldn’t look at her, let alone tell her what was happening. Asmo was practically walking on air when he crossed over to Levi before trying to get him to loosen up.

“Levi, I think you should embrace it! I know how good it feels. And what’s even better, is you know Mammon hasn’t experienced it since Cass is only now asking!”

“Hey! Who’s to say I haven’t? Maybe I just didn’t say anything about it?”

Mammon joined Asmo, which only lead to more arguing. Cass rolled her eyes, deciding to just leave and let them deal with it. She still had to give Lucifer the vinyl record Levi had lent her. She grabbed it from her room before going to his office.

Cass knocked gently but didn’t hear a response. She was certain he’d said something about going to his office after dinner. Maybe he hadn’t heard the knock. She raised her hand to knock again when the door swung open.

Judging by the look Lucifer gave her, he’d either expected one of his brothers or had heard them arguing upstairs. The look softened slightly before he stepped to the side and let her enter. Lilith was perched on the back of one of the chairs in front of the fireplace, watching with a look of glee.

“What can I help you with, Cass?” Lucifer asked, sitting back down at his desk.

“Mammon mentioned that you liked listening to cursed vinyl records, so I borrowed this from Levi for you.”

Cass held the TSL soundtrack out for him to take. He took it cautiously before inspecting it. Maybe he thought she was trying to trick him. Which in a way, she was, just not that way. She saw the hint of a smile before he spoke.

“I’ve been asking Levi to lend me this record for years. Why is it he would lend it to you?”

“I think you underestimate how much people like me.”

He waited, unamused, for a real answer. She’d let Levi tell him, since he was the one who cared about keeping it quiet in the first place. She suspected he already knew though. Lucifer always seemed to know what was going on before anyone else in the house.

“I’m exhausted, so I’ll see tomorrow.”

As Cass turned to leave, Lucifer cleared his throat. “Thank you, I’ll be sure to take care of it.”

---

It felt like hours before the house quieted down and Cass could pick up the sound of music coming from Lucifer’s office. Lilith confirmed that he was engrossed in the soundtrack before Cass crossed the house to the secret staircase.

Lilith watched her carefully walk up the first few steps. It seemed too easy to simply walk up the stairs after the effort Lucifer had put into making sure she didn’t go up there. When nothing happened, she rushed the rest of the way up, not wanting to get caught now.

There was a small landing at the top of the stairs and a single room. Cass tried opening the old iron door, but found it was locked. Not surprising. There were gaps between the door’s details, but she wasn’t sure she could reach through them. The room behind the door was dark enough that she couldn’t even begin to make out details of what Lucifer was keeping hidden.

“Is someone there?” A voice called from the darkness.

Cass jolted back from the door, hand flying to her mouth to make sure she didn’t make too much noise. It sounded like someone was moving before a switch flipped. An orange glow was cast over the room and the person who had spoken.

The room itself actually looked quite comfortable. She could see a large bed with fluffy pillows. Plush rugs were placed on the wood floor and fresh plants were growing in various places. She could make out a door on the other side that she assumed was a bathroom. Books lined the shelves, and the room was decorated thoughtfully.

Whatever Lucifer’s reason was for keeping someone locked inside, Cass couldn’t help but think it was done out of concern instead of malice. Almost as if he was locking the person inside to keep them away from someone, rather than others safe. Regardless of the intent, Cass was starting to think she needed to talk to the brothers about appropriate responses and actions.

Whoever was locked in the room had sat up on the bed to turn the light on. He blinked at Cass, eyes still adjusting to the light. He still looked half-asleep as he crossed to the door. His posture was almost as bad as Levi’s. He was probably close to Satan’s height, but if he stood straight, he would probably be taller than Lucifer.

It took her a moment, but she realized she’d seen him before. It was the other person from the picture in the entry way. The one who had been slumped against Beel. The final brother, the avatar of Sloth. What was his name again? She’d seen it here and there on things like documents or social media posts.

“Are you human?” His voice was gravely from sleep.

“I am.”

“I thought I’d never see another human.”

Another? Had there been a human here before her or was he referring to Solomon? It seems unlikely Lucifer would let Solomon up here. Unlike the apathy he treated Cass with, Lucifer genuinely seemed to dislike Solomon.

“Are you a demon?” Cass asked.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” he scoffed. “I’m human, just like you. The thought of being one of them.” He didn’t finish the sentence, instead shivering.

Something was off about him. Even if she hadn’t seen pictures of him throughout the house, it was easy to tell he wasn’t human. Did he not know how rare it was for humans to be over 6’5? Luke’s words from when they first met suddenly came to mind. Never trust a demon. Time to see how much he was going to share.

“That demon Lucifer imprisoned me here. You’ve got to get me out of here, I’m begging you.”

“How do you propose I do that?”

“Neither of us can open the door, right? It’s sealed with a powerful type of magic. To break it, you need the consent of Lucifer and his brothers.”

“Oh, bummer,” Cass interrupted, “the sleepy demon is in the human world, so he can’t really help.”

The demon titled his head, confusion taking over his features. “Do you mean the avatar of sloth?” Cass nodded solemnly, hoping he continued to think she believed he was human. “That’s fine, it will still open with only the six.”

“Cool, should I just go ask?” Cass turned as if to go down the stairs.

“What? No! They won’t just agree, they’re not exactly nice. All you have to do is make pacts with them. It should be easy enough. You can start with Beelzebub. You can’t tell them you spoke with me though. Whatever you do don’t mention it.”

“Absolutely, wouldn’t think of it.”

The demon smiled. It would have been an innocent enough look if he really were a human hoping to get help. Knowing that he was lying though, it left her uneasy. He thought he’d gotten away with something. That he’d tricked a stupid human. Well, if he was going to play it that way, Cass was at least going to have some fun.

---

After returning to her room, Cass let Lilith know about the demon. After confirming Cass's suspicions that it was the final brother, Belphie, Lilith was completely on board with messing with Belphie while they figured out how to unlock the door.

Despite his suggestion, Cass wasn’t going to make pacts with the brothers with the sole intention of using them. The thought of that made her stomach turn. Especially considering she didn’t even know Belphie, and he was clearly trying to manipulate her.

On top of figuring out the new Belphie issue, she had stayed awake until the early morning talking to both Levi and Mammon about earlier. Levi, who was still thoroughly embarrassed, refused to listen to Cass’s reassurances that it wasn’t a big deal. The only thing she was really bothered by was how worried she’d gotten from his reactions when he was just horny.

Mammon was upset she’d never felt greedy. He denied that’s how he felt while also insisting it was not because he wanted to experience whatever Asmo was talking about. She, in his words, should be honored to feel greed.

The next morning, she wasn’t up for whatever ominous warning Lucifer was trying to give her when he told her curiosity killed the cat. She was so out of it, he ended up just telling her to stop snooping and be solely concerned with surviving the year so she wouldn’t die.

Not to mention, she’d gone down to get something to eat before Beel could finish everything before putting on her uniform shirt over the tank top she was wearing. Which lead to Asmo brushing crumbs off her chest. That, in turn, lead to Mammon yelling at him to keep his hands off her.

At RAD, Beel and Mammon had gotten into a fight over food. First Mammon had been annoyed Beel was trying to steal his food. Followed by him being offended because Beel didn’t want it if Mammon had made it. Ending with Beel eating the food anyways.

They only stopped arguing when Simeon invited them camping. As much as she enjoyed spending time with Simeon and Luke, the idea of going on a camping trip at that moment sounded like entering a new layer of hell. Fortunately, Simeon had more empathy than the brothers put together and could tell she wasn’t having it, so he let her know he’d text her the details later.

The day had ended with her trying to grab a book off one of the shelves in the library, only to fall because everything in the Devildom was just outside of her reach. Luckily, Beel had accompanied her to the library, so he was able to catch her before hitting the ground.

Unluckily, Beel wasn’t quite used to moderating his strength to accommodate for her being human, so dark bruises where he’d caught her were already forming. Beel’s quick reflexes coupled with her shirt becoming untucked, ended with him pushing her shirt up. Beel turned red when his hands landed just below her waistline on bare skin, as if he’d done something wrong, and wouldn’t look directly at her after.

It was past ten by the time she finally made it back to the House of Lamentation. She was close to passing out from exhaustion. It was one of the first weekends she had plans free. The idea of collapsing into her bed and sleeping for as long as possible Saturday helped her fall asleep before her head even hit the pillow.

---

“You’re certain you found her in Ancient Greece?” Solomon asked, looking at Barbatos quizzically.

“Yes, though I wasn’t able to determine much outside of that.”

“Do you think she’s involved with the Nephs?”

“We can’t ignore the possibility that she’s connected to the Fallen,” Diavolo said. “Or that she could be one of them.”

Solomon took a look at the documents Barbatos and Diavolo had gathered. If Cass truly was connected to them, they’d have known who she was. After all, Barbatos and Solomon had been some of the few that the Demon King tasked with concealing their identity.

“How would she have gone unnoticed?”

“You didn’t meet with all of them directly, correct?”

Solomon shook his head. They’d only meet with a few representatives at the time considering most of them had gone into hiding by the time the Demon King decided to intervene. They wouldn’t have kept the existence of one Neph hidden though. Would they?

“Have you asked Cate?”

“We’d like to avoid involving her as long as possible.”

Solomon looked up at Diavolo at the comment. While he understood the caution, it would be nearly impossible to find any information about Cass without involving Cate. Solomon wasn’t even sure he’d be able to contact any of them without Cate’s help.

“If she is a Neph, or just even connected to them, the chances of them disclosing any helpful information are,” Solomon trailed off.

“To us, maybe. But you.”

“I can’t say I’m on much better terms as of late,” Solomon muttered under his breath.

Solomon quickly departed after agreeing to try connecting with the Nephs without involving Cate. It wasn’t until he was at Purgatory Hall that he let out a sigh. If their suspicions were correct, he would need to tread carefully.

There had to be a reason Cass’s identity had been kept hidden if she was involved with the Nephs. Solomon had no intention of aiding Diavolo in discovering that reason. He also had no intention of telling Diavolo if he contacted the Nephs. At least not until he knew how to use that information.

---

It was dark when Cass woke up. The kind of darkness she’d learned was common around midnight. She fumbled for her phone or the lights. Her eyes never adjusted to this darkness. Before she could find her phone, however, the room started to fill with light.

Cass stood, crossing to the stairs, panic motivating her to move despite the exhaustion. Mammon practically flew into her room at the speed he was moving. He was yelling at her to run or hide or something. She couldn’t make out exactly what as Beel was on a rampage, destroying everything in his path.

The next thing she knew, the three of them were standing in Lucifer’s room being yelled at. She didn’t even have the energy to figure out what had happened. All she knew was Mammon did something to set Beel off and now she didn’t have a room. Bits of debris were still on her clothes.

“I’m so tired,” Cass said, cutting off Lucifer midsentence. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt this exhausted. Even her bones seemed to be tired. “I just wanted to sleep.”

Before any of the demons realized what was happening, she fell to the ground. Mammon could’ve stolen her wallet, Lucifer could’ve killed her right there, hell Beel could’ve eaten her at right then and she probably just would have let it happen.

“Cass, what are you doing?” Mammon whispered, as if trying to get her to stand up before someone noticed, even though they were all staring at her.

“I don’t care anymore. My bed’s ruined and I just want to sleep. Please, God, just let me sleep.”

Cass didn’t notice the grimace the brothers exchanged or the silent conversation that followed about what to do next. The dim light and heat caused by the fire felt like a warm embrace, pulling her further into sleep. Let them figure their own shit out for a while.

She woke up to the sound of Lucifer sighing. Judging by the fire, she’d been sleeping for at least a few hours that way. Had they really just let her sleep on the floor? “Beel, can you take Cass to your room? She can stay with you while we get the house fixed.”

“WHAT, NO!” Mammon shouted.

“This isn’t up for debate.”

Beel picked Cass up easily, leaving a disgruntled Mammon complaining in Lucifer’s room. Cass peaked at him before closing her eyes again. He didn’t look to upset about having to share his room, but there were definitely some conflicted feelings about the situation. Assuming she was already asleep, he set her down on one of the beds, moving towards the couch.

“Where are you going?” She asked, the words slurring together, still not fully awake.

“To sleep on the couch.” She glanced at the bed across from her and back to Beel. “That’s my twin’s, Belphegor.”

“I can sleep in that bed if you don’t feel comfortable.”

“No,” Beel said with a tone that left no room for discussion.

“Well, I’m not letting you sleep on the couch.” She pushed the covers off and sat up.

“I don’t mind. Plus, I don’t think Lucifer would like it if I made you sleep on the couch.”

“Either you sleep in your bed, and I sleep on the couch, or you sleep on the couch, and I sleep on the floor, the choice is yours.” Cass stood up, crossing her arms.

Beel’s eyes flicked between her and the couch, trying to figure out how serious she was being. Considering she had already spent part of the night on the floor, it really shouldn’t be that difficult to discern the truth in her statement.

“If you don’t want me to sleep on Belphegor’s bed, I can respect that. Why don’t we just share yours. It’s big enough for two people.” Before he could protest, she continued. “It’s either that or we spend the rest of the evening going back and forth about where to sleep.”

Eventually, Beel resigned. He laid stiff as a board on his back, as close to the edge as possible. Cass looked at the ceiling, thinking about how he’d acted when talking about Belphie’s bed. It’d been a similar reaction to when she first asked about the seventh brother on her second day here.

“You miss him a lot, don’t you?” Cass finally said. Her voice barely above a whisper.

Beel took so long to answer, Cass thought he had fallen asleep. “We’ve never been apart this long. Lucifer sent him to the human world with Diaval, another demon, as an exchange student.”

“You didn’t want him to go?”

“He didn’t want to go. Lucifer made him go.”

Cass rolled onto her side so she could look at Beel. “What’s he like?”

Beel smiled gently. “It’s funny, he’s kind of like the opposite of me. I mean, we were created the same day, which is why we’re twins, but we don’t act or look very similar. Our little sister Lilith used to think it was hilarious.”

“Lilith?”

Beel fell silent once more, lost in thought. “I don’t really want to talk about her.”

“I understand,” Cass whispered.

She may not know what exactly happened to Lilith or the brothers that led them here, but she knew it was painful. From what she could tell, it was a wound that never healed. Beel didn’t say anything else. She couldn’t even tell if he was awake still in the dark room.

“If you ever do, I’m always here to listen.” Cass isn’t sure what prompted her to say that, especially when there’s a chance, he didn’t even hear it. But she meant it.

Beel’s voice was so quiet, Cass almost missed it. The strain she heard on his voice, the weight of whatever he was feeling broke her heart. “I - thank you.”

#obey me #obey me oc #obey me fanfic #obey me lesson 4 #obey me lesson 5 #obey me spoilers #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me levi #obey me asmo #obey me beel #obey me belphie #obey me diavolo #obey me barbatos #obey me lilith #obey me solomon #obey me simeon

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justniaaa · 5 years ago

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Unravel Me (4)

Gif by: @blackisblackisblack

Rating 18+NSFW

Work Count: 3.4k

Pairing: Christopher “Rio” Martinez xblack!oc

Warning: Swearing, mentions of a gun

A/N: Hey my loves! I’ve missed you guys so much, so sorry for the late update. I’m not going to lie and say it wont happen again because it most likely will but I wasn’t expecting to be gone for so long. Anxiety/ Depression is a fucking bitch bro and like I said before even if my posting isn’t constant, I always want to make sure to give you guys content. Thanks for you for rocking with me and Enjoy chapter 4! Happy reading and please dont forget to like, comment and reblog <3

Summary: Toni forms an unsuspecting friendship with Christopher that turns into something more. As her feelings towards him continue to grow she starts to unravel the secrets that surround him and in return, he unravels her completely.

Chapter 4: Let the games begin

After the eventful night between Toni and Chris, it was like the days went by rather quickly and before she knew it, Friday was here and Toni’s nerves were coming along for the ride. When she came home that night and told her girls about what transpired with her and the mysterious business mogul they gave out beaming smiles and all three of them jumped around, excited that Toni was going out on a date. And of course, don’t even get her started on Aaliyah, the woman was more than elated, and every chance she got she made sure to bother Toni about her new “boyfriend.”

Toni was walking in from work at Print Monthly and let out a yawn. Working two jobs, and writing a new article was slowly catching up with her, but with enough caffeine, she thinks she could make it through. She took off her heels and placed her keys on the entrance table trying to stifle yet another yawn, that was on its way out of her mouth. As she went further into the apartment she didn’t hear any movement from either of the girl’s rooms so she figured she was home alone. Toni went into her room not caring to turn on the light since she had a small night light in the corner and shut the door. She dropped her purse on the floor and took off her clothes, only leaving on her bra and panties. Toni sighed and shuffled to her bed, face planting into it as she wrapped her sherpa throw around her body. Since the AC was fixed the day before her place was nice and cool and all she wanted to do was take a small nap.

But before she could float away to unconsciousness her door was rushed open and the light flicked on, “Oh no bitch, get up!”

Toni groaned hearing Rocky’s voice and covered her face with the blanket, wishing for a couple of minutes of sleep, “Antonia Kelis Thompson, up now!”

The blanket was ripped away from Toni, and she put her face into the pillow, “Just five minutes,” she groaned.

“No, get up! Sage made you a smoothie to help with your energy before she left for the grocery store and you need to drink it so we can get you together for tonight.”

Toni turned her head and looked at Rocky, she was standing next to her bed with her eyebrow raised and a hand on her hip and the other was outstretched with said green smoothie in her grasp.

“It’s only six Rocky, we meet up at nine.”

True to his word, Chris hit her up and they set up a time and place to meet up, the place being an escape room to which Toni was particularly thrilled about. She had always wanted to go to one and she vaguely remembered mentioning it to him on one of their morning talks at the cafe. After they arranged their night out they continued texting each other throughout the day and it felt good to have that feeling of giddiness whenever she heard her phone ding and it possibly being him.

Toni huffed and sat up, sitting cross-legged on her bed and took the drink from Rocky’s hand. Taking a few sips she scrunched up her face from the taste but soldiered on when she saw the look Racquel gave her. When she finally finished the last bits of the smoothie, she put the glass on her nightstand and turned back to her friend.

“All finished, what’s next on the list warden?”

Racquel rolled her eyes, “So damn dramatic, go take a shower and I’ll dive into that mess you call a closet to find you something to wear.”

Toni stretched her limbs as she stood up from the bed while Rocky shooed her to the bathroom grabbing her towel from the back of the door in the process.

“And don’t forget to shave bitch!” Rocky yelled out.

“I shaved my legs yesterday, why the hell am I going to do them again?” Toni said poking her head out from the doorway, her confusion was evident.

“I’m not talking about your legs, girl,” Raquel said, winking. Toni didn’t plan on sleeping with Chris tonight but with how crazy the attraction was between them anything was possible. So with understanding and gratitude, Toni simply nodded and backed into the bathroom, closing the door and getting to work.

After the long half-hour of exfoliation, shaving, and showering, Toni came out of the bathroom feeling fresh and squeaky clean and walked into the sight of her bed strewn with clothes. She took in the sight of her best friends arguing with a piece of clothing in their hands about which outfit would work best. She chose to ignore them knowing that whatever they picked would be applicable and tightened the towel on her form, going to her vanity to do her makeup and hair. The girls interrupted her a few times showing her what they chose and Sage helped Toni curl her hair in the back. Music and bouts of laughter were heard throughout the home and the minutes ticked by getting closer to when Toni was deemed to leave. She was just putting on her light blue jeans when her phone went off, interrupting the song that was playing on her Bluetooth. Rocky and Sage continued talking about whether she should wear heels or sneakers, and Toni finished buttoning her pants walking over to her device. The name Chris was on her screen, and before the voicemail picked up she answered.

“Hello,” she said.

“There she is, thought you weren’t gonna answer,” Chris’s smooth voice came through the phone, making Toni’s stomach flutter with butterflies. She could vaguely hear noises of machinery in the background but she didn’t think anything of it because as quickly as the noise came it was gone, like he went into a separate room.

“I mean I didn’t have to pick up, especially since you're interrupting me getting ready for my date,” Toni sat down on the bench at the end of her bed.

“Oh, word? Who’s the lucky man?”

Toni looked down at her nails, “Some guy I met a couple of weeks ago, he ain’t all that but I decided to have mercy and give him a chance.”

Chris laughed into the receiver, “I bet he’s hype as fuck to take your pretty ass out.”

Toni shrugged like he could see her, “I mean, I am kind of great.”

“That you are Antonia, that you are.”

Toni covered her mouth with her fingers, trying to control the megawatt smile that was threatening to break out. They knew each other barely a month and already the way Chris made Toni feel was slightly alarming. “Is everything okay though, because if you need to change the time or something that’s fine.”

“Nah we good, just wanted to check up on you. And make sure I wasn’t gonna do an escape room by myself.”

“No worries, I’ll be there,” Toni said grinning.

“Aiight, so I’ll see you soon yeah?”

“Yes, sir nine o’clock.”

Chris chuckled, “Aight mama, later.”

Toni hung up and put her phone back on the charger, “I’m guessing from all the flirting we just heard, that was him,” Sage asked.

She shook her head, “Yeah, he was calling to make sure we were still on tonight.” Toni went and looked at the shoe options they picked out, thankful that her friends lended out a helping hand.

“We think the all-white Nike’s would look great with your outfit. Plus it will give your feet a break from the heels and you can run around as you play the game with your boyfriend,” Rocky smirked when Toni gave her a dirty look at her use of the “B” word.

“I agree,” she told them. After bending down to put her sneakers on, Toni stood up and examined her outfit in the mirror, liking how it looked. The white bodysuit accentuated her curves and the light blue jeans and sneakers really brought everything together, making her feel comfortable but be cute at the same time. Toni sprayed her perfume and got her crossbody bag and phone, listening to her friends give her a pep talk as she walked to the front door.

“We put some wipes in your bag and some mints as well just in case your breath gets hot,” Sage said, following behind Toni.

“Oh yes and some pepper spray if he decides to get handsy,” Raquel continued, bringing up the rear, “You never know he can turn into an asshole when the clock strikes twelve.”

Sage gave Rocky a glare and nudged her, “I doubt it will come to that, Racquel but it is always good to be safe.”

“Yes, it is,” Rocky grumbled, rubbing her sore side. Sage may be small but her elbow had some power behind it.

Toni turned to them when they reached the door, “Thanks guys for all the help.”

“We got your back girl, you know that.”

“And have fun tonight please, you deserve it and it will do you good to get some dick. It might help you stop being so damn uptight.”

“Sage!” Toni gasped, hitting the girl’s arm while Rocky stood next to her nodding in agreeance.

“I can’t stand you guys.” Toni picked up the keys she left on the small table by the door and opened her arms, “Alright give me some loving.”

They all came in for a group hug, just like they always did back in college, “Love you hoes,” Toni murmured.

“We love you too,” Sage and Rocky said together.

*****************************************************************************************************

Pulling into the parking lot Toni texted Chris letting him know she had arrived and while she waited on his reply she stared down at her phone and went through her social media. Suddenly a knock on her window made her jolt in the seat and look up with a hand to her chest. She let out a breath when she saw it was Chris at her window, his eyebrow raised and his mouth curved into a smirk.

“Geez Chris, you scared the shit out of me,” Toni exclaimed through the closed window.

She reached next to her, to get her purse and took her keys out of the ignition, placing them and her phone into her bag. She unlocked the door and he opened it for her, a smile still residing on his lips, “My bad ma, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

Toni side-eyed him as she got out, “Liar, you know damn well it’s too dark for your ass to be playing games.”

“Oh shit, don’t tell me big bad Antonia is scared of the dark.” Chris closed her car door behind her and Toni hit her key fob locking the vehicle. They began walking through the sparsely lit up parking lot, heading towards the building that had MadeYa Look Escape Room in bright lights at the front.

“Listen, frightening things live in the night, so don’t shame me.”

Chris chuckled as they walked side by side, his hands behind his back, “Nah, no shaming here baby. I used to be the same way, years ago.”

Toni felt a jolt at this new nickname, she hadn’t been called baby from the opposite sex in years and it made her feel warm inside to be hearing it from him. Toni decided to play it cool and not show how much the term of endearment affected her, but she secretly promised herself she would gush about it later in the privacy of her home.

“What made you stop being scared?” Toni asked as they finally reached the entrance.

She went to open the door but his ring covered hand was suddenly on top of hers, making her palm sweat on the cool metal of the handle, “When I became the scary thing to the monsters.”

Toni noticed the sudden shift between them as she gazed into his dark brown orbs. You would think after a statement like that she would be afraid but she felt perfectly fine, safe even. She didn’t know what to think about that, so she intended to not think about it at all.

“I forgot to tell you earlier but you look beautiful,” Chris said, his eyes not leaving hers, he was close enough that he could hear her breath stutter but didn’t comment. Toni bit her lip and pushed a piece of hair behind her ear.

“You got your nose pierced,” she said, surprised. Toni saw the faint glint of the piercing from the glare of the lights and even though she never dated a guy with one it was different and it fit him perfectly.

Chris took note of the change of subject but he nodded anyway and ran his tongue across his bottom lip, making it shine, “You like it?”

“It’s cute,” She said with faux disinterest. Just like last time, with the close proximity they were in Toni could smell his cologne that was dark and subtle. They would kiss if she stood on her tiptoes.

“You ready for me to whoop your ass in this game?” Chris teased, and just like that the spell was broken and the light-hearted flirting came back into play.

Toni scoffed, grateful for the break from the tension “Please, the question is are you ready?”

With her hands still encompassed in his, they both opened the door and went to the front desk to pay and get instructions. The brunette clerk who they later learned was named Debbie was none the wiser to the something that transpired moments before, as she explained rules and questioned which room they wanted to play. While the middle-aged woman was talking, he had his hand rested on the small of Toni’s back and tried as she might she couldn’t focus on anything else but the heat of his palm. Luckily, another couple came in after them and they were able to play against the pair in the zombie apocalypse escape room. Before the game started Toni and Chris set up a bet for whoever solved the most clues even though they were on the same team. Toni ran her hand through her loose curls to put her hair up in a ponytail waiting for the countdown and noticed Chris’s outfit, “You don’t think you’ll get hot running around in your jacket?”

As per usual Chris was clad in all black but he had on a jean jacket over a black shirt this time rather than a regular button-up.

“I’m straight,” Chris said nonchalantly. Before she could interrogate him further, Debbie’s voice came onto the intercom letting them know she was starting the countdown. Quickly, ten seconds turned to one, and the game began.

*****************************************************************************************************

The couple walked out of the room breathless and delighted with how well the game turned out. They beat the newlyweds by a landslide with one minute to spare, and unfortunately to Chris’s exasperation, Toni solved most of the clues and now she had full reign over tonight.

“Congrats guys!” The clerk complimented as she handed them two free t-shirts for winning and even offered to snap a picture of them to put on their winner board. Chris declined grumbling about how he hated taking pictures but of course, when Toni gave him puppy dog eyes and reminded him she was the captain of tonight he grudgingly relented. Only on the grounds of them taking the photo on their personal phones and that Toni promised not to rag on him the rest of the date.

Toni gave the woman her phone already opened to the camera app and they both took their place in front of the winner’s board. She didn’t know where to position herself, not wanting to be too much in Chris’s personal space if he wasn’t comfortable with it, but he made the decision for her when he put his arm on her shoulders and brought her in close, making Toni’s palms sweat. She quickly decided to wrap her arms around his waist praying he couldn’t feel her heart practically beat out her chest when she leaned against his side. They both looked at the camera with big smiles earning an “Awww you two are adorable!” from Debbie.

As Toni went to pull away, she brushed against something solid and what felt oddly like steel under his jacket. Stepping back Toni pondered over the fact that the object that she touched was most likely a gun and that was probably the reason why he didn’t want to take off his jacket before the game.

“Here you go hun,” Debbie said, passing Toni her phone.

Toni graciously thanked her while she took the device and tried to school her features. She knew people had guns, even her father had some locked away at his house but something about him hiding it made her stomach roll.

They went out into the cool night and Toni walked next to Chris quietly still thinking, “So where to boss, since you running shit now.”

A beat passed and she could see Chris in her peripheral take a look at her, wondering why she wasn’t responding.

“You good mama?” He inquired.

She was acting like such a dumb ass, it wasn’t like he was her boyfriend he didn’t have to necessarily tell her why he had a gun and she was fine when he told her the monsters were afraid of him. So why did the gun affect her so much?

Toni looked over at him seeing his brows knitted in worry and decided to push the issue aside for a second. “Yep, but the real question is are you good after that ass whooping I gave you? Mr. I’m gonna win just watch.”

Chris groaned, “I thought you promised you wasn’t gonna flame me.”

“Obviously I lied, I just wanted you to stop whining and take the damn picture.”

“Nah, I just think you wanted a pic so you could look at it and fantasize about me all the time.”

Toni snickered and pushed him, “Please, don’t flatter yourself.”

They were still talking when they finally reached her car. Toni leaned against her door, she could see his Range a couple of spaces from hers. “So what now Antonia?”

He asked while he stood in front of her, his hands in his pockets.

“Not sick of me yet?” Toni wondered, tilting her head.

“Never that darlin’.’”

Toni cleared her throat feeling her cheeks burn, damn him, he knew exactly what the hell he was doing. Not wanting to put it off any longer she made the choice to just ask him about the gun, not wanting to proceed with the night without being in the know. “Can I...ugh this is probably so stupid but can I ask you a question first before we leave here?”

He straightened when he heard the way she stuttered like she was worried about questioning him, “Go ahead.”

Toni crossed her arms, “You can tell me it's none of my business and honestly it’s not that big of a deal but is there a reason why you didn’t want to tell me you were carrying a gun? I felt it while we were taking the picture.”

She was expecting him to get upset about her interrogation but his posture went lax, seeming happy that that was what she wanted to ask.

“I didn’t say anything ‘cause I wasn’t sure if it was gonna freak you out. I use it for protection only and I should have told you instead of assuming.”

Toni sighed and rubbed her forehead, “No, I apologize it just took me by surprise is all. I knew someone that carried and it always seemed like he used it more to showcase how much of a dick he was rather than use it as a safety precaution.”

“Hey,” Chris raised Toni’s chin, making her focus on him. “Don’t ever be scared to ask me somethin’. Even if I don’t like the question, imma always try and give you as much of the truth that I can, aight?”

“Okay,” Toni said.

“Okay,” Chris dropped his hand and grabbed Toni’s holding it in his grasp, still looking at her, “So we gonna chill in this parking lot all night or we gonna go to the next spot?”

Toni lightly squeezed his hand with a mischievous glint in her eye, “I know the perfect place.”

“Aiight then,” Chris walked to the passenger side of her car waiting, “Let’s go.”

“You’re not gonna drive your car?” Toni wrinkled her nose, puzzled whilst unlocking the car.

Chris opened the door and simply said, “Nope I trust you,” before getting into the vehicle leaving Toni speechless.

Toni let out a harsh breath and whispered “This man is too fine,” getting into the car as well. It seemed like their night had only begun.

Tag list: @aria725 @kikilovesdankmemes @briannab1234

#manny montana imagine #rio good girls #rio good girls imagine #rioxoc #rio x black!oc #rioxblack!oc fanfic #nbc good girls #chapter 4 #unravel me #manny montana #myfic

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kerikaaria · 4 years ago

Text

If I Never Met You: Chapter 21

(??? X Reader) Idol!AU, Manager!Reader

Genre: (PG13) Fluff and some angst

WC: 2.8k

Warnings: Vague description of anxiety and a mild panic attack

Series Masterlist

Chapter 20 | Chapter 21 | Chapter 22

It was time for the MMAs, and I can tell the boys feel really nervous. They hadn’t really stood out among other groups who debuted this year, and while they had a large enough fanbase, there was also a lot of negativity and criticism being aimed towards them – more and more every day it seemed. But they were still nominated for Best New Artist and Rookie of the Year awards at some of the shows. Which was the case for this first one, plus they’ll have a performance to do not long after that award is announced.

I made a deal with Jimin that he had to do his best to eat something before schedules, especially big events like these, and that when I asked him about if he ate he had to be honest with me. Luckily, he seemed to be keeping up with that so far, so I had hope that he’d get through his troubles eventually.

I paid attention to the television screen in the corner of our room whenever I could. It had honestly been my first time seeing one of these shows. I never had much interest in them back home, but I was actually enjoying what parts I could watch of it. I was familiar with most of the songs being performed, having heard them countless times during the boys’ own activities. And there were some really interesting special performances other groups had put together.

When it came around to the time when they were to announce Best New Artist, everyone in our room paused what they were doing to watch the screen closely. I started feeling my heart race. This was an award that every artist only had one chance at getting (per award show at least) so that made me feel more anxious of the result we were waiting for.

The woman on stage opened her envelope and paused only briefly before announcing the winner. As soon as she said “Bangtan Sonyeondan,” I jumped up and down, barely containing a scream from leaving my mouth. We could see how happy and excited they were as they made their way to the stage to accept the award, with Joonie giving a short speech before they descended.

They had to come backstage right after so we could get them ready for the performance, and I could hear them coming down the hallway. They were yelling in excitement and they all practically ran into the room one or two at a time.

“We got the award!” Namjoon exclaimed as soon as he entered.

Many people in the room, myself included, cheered or said words of congratulations as they each piled in.

Tae was the last to bound into the room, and he instantly found his way to me, practically knocking me over when he jumped to embrace me. “We got it, noona!” he said right by my ear, a little too loudly.

“Yeah, I saw,” I laughed. “Congrats, V.” I said with a smile as I gently grabbed his shoulders to move him away slightly before he could destroy my eardrum.

Staff around the room started approaching the boys with sound equipment to get them ready for their stage while the Bangtan Bomb cameras filmed them. The smiles on all their faces were as big as they could be, and I was so happy to see them like this.

After Jin was done getting set up for the stage and made sure the camera was focused on one of the members not close to me, he came over to wrap me in a hug too.

I chuckled as I returned the embrace. “Yes, Jinnie?”

“This is great,” he said. “I didn’t think we’d actually get the award. I’m so happy.” I could tell he was smiling by the tone in his voice as he rocked us back and forth.

“Yeah, I’m so happy for you guys,” I said. “Don’t forget you’re also up for the award a few more times too. Who knows, you might get another one.”

“That’d be crazy,” he said as he let me go.

The boys finished getting set up for their stage before leaving to get into their places. The stage was relatively short, only about five or six minutes. But especially after getting the award, it was meaningful. Not everyone got a chance to perform at these shows.

I held their trophy and watched on the screen in the back as the boys performed, wishing I could be out in the audience for once. Their excitement from winning their first award was still evident in how enthusiastic they were on stage and I longed to be in the audience to feel that excitement radiate off of them. I felt like this stage was more meaningful because of their win, and they didn’t come to disappoint.

When they finished, they came backstage again and they filmed a message to their fans for the Bangtan Bomb before we got ready to go home. They were still so happy and energetic. Even Yoongi, who is usually the calmest out of all of them, would randomly break into a happy dance or start to ramble excitedly with the others. Needless to say, the ride back to our apartments was noisy. And it made me so happy to see.

Sejin drove tonight, so I looked through twitter. I was curious to see what people had to say about tonight’s performance and our award. Of course we posted on twitter and the comments on our post were filled with love and support from the wonderful Army. It was amazing how even the simplest “congratulations” or “you guys were amazing” could make me feel so happy.

And then I decided to browse through the internet, looking on articles that were quickly written about the event. Now that was something I shouldn’t have done. My stomach churned when I saw piles on piles of comments saying that our boys didn’t deserve to win the award, that they have no talent and they won’t last even two years in the industry. Every now and then there was the light of a positive (or even neutral) comment in the dark sea of negative words, but I soon gave up trying to find more and went back to twitter to detox the comments from my mind.

Soon enough we were home and before I could even go to unlock my door, arms wrapped themselves around me and dragged me into the boys’ room.

“You’re not getting away that easily, noona,” Hoseok said as he let me go.

I laughed. “I’m not even allowed to set down my stuff, or maybe change into something more comfortable first?”

“Only if you promise to come right back,” Jungkook said from behind Hobi, resting his chin on his hyung’s shoulder and looking at me.

“I promise,” I said as I backed towards their door.

I only took a few minutes, changing into a comfy pair of pajamas before making my way across the hall again. When I reentered the room, I heard Jin on the phone ordering takeout while Tae was tickling Jungkook into a giggling puddle on the floor, and Jimin and Hobi were in a fit of laughter, the younger practically falling into Yoongi’s lap.

“Can’t you guys be quiet at least while Jin was on the phone?” I asked them, chuckling a little bit myself because the scene was just so crazy.

Tae let go of the younger boy and Jimin and Hobi’s laughter slowed down at that. “Sorry noona,” Jimin said. “Namjoonie hyung literally just tripped over thin air. It was the most hilarious thing I’ve ever seen, I couldn’t help it.”

“How can you say it was the most hilarious thing when you laugh at even the worst of Jin hyung’s dad jokes,” Yoongi retorted.

“Glad you thought me almost dying was hilarious,” Joon said.

“It really was though,” Hoseok said, laughing once more.

It was amazing how they lived together and spent every moment of every day together but still managed to keep conversations constantly flowing. I didn’t participate in the conversations very much, content just listening to each of the interesting stories from their childhoods they were currently sharing.

I didn’t know if it was because I was a bit tired, but my eyes kept falling to one of the boys in particular. I’d be watching someone else while they talked, but then he’d start to speak, or laugh, or just move around and my eyes would just gravitate to him and even linger on him for a bit afterward. Probably because he was sitting right across from me and it was just natural to look in that direction.

Even after the food arrived, and even still after we all finished eating the boys were still energetic. It was well into the night, but they showed no signs of settling down yet. Except Yoongi, he was back to his usual calm demeanor now. At least we didn’t have anything to do the next day, otherwise tomorrow would have royally sucked.

I sat a bit separated from the others, somewhat spacing out. I definitely didn’t have as much energy in me as these guys, but I felt like it would be rude if I just left right now. As I spaced out, my eyes stayed glued to him again.

Lost in my mind without any comprehensible thoughts, I felt a small smile sitting on my face but had no idea why. He turned and I vaguely noticed through my blurred, spaced out vision that his gaze met mine. I woke my brain back up to purposefully smile at him before turning away, embarrassed because I realized it probably looked like I was intentionally staring for who knew how long.

I opted to move my sight to the floor so I didn’t embarrass myself again. As I let my mind slip back into its hidden corners, I felt my heartbeat somewhat speed up. It brought me back to consciousness a bit so I could focus on it, wondering why that was happening. Then I started to feel my breath become shallower. I tried to focus on taking deeper breaths in but it didn’t seem to be working. I realized what must have been going on so I stood up to walk towards their door.

“Hey guys, I’m feeling pretty tired so I’m going to head back to get some sleep,” I said as calmly as I could muster. I let some of them say goodbye before I left as quickly as I could without (hopefully) seeming suspicious. As soon as I closed the door to my apartment, I leaned against the door and slid down. Without having any need to hold it back anymore, I felt the effects of the panic attack increase.

What was this? Where the heck did this come from? It had been so long since the last time I had a panic attack. My anxiety hadn’t been affecting me for a long time so I was confused as I let myself succumb to my body’s irrational reactions.

Then I remembered the thoughts that started surfacing recently. How I was worried about spending too much time around the boys, that I was going to annoy them if I didn’t distance myself a bit. How did I not recognize it before? My anxiety was coming back. I thought I had pushed it down, but I guessed it wasn’t as easy as that.

I willed my shaking body to get up and go to the kitchen to find paper bag from a recent takeout meal I had ordered so I could use it to regulate my breathing before it got worse. Why this trick worked was beyond me, but all I knew was that it was calming.

I tried to focus my thoughts, thinking of something comforting. While I was sure my body was panicking from insecurities about my friendship with the boys, when I fished my own mind for thoughts that were calming, he came to mind. His smile, his laughter, the feeling of his embrace. Soon enough, between that and regulating my breathing with the paper bag, I was able to bring my mind back to earth and my breathing and heartbeat regulated.

I needed to figure out how to keep this from happening again. The last thing I needed was to have a break down during work.

The next day, I decided to try to spend by myself to make sure a repeat of the night before didn’t happen. And that was going all fine and dandy until there was a knock on my door.

I opened it to see Jungkook, who instantly entered my house before I could even say hello.

“Hey, Kook,” I said as he sat in my living room. “What’s up?”

“I’m hiding,” He said.

“Huh?” I tilted my head in confusion. “What are you hiding from?”

“Jin hyung.”

“Okay…” I sat across from him and raised my eyebrows. “Care to elaborate?”

He bit his bottom lip as he contemplated telling me. “Well, I may have ruined one of his Mario figures.”

“Oh no.” I gasped. “Not the Mario figures. Do you have a death sentence?”

“I didn’t do it on purpose!”

“Does he know yet?”

“I would be dead if he did.”

“How did that happen anyway?”

He laughed nervously. “I accidentally bumped into the shelf with his figures when me and V hyung were wrestling. One of them had fallen off the shelf and hyung pushed me to the ground on top of it and it broke. It hurt, too.”

I shook my head and placed a hand on his shoulder. “It was nice knowing you, Kookie.”

Not two seconds after I said that, I heard a voice that was very distinctly Kim Seokjin’s yelling, “WHERE IS JEON JUNGKOOK?” That was quickly followed by a knocking on my door as the maknae ran into my bedroom to hide.

Good thing I keep my room clean, I thought as I opened my door. Jin entered quickly before saying, “Hi (Y/n). How are you today? Have you seen Jungkook?” within the spam of two seconds.

I blinked, taking a moment to register what he actually said before shaking my head no. “No, I haven’t seen him.”

“(Y/n),” he said, eyeing me carefully. “You’re not lying to me, are you?”

“Is he missing?” I asked, feigning ignorance. “Do we need to go looking for him?”

“Oh, he will be missing once I get my hands on him,” Jin said. “And I have a feeling he would have come to you to keep him safe.” He stepped closer to me, bending down until his face was mere inches away from mine. “So tell me, (Y/n), our precious little Kookie came here, didn’t he?”

Before I could say anything, a sound came from my bedroom. Jin hurried to my room and opened the door to Jungkook holding onto his foot. It seemed like he stubbed his toe on my bed frame. His eyes went wide as he saw Jin standing at the doorway.

“Jungkook…” The quiet tone of Jin’s voice was honestly scary.

“Yes, hyung?” the poor maknae asked as innocently as possible.

“Did you do this?” he pulled a broken Mario figure out of his pocket.

Jungkook gulped nervously, but didn’t say anything.

“Taehyung already told me you broke it so just admit to it,” Jin said.

“Wait, hold on,” Jungkook said, straightening up. “He’s as much at fault as I am. He’s the reason why I landed on it and it broke in the first place.”

“ARE YOU KIDDING ME?” Seokjin yelled as he grabbed Jungkook by the arm and dragged through my apartment back to their own.

Well, I guess Jimin is about to be the new maknae, I thought as I heard some more yelling and closed my door. I chose to go back to relaxing, not wanting to get in the middle of what was sure to be a blood bath.

Later, there was another knock at my door. I carefully opened it to see both Jungkook and Taehyung there.

“I’m not harboring anymore fugitives today,” I said.

“We didn’t do anything,” Taehyung replied. “We just wanted to stop by.”

I looked to Jungkook who nodded in confirmation. “Okay, well then come on in, I guess.” I sat in the living room and the boys followed, sitting on either side of me. “So, Jin didn’t kill you after all, huh?”

“Only because Namjoon hyung stopped him,” Tae said.

“Good,” I said, chuckling. “Be more careful next time, yeah?”

“We will,” Jungkook said, smiling.

I sighed, feeling strangely content. Yesterday was so strange. I had no reason to be feeling anxious or worried because actually more often than not, it was the boys seeking me out to spend time. If that didn’t show they wanted me around, I didn’t know what would. But then again, when did anxiety ever make sense?

Series Masterlist

Chapter 20 | Chapter 21 | Chapter 22

Tags: @calling-dips-on-j-hope @misohime @netflix-batman-sleep @smallbaby-cat @leitholdwithlove @ramyagovindraj @leesalts @rjsmochii

Send me a message or ask if you want tagged! And also feel free to leave comments or send asks to just talk to me!

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oncexinxmyxdreams · 4 years ago

Text

First Impressions

“Didn’t your mom teach you not to play with your food?” Peter wryly commented.

“Examining fungi is not playing with food,” Egon stated as he picked another mushroom from the noodles. He put it into a small jar.

Peter rolled his eyes and took another sip from the glass bottle. The earthy vanilla flavor of root beer was a sweet change from the liquor he usually sneaked around in his pocket. With how slow Egon was taking with finishing his lunch, Peter knew they wouldn’t be leaving soon. He slumped back into the booth and eyed his surroundings. It was more interesting than watching Egon perform surgery over his pasta. (No doubt, he’d ordered it because it had mushrooms in the sauce.)

The small restaurant had the familiar red walls, dark green upholstery and stained carpeted floors. Waitresses were bustling around with their trays stacked with water and breadsticks. It was warm inside with the savory scent of different Italian food which was comforting for Peter. It reminded him of his mother when she made different pastas for Saturday dinners; usually for the two of them.

“What did you get for Ray?” asked Egon. Now he was eating. Ray kept missing his usual eating out with his two close friends for over a week. He’d spent his spare time searching for a particular book in different libraries around New York City.

“His fourth favorite dish from here,” Peter said as he pushed his plate aside.

“Chicken marsala,” Egon said half to himself. The take out box was near his side of the table and he opened it with interest.

“Don’t think about it,” said Peter. He reached over and snapped the lid closed. “You’ve collected enough fungus for today.” He scooted the box closer to his side.

“I wasn’t going to take any,” protested Egon though his tone hardly changed. “Curiosity is just another-Peter? Peter!” He noticed his friend suddenly wasn’t listening to him. No surprise, a woman had just passed them.

“Wow,” Peter murmured to himself with a dazed, love sick expression.

The lady that passed them wore a cyan blue dress with an A-line skirt and a black belt which emphasized her hourglass figure. Her strawberry blonde hair was pulled into a low bun with simple hoop earrings. Even though Peter only got a glimpse of her face, he noticed her profile; like the classic beauty an old Hollywood starlet.

The lady made her way to an empty table and sat down, her back facing them. Just when Peter had started to rise up and make his way over to her, a man came up and sat with her. He had a navy blue suit and plastered blonde hair. Peter sank back. Of course she’d already have a boyfriend. Well, it certainly wouldn’t take too long to notice another lovely woman…or so he thought.

It was almost frustrating throughout the afternoon that he couldn’t stop thinking of her. It’d only been twice when after seeing an interesting lady that he couldn’t shake the image out of his mind. It looked like she’d be the third. Give it until tomorrow and things would be back to normal again.

Things calmed down into the early evening. Since Egon had already graduated with two PhDs in Applied Physics and Parapsychology he was working for Columbia in paranormal experiences. Though he had an incredibly high IQ and graduated quicker than an average student would, some professors found his work questionable. (He and Peter had to meet with one of the departments earlier that day because they had inquiries for his projects.) He worked in the Paranormal Studies Laboratory in Weaver Hall with his name printed on the glass door. It appeared more as a basement than an official lab with the sparse lighting and stale scent. Since Ray and Peter were attending Columbia, even though it was currently June, they made themselves at home. Anyone who knew Egon would be aware that he didn’t read Captain Steel comic books or have a full body poster of Marilyn Monroe. Besides, there was promise that if all went well they could work along with Egon after getting their doctorates in Parapsychology.

Egon and Ray were spending their evening looking over notes for some prototype they wanted to build. Peter ignored their technical talk and with feet propped on his desk, read the newspaper. He skipped the boring columns of economics and went straight to the sports section. He took off his tie and tossed it to the desk where he left his blazer. He was vaguely aware of the soft knock on the office door and Ray’s quick footsteps to answer.

“Oh hi Claire,” said Ray being his usual friendly self. “Come on in.”

“I found the book,” said a voice with some triumph. “I was having lunch with one of my co-workers and he said he just returned this to the library. I thought I’d check it out for you.”

“Gee thanks,” Ray said taking the thickly bound book. “I was worried I’d be waiting two weeks and-Oh! Sorry! Where are my manners? Hey guys. This is Claire Teague. She’s the one I met at the library. Claire, these are my good friends. That’s Egon and Peter’s hiding behind the newspaper.”

Right on cue, Peter’s eyes lazily looked over his newspaper and his heart skipped several beats! Be it fate, luck or even a miracle, there she was! No mistaking it, the same lady from the restaurant was there in Weaver Hall. Having heard that she was with a co-worker and not a boyfriend made Peter all the more pleased. Egon took little notice, but Peter scrambled from his chair, newspaper tumbling to the floor and turned on his charm.

“Well hello,” Peter said smoothly. He leaned against the bookshelf, chin resting on his palm and eyes gazing into hers. “I’m Peter Venkman-uh, soon to be Dr. Peter Venkman.”

“Hi,” Claire said politely. She turned back to Ray and stepped closer to him. “So are you finally going to tell me why you were looking for this book?”

“It’s kind of hard to explain,” continued Ray as he flipped to the first page with interest.

“Tell me” said Claire with a smile. “You said you’re earning a doctorate in...you said, Parapsychology?”

Peter tuned out Ray’s explanation as he leaned back against the bookshelf and took in Claire’s beauty. She was a perfect combination of actresses he liked: The smile of Michelle Pfeiffer: the soft round face Jessica Lange: the blue eyes and defined bow shaped lips of Grace Kelly: the classic hourglass figure of Marilyn Monroe. He could say perhaps even tad more voluptuous since she wasn’t as thin as a rail. When Claire sat in one of the metal chairs next to Ray, she crossed her shapely legs.

“Gorgeous,” Peter thought. He really hoped she was single. No chance Ray was dating her since he had just been asked out by another classmate. He’d been so wrapped into his thoughts that he didn’t hear Ray’s conversation end. It hadn’t been long, probably two minute. Claire looked at Peter and then back to his desk.

“What about you?” Claire said to him. “You’ve got some type of box on your desk.”

“You don’t want to know,” Egon said with some disdain.

“Have you ever heard of the ESP test?” Peter said giving his friendly tone.

“No,” Claire simply said with a head shake.

“It stands for extra sensory perception,” Peter continued. “Guess you could say it’s to figure out if you have a sixth sense and the test is based off of the psychologist Karl Zener.”

“What exactly are you testing?” Claire actually seemed curious.

“I’m examining the negative reinforcement of the ESP test with electrodes,” Peter simply answered.

“Not even scientific,” Egon muttered.

“How does that work?” Claire asked.

“Easy,” Peter explained since he thought he was gaining her attention. For full effect, he leaned over his desk and started shuffling some of the Zener cards. “Every card has a symbol on the back and-”

“There’s nothing scientific about it,” interjected Egon. He didn’t turn his back around from his project. “It’s chance! Each card has a plus sign, star, square, circle or wavy lines. You just keep randomly guessing to see if you get one right. It’s been discredited for clairvoyance!”

“Isn’t he cute?” Peter smirked. “Doesn’t have a doctorate in Psychology and he thinks he knows everything.”

“It’s not a bad idea,” said Ray who was trying to keep the peace. “Maybe if Karl Zener had just done more experiments it could’ve been credible.”

“I suppose that’s what Mr. Venkman is trying prove,” said Claire. “It just needs more testing and it could be a success that even this Zener couldn’t achieve.” She stepped a little closer to Peter. “Maybe you just need the right people to test it.”

“Funny you should say,” Peter said stepping closer to her. “I had one ditch a session tomorrow.”

“She freaked out when you told her about being hooked up for electric shocks,” protested Ray.

“She had another engagement Ray,” corrected Peter almost through his teeth. He wasn’t keen on Ray ruining his moment. He gazed back into Claire’s eyes, getting lost in the shades of blue. “If you’re interested in how the Zener test works, how about you be a test subject? I bet you’re one of the smartest ladies around; you could guess those cards so easily that you wouldn’t even get the tiniest shock.”

“I have a high threshold for pain,” Claire said after a pause. “I could be a test subject if it’s after my work. I get off at five-thirty.”

“It’d be a pleasure Miss Teague,” Peter responded. “An absolute pleasure. Six-ish work for you?”

“That’d be nice.” Claire walked around him for the door. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Let me know when you’re ready to check the book back in Ray. Goodbye.”

Right after she left, Egon muttered something and scribbled another formula for the prototype. Peter playfully slapped Ray on the shoulder.

“What?” asked Ray innocently.

“When you said you met some girl at the library you didn’t say she was a bombshell,” teased Peter.

“I told you her name,” said Ray. “We were just in the history section and I accidentally bumped into her.”

“She doesn’t seem to have the same interest as you,” Egon said who couldn’t help overhearing a little.

“Well no,” admitted Ray with a shrug. “She loves history and I was looking for that book about ghost sightings during America’s earliest years. So she said she’d keep an eye for it and I told where I’m at if she finds it. Nothing to it. It’s not like I was going to date her.”

“Did she mention being single?” Peter asked eagerly.

“I think she is.” Ray scratched his head in thought. He noticed the gleam in Peter’s eyes. “Oh come on Peter! Don’t tell me you’re going to ask her out after the ESP test.”

“Very good Ray,” joked Peter. “You catch on fast. You should’ve seen the look in her eyes when she said she’d volunteer. That’s the look of a woman who’s fallen under the Venkman charm.”

It would work out perfectly. Claire would get all the right cards; she’d be smitten by Peter’s “encouragement” to guess correctly and then a date. Who knew, maybe something extra later in the night? She seemed self-confident to have hinted being a volunteer. Peter already liked that. She didn’t give off too much personality other than the first things he usually noticed in a lady; that being pretty and nice. Either way, the usual plan was already up and running.

(Author’s Note: Finally! First ficlet up! BTW, you better be hearing Lorenzo Music’s voice when reading Peter’s lines here. 😉 Props to Spengs0 for suggesting Paire as a shipping name.

#the real ghostbusters #fanfic #fanfiction #peter venkman #ray stantz #egon spengler #claire teague #OC #RGB: First Impressions #rgb fic

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myhockeyworld87 · 5 years ago

Text

Baby Blunder - Tyler Seguin

Requested: Yes

Word Count: 3099

Warnings: None

POV: Both, starts of Reader, then switches to Tyler

Notes: This was really a cute request I had fun writing. Hope you all enjoy it! Peace, Love and Hugs all!

READER POV

Seeing that little plus sign pop up, only confirmed what you’d suspected the last couple days. You’d been feeling the exact same way you had when you were pregnant the first time; only then, you had no idea why you were nauseous most of the morning. It had taken ten weeks before you discovered you were carrying Tyler’s baby then; now you couldn’t be more than five weeks along by your calculations. “You’re going to be a big brother, Liam.” You bent down to pick up your two-year-old, swinging him in your arms.

“Yay!” Little Liam, cheered, more from the swinging around than being a big brother. He probably had no idea what that meant. “More Mommy more.” He cheered, as you twirled him around one last time before setting him back on the ground.

“Now, we can’t tell Daddy; we have to make it special. Okay?” Liam shook his head yes. “Hmmm, how should we tell him?” With Liam, it was easy, you’d gone the typical route and got a baby size Seguin jersey with Daddy written on the back. Tyler had been ecstatic; even though you’d only been married for a short six months. This time you wanted to do something a little different; so you were wracking your brain trying to come up with a clever idea. Finally, you decided you’d make a special meal, baby back ribs, baby potatoes, baby carrots and baby peas; with baby bananas foster for dessert.

You and Liam, headed to the store to get all the ingredients for your baby themed dinner. On the way you passed a custom-made T-shirt shop; on a whim you stopped in and had them make a cute little shirt for Liam that said, I’m so cute, Mom and Dad decided to do it again. Big Brother coming May 2020. It would make for a great picture to send both of your families.

Tyler was away on the Stars first road trip of the season and wouldn’t be home until tomorrow; so you had time to implement your plan. That night you and Liam watched the Stars play in Detroit. You thought for sure they were going to come away with a win. Tyler scored his first goal of the season; you and Liam cheering him on from the living room of your home. However, the third period saw them fall to Detroit; it was a disappointing loss, and you could see it had taken a toll on Tyler as he walked down the ramp to the locker room. Liam had fallen asleep on the couch, so you carried him into bed. The phone rang, Tyler on the other end. “Hey babe, that was a tough loss tonight. Wish we could’ve been there in person for your first goal.”

“We played like shit tonight. I’m glad you and Liam weren’t there to see us. It’s like we can’t gel as a team or something.” You could hear the frustration in his voice.

“Ty, it’s only the third game of the season; you guys will find a rhythm soon enough.”

“Yeah, well if it doesn’t happen soon; it’s going to knock us out of everything.”

“Babe, you’re over-reacting; there are eighty-two games and you’ve only played three. Give it time.”

He blew out a breath, annoyed at both the team and your optimism. “You just don’t get it (Y/N). I’m out there skating my ass off, calling for the puck; the passes are off and I’m crashing the net, but no one on my line is there backing me up. Jamie’s playing on a different line, things are just off.”

He continued on like that for the next several minutes; and you let him. He just needed to blow off some steam; by tomorrow he would realize it was only the start of the season, and that things would come around. Eventually he asked about Liam and what new things he’d learnt today. You told him how he’d finally got the L, M, N, O, P down on his alphabet; but omitted the part where Liam found out he was going to be a big brother. Finally, he told you he loved you and that he’d see you tomorrow afternoon.

In the morning, you prepped all the food for your big dinner, Liam playing with the dogs in the background. Around two in the afternoon, Tyler strode through the door. “Hey hun,” his voice sounded dejected.

“Hey Ty, how was the flight?” You asked walking over to your husband and greeted him with a kiss; hoping to improve his mood.

“It was fine.” Gerry and Marshall had wandered over; Tyler aimlessly petting them. “Where’s my little guy?”

“He’s napping, with Cash.”

“I think I’ll join him. I couldn’t sleep on the flight; Jamie and I were trying to come up with ways to get things back on track. What’s for dinner?”

Not wanting to give much away, you answered simply; “Baby back ribs.”

“Sounds great babe. I’m gonna check on Liam and then grab a nap myself, maybe I’ll dream of how we can win this next game.”

“That’s fine. I’ll wake you up for dinner, if Liam doesn’t.” Hopefully he’d be in a better mood once he woke up. You cleaned up the toys and finished up dessert, until Liam got up, full of energy. Keeping him quiet was a chore, but the two of you played with his trains, then turned on the cartoon version of the Lion King. Around five you sent him in to wake up his dad.

Liam ran into the bedroom and jumped on the bed. “Daddy!” The toddler climbed all over Tyler, practically smothering him in the process. “Miss you.”

“I missed you too, bud.” Tyler said groggily, as he rubbed the curls atop Liam’s head. Liam was the spitting image of his father, messy curls with dark chocolate brown eyes and a smile that could melt your heart; vaguely you wondered if the new baby would have the same traits. Tyler lifted, Liam up in the air, and giggles filled the room.

“Again, daddy again.” Liam was definitely putting his father in a better mood.

“Ok you two, I’m going to finish dinner. It will be ready in about ten minutes; make sure you wash up before.”

“Yes, mommy.” Both Tyler and Liam responding before more laughter erupted.

As you entered the kitchen a bout of nerves hit you; it wasn’t that you were worried about Tyler’s reaction, for the two of you had talked about having more children. It was just that you wanted everything to be perfect. Everything was laid out on the table, as the two peas in a pod came strolling into the kitchen.

“Peas?” Tyler questioned. “You know I’m not fond of those.” He was helping Liam in his booster seat; as he turned up his nose to the vegetables.

“I no like peas either.” Liam chimed in, wanting to be just like his daddy.

“Well they’re good for you, so you’re both going to eat them.” Tyler exchanged a conspiratorial glance with his son; then pointed to the dogs. “Don’t even think about it you two.”

“Mommy’s no fun.” You rolled your eyes at your husband, as you continued to make a plate for your son. Keeping an eye on Tyler, you watched for his reaction as he scooped some baby red potatoes onto his plate, then piled on some baby back ribs; never noticing the carefully laid out theme you had going on.

“Would you like some BABY carrots.” Emphasizing the word baby, so he would take notice.

“Sure hun.” Handing the small plate over to Liam, you watched as he ate enthusiastically; then made yourself a plate. Tyler’s phone beeped and he glanced down at the message that came through. “Son of a ...”

“Language.” You warned him.

“Sorry, it’s just we can’t seem to catch a break. Jamie just text and said Dickinson is out for at least four weeks. How are we supposed to win a game, when we’re losing players left and right? I’m telling you something’s gotta change.” He was shoveling food in, not even paying attention as he spooned the dreaded baby peas in his mouth. “We need to make some line changes; and it wouldn’t hurt to practice a bit more.”

“Well I’m sure Monty’s on top of things; that is what they pay him for.”

“Yeah well, sometimes I don’t agree with some of his calls. Like last night, he changed the lines midstream and then the new guys didn’t realize it and we got caught with a stupid too many men on the ice penalty. There’s no excuse for that.”

He was so engrossed with dissecting the game that he wasn’t paying one bit to the dinner in front of him. Part of you wondered if you should just come out and tell him the news, instead you tried a different tactic. “How’s your dinner? Did you want more baby back ribs?”

“What? Oh no, I’m good. Dinner’s great hun.” He continued to eat the meal, which effectively went over his head. “But seriously babe, that penalty should’ve never happened.” He went on about the game during the duration of the meal. Finally, you brought out dessert, after you cleaned up Liam. “What’s this babe?”

“Bananas foster.”

“Why are the bananas so small?” Your spirits picked up as he examined the dish.

“I used baby ones.”

“Oh cool, that was smart thinking; much easier for Liam to eat the little ones. He never finishes a whole one.” Frustration started to set in, and you could feel yourself getting irritated. The three of you finished dessert; where you tried at least three times to tell Tyler you were pregnant. However, he kept interrupting you with different comments about the poor play of the Stars. Finally, you went and cleaned up the dishes; as Ty played with Liam in the living room

The phone beeped again, Tyler checking the screen. “Hey babe, you don’t care if I go over to Jamie’s and watch film. We really need to go over it again and see what we can fix.”

The dish in your hand fell back into the sink; as anger bubbled up inside you. “Yes, Tyler I do care. You’ve been gone for three days, and I don’t think it’s too much to ask for you to spend a few hours with your family.” You slammed the last of the dishes into the dishwasher. “But if the team is more important than us; then by all means go. I’m going to go run a bath for our child. If you can wait five minutes, while I do that; that would be helpful.”

“Geez, mommy is in a bad mood.” You heard him say as you walked back the hall, into Liam’s bathroom, where you began to cry. This part of pregnancy you remembered well; your hormones had been off the charts the last time, apparently this time was no different.

TYLER”S POV

You didn’t know what had set (Y/N) off; things seemed fine at dinner. You’d seen her get a little on edge when you’d been gone on a long road trip; Liam could be a handful from time to time. “Were you good for mommy today, buddy?” Your little man nodding his head enthusiastically. “Hmmm, then she must be mad at daddy.” Quickly you text Jamie back, letting him know you weren’t going to be able to make it over. Scooping Liam up you headed into his room. “Alright, lil dude, let’s grab some pajamas and daddy will give you a bath tonight, while mommy rests.” The two of you made your way into Liam’s closet; where you proceeded to look for his pjs.

Squirming in your arms, you set your child down. “New ones;” he said wandering over to a bag that was off to the side.

“Okay bud, let’s wear the new ones. Mommy must have been shopping, so I don’t why she’s in a bad mood.” Taking the bag from your son, you opened it to find a shirt inside. “I don’t think these are pjs buddy, there aren’t any bottoms in here.” You took another look into the bag making sure you didn’t miss them.

You were about to put the shirt back in the bag, when Liam said; “new shirt daddy.” That’s when you pulled the shirt out and really looked at it.

Slowly you let the words sink in as you read the writing. “What’s this? You’re going to be a big brother.” Liam’s little face lit up, as if he understood. Suddenly everything dawned on you; (Y/N) was pregnant. The baby carrots and ribs all made sense; she’d been trying to tell you, and all you did was complain about how poorly the team had performed over the last several games. “Oh shit. Your dad is really dumb you know that.”

“Shit.” The two-year-old repeated, then giggled.

“Oh no, don’t say that or daddy will be in more trouble.” And you were in enough as it was. “Come on bud, let’s go find mommy and see if we can make it up to her.” Grabbing Liam’s hand, you headed into the adjoining bathroom, where your wife sat on the edge of the tub, wiping away tears. “Hey baby, I think we need to talk.” Liam scooted over to his mom, wanting to comfort her, as she placed him on her lap. She quickly turned off the water, ignoring you in the process; rightfully so. You’d been an ass, not even asking her how her day was or if anything was new. “So, I a... found this in Liam’s closet.” You held out the little t-shirt; and a fresh set of tears erupted. Swiftly you sat down beside your wife and child. “I’m so stupid, (Y/N) I should’ve noticed how much effort you put into dinner. Ugh, and that little bananas comment; I mean of course you were trying to tell me something, not just making smaller food for Liam. I was just too wrapped up in the team’s problems to pay any attention.” She still wasn’t looking at you. “Baby, I’m so sorry.” Reaching over you rubbed her arm, where she held your first born. “I’m really excited about baby number two.”

Finally, she looked over at you, a small smile faint across her lips. “Me too.” A wide grin spread over your face, and hers grew bigger.

“How about you buddy, are you excited to be a big brother?” You tickled Liam’s belly, eliciting a laugh from him; as he nodded his head. “And do you want a brother or a sister?”

“Both!” He exclaimed cheerfully.

“Woah, easy bud, how about one or the other.” You wiped the tears off (Y/N)’s face. “I love you sweetheart. Thank you for making me a dad again.” Cupping her chin, you brought her lips to yours, pouring all your love into a devastatingly sweet kiss; that didn’t last long enough for your liking. “Why don’t you let me bath Liam, while you go relax on the couch; then we can all cuddle. How’s that sound?”

“It sounds perfect.” She handed Liam off to you, and headed out to get comfy.

Setting the little boy in the tub, you watched as he splashed around with his toys; before you washed all the grim little boys get into off of him. “Out daddy.”

“Ok bud, let’s get you dried off and we can go out and snuggle mommy. She’ll like that.” Once Liam was all dry, you lathered on the pink baby lotion your wife loved, giving him that clean baby smell; then placed his big brother t-shirt on him. Combing his little curls back, you had to admit he was a miniature you. “There ya go lil man, all clean for mommy.” You cleaned up the bathroom, before the two of you headed out to (Y/N).

Liam took off, the minute he saw his mom. “Mmmm, you smell so good peanut.” (Y/N) gathered the tiny tot into her arms, nuzzling the crook of his neck; causing him to laugh. She looked happier now.

“Babe do you want anything before I sit down?” You’d bring her the world if you could, that’s how much you loved this woman.

“Juice,” Liam shouted out.

“No, I’m good.” You grabbed a sippy cup and filled it with apple juice, then headed over to the couch. “What do you say to daddy?”

“Thank you.”

“Your welcome lil man.” Plopping down, you scooted your wife over so you could wrap your arms around her and caress her belly. As she leaned against you, you whispered in her ear. “I hope this one’s a little girl.”

She turned her face up towards you. “Really? You don’t want another boy?”

“Don’t get me wrong, I want a whole hockey team of little guys; but I need a little girl, exactly like her mommy.” She smiled widely at you. “She’ll have your beautiful smile, your charming personality and most of all your loving heart.” You kissed (Y/N) quick on the lips, then groaned. “Ugh,” she looked at you questioningly. “I just realized, if she’s just like you, I’m going to have to lock her in her room until she’s forty.” (Y/N) laughed and Liam joined in; not knowing what the two of you found so funny.

“Still want a girl?”

“Oh absolutely. Even if it means I have to be that dad that glares at every boy that looks in her direction. I want a little girl just like you to spoil rotten. She’ll be perfect, just like her mom.” She leaned up and kissed you passionately.

“My mommy.” Liam interjected, squirming between you two.

“She’s not just your mommy anymore bud.” You countered, placing a kiss on his little forehead.

“No, my mommy.” He said wrapping his little arms around (Y/N)’s neck.

“Looks like someone is a little bit jealous.” Your beautiful wife squeaked out, as Liam kissed her cheeks. “At least he’s got a few months to adjust, before he has to share completely.”

“Oh, he has to share you now,” you exclaimed, as you smothered both your wife and son with kisses; all three of you laughing. When the giggles finally calmed down, you looked at (Y/N). “I love you.”

“I love you too.” She breathed.

“I love too.” Liam joined in.

Stroking (Y/N)’s belly, you said; “I can’t wait to tell you I love you too little one.” Suddenly nothing else in the world mattered but the three lives you held in your arms.

#tyler seguin #tyler seguin imagine #tyler seguin imagines #dallas stars #dallas stars imagine #dallas stars imagines #nhl imagines #nhl imagine #nhl fanfic #hockey imagines #hockey imagine #hockey fanfiction

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cordoniantrash · 5 years ago

Text

Once Upon Another Time: Chapter Six

AU: In another time where the brothers Beaumont did not reach Cassandra in time, the waitress turned lady went back to New York to rebuild her old life. After finding an unexpected souvenir, she set off and joined her long lost family. Four years later, a newly divorced King of Cordonia arrives in New York in hopes of reuniting with his beloved. Instead of Cassandra, all he found was a postcard with the word Edgewater written on the back

Catch up here: Prologue, Chapter One, Chapter Two, Chapter Three, Chapter Four, Chapter Five

Plus a masterlist if you guys are interested.

Hi guys! Thank you so much for all the likes, reblogs and comments both in this series and in the snippet I posted a few days ago (also, should I make it a thing for this chapter? Let me know).

I’m just going to resign myself to the fact that the chapters are gonna get longer after this.

Thanks to @thequeennefertipi for betaing!

Disclaimer: I don’t own the characters, Pixleberry has that privilege. Title for both the series and the chapter titles, plus the epigraphs are from Sara Bareilles’ discography.

Pairings: Liam x MC

Warning: vague descriptions of violence, discussion of violence, swearing

Words: 6943

Chapter Six: Eyes on You

Life, it gets louder now

Can’t stop it, won’t slow down

Lost in this, all I can do

Is keep my eyes on you

It took three rings before someone answered her call.

“Mommy?”

Cassandra smiled, relief flooding into her system. “Hey, baby. How’s holiday going?”

“Good! Grandma and me ate lotsa apples!”

“Did they taste good?”

“Sometimes.” She can see him shrug in her mind’s eye. She chuckled.

“Are you going to bring me some?”

“Yes! And a hat! Mommy, I got you a hat!”

Cassie’s cheeks hurt from smiling too much. “Is that so? I hope it’s a nice hat.”

“It’s got lotsa flowers, Mommy. It’s a nice hat.”

Cassandra let out a laugh. “Alright then. I’ll wear it when you guys get home.”

There was a muffled voice in the background. It sounded like a question.

“Mommy, can I go with Aunt Lizzy to the beach? I wanna find a seashell.”

“Is Grandma coming with you?”

“Nuh-uh. She’s got grown-up stuff to do,” he mumbled into the phone. “Please, Mommy? I’m gonna bring you a shell too!”

“As long as you stay with Aunt Lizzy, love.”

“I will! I’ll be a good boy!”

“Alright then,” Cassie heard the muffled voice again. “Is that Grandma?”

“Yeah…” Lucas answered. “She wants ta talk to you,” he paused as the muffled voice spoke again. Lucas spoke into the phone again, his voice louder this time. “Call me again, Mommy! Love you!”

“Love you too, baby.”

There was a shuffle and an exclamation from Lucas, then silence. Before she could panic, Cassie heard her aunt’s voice.

“Hello, dear.” She must have moved to a quieter place.

“Hey, Auntie. How’d dinner go?” Did they see each other? Her unspoken question hung in the air.

Her aunt sighed. “Do you really want to know, love?”

Cassandra froze. Her fingers felt numb.

“They saw each other then.”

----

Are you alright?

Still no answer. Liam sighed. Years of Drake’s friendship taught me more about patience than my lessons ever did.

Faintly, he heard Lucas’ voice through the door. He raised his hand to knock when he heard it.

“… Call me again Mommy! Love you!”

Liam paused. His heart was hammering in his chest. Was that…?

Before he could act, the door opened. He quickly tried to muster a pleasant expression. The look that Lady Elizabeth shot him made him wonder if it worked. He rushed to apologise for eavesdropping, but before either adult could say anything, Lucas had launched himself from the sofa and had clung to one of Liam’s legs.

“Mr Liam!” he said, looking up at Liam, beaming and grinning ear to ear.

He couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped from him. He raised his hand, hesitating before placing it on Lucas’ head. “Good morning Lucas. How are you today?”

“I’m good! Are we gonna play at the beach today, Mr Liam?”

“Well, that depends on whether your grandma agreed to let you go today.”

“Oh, Mother said yes,” Lady Elizabeth piped up from the doorway. Liam and Lucas both startled and looked at her. He quickly straightened and set Lucas on his feet. Liam could feel his ears burning. He cleared his throat.

“I’m er, glad to hear that. My car is ready to depart whenever you’re ready.”

Lucas tugged at Liam’s hand. Liam knelt to the boy’s (his son?) height.

“Are there seashells on the beach?”

“Oh yes. Are you going to collect some?”

Lucas nodded. “I’m bringing one to my Mommy.”

What’s her name? He wanted to ask. At the corner of his eye, he saw that Lady Elizabeth had gone towards the bed where a duffle bag was being packed by an older woman. No one was looking their way. This was his chance.

He opened his mouth to ask.

“Lucas, have you got your things ready?” the Countess’ question gave Liam pause. Perhaps later. He rose to his feet as the Countess stepped into the room. She curtsied when she saw him.

“Your Majesty.”

“Please My Lady, there’s no need for formalities. We are all friends here. You may just call me Liam.”

“Of course… Liam. You can call me Clara then.” She nodded at him then turned to Lucas. “Why don’t you look and see if nanny brought all your things, dear?”

Lucas shrugged. “Okay, Grandma,” he tugged on Liam’s hand again. “D’you wanna see my stuff?”

Countess Clara chuckled, “I’m afraid I have to talk to Liam first, Lucas. You can show him your toys later on the beach.”

“Okay!” With that, the four-year-old went toward the bed. Liam forced himself to focus on the Countess.

“I’m glad you accepted my invitation, Clara.”

“We should be the ones thanking you, Liam. You’ve taken time away from your duties just to play chaperone to us.”

“It’s no trouble at all. If anything, I should be thanking you and your family,” at the Countess’ questioning look, he added, “It has given me the perfect opportunity to take a breather.”

Lady Harper chuckled. “Well, I’m glad we could be of service.”

“I’m ready!” Lucas exclaimed as he joined them again. He took Liam’s hand. “Let’s go!”

“Well, then. I promise to bring them back safe and sound Clara.”

“I’ll hold you onto that, Liam.”

----

Paris

The apartment was small and cluttered. That was Drake’s first thought when he first stepped inside his sister’s apartment for the first time. Five years of separation had been kinder to her than to him. The Walker siblings stood in front of each other, barely meeting each other’s eyes, the silence between them too big and heavy for the small Parisian apartment.

Drake was the first one to crack.

“So…” he trailed off.

Savannah’s eyes snapped to him.

“So…” she echoed. Drake cleared his throat.

“Listen, Drake — “Savannah began. Drake looked at his sister, noticing the changes that five years had given her. Whatever she was going to say was interrupted by a door opening. Drake turned towards the sound.

“Mama?”

----

The Beach

“Look, Mr Liam! Look!” Lucas exclaimed as he tugged Liam into another direction. Liam marvelled at his enthusiasm. Liam had shown him how to find sand dollars and starfishes and in turn, Lucas runs about presenting him with all kinds of little finds.

Maybe I should have invited Leo and the twins. But Liam was reluctant to share his time with Lucas with anyone else. Just this once, let me spend time with him. I might not get another chance.

“That shell is wonderful Lucas. You’ve got quite the eye for colours.”

The boy beamed. “Really?”

“Oh yes,” Liam answered grinning. “Do you enjoy colouring?”

“Yes! Mommy said I’ll use watercolours when I turn five!” he scrunched his face. “It’s going to be so far away.”

Liam chuckled. “Well.. I could give you art supplies later, if you’d like.”

Lucas let out a cheer and then launched himself into Liam’s arms. “Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!”

Liam hugged him back. He felt a lump forming in his throat. He blinked, eyesight suddenly blurred. After a moment, Lucas wiggled in his arms. Clearing his throat, Liam reluctantly let go of the child. Looking around, he noticed that they ended up near the path towards the falls.

Looking around, he spotted Lady Elizabeth still tanning herself on the beach, seemingly asleep.

“Lucas, would you like to come with me? I’d like to show you something.”

He offered his hand to Lucas. The little boy took it immediately.

“Okay.”

Liam led the child into the path. Lucas’ reaction to the waterfall did not disappoint. The boy stood there gaping at the sight. Liam remembered a similar reaction four years ago. They have the same eyes, he realised. The same shade. I’d know those eyes anywhere.

He shook his head and cleared his throat. He pondered if he should tell the story behind the waterfall. But he’s too young, he thought. Perhaps next time… if there is a next time.

“Lucas?”

The boy turned towards him. It’s now or never.

“Yes, Mr Liam?”

“Can I ask you something?”

“Sure!”

“Could you tell me your mommy’s name?”

Lucas’ eyebrows furrowed.

“Why?”

Liam’s heart pounded in his chest. Because I think you’re my son. Because I hope with all my heart, that you’re our child.

“Well, if I’m going to send you more art supplies for your birthday, I would need a name to send it to,” Liam said, lightly.

Lucas’ eyes widened. “I’m getting more watercolours on my birthday?”

Despite his anxious state, Liam managed a smile and a nod.

“That’s why I need to know Lucas,” he said, gaze never leaving the boy. “What’s your mommy’s name?”

The four-year-old furrowed his eyebrows then answered, “Mommy. I call her Mommy…”

Liam felt his shoulders fall. Seeing his expression, Lucas quickly added, “Grandma Clara calls her Cassandra.”

----

Nevrakis townhouse

“Here are the document sent by Lady Kiara, Your Grace.”

Still busy with the report on Madeleine, Olivia motioned for him to leave it by her desk. A moment passed. She looked up, and he’s still there. She raised an eyebrow.

“This better be good.”

“Lady Kiara said I might have to stay and assist you with the documents.”

“Is that so?” Kiara would never say that. She’ll come here herself if that’s the case.

“Yes, ma’am. She was quite adamant about it.”

Oh, really? She looked at him closely. Dark hair, glasses and brown eyes. Polished and professional. Just another staff member. His stance gave her pause. Was he in the military before being the secretary to the Palace Representative?

“Right. Well, that won’t be necessary…” she trailed off. What’s this one’s name again?

“Justin, Your Grace,” he said with a straight face.

Huh. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say that this one had a noble’s training.

“Justin,” she echoed. “You can run back to Kiara. If I need any clarification, I’ll let her know.”

“Very good, Your Grace.” Oh, don’t look so disappointed. You still won’t get anything if you stayed here.

He bowed and left the room. She went to her desk and called her secretary. After they made sure that the room was secure, Olivia spoke again.

“I want you to look into Kiara’s secretary.”

Her secretary looked confused but complied.

Something else is going on here and I don’t like it.

----

The Royal Palace

Lucas was nestled in his arms when they came back from the beach. The child had exhausted himself and then fell asleep on Liam’s lap on their way back. He did not want to let go. Cassandra. His mother’s Cassandra. He looked out of the window. Is that why you left? Because I was too late? What happened to you, Cassie? He looked at the child cradled in his arms. How can I make amends?

“I’ve never seen him take to someone so fast.” Lady Elizabeth mused beside him. “He’s usually the quiet one in his playgroup.” She looked at him, eyes sharp and assessing. “He must really like you.”

Liam smiled as he looked at Lucas once more. “I admit, I’m finding it quite hard to picture him as the quiet one.”

“Oh, he’s a little terror when he’s at home. Always running about and getting into all sorts of messes. He’s a free spirit, our Lucas.”

The car stopped at the Palace doors. Their time was coming to a close. Liam was suddenly worried he won’t be able to carry the child any longer. He spoke before thinking.

“I’d like to carry him back, my lady. If that’s not too forward?”

Lady Elizabeth’s expression hinted surprise before she agreed. He ignored all the curious stares as he walked towards their suites, Lucas still in his arms.

Countess Clara was waiting for them when he entered their room. Liam’s eyebrows furrowed when he saw his brother sitting on the sofa, expression inscrutable. Leo saw how Liam carried the boy and his eyes softened. Does he know? Liam wondered.

Something unspoken hung in the air.

“Your Majesty,” she said. “Please, take a seat.”

Sensing the tension, Lady Elizabeth gently took Lucas from Liam’s arms. With a significant look between her and the countess, she went to the bedroom and closed the door.

Liam followed them with his eyes, all too aware of the expectant looks his brother and the countess was giving him. It was only after the door closed that he turned and moved towards the sofa, taking a seat beside Leo.

“Would you two like some tea?” the countess asked.

Liam opened his mouth, about to refuse, but Leo spoke before he could.

“Tea would be wonderful, thank you, my lady.”

Liam glanced at his brother, perplexed. Leo discreetly elbowed him.

“A cup for me as well, my lady if you would be so kind.”

Countess Clara smiled, then motioned to the elderly woman that Liam assumed was Lucas’ nanny. Clara noticed Liam’s glance. She spoke.

“Briar is an old friend, and one of my most trusted confidants. She took care of my children and now takes care of Lucas.”

The tea set was placed in front of them. A moment of silence passed as they each took a cup and drank. Liam’s mind was abuzz with questions.

Leo was the first one to speak. “So… my lady. To what do we owe this pleasure?”

Clara raised an eyebrow. “You’re the direct one then. Interesting.” She set her cup on the coffee table and sat straight. For a moment Liam was reminded of the etiquette teacher that he and Leo once had. He was snapped out of his thoughts when the countess placed a leather-bound journal on the table between them.

It was simple and old, but well-made. On the corner was an inscription.

Liam was confused. I’ve seen those initials before…

He noticed that Leo had tensed beside him. Then it clicked. Those were his mother’s initials. Before she married our father. But how?

“I would assume that you two are familiar with these initials?”

Leo stared, not responding. Liam cleared his throat. A beat passed. Finally, his brother spoke.

“Those are my birth mother’s initials.” His eyes snapped towards the countess, confusion clear for all to see, “Why is this with you?”

Countess Clara leaned back in her chair. “Cordelia is a distant cousin of ours.”

Liam’s eyebrows rose. The brothers both leaned in at the same time. Clara stopped their questions with a gesture. “I think both of you should read it before any questions are asked.”

She pushed the journal towards them. Liam exchanged a look with his brother.

“We’ll be leaving in a few days. That should be enough time to read the important parts.”

She stood up, Liam and his brother following her still confused.

“I’ll catch up later,” Liam muttered to Leo. His brother nodded and with a nod to the Countess, left the room. Liam straightened, then turned to face the Countess of Edgewater.

“Countess Clara, I was wondering if I might ask you a different question.”

Clara turned to him. A knowing glint in her eyes. “Of course, Your Majesty.”

“I—“now that he was standing face to face with the lady, Liam was suddenly filled with doubts. Questions popped into his head. They all had his father’s voice. I need to know, he reminded himself. With that thought, he forged ahead.

“Yes?”

“I need to ask—no, I need to know, my lady,” he looked straight into the Countess’ eyes. “Is Lucas my son?”

Her expression did not change, but he noticed that she tensed. There was a long pause. The Countess opened her mouth to answer but hesitated.

Liam’s heart was beating hard in his chest.

“It’s not that hard to answer, my Lady.”

The Countess just looked at him. Unsure but not unkind.

He sighed.

“Can I take that as a yes then?”

“Your Majesty, I think the answer has already crossed your mind.”

----

Leo had decided to check on Katie and the girls before reading anything from the journal. A small voice in his head whispered that he was just procrastinating. He brushed it aside. I abdicated partly to get away from this life and all its schemes. Why is it still following me after all these years?

He fixed himself a drink when he arrived at Liam’s office. Looking around the space, he noticed a framed photograph on his brother’s desk. Curious, we wandered over for a look. It was a photo of him and Cassandra.

“Oh, Liam,” he said sadly. Times like these, he was reminded that for every day he has as a free man is a day that his brother had to face alone in this court. He shook his head. Are you happy now old man?

Leo turned to the door as it opened. His brother came in, eyes looking a bit red. Leo walked over and poured him a glass. Liam accepted the glass, his movement almost mechanical as he sat down on the lounge chair.

“Dare I ask what happened?”

Liam spoke, his voice hoarse. “I asked her if Lucas is my son.”

Leo joined his brother on the chair, “and?”

“She did not tell me a thing,” Liam sighed. “Told me that the answer already crossed my mind.”

That’s basically a yes, Leo thought. Looking at his brother’s glum expression, he held back his comment. Leo clapped him on the shoulder instead.

“I’m sorry, brother.”

Liam set his glass down and rubbed his face. “That’s not all.”

“Was else happened?”

“I asked Lucas for his mother’s name.”

Leo straightened up. “And?”

“He said that his mother’s name is Cassandra.”

“Does that mean –”

“Probably.”

“He’s gotta be. I mean, have you seen him?”

Liam sighed. “That proves nothing.”

“What? Do you want me to dig up some pictures of you when you were younger? Liam, he looks exactly like you.”

His brother shook his head, “He’s got Cassie’s eyes.”

Leo raised a skeptical eyebrow. “If you say so,” he smirked, “after all, you were the one who stared into them for goodness knows how long.”

Liam blushed. Leo shook his head but smiled. “If anything, that just proves that he is your son,” he glanced at Liam, “unless you’ve been running around with someone else these last four years.”

The horror in Liam’s face made Leo laugh. His brother elbowed him. “Stop it.”

Leo’s laughter eventually stopped. Silence enveloped the brothers. Both of them finished their drinks.

“Let’s get dinner,” Leo said.

“I’ll alert the kitchens.”

“Not here, brother. I know a place.”

Liam hesitated, but he nodded.

Half an hour later, sitting at the back of an out of the way diner, the brothers looked over the journal. Cordelia hadn’t responded to my email. But now that we figured out where Edgewater is, I don’t see why we need to look into her journal too. Looking between the journal and his brother, Leo mentally shrugged. Eh, might as well.

“It’s written in Greek,” Liam muttered. “Should we really look into her private journal? We’re invading her privacy.”

“Eh,” Leo waved his hand, “who cares? Let’s just get to the bottom of this.”

The journal entries weren’t long. The journal itself wasn’t filled to the brim. It was old. One might say harmless, even. The events described within the pages, however, could have, and still could, destroy their father.

Accounts of how Constantine solidified power during his early years had been glossed over by their teachers when they were young. It was just a typical succession they said. The then crown prince Constantine had selected a bride during his own social season, who ended up becoming Leo’s birth mother, then worked tirelessly to bring about peace and economic growth in a previously overlooked European country. Those were the stories recorded in the history books. It was the story that the entire world knew.

Growing up in the palace, Leo had known that not everything was as it seemed. The contents of the journal proved his views to be true. There was no peaceful transition. Constantine wasted no time in consolidating his power when he became king, using whatever means necessary.

He took what he wanted and gave no concessions; Cordelia wrote that everything was in black and white and you are either with him or against him. Her fear and horror seemed to jump out at every new revelation. She described in detail how dissenting forces were ripped out, root and stem. Entire families quietly disappeared. The Severus clan wiped out. Protest leaders vanished, never to be heard of again. The slightest sign of dissent was mercilessly crushed. Cordelia described a reign of terror with Constantine at its head, the years producing a constant flood of blood, slowly rising and suffocating her.

Things seemed to slow to a trickle when Leo was born. Constantine, briefly satisfied by the absolute power he gained, turned towards the future and his legacy. He had an image of Cordonia in his mind, Cordelia wrote. It was to be his legacy, with Leo as his successor. The killings seemed to stop. They all dared to breathe.

The journal entries stopped there. The brothers sat in tense silence.

“That bastard,” Leo spit out.

Liam sat still, eyes distant. “That must be why she left,” he muttered. “He made it look that she couldn’t handle the pressures of being queen.”

“When he was just being a fucking tyrant.” Leo fumed.

“I’m not one to speak ill of the dead but—“

“Fuck him.” Leo finished for Liam.

His brother nodded. Leo shook his head. “There’s something I don’t understand.”

“Which one?” Liam asked wryly. “The murders or the blackmails?”

Leo shook his head again. “No… why would a countess in England have this in the first place?”

“You heard her… they were cousins.”

“But why hide it there?”

“Your guess is as good as mine brother.”

Leo leaned back in his chair. A realisation came to him. “He had her investigated.”

Liam looked confused. “Pardon?”

“Cassandra. The bastard had her investigated, remember?”

Liam hung his head, “Yes…” he trailed off then snapped his head towards Leo’s direction, “are you implying—“

“That he found out she was related to Cordelia and got her out of the picture? Yeah. Think about it, Liam. This was his modus operandi since the seventies!”

“If that is true, then that would make you and Cassie cousins.”

Leo shrugged. “If it hadn’t been for father dearest, she would have been my sister-in-law by now. Besides, you two aren’t related. But you know what this means, right?”

“What?”

“Cassandra is Lucas’ mother. Liam, you are his dad.”

Liam shook his head. “We’re operating on an assumption here Leo.”

“An assumption with concrete evidence! Why else would the countess come here herself? With Lucas?”

“I — “cautious hope flickered in Liam’s eyes. He shook his head. “I need to know more… I need to be absolutely sure Leo. I can’t – I need to be certain about this.”

Leo sighed, but he understood. He clasped his brother’s shoulder.

“All right, Liam… we’ll look into it.”

----

Fydelia, midnight

She could hear the staff whispering. They were getting restless. She had not left her rooms for a whole day now, barely eating anything. Even her mother had knocked on her door, voice devoid of its usual joie de vivre. Madeleine did not answer.

Damn you, Leo Rys! He had most likely ratted her out to his brother. I need to attack before they can regroup. I haven’t come this far just to fall short of the goal.

She walked away from the window. Her eyes alighted on her pearls. Leo, Liam, Constantine. The Rys men. They all used her when it was convenient then tossed her aside when it suited them. The apples never fell far from the tree.

An idea began to dawn in her mind. She walked towards her door and flung them open. A passing maid startled.

“Call my secretary to my office. We have work to do.”

----

The next day

When Kiara woke up that morning, she never imagined the chaos that was about to consume the palace. Madeleine is proving to be the bane of my existence, she fumed as she walked towards the King’s office. The others were already inside, with the addition of Leo and the absence of Drake.

Hana gave her hand a squeeze as she took her usual seat. Liam was pacing. Maxwell was unusually quiet, staring at the window outside instead of his phone. Olivia was scowling (no surprise there) while Hana sat as the ever-attentive lady. She was worried though. Kiara could see it in the way she held herself and in how her eyes, usually warm and kind, had darkened.

“Any updates?” Liam said as he stopped pacing.

“My department is currently working on taking out the fires,” Kiara answered. “The publication that picked up the story was a minor one, but they are rapidly gaining traction. The major outlets won’t be able to resist for long, given the… nature of the story.”

Kiara spared a glance at the little news magazine that was laid on the table before them.

Countess Speaks Up, Presents Infidelity as Real Cause of Divorce

“She saw him at the dinner,” Liam said, his fist clenched. “Damn it!”

“I thought she had gone after our little talk,” Leo spoke from his position by the empty fireplace. “She must have stuck around without me noticing. It’s my fault.”

“You couldn’t have known this would happen,” Hana countered. “Besides, there’s no use pointing fingers. We need to act fast.”

Liam shook his head. “I should have banned her from the palace entirely.”

“My informant told me she locked herself in her room before releasing the story. She’s desperate,” Olivia spoke. “Now would be the prime moment to pressure her into stopping. Before she gets up on her feet.”

“But we have nothing to bargain,” Hana pointed out. “Besides, from what she let slip from the dinner, this was her plan all along. To destroy the reputation of the crown.”

“I could arrange for a tragic accident,” Olivia offered. “One that will ensure she’s incapacitated for a few months at least.”

“No,” Liam said, voice hard. “We will not resort to bodily harm, Olivia.”

“Then we need to either discredit her or release a bigger story,” Kiara declared.

Liam looked at the framed photo on his desk, took a deep breath and sighed. “I wish it did not come to this,” he looked at Kiara. “Can I entrust you and yours with the campaign to discredit her?”

Kiara straightened on her seat. “You can count on us, Liam.”

The King nodded.

“Dismissed.”

The five of them left the King’s office. Kiara was nearly at her office when she noticed that she had left her phone back at Liam’s office. Cursing, she doubled back and quickly retraced her steps. As she neared the doors, she heard the faint sounds of a conversation inside. Her hand was about to knock when she caught fragments of what was being discussed.

“… regret to inform you… earlier than intended… recent events…”

Kiara withdrew her hand. Maybe later.

----

Private lounge, Cordonia International Airport, the next day

“It’s time to say goodbye, dear.”

Lucas shook his head, still clinging to Liam’s legs. It took all of Liam’s willpower not to cry. He cleared his throat.

“Might we have a moment alone?” his voice shook a little.

The Ambassador looked worried but nodded, gently ushering his sister and mother from the room. The Countess was the last one through the threshold, giving him a sad look as she closed the door.

Ever so gently, he untangled himself from Lucas’ grasp. He knelt to meet the boy’s red-rimmed gaze. The events of the previous days flashed in his mind. He might try to deny it, explain it away, but at the end of the day, he could not deny his feelings. This boy is his son. The countess’ reaction to the news all but confirmed it. And though his heart breaks at the thought of being separated from Lucas once more, he knew that this was the best way to protect him.

“It’s all right, my boy,” Liam said, holding back tears. “We’ll see each other again.”

His son (his son! He wanted to declare it to the world) pouted. “Promise?”

Liam managed a smile. “I promise.”

Lucas nodded reluctantly. “Okay… bye, Mr Liam.”

Before he could second guess himself, he said, “You know, you can stop calling me Mr Liam.”

Lucas’ face scrunched in confusion. “Why? D’you want me to call you Your Majesty again?”

“No, Lucas—“

“Your Highness?”

Without thinking about it, Liam blurted out, “What about Dad?”

Lucas furrowed his eyebrows. Liam couldn’t help but chuckle. He ran his hand through his son’s (Cassie’s son! Their child!) hair.

“What’s wrong with Dad?”

“What’s a dad?” Lucas asked, the picture of innocence.

Liam couldn’t help but laugh, tears beginning to stream down his face. He hugged Lucas, the boy immediately returning the gesture.

“Don’t be sad,” he whispered. “Dad… don’t be sad.”

Liam hugged him tighter, his heart shattering in his chest.

“You have no idea… how wonderful it is to hear you say that.”

A moment passed. Liam reluctantly ended the hug. Taking a deep breath, he busied himself by straightening Lucas’ jacket with the child still looking at him.

“Will you come and visit?” he finally asked. What was left of Liam’s heart leapt to his throat.

“Do you want me to visit?”

Lucas quickly nodded his head. “Yes! Please. Please. Please!”

Liam manages a smile. “Then, I’ll visit you as soon as I can.”

Someone knocked on the door. “They’re about to board,” the Ambassador’s voice followed the knock.

Liam’s heart sank. He hugged his son one more time.

“Bye, Dad,” Lucas whispered.

“Goodbye, little darling.”

Later

Liam watched through the glass windows as the plane carrying Lucas took off.

He was back to where he started four years ago.

----

Two weeks ago

Clara felt a tug on her skirt. A smile bloomed on her lips. She looked down and met Lucas’ gaze.

“Yes, dear?”

“Grandma, do I have a papa?’

She felt as though she was plunged in cold water. Goosebumps erupted along her arms. She kept a straight face.

“Why do you ask, love?” she asked, slowing kneeling to his height. Lucas shrugged. Her heart sank. “Did your playmates ask you?”

He shook his head. “Robbie said his papa was coming home,” he frowned. “Why does he have a papa and I don’t?”

She wasn’t expecting this question for a few more years at least. They had made sure that Lucas had never wanted for anything. As far as Clara was concerned, Cassandra had more than fulfilled the role of both mother and father to her son. Although she would see Cassie turn wistful whenever Lucas played with Charles or the majordomo and the rest of the male staff.

She opened her mouth but words failed her. She ran her hand through his hair. Her mind flashed to the journal Cassandra and Lucas found in their attic. The rational part of her thoughts said that if her cousin’s entries are true, then it was for the best that Lucas never met his father. That Cassandra did not marry the love of her life.

Recalling Cassie’s first few months and looking into Lucas’ questioning eyes, she found herself faltering. Could they really keep this up? What happens in a few more years, when Lucas starts asking questions they can’t easily brush away? For a moment, she imagined him growing up and wondering if every stranger he meets is his father. Clara’s heart ached.

Lucas interrupted her thoughts once more.

“Is Uncle Charlie my papa? He’s home sometimes too right?”

Clara shook her head, “No, dear. Charles is not your papa.”

As she said those words, she recalled the invitation that her son had extended to her. She began to form an idea.

“Grandma?”

The Countess snapped out of her recollections. She turned and saw that Lucas had somehow made his way towards her seat. A quick look of the cabin showed her an unbuckled seat belt and Elizabeth asleep in her own chair. She turned to Lucas, noticing that his eyes were turning puffy from his tearful departure earlier. For a moment, she was reminded of the countless nights she saw Cassandra crying during her pregnancy. Despite the blessing that is Lucas, Clara doubts that Cassandra had stopped. She had just gotten better at hiding after all these years. Clara mentally shook her head.

“Yes, dear?”

“What’s a dad?” he asked as he walked to her side.

Clara sighed. He finally stopped denying it. Why didn’t he wait? Remembering the farewell shared between Lucas and the King, Clara silently berated herself. Most likely he thought this was the last time they’d meet. Not for the first time, she wondered whether it was a good idea to introduce them without Cassandra present. Then again, if I left it to her, this might not even happen.

“Well…” she trailed off. He’s too young to understand it all. If this all goes downwind, he’ll be the first one hurt. Oh, but not knowing will also hurt him in the long run. It’s not my place to tell him… his mother should be the one to do so. She came upon another thought. Oh God help me… Cassandra. Is she ready for this?

Finally, she settled on a question. “Remember when you asked what a papa is?”

Lucas nodded. “He’s like Grampa Harrold. Or Daddy Pig,” his eyes widened. “Is Dad like Daddy Pig?”

“Dad?” she asked before she could think about it. He asked you to call him dad? Already?

Lucas smiled, bright and eager. “Mr Liam said I could call him Dad.”

“Do you want to call him dad?” Clara asked carefully.

Lucas nodded. “I like it. He liked it too,” his smile dimmed. “But he cried.”

“Oh, Lucas… come here, dear,” she gestured and Lucas climbed onto her lap, instantly cuddling with her.

“I said he should visit,” he mumbled. He looked up and met her eyes, “please let him visit me, Grandma. I’ll be good!”

She tried her best version of a reassuring smile, despite the knot forming in her stomach.

“I’ll talk to your Mommy about it, dear.” She might say yes. Just give her a few months.

As Lucas settled for a nap, Clara was once again lost in her thoughts.

Three weeks ago

Clara’s head pounded as she finished reading their cousin’s journal. She had a nagging thought that it might be important. She wished she was wrong. Page after page of horrors. A modern-day reign of terror, with the rest of the world oblivious to the atrocities committed. A silent war waged between factions of people with her cousin caught in the middle.

No wonder she left, Clara thought. I hope she’s safe wherever she is now. She shook her head. Of course, Cordelia is safe. Constantine moved on, married a different woman and died in his own time.

The dead can’t hurt you, a lesson that took a few years for Clara to learn. Still, she kept the journal and checked on Cassandra and Lucas as they slept in their own beds.

Just in case.

----

The Royal Palace

The room was cold when he walked in. Liam hardly noticed. The rest of the day had passed as a blur. He might have ignored his schedule. Liam couldn’t bring himself to care. Lucas was gone. Cassandra’s son. His son too. Half-his and half-hers. He never thought his heart could break any further.

With a heavy sigh, he sat on his bed. His eyes caught their picture together. I should have fought harder for you. For the both of you.

He put his head in his hands.

“You could always come visit…” Lucas’ eager voice said. Liam’s head snapped up. He picked up the photograph with surprisingly steady hands. His insides twisted and turned. This might be my last chance, he reminded himself.

Still holding onto the photograph with one hand, he took out his phone and called his secretary. He had a flight to get to.

Four years ago

He had led her to the centre of the maze. His personal haven. It seemed fitting somehow. He would finally confess his feelings in the same place they first shared a kiss in Cordonia. And, if fortune smiles down on him tonight, he would ask her to marry him there.

She could say yes.

She called his name, a smile on her lips. She never ceased to amaze him. He could sing her praises all night. She managed to thrive at court, win hearts and minds. His in particular.

“Liam?” She called his name. She is both his harbour and his siren’s song. Home.

He went to her. He’ll always go to her.

Edgewater was lush with life. Vibrant. A perfect little haven in the English countryside. It fits her, he decides. Cassandra is so full of life that everything she touches comes alive. In his more fanciful daydreams, he imagines her to be Persephone, a goddess of spring and life and renewal. She brought him to life four years ago, and like Hades, he was forced to give her up. Sparing another look on the grounds and gardens of the estate, he hoped that perhaps it’s now time for spring once more.

The thought of seeing her again called him forward. Liam felt like he was a traveller who was finally coming home. He took a deep breath and stepped out of the car. His heart seemed to pound harder with every step. After what seemed to be an eternity, he reached the double doors.

He raised his hand.

And knocked.

----

The Beaumont Lord

“Maxwell?”

Maxwell looked away from the window. He shrugged and proceeded to stir his tea. He could feel Olivia’s stare and could see, in his mind’s eye, Hana’s concerned frown. Someone brought their hand down the table. The china rattled. Maxwell’s head snapped up. It was Olivia.

“I’ve had it. You’ve barely said a word for days. Something’s wrong, so just spare us the dramatics and spit it out, Beaumont.”

“Olivia—“

“No, Hana. He’s been off since the dinner. And if we’re to watch over Cordonia, we need to be on top of our game,” she sent him a cutting glare. “That means all of us.”

Kiara, who was seated beside Hana sighed, “Olivia’s right ma cherie. Although,” she gave Olivia a warning look, “we could perhaps do it in a more diplomatic manner.”

Olivia rolled her eyes but relented. Hana spoke again.

“Please tell us what’s wrong, Maxwell. We just want to help.”

Maxwell sighed. He placed his cup of tea on the table.

“I, uh—I may have known where Savannah is?”

“For how long?” Kiara asked him, quickly grasping the implications of what he just said.

“Since…” he trailed off. He hung his head refusing to look them in the eyes, “since the beginning?”

“And you’ve kept this all from Drake?” Kiara prompted. He just nodded his head.

“Oh, Maxie…” Hana sighed. “That’s...“

“Impressive, “Olivia cut in. Maxwell looked up and caught her shrug at the two other ladies, “oh come now, you must admit that’s quite a feat. Especially from Maxwell. No offence.” She directed the last line at him.

“Uh, none taken?”

“So that’s why he went off,” Hana mused.

“Uh-huh. Why did you know Maxwell?” Olivia interjected.

Maxwell scratched his head. “I—uh…” Should I tell them? Might as well, right? Oohh boy. Here goes, “Well… you see… Savannah might have been pregnant when she left?”

Hana gasped, Kiara’s eyes widened and Olivia was rendered speechless. For a moment Maxwell wondered why they all looked so surprised. Then the implications of what he said caught up to him. He scrambled to correct his mistake.

“Wait! No! I’m not—that is—you see—I’m not the father!” he almost shouted, waving his hands about as though it would make his point clearer. “I was just helping her. I swear!”

The three ladies seemed to breathe out a sigh of relief. If he wasn’t coming off from an unexpected adrenaline rush, he would have found it extremely funny.

Olivia was the first one to recover, “So, how did you get involved?”

Here goes…

“Because—uh… Bertrand might be the father?”

Someone dropped their teacup. He could hear it shatter on the floor. All three ladies gaped at him, shocked.

There was utter silence.

Well, that could have gone better, Maxwell thought as he exited the parlour. As he walked down the grand staircase, he felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. Maxwell looked down the foyer. He stopped in his tracks. Drake Walker was standing near the double doors. Behind him, holding the hand of his nephew was Savannah Walker in the flesh.

The next few minutes were a blur to Maxwell. One moment he was standing near the end of the staircase, the next thing he knew, a fist had connected with his jaw. He clutched the railing for balance. In the distance, he could faintly hear a commotion. People were hurrying towards them. He could just make out Savannah’s pleas to stop.

But I’m not doing anything…

Drake seized his collar and pulled him closer. Rage was written all over his face.

“Explain. Now.”

----

There was a creek as the doors opened. Liam looked up from studying his shoes. Warm brown met obsidian. After four agonizing years, Cassandra Angles was finally standing in front of him.

Let me know if you guys want to be tagged!

perma-tag: @cora-nova series tag: @captain-kingliamsqueen @empressofpangaea @mirandatwodots @princesskennarys @emceesynonymroll @kingliam2019 @bobasheebaby @princess-geek @beardedoafdonutwagon @texaskitten30 @fbloveschoices @dcbbw @los-cafeteros @msjr0119 @hopefulmoonobject @whovianwriter @vaticanwaltz @typicalweirdbookworm @janezillow @cheyismaxi @lilaccatholic @supercoolperson0808

#series: once upon another time #emgee tries to write #liam x mc #king liam x mc #playchoices #choices: stories you play #choices trr #choices trh #trr #trh #the royal romance #the royal heir

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anarcoqueer1994 · 5 years ago

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Triple Date <3

Marty, Amber, and TJ plan a triple date for the Good Hair Crew. It's all fluff. Not one of my better stories but its cutish.

"It has to be just right!" Amber complained as she stared at the crooked string of fairy lights adorning the Kippen family's basement walls. At the present, she finds herself adjusting flowers in vases trying to get them exactly how she wants them.

"It will be, I promise." Her younger brother says as he grabs a chair to stand on so he can fix the offending lights.

"Sorry, I am just nervous. Tonight is a big deal to me. I really want to show Andi how important she is to me." She smiles.

"It is important to all of us." Marty chimes in, looking up from the table he attempting to set. He changes subject really quickly. "I kind of feel bad for excluding Jonah tonight."

"What were we supposed to do? I am sure he doesn't want to be a third...seventh wheel. Plus he has that guitar thing with Bowie" TJ replies while not looking away from the lights he is trying to place "just right."

"I guess you're not wrong." Marty resigns himself to that justification.

It isn't long until the finished basement looks perfect. They had moved all the furniture out of the main area, replacing it with three small fold out tables with two chairs around them each, all covered in white cloth tablecloths. At the center of the tables sat vases with fresh flowers poking out. The only light in the room comes from the white twinkling lights gracing the walls and hanging down from the ceiling. It looks like a scene straight out of a romcom.

"Are you sure they don't suspect anything?" Amber questions the two guys standing at either side of her.

"Why would they suspect anything?" Marty furrows his brows in confusion. "Did either of you let anything slip?"

"No, of course not!" TJ answers for them.

"It is just that they are really hard to surprise then, especially with Buffy involved." Amber continues.

"Well all we told them was to meet here so we can all head over to The Spoon together. We even got Jonah to play along in the group text like he was coming too so they don't get suspicious." Marty smiles at the lie he thought up.

"Yeah, you're right. There is no way they know we are up to something." TJ agrees confidently.

*************

"So we are in agreement that they are up to something." Buffy smirks at the other two members of the Good Hair Crew sitting in Andi's living room.

"Oh yeah, definitely." Andi nods her head as she speaks. "Remember earlier this week when we saw them all at The Spoon together? They got all weird and said they were studying. But like, Amber isn't in any of the junior classes with you guys. She's a senior. When I texted her about it, she changed the subject completely and ignored the question."

"I was at the store with my mom the other day and I saw Marty buying a ton of white Christmas lights. I made a joke and asked them what they were for and he got all nervous. He said some dumb thing about his family really loving Christmas. But it's March." Buffy looks at her friends in shared disbelief of his story.

"TJ has been weird too. Yesterday, we were at my house after school and we were just talking. I casually asked what his plans were this weekend and he got really flustered. After stuttering he said a vague thing about family plans. But now we all got this text asking us to meet at TJ and Amber's to go to The Spoon together even though they were supposed to have a "family thing." " He says with heavy air quotes. "As if after more than 3 years of dating, I wouldn't know when he's lying. " Cyrus frowns in confusion.

"Since when do we not just meet up at the diner, anyhow?" Buffy mirrors Cyrus' confusion.

"Wait you, guys!" Andi says as if something just clicked. She gets a big smile on her face.

"What?" the other two say in unison.

"In the group text, Jonah said he would be there...but that's a lie. Jonah is on his way here to go to some guitar thing with Bowie."

"So they are doing something... and Jonah knows what!" The other girl yells in excitement. "And he is on his way here now…" she gets a devious smile on her face.

"We can ask him a few questions before he has to leave with Bowie." Andi returns her smile.

"Maybe we should leave it alone?' Cyrus offers knowing full well that that is not going to happen. As expected, both girls roll their eyes.

As if like clockwork, there is a knock on the door. Buffy and Andi run for it, ready to bombard him with questions. Right before opening the door, they straighten themselves out. Cyrus stays on the couch.

"Hey Jonah." Andi gives an innocent smile.

"Yeah, hey Jonah.'' Buffy echos.

"Um hey? Is Bowie here?" Jonah looks caught off guard.

"Yea, he will be right down but how about you come sit in the living room with us for a minute, I insist." Buffy speaks in a way where he knows this isn't really a request as much as it is a demand. So when the two girls walk back to the couch, he follows them reluctantly.

Now the entire GHC is squeezed onto the couch staring at one confused dimpled frisbee player sitting across the room in the chair. Cyrus looks anxious while the other two lean forward on there hands, elbows resting on their knees.

"So Jonah…" Andi starts. "Um…'

"Let's cut to the chase." Buffy interrupts, not being one to beat around the bush. "Marty Amber, and TJ are up to something and we want to know what."

"I don't know what you are talking about…" Jonah says, obviously lying through his teeth.

"Come on, you know something...please?" Andi feigns a dramatic pout.

"Yea, please?" Buffy adds for dramatic effect.

"Enough, seriously guys. Can't you leave it alone...I promised them I wouldn't tell. Just go with it, okay? They have been working really hard." Jonah relents.

Suddenly the other three feel bad for even asking. Obviously this was important to them to keep this a secret and the GHC should respect that.

"Sorry…" Buffy says looking down. She hates apologizing. Cyrus smiles slightly. He had been right to want to leave it alone.

"Its okay." Jonah adds "But hey,since I have already given it a way a bit, I'm going to tell you that you guys should wear something nice."

Luckily Bowie walks in a few moments later, saving Jonah from the awkwardness that just ensued.

***********

Buffy, Cyrus, and Andi took Jonah's advice. They went to their separate homes to get ready before meeting back up to go to the Kippens. Andi has a soft pink dress, paired with a fun headband she made herself. Buffy was wearing a simple, knee length red dress with a high neckline. As for Cyrus, he opted for dress pants and a white, long-sleeved, button-down shirt.

"If I don't say so myself, we all look pretty great." Cyrus says in a confident voice as they step up onto the Kippens' front porch.

But however good they looked, could not prepare them for what was on the other side of the door. When the door opened, Andi was the first to get full heart eyes. Amber stood at the doorway in a simple black dress, with hair pulled up, only leaving a few framing pieces to fall around her face. Before Andi could speak, Amber says "You coming in, Bambi? Or are you guys going to stay there all night?" Amber reaches out her hand to Andi.

Andi tries to play dumb as she takes her girlfriend's hand. "But Amber, I thought we were going to the Spoon. Where are the guys?"

Amber lets out a little laugh. "Jonah already texted us telling us you guys suspect something, just come on." She says as she pulls Andi into the house. Before leaving the doorway though, she places a kiss on Andi's forehead. "You look adorable bu the way." Andi blushes before letting Amber lead her in the house. The other two follow close behind.

She leads them downstairs to the basement, not letting go of her girlfriend's hand. TJ and Marty are waiting at the bottom of the steps. The GHC look around in amazement. The basement looks unrecognizable. Soft music plays from a nearby speaker. There is food set out that smells delicious. Marty must have cooked, he makes the best food. Then they noticed the boys staring back at them.

Amber already has Andi pulled to her side, arm wrapped tightly around Andi's hip. Buffy and Cyrus can't help but smile in unison at their boyfriends. Marty wore a simple black button down and dress pants. TJ was dressed in Cyrus' favorite shirt, it was dark purple and made his green eyes look more vibrant. Cyrus stepped to his boyfriend, while out of the corner of his eye, he saw his best friend do the same.

"Teej? What is all this?" The shorter brunette asked while wrapping his arms around TJ's waist.

"Just trying to be romantic…" TJ replies in a soft voice, forgetting for a moment that the others are a few feet away. He drapes his arms over Cyrus' shoulders.

Cyrus smiles up at his boyfriend. "You are always romantic." Its true. TJ was a big softie when it came to Cyrus.

TJ, snapping back to the reality that the others are around, gives Cyrus a playful smile. Jokingly he comments "I know, I just thought I would help these two out." Cyrus laughs as both Marty and Amber roll their eyes.

Marty turns his attention back to the beautiful girl standing in front of him. "Hey" is all he can get out. Most of the time it is so easy with Buffy, but when he thinks about how lucky he is to be with her, he gets flustered. Like right this moment.

"Hey" She smiles back at the boy. "I take it you cooked?

"What gave it away?" He asks while taking her hand, still standing across from her.

"Well I watched Amber literally burn mac n cheese and TJ is not much better." She laughs.

"Well, as always, you're right." He smiles.

"I know." She replies with a cocky grin before softening her voice. "It really does look amazing in here and the food smells delicious. Thank you." She leans in and places a small kiss on his cheek.

Marty can't help but blush. He jokes "Watch it, Driscoll. You're not getting soft on me are you?" He flashes her a big smile before pulling her into a hug.

Before long, all six kids find themselves around the beautifully set tables, enjoying dinner and each other's company. Even though each couple is surrounded by two others, everyone feels like they are in their own little world. Amber is enthralled in the details of a photography project that Andi is currently working on for school. Buffy and Marty are deep in discussion about who really "carried" the Grant track and field teams this past season, all the while their smiles gave away that they were really proud of each other. Then there was TJ and Cyrus who have literally been hold hands across the table the entire time they have been eating, just being sickeningly sweet and cute with each other.

Tyrus

"Hey Cy…" TJ whispers, leaning forward in his seat, prompting Cyrus to do the same so their faces were as close as they could be with a table separating them.

"Yeah, Teej?" Cyrus says in an equally soft voice.

TJ takes a quick glance around to ensure that everyone is distracted by their own stuff before continuing. He looks back at the brunette staring at him. "Let's go upstairs...I want to show you something…"

Cyrus looks down at his almost empty plate before glancing back up. "Okay." He flashes a big smile and lets his boyfriend drag him to the steps and up to the first floor. TJ leads him to his bedroom.

When they reach the room, Cyrus sits on the edge of TJ's bed, eyeing up the athlete as TJ searches for something in his desk drawer. After a moment, TJ pulls out a piece of paper and hands it to Cyrus. The paper in question was TJ's midterm Algebra exam. Cyrus knew that everyone got their exams back a few days ago. When TJ hadn't mentioned his, Cyrus figured it didn't go well and he did not want to push.

But here, looking down, Cyrus sees a B+ written in a light blue ink on the top of the page. His face lights up. TJ is nervously watching his boyfriend's reaction, biting anxiously at his bottom lip. Cyrus looks up and flashes TJ the biggest smile. He stands and steps closer to his boyfriend.

Cyrus cups one of TJ's cheeks with his hand. "I am so proud of you, baby." He leans in, placing a small kiss against TJ's lips before pulling back. He smiles when he sees his boyfriend blushing, even after all these years together.

"Thanks, Muffin." TJ whispers. "I wouldn't of been able to do it without you…"

"Teej, while I appreciate that, you're wrong. You are the one who worked hard and did this."

"Yea...but you have never given up on me. So thank you." Both boys can't help but smile at each other for a long time, almost as if they could not keep their eyes off of each other.

Eventually they end up sitting on the floor, leaning against TJ's bed. Cyrus lays his head on TJ's shoulder as TJ rests his arm around Cyrus. They stay like that for a while.

Ambi

Amber has noticed her brother slip away with his boyfriend a while ago. She kinda likes the idea of being alone with her girlfriend too. She smiles at Andi.

"Hey, do you want to see something cool?"

"Uh...sure?" Andi says confused at the sudden change in subject.

"I promise, its great, Bambi." Amber flashes a beautiful grin.

"I'm sure it is." Andi smiles back. She can't help it when Amber is looking at her like that.

Amber practically pulls Andi from her seat and leads her all the way upstairs, until they reach the attic.

"Why are we up here, Ambs?" Andi looks around, confused.

"Just trust me, okay?" Amber says confidently. Andi nods and continues to watch her girlfriend.

Amber walks to a window and opens it up. "Come here." She tells Andi.

As Andi steps closer, Amber climbs through the window onto a flat piece of roof jetting out from under the window from an awning. Andi takes a deep breath and follows her lead. Amber sits down and motions for Andi to come close and do the same.

Andi settles next to blonde, taking her hand into her lap so she can delicately run her fingers over Amber's knuckles. Amber quietly says "Look, babe. You can see the whole town from here…" This was the place Amber would go when she needs to be alone, and now she is sharing it with Andi. She doesn't even bring TJ up here.

Andi looked out and Amber was right. She could see rows of houses, lights coming fro. windows and nearby street lights. It was strangely beautiful. "Amber, I think I know what my next photography project is going to be." The dark haired girl smiles as she pulls out her phone.

"Oh yeah? This beautiful view, right?" Amber says while still looking forward at the scene below them. Her hand still rests in Andi's lap.

"Yea...this beautiful view." She whispers before secretly snapping a gorgeous shot of Amber staring out into the night. "It truly is so pretty…" They settle into a comfortable silence.

Muffy

As Andi and Amber ascend the stairs to leave, Buffy smirks at Marty. "Looks like we're the only ones left."

"Is that a bad thing?" He questions.

"Doesn't have to be. I mean, I gueeessss I like hanging out with my boyfriend." She jokes before continuing in a much more sincere voice, "I am having a really nice time. How'd I end up so lucky?"

"You think your lucky?" He laughs. "Buffy, I can't tell you how many times I ask myself what I did to deserve to have the coolest girl I have ever met as my girlfriend." He gushes. "You are an amazing athlete, like you are varsity in two different sports, while also being top on our class. You're funny, and you get me like know one else does. What can I say, you are under my skin, Driscoll."

He swears he sees Buffy blush, but knows she won't admit it so he just smiles to himself. A song comes on in the background, Samson by Regina Spektor. It's slow and soft.

"Hey, do you wanna dance?" She asks as her eyes meet his instead of replying to what he said.

"Yea, sure." He gives a small smile before standing up and taking her hand. They slow dance together in that dimly lit basement. Marty has his arms around her waist, while Buffy rests her head against Marty's shoulder. In a voice almost too quiet to hear, she says "I love you, you know that right?"

"Yeah...I know." He whispers quickly back. "I love you, too." The couple stays like that, slightly swaying long past the slow song ended.

****************

Everyone had an amazing time that night, with each one staying with their partner for a long time alone, before one-by-one they all made their way to the living room. They end up watching some cheesy horror film, cuddling together in the dark room lit only by the TV. Then, just like Cinderella, people have to head home as the clock strikes midnight. Marty drove so he offers to take everyone to their houses.

That night, not a single person could sleep, as they all sat up, thinking about the night they had.

@abg-blah

#andi mack #fanfic #Tyrus #Muffy #Ambi #Amber #andi #tj #cyrus #Marty #Buffy #Also Marty is trans #just a fact

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shieldedbythunder · 5 years ago

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Today in Thundershield AUs I May Never Get Around to Writing But Still Love to Think About

So, one of my favourite musicals is She Loves Me, which has a lovely mutual pining/mistaken identity/enemies-to-friends-to-lovers type of plot, so naturally, I started to imagine it with a Thundershield slant. Pardon me while I dump my feels in your laps wax lyrical.

So first of all there’s Steve Rogers, a sales clerk in Tony Stark’s perfumerie in 1940s New York. Maybe not the most glamourous job out there, but it pays well, nobody there minds his asthma and constant illnesses, and he considers the staff good friends.

Plus it’s nice to hang around people like Natasha and Sam, who know all about his preference of men and don’t see anything wrong with it. What’s more, they know about his “Dear Friend” from the Lonely Hearts Club, the man he’s been in correspondence with for nearly six months without exchanging names, and they think it’s high time he arranged a meeting with this long distance gentleman caller.

Then one morning, in comes Thor Odinson, all six foot-two, piercing blue eyes and bulging muscles of him, looking for a job. Tony puts him on a trial run for the day, but Thor’s so charming with the customers that they’re shaking hands to seal the deal before noon.

And it’s great! Everyone likes working with Thor, and he gets along well with the customers, even if he can be a little hot-headed and a bit too self-assured at times. The only problem is that, well, Steve and Thor get a little… prickly around each other. Nothing that would escalate into full hatred or a fight (Thor could probably knock Steve over with a good hard sneeze), just daily bouts of sniping and bickering over the smallest things.

Thor gets annoyed beyond belief sometimes, but mostly he’s just confused, can’t understand what he could possibly have done to make Steve dislike him so.

Steve knows he’s being an ass, and feels ashamed of his behaviour, but he gets so nervous around Thor, who breezed into the job so easily where it was near impossible for Steve to get work before Tony took him in. Who could so easily push Steve right out of his job just by being stronger and healthier and more useful. It’s stupid and immature, he’s painfully aware, but he can’t help but get defensive. Every morning, he walks into work resolving to try and be nicer to Thor, and every evening they part ways stewing over their latest spat.

A month or two passes, and Steve decides to take Sam and Nat’s advice. He writes to Dear Friend to set up a dinner, books a place in a nice restaurant for Friday night, and patiently sits through Bucky and Sam’s attempts to apply their experience with dames to Steve’s situation (the thought is still appreciated).

Before he knows it, it’s Friday evening and he’s finishing up in the shop before heading to the restaurant. He’ll admit he’s a little nervous; it’s hard enough to find another man who shares his inclinations, never mind one who won’t be disappointed when they see Steve in person. But Dear Friend knows all about his medical conditions, has never been anything but kindly and warm - Steve’s feeling optimistic. Excited, even.

Not even his latest session of head-butting with Thor could bring him down - something about Thor needing the evening free for an important appointment, and getting riled up when Steve wouldn’t swap shifts. Thankfully, Wanda had volunteered before things got too heated.

He arrives at the restaurant, going over the plan one last time. He’ll walk in, the white rose (love at first sight, the book had said they meant - well, he is being optimistic) in his lapel and carefully hidden from prying eyes by his scarf, as agreed. Dear Friend will be carrying a copy of Anna Karenina (which he read and loved after Steve mailed him his old copy), Steve will reveal the rose, and then… well, he hasn’t thought quite that far ahead yet, but they’ll cross that bridge when they get to it.

Plucking up his courage, he walks in the door… and is mortified to see Thor sitting at a table - the last thing he needs is somebody from work seeing him and asking questions.

After a moment, irritation takes over from panic - after all the fuss he’d kicked up over his shift, his insistence that he simply couldn’t work this evening, all Thor had wanted was a free evening for a date. At least, Steve assumes it’s a date, as he observes from out of sight - there’s something almost painfully eager about Thor’s expression as his eyes roam around the restaurant, clearly waiting for somebody, fingers drumming on a book on the table that - wait a second.

He recognises that book. Can’t count the number of times he’s thumbed through it. It’s his copy of Anna Karenina, the one he sent to Dear Friend. Sitting at Thor’s elbow.

This can’t be happening. Thor? Arrogant, hot-headed Thor was the same man who’d written him such tender, heartfelt letters for nearly a year now?

Unfortunately, it’s at this moment that Thor sees Steve gaping at him, and his heckles immediately go up. He’s waited long enough to meet his Dear Friend, and he’s not going to let Steve ruin the evening. They end up arguing again, and Steve storms out of the restaurant, convinced it must have all been some prank.

He sticks around near the restaurant for the evening, waiting to see what Thor will do next. But eventually, closing time comes, and Steve’s stomach sinks when he sees Thor’s the last to leave, looking close to tears as he trudges home, cradling the old book so tenderly between those big hands of his.

The next morning, Thor calls in sick with a cold, and Steve, full of remorse for his behaviour, decides to use his lunch hour to make sure he’s okay.

When Thor answers the door, he assumes that Steve’s checking in to see if he’s really sick or just skipping work, and gets suspicious and surly.

But then, Steve presents him with a tub of ice cream. Strawberry, his favourite - he remembered an off-hand comment of Thor’s, weeks ago now, about how his mother would buy him ice cream when he was sick as a child, to cheer him up.

Completely taken aback by Steve’s gesture, Thor invites him in, and they spend a surprisingly pleasant hour chatting over coffee and ice cream, Thor wrapped up in blankets at the kitchen table.

Steve apologises for his behaviour since Thor started at the shop, but especially for how out of line he was at the restaurant last night. Thor apologises too - he was tense last night, true, but he’s been giving just as good as he gets this whole time with Steve. In hushed tones, he admits the nature of last night’s rendez-vous to Steve, clearly expecting to be laughed at. After all, who actually joins those Lonely Hearts Clubs unless they’re absolutely desperate?

Which he is, but Steve doesn’t need to know that.

But again, Steve surprises him. He finds the whole thing rather romantic, he says, and hopes that Thor and his Dear Friend will be able to patch things up, admitting that his own meeting with a penpal the night before didn’t go quite as he’d hoped for.

He means to tell Thor everything, he really does. But every time Steve tries to find the words, something holds him back. He wants this, he truly does - and he thinks he could be truly happy if it were with Thor. But he needs to be sure that Thor feels the same. That he’d be okay with Steve and Dear Friend being one and the same. Soon, he tells himself, trying to ignore how his heart jumps up into his mouth at the thought.

It’s only after Steve leaves and he’s settling down to write another letter, that it occurs to Thor - he’d told the ice cream story at work, true, but he’s positive he never mentioned his favourite flavour. He begins to wonder…

The next three weeks are the lead up to Christmas, but even in all the chaos and hubbub of last minute shoppers, everyone at the shop is thunderstruck by the difference that’s come over Steve and Thor.

For the first few days, they’re perfectly cordial, No arguments, no dirty looks, and any smiles they share don’t look forced any more.

But then, they start talking and laughing with each other, getting coffee together after work, recommending various books and music to one another. Steve helps Thor pick out a gift to send back home to his mother, and Thor brings Steve to a good art shop near his apartment that isn’t too costly.

It’s almost like *gasp* they’re friends!!!

And all the while, they dance around each other, trying (and failing) to pluck up the nerve to ask each other the question of Dear Friend’s identity - both of them terrified of rejection.

Finally, Christmas Eve arrives, and Steve and Thor volunteer to lock up the shop while everyone else heads home (because of COURSE they have to end up alone together). It’s nice, having a chance to take a breather and just talk after the madness of the last few hours.

The talk soon turns back to their penpals, with Thor saying he’s thinking about setting up another meeting with his Dear Friend soon. Steve stays vague about his own contact, heart in his mouth, but wishes Thor all the best with it.

Just as they’re about to leave, Thor takes his hands and tells him, as poorly as that last attempt at a meeting with Dear Friend went, he’s so grateful that he and Steve have been able to put things aside and get as close as they have because of it.

And Steve sees the look in Thor’s eyes, so soft and wistful, and it’s like a shot of liquid courage. He takes the leap and tells Thor everything, going to pull Thor’s latest letter from where he keeps it in his breast pocket for proof.

But he doesn’t even need it. The words are barely even out of Steve’s mouth when Thor’s lips are on his, arms tight around him, murmuring “I KNEW it” with so much joy and relief between kisses, and before they know it, they’re both laughing and crying a little and spinning around the darkened shop and all is WELL for their gay little hearts and mine.

FIN.

@leisurelypanda @heapsofspaghetti

#i do hope to write this someday #just need to learn how to longfic *finger guns*#thundershield #steve rogers #thor odinson #text post #conor rambles #long post #i cannot apologise enough for just how long this behemoth is

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five-wow · 6 years ago

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9.20 thoughts! this got very long, just as an fyi.

not even a minute in and some guys sold a teenage girl a gun. oh boy.

on the plus side: i remember which episode this is now! it’s the one with the gun that somehow has a connection to lots of five-0 members’ lives!

the banter between those two cops was really fun (and not as stilted as it sometimes is when a random Cop Or Security Duo shows up!) and then one of them got shot and something like that kind of HAD to happen but i’m still sad

OKAY so the first connection is that junior is friends with one of the guys who sold the gun and the guy shows up at HQ and i was like, oh no, but then he tells junior what he did!!! that’s so good!!! i’m weirdly proud of this very minor side character who did a very bad thing

DANNY. THERE’S DANNY. i technically knew he had to be in this episode somewhere because i’ve seen photographical evidence of it here on tumblr, but THERE HE IS. YAY. i mean, i love almost all of the main cast, but i think part of the reason why it took me a month to watch the previous episode was because danny wasn’t in it. it still just doesn’t feel right. it’s like there’s something missing. and here that something is!

junior and his buddy leave and steve and danny are alone in the office and steve said something case-related directly to danny and i’m weirdly excited about that, too!! my bars are literally so low.

BABY STEVE. baby steve is watching inspector gadget, oh my gosh, aw.

i love how doris is supposed to be there and she picks up the phone and tells mini steve to turn down the tv, but we never see any part of her except a hand and some hair because they didn’t hire the actress for this episode. so subtle.

i am... so conflicted about this scene. on the one hand, mini steve is super cute. on the other, we’re probably supposed to like young john here and think he’s a Good Dad but i just... kind of low key hate everything he does. he looks annoyed when doris tells him the call is for him, like she’s bugging him somehow after being the one who picked up the phone in the first place, and the whole “i have to go to work. take care of your mom while i’m gone, okay?” that he says to steve is so bad, omfg. steve is what, five? i know the “man of the house” thing is very common in media but it’s! so! stupid! doris is a grown woman and steve is a tiny little boy - doris has to (and can!) take care of steve, not the other way around, god. /rant

oh! we do get a full body shot of doris but it’s blurry doris! and she’s SUPER PREGNANT which makes the fact that john let her get up to answer the phone in the first place kind of bad too, actually, oh boy.

doris: “john, if something was wrong you’d tell me, right?” john: “i’m not gonna lie to you, i don’t know. just lock the door behind me, i’ll try to call you as soon as i get this straightened out.” OMG WHAT. okay a) this is hilarious knowing as we do that doris was actually a highly trained cia agent/assassin and probably way more skilled than john and outranks him by far, fjdkfd, and b) i’ll give john a little credit for being somewhat honest and not just going with “no, everything’s totally fine, don’t worry”, but the answer he does give is almost worse because it’s so incredibly vague, holy shit. he says “i’m not gonna lie to you” and he doesn’t, but he also doesn’t tell doris who called or what they said or why he’s suddenly leaving for work in the middle of the night or why he thinks she needs to lock the door.

i’m only six minutes in at this point. i’m talking too much oh gosh

WAIT WAIT WAIT. john is offering himself up as a hostage, alone and unarmed and without backup, and THAT’s the “oh, i don’t know if there’s something wrong honey” situation he was leaving for? john. the fuck. now the “i’m not gonna lie” was definitely a lie after all.

the guy with the gun: “you’re such a good boy, john.” i respectfully disagree, my man.

the guy with the gun apparently killed his business partner and john arrested him (of course) and he and john have a talk about it where the guy is like “i shouldn’t have gone to prison!” and john is like “you got off lightly!” and it’s okay but. john is so smug about it and i hate that. he’s probably supposed to look bad ass and cool but i just. i just really dislike it. it’s this macho man thing and i’m not into it at all.

guy with gun, talking about his son: “you made sure he grew up without a father.” this, um, kind of made me laugh, because apparently that’s one of john’s specialties - for this guy’s kid by sending him (probably deservedly) to prison, sure, but later also his own kids by sending them away, fdjfkd. wow.

ooohhhh the gun guy said “steve, right?” and the frame kind of flipped to present day steve and that was very cool! i loved that.

2010 danny! and he’s talking to grace on the phone!!! already love it.

i also love that they gave him a baseball cap, presumably to hide the kind of obvious difference in hair that nine years brought.

danny kind of snubs the local food and it’s very 2010!him, but oh danny. it’s not the poor shop owner’s fault that your ex dragged you there against your will.

oh BOY. the shop gets robbed and the owner shot (which was expected, of course, when a main character wanders in there at night), and then danny asks the random woman shopping there to keep pressure on the owner’s wound until the ambulance gets there (which... he hasn’t called, and he also hasn’t told her to call for one, so that, uh, might take a long, long while) and then he takes the shop owner’s shotgun and RUNS AFTER THE SHOOTER. which is very heroic of him but also makes every single complaint he has in season 1 about steve’s daredevil approach to law enforcement VERY IRONIC.

oh, danny loses the guy and NOW he calls it in, fjdkfkd.

jerry is doing some smart tracking thing on the computer and it’s pretty regular h50 stuff but there’s an email adress on the screen that’s literally “gunlover[bunch of numbers]” and i’m screaming oh gosh

they already found the girl! but her dad is understandably not that jazzed about letting his daughter be investigated for murder. but good job on tracking her down so quickly!

2015 tani at a party!!! aww.

ohhh gosh koa is target shooting with the gun, which probably means he’s going to end up getting framed for something, oh no.

oh boy, tani has the same concerns so she confronts her boyfriend about it but she also knows her boyfriend’s in a gang and then the police comes knocking at his door about a murder, so that’s not going to end well.

ooh, 2015 tani was a police informant! and she’s talking to a pretty cool female detective and i appreciate that, even though you’d have to squint to count this scene as passing the bechdell test because almost every sentence references tani’s boyfriend, the boyfriend’s gang or tani’s brother.

steve and danny are interrogating a suspect together!! i might be completely wrong, but i feel like we haven’t seen that in a while.

suspect: “i don’t know if either of you guys are married, but even if it goes south, you can’t shut down some of those feelings, you know? like the ones that go right down into the core.” HMMM. INTERESTING. the camera is literally on danny’s face for a good portion of this, gosh.

they close their main case and i thought for a moment there was going to be some big twist because the episode isn’t near over yet, but instead they realize that this gun was used for a whole bunch of other crimes. it’s a “community gun”! i love that term, wow. how nice and cooperative of them all, sharing this one piece between them.

danny recognizes his case from the ones on the screen!!! and he tells the rest of them that he went to get a bite to eat on his first night in hawaii and that the store was robbed, and i’m kind of glad that at least the team seems to recognize that this is extraordinarily bad luck, ha.

also, steve barely reacts to danny’s story, so i’m taking that to mean that he definitely already knows it. which would make total sense! this seems like the kind of thing danny would rant about at some point during one of his “why i hate hawaii” tirades in season 1, but still, i like that. they know each other.

fjdkfjdk i LOVE how the whole team is standing there and piecing together the fact that they have connections to a ridiculous number of the crimes committed with this one gun, and jerry keeps commenting about how freaky it all is. this is so much fun, awww.

young john gets shot but of course he was wearing a vest, because he can’t die yet, because he needs to save that for a moment much later when he’s scarred his kids more and when he can die horribly on the phone with his son.

OKAY BUT “d. lukela”!!!! i’ve been watching the john bits very sceptically at this point but THIS I DID NOT SEE COMING and i ADORE IT.

john: “listen, duke, i’m not gonna lie to you man...” WHY do you keep saying that john, omfg. at least this time you’re telling the truth about not lying, i suppose. 50% not lying about not lying isn’t much, but it’s a start.

steve!! remembers!! that night!! and it’s because he was six and really scared because he knew something was wrong oh nooo

danny and tani talking in the car is super nice!!! and danny gets to drive the camaro for once which, wow, that’s pretty shocking

ahhhhh, the only thing this danny+car scene was missing was steve and then he CALLS. very good.

i just. listen. i just love danny. the way he keeps butting into the tense conversation between tani and this guy she used to know who she put in prison? it’s both hilarious and secretly very kind, because it’s making the moment so much more bearable for tani.

danny and tani find the guy from the convenience store robbery and he just turns around and puts his hands on his back to be cuffed when they ask him to! he doesn’t pull out a gun from somewhere or even try to run away! holy shit!

duke and steve are in california rounding off steve’s dad’s case and of course they get shot at before even knocking on the door and then the suspect runs for it, too. maybe it’s just steve. maybe their work would be a lot easier if steve’s presence didn’t magically make all the suspects shoot and run.

and the gun gets put away in a box in evidence storage, closing the case(s). aww. that’s a nice end.

okay, so, as much as i complain about john mcgarrett, i did really enjoy this episode very much! it was a really fun idea to have this gun travel around the island and use it to show little parts of characters’ backstories and i liked the execution of it too, plus the pacing was good and it had some funny moments and it had (very importantly) danny in it. and tani’s background!!! i think that was the one that surprised me most, because danny being a good cop with bad luck and steve having a not-so-great dad are a bit of a given at this point (though i still enjoyed seeing that, too!), but we knew precious little about tani’s life before five-0, and apparently there’s a huge story there. knowing what this episode showed us, i kind of want her to have a conversation with kamekona at some point - they both had a youth where they (almost) went the wrong direction, and they both got out of that in part for the sake of their brothers, and then they both ended up in the five-ohana somehow, which is probably not a place they ever saw themselves. i don’t know, i just love the idea of this unexpected friendship/understanding between two characters who don’t seem to have a lot in common at first glance.

also, more general comment: the funny thing is, until i watched this episode i hadn’t realized how much i missed this silly show and its silly characters over the past month. i totally did that not-watching-it thing to myself (not even intentionally, but still) and clearly it was more of a mistake than i realized because oh my god it felt good to see them all on my screen again, gosh. :D

#9.20 #h50 #this!! this is the kind of thing i want more of #*

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ladyseaheart1668 · 6 years ago

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Endless Summer Book 4 : Daughter of Vaanu (Chapter 30)

Description: Caleb plots his next move while Nicholas Montoya is reunited with his sister.

Tagging: @xo-endlessmayhem-xo ; @princesstopgun : @mysteli @endlesshero1122 ; @whatmcsaid

Note: In this chapter, I want to give special thanks to @endlesshero1122 , who not only gave me a great idea, but invented five characters and blessed me with full permission to use them. One of them, though not yet named, appears in this chapter, and he and the other four will continue to appear in the future.

Chapter 30: Shadowed Voices

Estela

I'm sure my vise-like grip is hurting Quinn's hand, but to her credit and my great relief, she doesn't ask me to loosen it. I don't know if I could just at this moment. The silence in the living room of my mother's apartment is deafening as she and her older brother stare at each other through a computer screen. I tremble violently as I watch my mother's eyes start to shimmer, until finally, she takes a shuddering breath and the tears spill over.

“...Nicholas...? Say something...”

“Livita...” My Tio's voice cracks with emotion. “...Livita, where have you been...?”

“Well...for the last five years, I have been in a fugue state in a mental hospital in Florida. Before that is...harder to explain. But I want you to know, Nicholas, because I don't want you to believe even for a moment that I could have left you or Estela without me by choice.”

“I could never...”

“...What I want to tell you is sensitive information, Nicholas. As sensitive as any information you have ever dealt in. ...It was enough to get me killed once, and I would rather tell you in person. Estela and I can be in San Trobida in about six hours.”

“Yes...Dios mio...of course...but...Livita...” Tio gulps audibly. “Livita, are you real? I...surely must be dreaming...”

“In six hours, I will be in San Trobida with my daughter, and you will see that I am real. ...I love you, Nicholas.”

A sob escapes him. “Livita...I love you...I love you, my sister...please come home...”

Caleb

One thing I can say for Gigi's operation is that it pays well. It's part of how she keeps her squatters loyal. She runs her gang like the mafia, or a Golden Age pirate crew, where all the treasure is divided equally, after dues are collected for the maintaining of the abandoned houses where she's set up. I have enough in my pocket to hole up in a cheap motel for a couple days and eat cheap, greasy food for a few meals. I also get a couple decent showers out of the deal while I wrestle with Tahira's offer.

I could just walk away. She says she doesn't think I'm going to go crazy or get sick from exposure to the Prism Crystal, which is really all that I was worried about. ...But I just keep hearing her voice in my head saying it's bigger than Silas Prescott. It's bigger than Northbridge. It's bigger than all of us.

Fuck me, I shouldn't care. I'm not a hero. I don't care about the rest of the world. Just myself and my little corner of it. …But I can't deny that the whole world includes my own little corner of it, much as I would like to pretend otherwise. Besides, I'm not lacking in curiosity.

Still...having to earn Talos' trust does give the whole deal the bitter taste of impossibility. Maybe I should save myself the frustration and just walk away. The only thing that really stops me is knowing that if I do, I won't have another chance. Talos and Minuet are formidable enough on their own, but with Dragonness back on their side...well, I'm an anarchist, but I'm not suicidal. Plus, Dragonness is just...so...fuck me, she's intriguing. As Dragonness, as Tahira...there's something compelling about her. I don't know, but it makes me believe that she isn't a complete tool of the system. That maybe there's hope for her or something. There's hope with her. …Fuck me, I haven't believed in another human being in twenty years. So what the fuck is happening to me?

I buy a burrito, a can of generic beer, and a pack of Camels in a convenience store in Bayside. The cashier is a young, dark-haired guy who looks about sixteen, and who needs his grizzled biker manager to ring up the beer and smokes. I wander outside and lean against the wall of the building while I eat the burrito and guzzle the beer. I toss the empties in the trash and pull a cigarette from the pack. I snap my fingers to summon a small flame and light it. I take a drag and let the carcinogenic smoke fill my lungs.

The bell on the door dings as the teenage cashier slips outside, huddled up in a ratty windbreaker that might have been lime green once. He glances over at me.

“Hey, mister? Can you spare five bucks?”

I exhale a cloud of smoke, slipping him a sidelong glance. “You're the one with a job, kid.”

He grins ruefully. “I mostly don't spend my paycheck on myself. I support four kids and a dog on minimum wage. I just need a few bucks so I can get lunch. Otherwise, I don't eat until dinner.”

I'd say he's laying it on thick, but the hurried, tired way he explains it makes me think he gives this spiel a lot, and is in fact growing pretty tired of it. Still...

“Not a very convincing story, kid. Not unless you got some kind of super sperm and you knocked up a chick with quadruplets, only to have her abandon you with the kids and the dog.”

He sighs, rolling his eyes. “They're not my kids, they're my brother and three cousins. Can you spare a few bucks or not?”

I frown, taking a good look at the kid for the first time. Some kinda South Asian ancestry in him, I think. He's kinda scrawny and scruffy, like a stray animal. That windbreaker might as well be tissue paper in the biting early November chill. He says he isn't spending his paycheck on himself, and it kinda looks like no one else is, either.

“You support them? How old are you, anyway?”

His gaze suddenly gets hard. “Older than I look.”

“Yeah, but four kids...? No parents...? I mean, that's just asking for a visit from child services.” As I look of panic crosses his face, I pull a five dollar bill out of my pocket and hold it out to him. “Relax. I'm not looking to add you to the system. Though...If I were you, I'd be more careful who I tell about looking after four kids.”

A blush creeps to the surface of his tawny cheeks as he snatches the money from my hand, muttering his thanks. I watch him rush back into the store, my eyes lingering for a moment on the empty space where he was. Then, I shake my head to dislodge the vague concern that's creeping in on the edges of my thoughts. A bunch of kids trying to escape the foster system isn't a priority right now. Figuring out how to get Talos to trust me is the priority. Learning about what I am is the priority. I take a last drag on my cigarette and toss it to the ground to grind the butt under my heel.

...Talos isn't gonna be convinced if I just round up criminals and turn them over to the DA. No one is going to be convinced that way. ...But if I can figure out on my own what's so much fucking bigger than all of us, maybe I can figure out a way to help the superhero squad avert the apocolypse. And on that score, I think I know where to start.

...Everything begins with La Huerta.

Nicholas Montoya

It is nearly midnight by the time I reach the airport, where a charter flight carrying my niece and my little sister is supposed to be landing. I am terrified. I am terrified that I was dreaming Estela's call, my little sister's face beside her daughter. Even when I see her coming down the steps out of the plane, I and still sure that I am going to wake up any moment and she'll be gone again. She looks...barely altered from the last time I saw her. I have aged eleven years, and she has barely aged a day. I approach her cautiously, as if a sudden movement might cause her to vanish like a frightened deer. I don't speak as I place my hands on her shoulders, staring at her face, trying to memorize every detail. Finally, she smiles.

“...I'm real, Nicholas.” She wraps her arms around my neck, and I have the presence of mind to embrace her back. That's the moment when I realize that Olivia and Estela have not come alone. Over Olivia's shoulder, I can see that there is a red-haired young woman standing close to Estela. Apparently noticing where my gaze has landed, Estela clears her throat.

“Tio, this is my friend, Quinn. She was on La Huerta with me.”

So much said in so few words. This young woman was on La Huerta, where I thought my sister had died. Where for six months, I was sure my niece had died, too. Quinn was there. She was one of Rourke's prisoners. She knows same secrets Estela knows. I pull back, looking at my sister.

“...Let's go home. I want to know everything that you are willing to tell me.”

“And we would like for you to know everything.”

* * *

As the three women lay out the facts for me over coffee at our kitchen table, I realize very quickly that “everything” is...quite a lot. Quite a lot that I have never imagined possible. Time travel. Other dimensions. Alien beings from another world, and a conspiracy to use those aliens to achieve untold power.

“...Alodia said that ultimately, Rourke wanted to use her power to build himself an empire,” Estela concludes grimly. “It seems he has not entirely lost sight of that ambition.”

I am quiet for a moment, considering all I have heard.

“...I am honored that you trust me with this information.”

“Of course we trust you, Tio. Besides, you have experience with tyrants and dictators. We may end up needing your help.”

“Right now, though, Rourke is contained,” I point out.

“I know. ...But no prison is escape-proof. And Rourke is a slippery demon.”

“I believe your caution is wise,” I agree. “But right now, perhaps what we should think about is your mother...” I look up at my sister, “...and what she wants.”

“Right now,” Olivia replies, “What I want is to be with my family.”

Raj

With the camera crew following behind me, I stroll through Campagna Amica in Rome, carefully choosing ingredients for an authentic Italian pasta carbonara. I talk as I go, commenting on each ingredient, making sure I explain every choice. Lila follows well behind the camera, watching me curiously, silent until I've paid and headed back to the car with my supplies. When the cameras are off and we've climbed into the backseat, she looks over at me with fascination.

“...So...is this what you do for a living now?”

I grin. “Pretty much. Travel the world, cook delicious food, meet fans...it's a pretty sweet life.”

“...And Diego is a professor, Sean is a professional football player, Michelle is a doctor, Quinn is healthy and running a charity...”

“Yeah. We're all doing really well.” I hesitate a moment, before speaking again, but I decide to add, “Even Jake, now that he has Alodia back. He was...kind of touch-and-go for awhile after Lundgren's trial.”

“Raj...did he really put her in a stasis tube? Is that really where you found her? ...Or was it true what Rourke said about her? That she's one of the crystal people? That she was part of the Island's Heart?”

Again, I hesitate, but Lila's in this as much as any of us. And even if she turns on us, it's not like Rourke doesn't already know what Alodia's origins are.

“It's the latter. The stasis tube was the story we told to explain her return. The long and short of it is that she gave up her own existence to restore the world without turning it over to Rourke. But thanks to the Prism Crystal, she was able to come back, and a past was written for her. ...We lost five years with her, but now we've got her back for the rest of her life. And she's got a home and a family.”

Lila is quiet for a very long time. Finally, she says, “...Once I thought Rourke could give me back my home and my family.”

I put a hand on her shoulder. “...You lost them when you were little, right? A car accident?”

She frowns slightly. “...How did you...?”

“Alodia put together a few...puzzle pieces, so to speak. Some notes of Rourke's or something, plus a little of her crystal alien psychicness. She only told us recently, though. There was a lot she kept hidden on the island.”

“...Oh.” She goes quiet again for another long moment. “...I thought he could bring them back. And...maybe he could have. ...Clearly, she couldn't. ...Even if she could bring me back, she couldn't bring my family...”

“No...I think...she didn't have a lot of control over who she brought back, or she wouldn't have brought back Lundgren.”

“But she came back. She came back, and now she has a past and a home and a family. ...Just what Mr. Rourke was promising her. ...Except that he can't give me my home and my family anymore.”

I feel something cold seeping into my veins at the way she's talking. I carefully take hold of her hand, folding it between my palms. She glances at me with surprise, and I capture her gaze, holding it firmly.

“Lila, don't start thinking that way. ...The past and the family she has now...they aren't some sunny ideal. She's an orphan, too. She was adopted by an aunt and uncle who didn't really want her, and mostly raised by a nanny. Diego was the only person who unconditionally loved her all her life. Diego, and then the rest of us. ...She needs us, Lila, as much as we need her.”

Lila bites her lip, a guilty blush creeping into her cheeks. “...I...don't mean to sound...petty. She deserves what she has. ...She certainly deserves her family more than I deserve mine.”

I squeeze her hand. “...Family isn't really something you deserve. Like I said, the family she was given was hardly ideal. But the eleven of us are her family, too. ...And we can all be your family if you let us, Lila. The whole reason you're in Rome with me right now is so that we can protect you from someone who only wants to use you.”

“...I...you're right.” Her breath shakes as she exhales. “...Thank you, Raj. I needed to hear that.”

“Hey, no problem. Come on, we're almost at the studio. You can help me make the carbonara.”

Alodia

Jake has been clingy with me since the revelation that there is an Arachnid mook alive somewhere on the east coast. I can't really blame him. Of course, we're all concerned by the news, but it's different for him. I know what nightmares this has to be bringing up for him, what memories of being hunted in Kharzistan are surely lurking at the edges of his mind. And those are just the nightmares I didn't live through with him. I expect there are memories from La Huerta crowding in there as well, of Lundgren intercepting us in the mountains, being pursued by Fiddler and Tetra, Mike's dull, lifeless gaze under the influence of mind control...the fireball that consumed him and Lundgren in one terrible moment...the moment my hand slipped on the landing skid of the doomed chopper and sent me hurtling into the sea below...

… He's afraid for himself. Of course he is. ...But he is more afraid for me. For Mike. For our baby. For Diego, and Varyyn, and any Catalyst who gets caught in the crossfire. All in all, it adds up to the same thing. My husband is frightened, and there is little I can do to reassure him. For now, I can only let him cling to me whenever possible, check in with him throughout the day, and let him drive me to the studio and pick me up on Saturdays.

As my pregnancy advances, I have lightened my personal classload, but I can still teach if I keep the jumping to a minimum. I'm about nineteen weeks gone. Now that my bulge is starting to really look like a baby bump and not just some extra weight, I have opted today to start telling my students that I am expecting. I am pleased to find that the news perks up my twelve- and thirteen-year-old advanced ballet students, who at ten-thirty on a Saturday morning are typically still fighting off sleep and usually don't really wake up until halfway through the barre exercises. Once the initial excitement fades, though, they're all business.

One student does approach me as I sit on a bench just outside the studio with a bag of trail mix after class. She hesitates a moment, but I smile and pat the bench next to me.

Her name is Divya Gupta, and she's quickly become one of my favorite students. Extremely talented, but too friendly to make enemies for it, bright and curious. Not to mention that her parents are just two of the kindest people I have ever met. She started at the studio as a four-year-old shortly after I left for Hartfeld, and apparently her parents are well-known for helping out with costumes and shows when the studio needs a few extra hands.

Divya sits down next to me, placing her bag on the ground beside the bench. Over her black leotard and pink tights, she's pulled a pair of denim shorts and a sunset-colored sweatjacket with the studio logo on the back. The jacket hangs open and the convertible feet of her tights have been rolled up to her ankles to accommodate a pair of flip-flops.

“Aren't your toes cold?” I ask her. “I know we're in California, but it's still November.”

“Yeah, but we're in California,” she retorts, grinning. I chuckle.

“Fair enough. Maybe I'm just getting cold easier because of the baby.”

Divya leans over to eye my belly. “You don't look very big yet.”

“Not yet, but I will definitely get bigger.”

“...Are you married, Miss Alodia?”

“Yes, I am. Well, sort of. My husband and I got married in a ceremony overseas, but it wasn't really official. But we still think of ourselves as married.”

“Is he the one who dropped you off this morning? I saw you get out of the car when you got here because I got here at the same time. There was a man driving.”

I nod. “Yeah, that was Jake. He doesn't work today, so he decided to be nice and drive me.”

“That's a cool name. ...He looked cute, too, but I couldn't really see him very well.”

I grin. “He is cute. Very cute.”

“What does he do for a job?”

“He works for my uncle now, but he used to be a pilot in the navy.”

The sigh she gives is unmistakably dreamy and I can't help grinning a little. “That's soooo cool. How did you meet?”

For a moment, I'm a little thrown by the question. People knowing my name and Jake's is something I've just learned to get used to in the months since I've been back. The disappearance of eleven college students was international news, as was their return six months later with one of them missing. As was, for that matter, the trial of the two former navy pilots who were eventually cleared of three-year-old treason charges. But I suppose the media hasn't exactly been rigorous about keeping up with us. And at her age, I guess it isn't unlikely that Divya wouldn't have much interest in following the news to begin with.

“He was the pilot when my friends and I took a trip to the Caribbean five years ago. He sort of got stuck there with us.”

“In the Caribbean? That's soooo romantic...” She looks up at the clear blue sky. “...I can't wait until I'm in high school next year. Right now I'm in eighth grade, and all the boys at my school are my age, or they're younger. I like boys who are older than me, because they're more mature. When I was in sixth grade, all the eighth grade boys seemed so grown up. But now that I'm in eighth grade...”

“So are all the immature boys who were sixth graders with you?”

“Exactly,” she sighs.

“Well...eventually the boys your age will catch up to you in maturity.”

“Is Jake your age?”

“Well...no,” I admit. “He's five years older than me. But some of my best friends are guys my age, and they're pretty mature. Well...most of them. In their own way. ...Come to think of it, maybe guys just don't mature.”

Divya laughs, and so do I, but the truth is that I wouldn't change any of my friends for anything. I hope Diego never stops making pop culture references. I hope Jake and Mike never stop nicknaming. I hope Craig and Raj always find ways to startle me with their crazy ideas. I hope Aleister is always just a little bit pompous and Sean is always just a little overprotective. As long as they don't stop learning, or slip back into harmful patterns, I hope they never lose those little quirks that I love about them.

Divya sits up abruptly. “Oh! I see my dad coming. I'll see you next class, Miss Alodia!”

She grabs her bag and all but skips off to meet her dad as he pulls up at the curb, waving to me as she goes. I wave back, then gather my energy to return to the studio. I have one more class before I can take a long break for a proper meal, and then one more class in the afternoon.

My fifteen-year-old jazz/hip-hop students don't react to my news with much more than brief smiles. They are a dedicated group with very little time for much outside of dance. I confess that they often exhaust me with their dedication, but a good meal restores my energy, and by the time I get back, the four-year-old ballet students are starting to stream into the studio. At this studio, proper class attire is demanded of even the youngest students. The girls all wear tiny black leotards and pink tights with pink slippers of leather or canvas, and the boys come in fitted black shorts and white tops, with white or black shoes. Most of the girls also like to dress up their outfits with sheer ballet skirts and ribbons for their hair. When I get back to the studio, most of the parents have just about finished getting their little ones dressed and securing long hair off their faces. I stand at the dressing room door and clap my hands.

“Okay, is everyone all set? Come on out and let's sit in a circle in butterfly position. If you brought a doll for the dolly dance, let mommy or daddy hold onto it for now, okay?”

Fifteen little dancers rush less-than-gracefully out onto the dance floor, plopping down in a lopsided circle and obediently arranging their legs in a butterfly position, grasping their ankles. They leave a space for me at the head of the circle, and I accept it.

“Okay, everyone, before we start, I have an announcement to make: I am going to have a baby.” A chorus of excited gasps greets my news. “In the next few months, my tummy is going to get big and round, and I'm going to be eating a lot of extra snacks to help the baby grow before it's ready to be born. Also, after the baby is born, I will need to take some time off to rest, so Miss Vikki will be teaching everyone for awhile. You all know who Miss Vikki is, right?”

“Yeeeees,” everyone choruses.

“Good. Miss Vikki was my ballet teacher back when I was five years old, too, and I learned everything I know from her, so you'll all be in good hands.”

Martin Becskei puts up his hand, but doesn't wait for permission to speak before blurting out, “Miss Alodia, my mom told me where babies come from! If you're gonna have a baby, that means you made sex with a boy!”

Chloe Baudin gasps and swats Martin's shoulder. “Martin! That's a bad word!”

“No, it isn't! It's what happens when you're a grown up and you're in love with someone!”

I bite my cheek to keep from laughing. A few of the parents watching from the benches in the back aren't holding back. Martin's mother is actively beaming, apparently oblivious to the mortified looks from a couple of the more conservative parents in the room.

“Okay, Chloe, no hitting,” I say, my voice strained with the effort of holding back giggles. “Martin, your mom is very smart.”

“Miss Alodia?” Megan Radcliff calls. “Is it a girl baby or a boy baby?”

“I don't know yet, Megan. Right now the baby is too small to tell, but in a few weeks, I'll go to the doctor and have a picture taken of the baby inside me, and they should be able to tell me then.”

“When the baby is born, will you bring it to show us?”

“Of course, Ji-hu. Once the baby is strong enough, I promise I'll bring them in so they can meet everyone. But that's going to be a long time from now. For now, let's get started by warming up our bodies. Everyone shake out your hands and let's warm up our little ballerinas.”

I lead them in shaking out their wrists and fingers, then hold up my hand with my palm out and my fingers spread. In unison, we name the five ballerinas on each hand, just as I was taught when I was five years old: the thumb is “Daddy Ballerina”; the pointer finger is “Mommy Ballerina”; middle finger, “Skinny Ballerina”; ring finger, “Princess Ballerina”; and at the end of the line is “Baby Ballerina”.

I lead them through the most basic warm-ups and barre exercises, never throwing enough at them to overwhelm them. At their age, they don't need to worry about knowing the proper French names for each step. For now, it's enough to do “tippy-toe turns” and “ballet leaps.” All I'm worried about now is that their bodies get used to moving. Proper technique will come later. I do lead them through the five positions for the feet and arms, though. That's basic enough to be necessary even at their age. For the next hour, I get lost in the magic of dancing with these children, tapping on cheap tamborines while we skip in circles, and watching them hop over a line of old discarded ballet slippers that I keep in a box and lay out on the middle of the floor for them. Just before the Dolly Dance, I notice Jake slipping into the studio. Quite unexpectedly, I find myself struck hy a sudden wave of shyness; a self-consciousness that swells in me for a moment as I instruct the students to collect the dolls and stuffed animals they've brought as props. I manage to swallow it as I start the music.

I keep a doll from my own personal collection on hand so that I can participate; Emma, a handmade rag doll with yellow yarn hair, wearing a blue paisley dress and a lace pinafore. I retrieve it and try not to look over at Jake as I call out directions to my students. We all take on the role of parents as we rock and kiss and admire our “babies.” But then we place our babies under the barre and pretend we can't find them. We plié right and left, shifting our weight and holding our hands over our eyes as if searching the horizon for what is right in front of us. We pretend to cry in despair at our inability to see our babies staring patiently at us from beneath the barre. We hop from first position to second as we weep, “Oh me, oh my, oh me, oh my!” and scrub at our eyes theatrically. Then, lo and behold, the clouds lift as suddenly we realize where our babies are and we run to gather them in our arms. We kiss our babies. We hug our babies. We rock them, chanting “Rock-a-bye Baby,” and gently twirling after each line. As the music fades, I have to push past a lump in my throat as I call out to the dancers to give their babies back to their parents and come line up in the center of the room again. It takes a little wrangling, as usual.

“Everyone, remember our ballet manners?” I call, my voice still hoarse with suppressed emotion. “It's time to say thank you to everyone for dancing with us and watching today!”

The class reluctantly gathers at the center of the room and settles down as I select the révérence track, and a slow, gentle piano piece trickles out from the speakers. I lead my students through a final port de bras, and tippy-toe turn. As I end facing them, I lead them to bow or curtsey to me, then to turn and face their parents at the back and acknowledge them as well. Then, on impulse, I hurry to the door and take Jake by the hand, leading him into the room. His eyes widen slightly.

“...What are you doing?” he whispers.

I grin, turning to face my class. “Everyone, this is Miss Alodia's husband, Jake. He came to watch the Dolly Dance, so everyone bow or curtsey to him, too.” My students do as I say, giggling a little, and Jake applauds obligingly. I can't help chuckling. “And Mister Jake even knows his ballet manners! Everyone, let's clap to say thank you for a good class today!”

The students clap, and I finally dismiss them. Jake turns to me, lacing his fingers together at the small of my back, and leaning in to plant a kiss on my mouth.

“I hope it's not bad ballet manners to kiss the teacher,” he murmurs.

“Not after class,” I reply. “But we should still save it for after the kids and parents are gone. They might have questions or something.”

“Questions about where babies come from?”

I laugh. “No, apparently, they know that already. I was talking ballet-related questions.”

“Very well then, Princess. Go see to your subjects.”

It doesn't take too long for the students and their parents to clear out. Most of them are hungry and tired and ready to go to dinner. I'm starting to feel it myself, honestly. I'm starting to feel a lot of things. As I close down the studio, I suddenly realize that the knot of tears in my throat has dissolved, and I've started crying. Jake winds an arm around my shoulders, drawing me back into his arms.

“You okay? Is something wrong, or is this a baby thing?”

I laugh weakly, clutching him and resting my head on his chest. “A baby thing, a hungry thing...it's a thing. ...That stupid Dolly Dance got to me. Especially when I saw you watching.”

“Sorry. I didn't mean to upset you.”

“It's not your fault. It was just...with this kid inside me, I was dancing out a story about losing my baby...”

“...Except the baby was right in front of you,” Jake points out. “And you found her again two minutes later.”

“I know. I didn't say I was being rational.”

I hear him exhale a short breath of laughter, and he kisses the top of my head. “I get it. I know I've been noticing dads and kids a lot more recently. Just today, I saw two men with their little two-year-old daughter in the grocery store and just couldn't stop watching them. I must have given the wrong impression because one of them finally turned to me and said very loudly, 'Yeah, we're married, and this is our daughter!'”

I giggle through my tears. “And did you tell him you were an equal-opportunity fornicator before you were married?”

“Well, no. There was a child present. I just said I was sorry for staring, but my wife and I were expecting our first and I was feeling dad-jitters.” He kisses the top of my head again. “We ended up having a very pleasant conversation. Anyway, I think the almost-parent jitters have to be ten times as bad when you've got pregnancy hormones coursing through your veins.”

I sigh a little, nuzzling his shoulder. “...Pregnancy hormones might make mine stronger than yours, but yours are stronger than the average parent's, too. ...I think it's all going to be harder for the two of us. ...Just think of everything you and I have gone through to even get to the point where we're standing here together with me growing a baby inside me...”

He tightens his grip. “...I never stop thinking about it, Alodia. ...I never stop thinking about T'kal nearly shredding you the first time we met him. Or looking down while I dangled over a cliff and seeing you under me. Or holding you while you cried for your best friend, knowing I couldn't say or do anything that would make it better. I remember how it much it killed me to see you in pain. I remember being terrified that if I didn't go with him, Lundgren would try to hurt you to get to me. ...Waking up when you cried out in your sleep because you were watching us die and couldn't bring yourself to say anything about it. Watching you almost going over a waterfall...watching you fall out of a chopper...finding you on the beach and realizing you weren't breathing...watching you disappear...”

“...I never stop thinking about it, either. ...Just in that last loop alone...when we snuck into MASADA and I saw Lundgren with your throat in his fist...Sean had to hold me back. Remind me that I was still dressed like an Arachnid. ...Every time one of them showed up, you got hurt. Physically or emotionally. ...You were lying in my arms, coughing blood and crying over Mike...and I couldn't make it better anymore than you could when Diego was missing. All I could do was hold you and make promises I didn't know if I could keep...”

He's started to sway with me now. “...But I also remember dancing like this on New Year's Eve. I think about that all the time, too.”

“...I think about that, too. ...I think about sitting beside the river with you...watching the sunset...windsurfing together...”

“Winning masks in quuk'tanoi...ice skating in the mountains...”

“...Our wedding...our honeymoon...the first time you called me Princess...” I pull back to look up at him. “...I meant it when I said you gave me a lifetime's worth of love in a matter of weeks. ...But don't imagine for a moment that I didn't always want more.”

“I never do, Princess.” He bends to kiss me gently, just tasting my mouth, lingering there for a moment. I savor the sensation, but then an aching quiver deep in my belly makes me pull back with a gasp. He looks up, concerned. “What is it? Are you okay?”

“I'm starving!” I groan. “I feel like my stomach's going to start dissolving itself if I don't get food soon.”

He laughs. “Fair enough. Watcha in the mood for?”

“Potatoes,” I answer promptly. “Don't care how they're prepared, as long as they're loaded with carbs and starch. Potatoes and pickles, and a garden salad with spinach leaves, tomatoes, cucumbers, bacon bits, blue cheese...”

“Wait, what? You hate blue cheese.”

“I know! It smells like feet! But apparently, River likes that in food, because I want it all over my salad. ...That and peanut butter.”

“...Our kid has a weird appetite. Also, cucumbers and pickles are the same thing, just one is salty.”

“I need both the salty and the unsalty.”

He snorts, winding an arm around my waist and bending to nuzzle my neck. “Let's see what we can rustle up.”

Diego

There is something in the air in Laguna Beach tonight. I'm not sure what it is, but it's made my little nuclear family of five feel giddy and affectionate. Maybe it's all of Allie's baby hormones permeating the air. When she and Jake got home an hour ago, the trunk of her car was loaded with a bizzare mix of groceries that she explained dismissively as being the result of cravings. Of course, Jake, Varyyn, Mike, and I all forbid her from trying to carry any of the bags in herself and loaded our arms up with them. Stubborn wench that she is, Allie defiantly grabbed one of the lighter bags and marched into the house, sticking her tongue out at us as she went. Looking at the bags on the counter, somehow, the four men in the room got the same thought in our heads that we were going to make dinner. Allie looked at us skeptically when we suggested it, but as I pointed out, even if none of us are Raj, we can still follow a recipe. So, she obligingly excused herself from the kitchen with a bag of potato skins, a jar of peanut butter, and a carton of orange juice, and settled in the rec room to watch TV.

Now, we're all gathered around the table on the deck, looking out over the Pacific as the sun goes down over the water, nibbling at the remains of a satisfying meal of potato soup, garlic bread, salad, and fresh fruit. Allie, who drenched her salad in Italian dressing and peanut butter, uses a thin slice of garlic bread to soak up the remaining puddle, sprinkling pieces of blue cheese on top before stuffing the abomination into her mouth. She grins as she notices us watching her with a mix of horror and fascination.

“I know, I know,” she says around the mouthful. “When I'm back to normal, I'm going to realize just how disgusting these combinations are.”

“My mom says that whatever a woman craves most while pregnant usually ends up being the kid's favorite food,” Jake remarks. “Kinda makes sense to me. My mom hates seafood, but she says she had the worst cravings for it while she was pregnant with me, and I could basically live off anything that comes from the ocean.”

“Guess that means River's going to be a fiend for peanut butter,” I quip. “Seriously, how many jars of the stuff have you gone through this week?”

“At least one-and-a-half of the family size,” she admits. “I just hope they don't end up with peanut allergies. ...But anyway, how was everyone's day?”

Most of us were off today, but I spent the morning working on a lesson plan before Varyyn and I went for a little picnic on the beach. Mike applied to a few jobs in the area, and thinks he might have secured something for the holiday season at a warehouse. Meanwhile, Jake was making travel arrangements for himself and Allie for Thanksgiving.

“You also snuck in to watch the end of my last class,” Allie reminds him. “Got there just in time for the Dolly Dance.”

“Yes, I did, and it was too fucking adorable. All those little rugrats bouncing and tippy-toeing with a bunch of dolls and stuffed animals was cute enough, but add in my gorgeous wife leading them?” He dramatically clutches his chest. “My heart almost couldn't take it.”

“Wait...the Dolly Dance?” I feel my face scrunch as I search my memory. “That sounds really familiar...”

“Possibly because it's the same Dolly Dance that I did when I was four years old, and your mom was always the one driving me to dance classes, which meant you were usually dragged along, too.”

“Right! And I remember once your teacher let me join in!”

Varyyn turns to raise an eyebrow at me. “Did you dance, Diego?”

“Well, not like Allie, of course. My parents could never afford classes...and I'm not sure they would have wanted me to dance if they could...”

The mood is temporarily dampened, but quickly lifted again when Varyyn takes my hand. I turn to smile at him and notice his golden eyes dancing.

“...Dance with me, my darling.”

“Right now?”

He stands to take my other hand and pulls me to my feet, drawing me against his broad chest. “You are a beautiful dancer, my love. You have been as long as I have known you.” He starts to sway with me, and I lean into his embrace.

“Well, I am as long as I have your lead.”

He nuzzles my neck. “No...you are beautiful and graceful all on your own.” He winds his arm around my waist and lifts my hand into a waltz position, spinning me slowly across the deck.

“Careful, you two!” Mike calls. “Don't fall.”

I pull back and lock eyes with Varyyn. “We won't fall. He will never let me fall.”

“Never,” he agrees, not taking his eyes off my face. “You are always safe in my arms.”

I hear Allie mock-groan. “Well, we might as well all get up and leave. Those two are going to forget that there's anyone else here in like, two seconds.”

None of them move, though. She's right, but none of them move. The evening is pleasant, and the temperature hasn't dropped yet. It will after the sun's been down for awhile, but right now it's still warm. And I'll be warm awhile longer, in Varyyn's arms. And yes, the rest of the world does fade away when I'm looking into his golden eyes. Even after five years, there are moments when I cannot believe how in love I am with him. Or how much he loves me back. I can hardly believe how lucky I am to be living this moment, to be a part of this little nuclear family. My husband, my best friend and her husband, her husband's best friend, and in six months or so, my little godchild...

In the next moment, several things seem to happen at once. For the life of me, I'm not sure which happens first, whether I see the change in Varyyn's expression or hear Jake's voice asking, “You okay, Princess?”

I look sharply at Allie, who has brought a hand to her forehead. In the waning light, I can see that her skin has taken on an ashen cast. I break my embrace to step closer to the table, but I keep one hand in Varyyn's.

“I'm fine,” Allie mumbles. “Just...feeling a little lightheaded. I...think I'm gonna go inside and get horizontal for a moment.”

She starts to stand, but it's clear she's not feeling steady on her feet. Jake moves quickly to brace her, and she winds her arms around his neck, letting her head drop onto his shoulder. Her breath shudders audibly as she struggles to keep it slow and steady. Jake strokes her hair, looking at the rest of us with alarm in his eyes.

“Should we call the doctor?”

“I'm sure it's nothing,” Allie replies weakly. “Vertigo is common in pregnancy. They told me as much.” After a moment, she lifts her head to smile at him, still looking peaky. He frowns critically at her, studying her face. Finally, he pulls back enough to turn her toward the house, taking her gently by the arm to steady her.

“...I'm gonna call Michelle as soon as we've got you inside. Get her advice.”

“Let me help you with her.” Mike gets up to take her other arm. I start to follow them inside, but Varyyn tightens his grip on my hand, holding my back. I turn toward him. My concern immediately deepens at the look on his face.

“Varyyn? Sweetie, what is it?”

“...She was seeing something,” he murmurs in Vaanti.

“What? What do you mean?”

“A vision. She showed it to me. There was...a figure in shadow. Someone familiar to her.”

I am still for a moment, trying to process this. “...Familiar to her...I don't think there's anyone familiar to her who wouldn't be familiar to me...unless...it's someone we knew in another time loop that I don't remember...”

“I don't know if you know this person. ...But the figure was familiar to me, too.”

“Do you think this...vision has anything to do with her getting dizzy?”

Varyyn shrugs. “I don't know enough about child-carrying to guess.”

I step forward to cup his cheek and press my lips to his—both because I want to kiss him, and because I need a moment to gather my thoughts.

“Okay. Let's not get carried away here. Let's not say anything unless she does, okay? Jake's jumpy enough with the news of that Arachnid mook, and with Allie being pregnant. If she doesn't know who the figure is yet and neither do you, there's no telling whether they're actually significant. I mean...it might be Yvonne. Or Malatesta, or Kele. One of those people who went back to their own times after the timelines reset.”

Varyyn exhales slowly and nods. “You are right, my darling. Of course. There is no reason to get upset.” He kisses my forehead. “...You have been a voice of reason around here of late, do you know that?”

I sigh a little, raising myself to kiss his throat. “It's a dirty job, but someone's gotta do it. ...But I guess I've grown up a lot from the kid I was when you first met me, huh?”

“We both have, my own sweet love. But you in particular have grown so strong.”

I feel heat rising to my cheeks at the praise, but I can't help smiling. “...Let's go inside, sweetheart. It's getting cold. And I do want to check on Allie.”

Allie is lying on the couch when we get inside, her phone on speaker beside her head, talking to Michelle. After a series of questions, Michelle concludes that there is probably no cause for alarm. At this point in her pregnancy, Allie is probably getting dizzy because the growing uterus is pressing on her nerves. But Michelle does insist that she make an appointment to see her doctor in the next few days, and Allie promises she will.

She seems to feel better after a few more minutes of rest. She doesn't mention the vision of the shadowy figure. And if she and Varyyn mind-talk about it, they don't say anything to the rest of us.

Silas Prescott

The call comes well after the night nurse has left, from a number that comes up on my phone as Unknown. I was expecting this, and I answer.

“This is Silas Prescott.”

The voice that answers is rough and masculine, pitched low, with a cadence that makes me think of the storytellers of the far away ancient tribes that Helena used to study with such wonder.

“Silas Prescott,” the voice murmurs. “A mutual friend has asked me to speak with you. Listen, and I will tell you the story of the Endless.”

#pixelberry choices #choices stories you play #playchoices #Endless Summer #hero #grayson prescott #kenji katsaros #eva minuet #Diego Ricardo Ortiz Soto #Jake McKenzie #sean gayle #Craig Hsiao #raj bhandarkar #aleister rourke #grace hall #estela montoya #quinn kelly #michelle nguyen #zahra namazi

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trashartandmovies · 4 years ago

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Berlinale Film Festival 2021, Industry Event, Final Day

There was an added bonus to our originally scheduled plan for five days of press streamings. On the weekend following those five days, the winners of the Competition program would be available on Saturday, and the winners of the Encounters program would be available on Sunday. Winners from Generations and the Shorts programs would also get a second screening.

Since I’d made a point of seeing the Competition films, I decided to focus on the ones from the Encounters lineup that I hadn’t got a chance to see. (In case you’re wondering: here are the lists of award-winners for Competition, Encounters, Generations and Shorts.

First up was Lê Bảo’s Vị (TASTE), a film that cites six countries in helping with the production: Vietnam, Singapore, France, Thailand, Germany and Taiwan. It won the Special Jury Award in the Encounters program, and it’s not hard to see why. The film is legitimately striking; a bold visual poem about a Nigerian who comes to Saigon to play football, breaks his foot, and begins working a mysterious job with four middle-aged Vietnamese women. There isn’t much more plot than that, very little is explained, there’s hardly any dialog, but the film evokes a lot of different feelings through its artfully staged tableaus of bodies at motion and at rest. The color palette is severe — greys, blues, whites and rusty earth tones — but also beautiful. There is the periodic burst of sunshine that enters in through a window or doorway, and small splashes of color that come from the ingredients of the food they spend a lot of time preparing. But mostly, we’re in a chilly underground location that has little else besides a few beds and an old television.

It’s difficult to parse out the meaning of TASTE, but I’m not sure such an endeavor isn’t foolish. You could say there’s something about worker exploitation here, but if you squint and tilt your head, there could also be a message about the transcendence of work as well. Ultimately, this is an art film. It wouldn’t feel out of place in the halls of MOMA or wherever else you find eager minds for the abstract. One of the appealing things about the film is that it is freely open to interpretation and can be read in different ways. The only thing that’s for certain is that TASTE is about connections, those we make with our surroundings, our food, and those we work with. It’s about the ceremonies we create to forge those connections and help us through our days.

It’s not easy to make a film that truly feels like a dream. Sure, TASTE has a lot of unresolved mystery to it, but as a foray into dream logic, it is comfortably consistent in its mood and atmosphere. This is a plus and a minus, because TASTE is also quite effective in lulling you into a kind of heavy-lidded hypnosis. It taps into a very different part of your brain than the average movie.

The last feature film I caught up with was the newest film by Ramon Zürcher, this time co-directing and co-writing with his brother Silvan Zürcher. Ramon’s previous film, THE STRANGE LITTLE CAT, was a hit on the film festival circuit back in 2013. I still need to catch up with that one, and I will, even though I found little to enjoy in the Zürcher Brothers’ THE GIRL AND THE SPIDER.

The set-up is pretty interesting. Lisa, a young woman, is moving to a new apartment and leaving behind a few roommates. One of those roommates, Mara, isn’t taking it so well. In fact, she seems to be rather heartbroken and bitter — and maybe a little self-destructive. But mostly she seems to be intent on making barbed, passive-aggressive comments at Lisa and everyone who has the misfortune of getting close to her. You see, Mara is like a spider. She’s alluring and mysterious enough to draw you in, but once you get close, you just become trapped in her abusive mind games. As I mentioned, pretty solid set-up for a tricky, dark relationship movie. There’s something to it, and the movie kicks around the idea of lonely hurt people hurting other lonely hurt people, but we don’t get very far.

One problem is that as the movie goes on, and we meet the other roommates that Lisa is leaving behind, we start to get the idea that maybe Mara has always been this mean manipulator. Maybe her heartbreak over Lisa leaving isn’t that much of a motivator. Maybe her other roommates are also passive-aggressive emotionally damaged loose cannons. Why can’t anyone say what they mean? Must everyone be so aloof? Must every line of dialog cryptically dance around true feelings? Why must someone be eavesdropping behind a door during every other conversation? To me, it just comes across as sub-par writing. Before long, it felt like the only reason these people were talking this way was because if anyone spoke honestly the movie would be about 15 minutes long. Instead, it slowly drove me crazy over a very long 98 minutes.

Now, some of these choices are understandable. I’ve lived with roommates. I know that these situations can be passive-aggressive nightmares where no one feels comfortable enough to say what they really feel. This too, is a good set-up for a movie, with plenty of interesting angles to explore. But again, we only dance on the surface. None of the characters open up, everyone’s motivations are fuzzy. In the end, these people remain more or less as we found them. Mara comes closest to revealing a little bit about herself, but it’s all very frustrating. On a few occasions, the film takes detours, cutting away to visualize a story being told. Sometimes it involves an elderly eccentric neighbor in the building, other times it’s a fantasy about the previous owner of the piano that sits in the apartment. Immediately, the protagonists of these stories become way more compelling than the dreary twenty-somethings that we’re stuck with the rest of the time.

Aside from my issues with the writing, the movie looks great. The Zürcher’s have a good eye and they know how to observe misery while luxuriating in icy detachment like, say, Michael Haneke. There are also good rhythms going on here. From the little I know THE STRANGE LITTLE CAT, it would appear that Ramon Zürcher is still interested in capturing the details of interiors, and paying attention to the animals that are running around people’s feet. Scene’s often end with still-life portraits of items on tabletops, knocked over bottles, subtle signs of life and little punctuations upon the preceding scene. It’s a nice touch. I only wish those scenes told a more engaging story.

Thoroughly exhausted, with the last remaining hours of the streaming schedule dwindling away, there were a few award-winning shorts left to watch. Feeling like animation might be a nice change of pace, I went for EASTER EGGS, a Belgian/French/Netherlands production, written and directed by Nicolas Keppens. In some ways, it was a perfect little finale.

Even though EASTER EGGS could be a contemporary story, it feels like a tender look back, maybe some twenty years ago, at a painful teenage moment. It’s a story about two kids, Kevin the bully and Jason the enabler, and their woefully unhealthy friendship. There’s a vague plan to capture some valuable birds that were left behind when a local Chinese restaurant closed down — and there are some laughs to be had — but mostly it’s achingly sad to watch Jason pine for Kevin’s attention and approval, while Kevin just walks all over him. But given the gentle hand that this story is told with, that sadness is more poignant than depressing. Keppens shows a love and sensitivity for these characters. They’re way more than just some Belgian Beavis and Butthead. They represent something many of us have gone through in our youth — longing for friendship and someone to share your imaginative, ambitious plans with. It’s not exactly a feeling that goes away, which is why EASTER EGGS still carries a lot of weight.

Let me just add a few more thoughts to this First Round of 2021’s Berlinale Film Festival. Despite my longings for more time to spend with such a quality lineup of films, I’m impressed that everything went so smoothly. The streaming platform worked incredibly smoothly (even if it was a bummer I couldn’t cast that stream onto my TV), and the quality of the films was excellent — both in picture and sound as well as moviemaking craft. It wasn’t ideal, but it was great to be a part of. I’ll also take a sentence here to recommend visiting the Berlinale Meets page, as well as the video section, where there is an impressive collection of conversations with this year’s filmmakers for more viewing enjoyment.

While there’s a lot from this festival that I’m still hoping to see, judging from the Competition and Encounters films that I have seen, this was an exceptionally strong year for female voices and female-led stories. This was clearly one of the most impressive things about the 2021 Berlinale. PETITE MAMAN, A COP MOVIE, MEMORY BOX, I’M YOUR MAN, HERR BACHMAN, WHEEL OF FORTUNE AND FANTASY, BALAD OF A WHITE COW, BAD LUCK BANGING OR LOONEY PORN — each of these films, which are just from the Competition section, were either directed by a woman or told stories about women. In the case of WHEEL OF FORTUNE AND FANTASY, there were three stories and three female protagonists. (You could probably make a case for adding WHAT DO WE SEE WHEN WE LOOK AT THE SKY?, but I digress...) And you know what, those were the best films in the main lineup. I’ll also throw in the strong entries in the ENCOUNTERS category, Dasha Nekrasova’s THE SCARY OF SIXTY-FIRST and the best film winner of the category Alice Diop’s NOUS (WE). Personally, I especially liked the connections between PETITE MAMAN and MEMORY BOX, which both dealt with making connections between mother and daughter in unique, cinematic ways. I hope this level of representation continues in the years to come.

Now, let’s keep our fingers crossed for Part Two of the Berlinale, the Summer Special. See you June 9th.

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letsprayitwritesitself · 7 years ago

Text

groundhog dave part 12

The night before, he had tried to set his alarm clock even earlier than it had already been, before forgetting that even that would be erased with the new morning. So he woke up at six, stomach twisting, hoping that he had enough minutes in the day to do what he wanted.

For the first time since all the bullshit started he stood up straight away, pulling on his lounge pants and slippers before slipping out of his room to go and find Jack and Crutchie before they left. They were in adjoining rooms so he knocked on Crutchie's door, then Jacks. He beckoned Crutchie over to Jack's room as he waited for Jack to open the door.

'Everything okay, Davey?' He was dressed but not quite awake yet, stifling a yawn as Davey answered.

'Yeah, I'm sorry to bother you, Crutchie. Wanted to catch you before you head off.'

'Is it about the broadcast? Cuz I think we're gonna be fine, you know we could do it in our sleep.'

'It's not. It's something else.' He stared at the door until it opened, aware that Crutchie was eyeing him. Jack appeared, a vision, eyes barely open, leaning on the doorframe like standing upright was way too much effort this time in the morning.

'Five more minutes,' he whined, and Davey cleared his throat, not looking at Jack's biceps in the white vest he was wearing, or his messy hair, or the fluffy slippers he couldn't help but double take at. He stood up straighter when he saw Davey, rubbing his eyes. 'Dave. To what do I owe -' He let out a huge yawn, covering his face with his hand.

'Sorry to wake you, Jack.'

'Nah, been up for... hours.' Movement over Jack's shoulder caught Davey's eye. He looked up, and his stomach dropped out of his ass as he watched the man in Jack's bed roll over. He couldn't see that much of him, just one bare leg and a pair of navy boxers, and he had the entire duvet bunched up in his arms like a jerk. Who the fuck was that? He blushed fiercely and averted his gaze. Jack cleared his throat, pulling the door behind him and stepping out into the hall. 'Everything okay, Davey, thought we were meeting you there?'

'I - yeah. It's fine. All fine. All great. I...' Fuck. What had he come down for? God, what had Jack done? Where had he found this guy? Words. He had to find the words. 'Wanted - to - see you guys. Really quick. Before the broadcast.' He turned to Crutchie, who was staring at him, vaguely concerned. 'Can we meet in the dining room in five minutes?'

// He sat at the table, staring into space.

Every... single... night. Every time he had woken up on this fucking day, Jack had been upstairs with that guy.

Crutchie sat opposite him and he forced himself to give him a shallow smile.

This whole time Davey had been slowly letting himself fall in love with Jack - and he knew, obviously, that it wasn't a betrayal, because as far as Jack was concerned, they were nothing.

'Sleep alright, Davey?'

'Huh? Oh.' But if it had always happened, then even when he and Jack had kissed, that was less than a day after Jack had been with someone else. 'Yeah, it was okay. You?'

'Great! I love coming back to this place.'

He himself had slept with Spot despite developing these feelings for Jack. He knew better than anyone, that that didn't mean Spot was the love of his life. Jack wouldn't have kissed him that night if the guy he had slept with was anything other than a one night thing.

'Guys.' Jack sat down next to Crutchie. 'How we doing?'

So why did it feel like he'd been smacked in the face?

He made himself smile again, unable to look directly at Jack so settling on addressing Crutchie and a spot just a couple of inches left of Jack's ear.

'Thanks for coming down, guys. I know you're excited to get out there. I just wanted to talk to you about an idea I had.' He cleared his throat. He had rehearsed these words so much, falling asleep last night, in the shower just now - he just needed to find the rhythm. He had a whole list of things he needed to get done today, but they all hinged on telling Jack and Crutchie what he wanted to do. Logic dictated that they'd like the idea, since they had when he'd come up with it - but then what about any of this was logical anyway? 'It's gonna be quick, and rough, because I want to get it done today - but I think it's gonna work. It's a feature, for the show, about Punx. Like, about the people who live here, who were born here. We come by for one day every year, piggybacking on their tradition, and running back to Philly, and I just - forget that it's a place.'

Crutchie and Jack stared at him. Crutchie raised his eyebrows slowly and nodded.

'Like... Humans of Punx.' Jack replied.

'Exactly. I know I'm not the only person who thinks that you have to live in a big city to be fulfilled, at the expense of my wellbeing, and happiness, and just - like, I might be wrong. You know? So let's find out. Crutchie, I thought, if you could tape it, plus be the kind of... like a researcher but you've already done the research, kind of thing. And Jack, I'd really like it if you could present it.' Also I love you and I'm kind of struggling here can you tell. 'I wanna get a really clear idea of this before I pitch it to Andy, but I'll make sure you get paid for the extra work.' He took a breath. Finally looked Jack in the face. 'What do you think?'

'My dad... and my dad's dad... and his dad... and his dad - they were all born here. It's just where we are, y'know! If we don't stay in one place, how can anyone find us?'

'You always knew you were gonna stay?'

'Oh yeah. People wanna try and say the grass is always greener on the other side, well, I don't even believe that much. However green the grass is here, that's how green it should be.'

'A lot of people would think a kid your age would wanna travel.'

'Oh sure, I've travelled. Been to Thailand, Berlin, Australia, spent a summer in London. What a year.' Jack raised his eyebrows but kept holding his mic out to the kid. 'Coming back to Punx was like a warm hug.'

'Can't argue with that, except for maybe the "warm" part. Diane, you moved here?'

'When I was six. From Puerto Rico. Mom and dad heard about this place from a pen pal. Unassuming, they said, with a whole heap of personality. And they said if that's not the perfect place.'

'We were next door neighbours,' Nick continued for her. 'I was in the grade below. But I was smart. So I helped her with her homework through the fence. Then she started helping me with mine. Then we started helping each other with real problems, y'know, acne, parents fighting, sick pets. And we just never really stopped.' He tightened the arm round her shoulders in a playful squeeze and she grinned, closing her eyes.

Jack turned to the camera, eyes wide, and Davey observed from behind, arms folded, persistent envelope of anticipation unfolding in his stomach. How long had it been since he'd had a project he believed in?

Not that this had been approved by Andy yet. That came later.

'Thanks, guys. Happy Groundhog Day.' Jack shook their hands and waved as they headed off. 'Well, that was fucking adorable. I wanna watch their movie.' 'Hopefully the guys at the network agree.' He hadn't expected to care this much. Obviously there was a lot at stake - he found himself so sure that this was the key, but then he had been that sure about other things. Kissing Jack, asking for a promotion. No, there was something else. Did he... God, did he care about getting this made? Did he... believe in Punx? Oh, fucking hell.

He walked along the high street with Jack and Crutchie, eyeing the crowds for potential subjects. He didn't know if the people of Punx had surprised him or not, if he had expected their comments to hit so hard - or if he just hadn't thought about it before.

His gaze chanced upon Spot, shuffling along a few yards away, hands in his pockets, scowl poking out from a thick blue scarf and woolly hat. He steered Crutchie and Jack over.

'Excuse me.' Spot turned to him, apparently vaguely disbelieving but not necessarily annoyed at being stopped. 'Do you mind if we ask you a couple of questions about Punx?' He was beautiful. Behind the glare. Actually, maybe still with the glare. Because he was here on this day, and that meant something.

'No thanks.'

'We're looking for some words on what Punxsutawney means to people. Just a few comments?'

Spot paused, looking like he'd already had about ten ideas jump into his head.

'Doesn't really mean that much to me.'

'Well, that's something. Could we start there?' He stared at Spot. He knew he'd have something to say. 'We don't have to show your face in it. Would that help?'

'Fine.'

Jack started talking to Spot. Davey nudged Crutchie with a quiet 'May I?' and took the camera, staring down into the monitor and focusing it on Spot's hands as they fidgeted with the ends of his sleeves, his mouth as he paused between words to bite his lip, his feet as he balanced his weight while deciding what words to use.

'I think Punx is... a place. Just like every other place. Rains here. Some people voted for Trump. Some didn't. Might as well be here over anywhere else.'

'Shouldn't you love where you live?'

'That's unrealistic. I think. Maybe.'

'You could move?'

'I could. I don't... love... this town. But I am trying.' He sighed, squinting up into the bright cloud. 'Look, truth is, I trust my dad, and he picked this place. Even though he was a twenty year old punk when he came here. That means something, that he chose it. I coulda grown up in Brooklyn, where he was born. I've never been. Wouldn't know what to do if I got there. Don't know if that means I'm scared, or... Yeah.'

'See yourself taking the leap soon?'

'Maybe. Hopefully. Probably not - I still ah, have that little bit of hope. From him. That this is where I should be. Catch me when I'm eighty still hanging on to it.'

'You haven't talked to that many people about this, have you?'

'Would you? Sun shines out of Punx's ass, haven't you heard.'

'Crutchie...' Davey leaned over, trying not to disturb Spot's rhythm. 'See that guy over there - the one on his own? Can you grab him?' He flicked his gaze back and forth between Spot unloading, and Crutchie bringing Race over.

'You say you're trying to have faith in this place because your dad chose it,' Davey started, keeping an ear out for Crutchie to finish explaining to Race what they were doing. He stepped back to capture both Spot and Race's midsections in the frame. 'Can I ask how you came to Punx?'

Race stared at him, then glanced at Spot, and took a deep breath in.

'Got a job here,' he nodded. 'Start on Monday.'

'Excited?'

'Yeah. I'm not sure. I don't know if I'm anything yet.'

'Where are you from?'

'Manhattan.'

'Manhattan? Lot of people might try and do the reverse, right?'

'Well, y'know. I might go back. But they say everyone leaves the city eventually, right? I'm just... speeding it up.'

'First impression of Punx?' Davey glanced up as he asked this, noting that Spot was staring up at Race from under his eyelashes rather than using the lull in his own interview to escape.

'I like it. I think. Everyone's nice. That might grate, I'm not sure, you know when people are like... TOO nice. It can be a bit much. But uh, no. So far I can see maybe why people spend their whole lives here.'

'People... feel like they don't have a choice.' Spot spoke up, in a low voice, now squinting into the distance. 'But they think that's a good thing.'

'If they think it's a good thing doesn't that make it a good thing?' Davey cast the camera over to where what looked like four generations of one family were spilling into the square.

'I guess so. Look, Punx gives people a really strong sense of identity, I think, and if that's the identity that you want, then you're laughing.' Spot left it there, glancing down at the floor. 'That enough?'

'That's great. Thank you.' He reached out and shook Spot's hand, then Race's. Falling asleep with Spot bound to wake up without him meant he'd never actually said bye to him, and as the clock struck seven and Davey found himself drawn towards the square to do the broadcast, he felt a swell of melancholy well up inside him, one that reminded him that not everyone in Punx was unbearably chipper. And Spot was just a guy, he wasn't here to be a character in Davey's story. He lived here, he'd be here when they finally left. All of Punx would still be here.

He passed the camera back to Crutchie and glanced over his shoulder as they walked to see Race and Spot still standing there, talking. Race tentatively extended a hand out, and after a long couple of seconds, Spot shook it.

'Solid shout on the interviewing people, Dave,' Jack addressed him as Crutchie checked the feed with the Philly studio. 'I think you've caught Punx at its Punxiest.'

'Yeah?'

'We got some solid stuff already, and it's just seven!'

'I hope it stays like that. I wanna edit something together really soon to send back. I just... don't know how much to expect from the people that live here, is that terrible to say?'

'Nah. Not everyone will have some groundbreaking comment, y'know? I bet not everyone even knows how they really feel about Punx.'

'Let's hope we haven't already spoken to the only four people to have any comments.'

'Does this mean we're staying a little longer after the broadcast?'

'Yeah. I mean. We can play it by ear. If you're okay with that?'

'I'm way okay with that.'

He stood behind Crutchie as they did the broadcast, arms folded across his chest, watching Jack with a nagging discomfort. He had woken up thinking that he had this. That he had jumped over the obstacles and finally been able to formulate the kind of day that was the opposite of that first day - engage with Punx, look around, don't wish the day away - but seeing someone else in Jack's bed wasn't the kind of thing that happened on a perfect day. It had made him want to turn right around, hide in bed, and start again with a day that didn't involve him imagining Jack with someone else.

Plus, there had been numerous other times he'd thought that he'd had it. The day he broke his arm. The one where he kissed Jack. And yet here he was, on Groundhog Day. Again.

But then. It had happened. It had always happened. Even if he didn't see it. It would always have, and maybe... Maybe he could never know what a perfect day felt like, or what kind of day would end the cycle. He was going into this entirely blind, but the personal leaps and bounds that he had already made in trying to escape this situation made him... almost glad that it had happened?

He froze, and tears stung his eyes, and a lump materialised in his throat. He hated it, he hated that it was happening. But then, maybe, he hated the person who it had happened to. The angry, tired, frustrated Davey who waited and waited for bad days to make way for the good, instead of trying to formulate good ones for himself. He might not have looked twice at Jack, if all this shit hadn't happened. Or anyone, really, who wasn't directly related to his career and its progression. But there was value in the last however many days, despite the fact that he was in exactly the same place every morning. There was value in talking to these people, the ones who lived in Punx all year long, who did Groundhog Day every February - and value in taking a break, and chilling the fuck out. Whatever happened that made this cycle stop, wherever he was with Jack, or with the station, when he woke up on February 3rd, it was probably where he was meant to be, and he realised that he would always have to be thankful that the universe glued him to this day.

The cold gust of wind broke him out of his reverie, and he looked around to see people starting to leave, snow starting to fall, and Crutchie lowering the camera.

'Earth to Dave?' Jack's tone was kind, face concerned. He stepped forward and Davey blinked several times, shaking his head.

'Shit, sorry guys. Good job.' Snow started to fall. Jack lifted his hands up to catch the snow.

'It's snowing!'

Davey smiled. 'How about we go get some more footage at the diner? Brunch is on the station.'

'I cried all night when I moved here. It was for my husband, William, he was born here but we met at college in Rhode Island, you see.' They sat opposite the old woman in the diner, Jack asking questions, Crutchie filming, Davey watching distantly as he edited together the footage they already had, one earphone in, half-listening to her. 'And I'm from Milwaukee. So not exactly centre of the universe, but not nowhere, you know. And we got here, and I unpacked, and I realised I had forgotten my perfume, the one my mother bought me every Christmas. Left it on the counter at home. Well, William said we can just go out and get you some more. But the nearest department store was a four hour drive. And I just thought... Carla, what are you doing here?'

He stared at the laptop screen, brow furrowed. The people of Punx had come through with the quotes. But it wasn't quite there. He let out a huge sigh as Jack sat down next to him after winding the interview down.

'How's it going, Louis Theroux?'

'It's... Almost. I like it. But I can tell it's not done.' He pushed the laptop so Jack could see, and Jack watched it, contemplative, for a few moments.

'Punx.'

'Punx?'

'Right. Context. Shots of the town, right?'

'Shit, of course! How did I miss that? Can you think of anywhere specific?'

'Yeah! We can just explore too, right, see what we find?'

'Let's go.' He stood up, packing his laptop away, trying not to pin too much on the phrase see what we find. They found Crutchie sitting at the counter, deep in conversation with the server.

'Crutch - sorry to interrupt. We were gonna go get some footage of the scenery.'

'That's a great idea, guys! Do you mind if I catch you up? I haven't seen Greta since a year ago!' He leaned down and grabbed his camera bag from under his stool. Davey took it from him.

'No problem. Hey, thanks again for doing all this extra filming, I know you wanted to spend the day catching up with people.'

'Nah, c'mon, you guys know this is exactly my cup of tea.'

'It is...' Jack unzipped the camera bag and switched it on, handing it to Davey. 'Crutchie, tell us how you feel about Punx.' Crutchie grinned as Davey lifted the camera.

'Come on guys... You wanna interview locals and stuff.'

'You're practically a local, man.'

'Well, that's it. I love Punx.'

'Why?'

'Because it's... it's modest. It's quiet. You come here, and no-one's trying to prove anything, y'know? No-one shoving anything in your face, no-one trying to outsmart one another, or crap on each other. I just think... it's a really beautiful town. It's the perfect antidote to living in a big city.'

'Is that why you make such a huge effort to get to know everyone?'

'Yeah. Well, I do that at home. I just think everyone's got a whole story - we've seen that today, talking to people. But the kinda people that live here. They're just, somehow, the best of people.'

'What would you say to people who think that small town living is for small people?'

'I think that every person has the potential to make the best of any place. You're gonna be the same person whether you live in Punx or Philly, but you've gotta know that beauty can be found everywhere. You've gotta love life, and life ain't localised to one spot. I don't know, maybe you have to see that before you can appreciate where you came from.'

Davey closed his eyes for a moment, and nodded. 'Thanks, Crutchie.'

'You okay, Dave?'

'Yeah. I just. You got it in one, man.' He smiled at Crutchie. 'We'll leave you alone.'

They walked away from the bakery. The puppy squirmed in Jack's arms and Davey placed the second half of the cupcake in Jack's mouth, re-enacting one of his favourite portions of this day's previous versions. It felt like years since these events had occurred for the first time, though he always remembered that they would be happening, whether he was here to experience them or in the hotel room ignoring them studiously. Again, they were a pleasant sort of familiar. He could help out, so he was. But he had to let the man fall off the ladder. Because he couldn't change everything.

'Shit, that was a wild few minutes,' Jack quipped as they continued towards the park, after checking that the man was okay. 'I'm so glad you caught that little guy, that was way impressive.'

'What can I say, maybe it's my calling. I'm kind of thinking...' He paused as they entered the park, a vast white field peppered with figures playing in the snow, almost too bright to look at. 'We can juxtapose what Spot was saying with this view. And then maybe some shots of the main road, of people going about their business, with what Crutchie was saying about the people here. Put the narratives of that young couple and then the older couple on either side. And Race's story just in the middle.'

'That sounds like a plan, man.' Jack kicked at the snow as Davey panned around the landscape. He cleared his throat. 'Davey, about this morning.'

It was almost forgotten. In the sense that it wasn't at the forefront of his mind in that second. But Jack's words brought it screaming back.

'This morning?'

'When you saw that person in my bed. I saw you... see him.'

'Oh, I barely...'

'Yeah. Sure. I'm really sorry about it. I know it's unprofessional, we're away for business. I just. It's a bad habit of mine. Or a good habit, depending on how you look at it. And it's not a secret, that I'm bi, I just, y'know. Never expected to shove it in my producer's face.'

'You didn't shove it in my face. I came to your door. You've got nothing to be sorry for.' He paused for a second. 'We've all done it.'

'Yeah... Yeah. I guess. Thanks.'

A bad habit. Davey understood that. It was that kind of habit that had brought him back to Spot when he was at his lowest. That need for touch, just for someone to pay you attention. Maybe he was filling in the blanks too much, but it was almost reassuring in a way. Jack wasn't perfect, and he wasn't in Punx just to be a background character in Davey's redemption arc, he had his own shit. He was glad, in a way, that Jack had gone as far as acknowledging it, because even though it was technically none of Davey's business, he almost sort of wanted it to be. He had gone from not caring about Jack, to seeing him in that new light that made it look like the sun shone out of his ass, to maybe seeing that he wasn't just there to be a solution to Davey's Groundhog Day crisis. He was just a guy - a hot guy, who slept with strangers, who tried to make jokes to cheer people up even when they didn't feel like it, and was insecure and hard on himself too.

Davey found himself overcome with the impulse to take the end of Jack's scarf and use it to pull him in for a long warm kiss as the snow fell around them in that Punxsutawney park, but swallowed it down, trying yet again to put himself in Jack's shoes. Maybe they would find themselves back where they were that one amazing day, and maybe they wouldn't. Maybe it wasn't about that.

'So what do you think?'

'Hmm?

Jack nodded down at the camera. 'Got enough stuff to send to Andy?'

'I... I think so. For now. It's gonna be like. A first draft, before we ask him to commit.'

'He'll understand that we did it in less than a day, right?'

'Hopefully.' He stashed the camera in the bag. 'Do you wanna come help me edit this thing? I mean - not to, like, stop you exploring Punx. But. Your input has been really helpful today.' He could still ask, right? What, was it illegal for him to want to spend time with the guy he liked? Worst Jack could do was say no. God, that would be the worst.

'Yeah. That sounds fun.'

They headed back out through the park, and happened upon the broken down car. Again, Davey had found that he'd enjoyed this part of the Good Day, so let Jack take over (remembering with a shiver those words Did it to impress you, wondering if they were conditional, still relevant today.) When they arrived back from the auto shop and the car was back up and running, one of the women got out of the car and placed a hand on Jack's forearm.

'Now, boys.' More new. More different. Progress? 'Don't think we haven't noticed you all being so nice to all our people. Asking our stories, getting to know us, I mean really! Usually people like you, you just soar through like Punx is the last place you wanna be!' Davey glanced at the ground then, wondering if he was meant to feel like he was getting told off. 'We love it, we love talking about Punx, and we wanna say thank you for listening. We have a dance every year to celebrate - or commiserate - Phil coming out of his hole, and we'd be honoured if you'd join us tonight.' Her grip was tight on Jack's arm, he'd joke about it lightly as they walked away.

'That's really sweet, Mrs...'

'O'Dwyer.’

'Mrs. O'Dwyer. I wouldn't miss it.' Jack grinned at her. 'Davey, down to boogie with Punxsutawney Phil?'

'Oh, you know it.' He nodded, answering without thinking, just knowing that he had to go. 'Means a lot, ma'am.'

'You'll save me a dance?' Jack directed this at her, and Davey definitely didn't have a flash of jealousy, because that would be immature.

'Oh, stop it.' She twinkled at him, a grin creasing her eyes.. 'From six thirty, down at the community centre. Til then!'

They drove away, and Davey and Jack continued back to the hotel, past the bar. Davey winced as he remembered he had business in here as well, and couldn't tell if he had to go in to stop the fight or not. He'd almost gotten beaten up when he had done it before, and only really got away with it because Jack knew what was going on. But if he didn't, then someone else would get beat up in his place. Who was to say that, like the man falling off the ladder, it wasn't just something that was meant to happen? It was like a compulsive ritual, he felt like he had to have all the pieces in place for this day to go right, but he couldn't figure out how to make this piece fit.

'Dave, you okay?' Jack was a few steps ahead of where Davey had stopped in his tracks.

'Yeah. Sorry. Just. Headache, all of a sudden.' Half true.

'Oh, dude. Do you wanna duck in here and get some water?' Jack nodded towards the bar and Davey stared at him, unsure how clearly his desperation to go in had transmitted to Jack.

'Yeah. Good idea.' He turned around and walked inside with him.

He surveyed what he had seen before. Men everywhere, a group of men in fleeces and fur-lined hats playing pool, a gang of bikers standing in a wide circle, that one fateful pint of beer in its precarious position between them. He watched the man he knew was destined for a fight laugh at something, head thrown back, hacking noises up into the air, and walked forward, towards the bar. Slowly, delicately, he reached the table, and as subtly as he could, pulled it towards him, just a couple of inches.

He held his breath.

No-one saw.

He took a step back and watched as the pool cue bypassed it, and then the biker turned around, barely seeing the pair of them, before picking up the beer and taking a gulp.

As easy as that.

But now Jack was looking at him weirdly.

'... What?'

'Hmm?' He held Jack's gaze, mind racing for an explanation to the random action. Nothing. Then 'I thought that guy was going to knock the other guy's drink over. Thought. Just in case.'

'Oh. Good eye.'

When they arrived back at the hotel, finally, they sat on Davey's bed, ready to work. Then two hours passed, and Jack found himself laying against the pillows, keeping an eye on Davey's laptop screen from where Davey found himself on his stomach, editing the video together.

'The second one.'

'Yeah? You sure?'

'Yeah. It's more... like, it's... I don't know, I just like it better.'

Both had been thinking hard for a long time. The video was almost done. 'I mean, it's not the final thing, right? He'll know that this is... But I still wanna... God damn it.' Davey shut his tired eyes. 'I'm gonna buy our entire video production team dinner when we get back.'

'It's good, Dave - you're doing great! Just, don't think about it too much, right? Let's take one minute to not think about it, then watch from the beginning. Yeah?'

'Yeah.' Davey pushed the laptop away. Caring about so many things simultaneously was exhausting. He barely had time to celebrate being in bed... on bed... with Jack again, because this god damn video had to be done. Plus there was the matter of the dance he now had to go to. Somehow he felt like he couldn't fake the flu and duck out of it like he had with senior prom. 'Excited about this dance thing?'

'Sure! It'll be something, you know?'

'Totally. I'm looking forward to seeing you dance up a storm with Mrs O'Dwyer.'

'Oh man, you should be.'

Was this dance his boss level? It was so hard to try and discourage himself from thinking that. He felt like both thinking about it and not thinking about it were equally damaging.

'You might hate me for saying this... I don't know...' Jack stared out the window. 'I'm almost glad we got stuck here, y'know? Like, it feels weird even saying that we are "stuck" here. To think that we were gonna just... race back to Philly. Miss all this stuff.'

'No, I... I know exactly what you mean. It's been a good day.'

'It has. That dope cupcake.'

'The puppy.'

'Those views in the park.'

'Hearing peoples' stories.'

'Getting asked out by a car full of old ladies!'

'They didn't all ask you out!'

'Ah, they would have. If it wasn't so cold, they woulda swarmed.'

'I believe you. Your mechanic skills were... very impressive.' Davey had rolled over on to his back and now gazed up the ceiling, thinking that Jack could take what he said either as a joke or at face value and he would be fine whichever way. A long moment of silence hung between them, which Jack broke.

'Should we watch the thing?'

'Yeah.' He turned over, and played the video. They watched in silence, the blue glow of the laptop filling up the room that had grown dark around them in the time they'd been working. It was about five minutes long.

'Dave...' Jack spoke first. 'It's good.' Davey craned his neck to look at Jack, all stretched out on the bed, sleeves rolled up, tie loose.

'Really?'

'Yes! It's Punx, but it's like... Like it's clever, and a different angle, and just. Like. I think you did really, really well with it.'

'You're not just saying that.'

'No! No, if it was crap - not that it would be - but like, if it was, I'd find a really tactful but transparent way of criticizing it. But I literally don't need to.'

'Shit. God, I can't even tell anymore. Do you think I can send it?'

'I think you can send it.'

Hi Andy.

While we were stuck here Jack, Crutchie and I decided to do some work on a little feature. We think it could have real value if you decide to develop it. I really hope you like it, because I do.

He clicked send, and took a deep breath in.

'Cool.'

He stared at the screen, eyes unfocused, imagining the email pinging across the state. All the energy had sapped out of him and he had barely noticed. Jack let out a yawn.

'When did it get so late?'

It was four.

'I don't know...' Davey murmured, his eyes already half shut. Jack might have replied, but Davey was already almost out of consciousness. Within the next couple of minutes, both of them had fallen asleep.

#newsies #newsies fic #jack kelly #davey jacobs #javid #YOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO I'M SORRY ITS SO LONG I WAS GONNA post it in two parts but i knew i wouldn't have any of it done until it was #all done if u get me??????#thank u all for ur patience with this the end is nigh it is NIGH #i've been writing the next chapter already on my phone over the last couple of weeks its so stressful #still being in love with this story and having next to no time to write it #but i hope u love it because i love it

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thebibliomancer · 8 years ago

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Essential Avengers: Avengers #114: Night of the Swordsman

August, 1973

When Swordsman and his new ally Mantis get hold of a cache of Pym particles, they shrink the Avengers down to finally enact vengeance upon the team-

Wait. I think this is one of those covers that isn’t actually literal. Whoops.

Well just allow me one joke. THIS IS MANTIS’ BIG DAY!

So we start the comic with Scarlet Witch brooding. Because this is an Avengers comic and someone has to brood. But also because a bunch of jerks that strapped bombs to themselves and took off their pants almost killed the Vision. So she’s in a bad place, emotionally.

Not helped by someone making symbolic shadow puppets right outside her window.

In her moody wanderings, she also contemplates passing privilege and how since she could pass as human she never fully saw herself as different from humanity.

Unlike Pietro with his prematurely white hair and handlebar cowlicks.

Meanwhile, Captain America and Iron Man try to beat up Vision in mock combat in the Not-Danger Room to see how he’s recovered from his injuries.

To summarize:

He is fit.

Captain America agrees. Good thing Vision is an android! If a human had someone explode in their face, they’d still be bedridden, probably.

This sets off Scarlet Witch who was watching the little mock fight. Even their friends keep reminding them that they’re not the same.

She decides to go for a walk. If she hoped to calm down she’s out of luck because she instantly runs into the worst cat-caller.

Lets call him Harry Terribleguy. Harry Terribleguy stands in her way, snidely comments on her getting her jollies from kissing a plastic man (but not Plastic Man), tells her he finds her sexually attractive, and then says that its a shame that Vision didn’t die because then she’d be on the open market.

So Wanda blasts him through a hot dog cart and calls him a stinking human pig.

Which, y’know. They say violence doesn’t solve everything but violence is about to solve this particular situation.

Harry Terribleguy springs right back up from getting blasted through the air with the greatest of ease. He is downright peeved that she called him human like its a dirty word. Can you believe the nerve? So he decides to teach her a slap lesson with slaps.

[Then suddenly, from behind--] a new challenger.

Mantis joins the fray.

Already we see that Mantis is mighty impressive. With one glancing hit to the shoulder, she knocks Harry away from Wanda even though she was clearly punching him toward her. Her punches don’t just break bones, they make a mockery of physics.

Wanda tries to stop Mantis, saying random Harry is too strong. And Harry says that standing up to him is suicide.

And then Mantis punches him in the face... one, two, three... a lot. A lot times.

Mantis is apparently a master of preying mantis style kung fu. I assume. I don’t know enough to know whether the artist knows enough to portray it correctly. Also, Mantis is not a codename. Its her only name. I wonder if she was called Mantis before she mastered preying mantis style or what.

Also, she has antenna. She must have been hiding them in her six previous panels in the last two issues.

Did she learn preying mantis style because she figured ‘well I got the antenna already’? Or does mastering preying mantis style kung fu cause you to grow antenna?

Truly, Mantis is a mysterious character.

Anyway, Harry Terribleguy is gonna want some aspirin and probably ice to put on his face when he wakes up because he is WHOMP!’d. Mantis offers to escort Wanda home.

When they arrive at Avengers Mansion, the Avengers have all been worried about Wanda. She went somewhere without even leaving a note! They were about to go looking for her.

Geez, the Avengers are so clingy.

Anyway, Wanda insists that she can take care of herself (despite these comics going out of their way to spitefully disprove that whenever they can) and besides she made a new friend.

She invites Mantis inside but Cap objects. Unauthorized people in the clubhouse headquarters? THATS AGAINST THE RULES.

Wanda thinks Cap is being ridiculous. What harm could Mantis possibly do to the Avengers Assembled?

Swordsman pipes in to agree with Cap. If, for example, he were planning a sneak attack, their shitty, shitty security would have been no problem for him.

But he claims he’s not here to fight. Despite how reluctantly they accepted his help against Ares in issue #100, when he heard that Hawkeye had ragequit the team, he decided it was time for him to rejoin.

Cap is not quite thrilled. Swordsman is the worst security risk he has ever met. And in case anyone forgot, he runs through a little history of the Swordsman. The first time he conned his way onto the team, he was working to undermine them for the Mandarin.

And even if he claimed Mandarin had duped him into treachery, he then attacked the Avengers several more times for good measure. Remember how he joined Natasha’s Angels?

But Swordsman gives his side of the story. Yeah, no. Everything Cap has said is true. Swordsman has been a shitty person. And guess what he has learned from that? It is a lonely, nasty life. You make zero friends. He is persona non grata across most of the world.

Eventually he stopped caring and let himself sink into the depths of degradation. It was only meeting Mantis that helped him turn his life around. It was her interest in him that made him want to be a better person. It was her that convinced him to rejoin the Avengers and live the right life for once.

Cap doesn’t buy it.

Wanda on the other hand is the only other Avenger on the team from that time. And in her opinion, there’s been too much prejudice involved with them lately.

And the Avengers side with Wanda. Iron Man points out that Wanda and Hawkeye all had criminal records before joining. And they both proved themselves.

Thor argues that at the least, they can offer Swordsman a period of probation. With Thor taking the responsibility of keeping close watch on him.

And Black Panther just says that the name of the team is “Avengers” not “Revengers.” Which sure is an argument.

Cap loves democracy so he bows to the will of the majority. But he’ll also keep a close eye on Swordsman. Distrust but verify, y’know?

With that settled, Iron Man asks if Mantis is also asking to join.

Being an Avenger doesn’t really mean anything to her. She only wants to stay at Swordsman’s side. But screw it, I’m considering her an Avenger anyway. Try and stop me.

Wanda tells Mantis that of course she can stay in the Mansion and come on missions and spend girl time with her! Wanda really, really wants a girl friend to hang out with. Avengers Mansion is such a boys club.

In gratitude Mantis gives Wanda a big ol’ hug and gives the Guyvengers big ol’ kisses. I’ll talk a little about that later.

So, we get some compressed time. Several days and several missions go by with Swordsman on the team in his probationary status. Hmm. I’m reminded that his first time on the team was time skipped through as well.

At least this time we get to see some of it.

They fight sea monsters and robots and presumably other things and all throughout Swordsman acquits himself well. At no point does Thor detect any sign of treachery. Just bravery and skills.

So at the end of the vague number of probation days, Thor recommends Swordsman for full membership into the Avengers. The guy is really good with a sword, you guys. He even rivals any e’er seen in Asgard.

And its not that Vision and Black Panther don’t believe Thor. They just kinda want to see it for themselves. So how about a little friendly suspicious sparring match in the gymnasium?

So Swordsman and Vision shit talk each other a bit. Swordsman is the best blade artist in the world, Vision rarely offers a good target and also shoots solar beams from his forehead, I’ll see your solar beam and match you a sword beam that Mandarin put in my sword.

Black Panther jumps in. Did you mean that Mandarin who is a supervillain maybe?

Swordsman is a bit offended that Black Panther still thinks he’s trying to infiltrate and destroy the team. Black Panther offers a good point that in the middle of mock combat, he could “accidentally” kill of the Avengers with nobody the wiser so no way in hell is Black Panther going to give him the chance.

Plus, mock or no, the point of battle is to win so that’s what Black Panther is going to do.

And then he runs headfirst into Swordsman’s pommel with a TUNK!

Swordsman stands over the prone Black Panther with his sword pointed at Black Panther’s throat.

“You underestimated me, Panther! A lot of dead men made that same mistake, as their final act in life--”

But that’s not him anymore. All-New All-Different Superior Swordsman doesn’t kill anyone anymore. Especially not his teammates.

And apparently this puts to rest most of the suspicion the team has about Swordsman.

Another unknown amount of time passes until one day, Hawkeye is on the evening news. Because, remember, the Avengers get most of their information from television news.

Hawkeye is back in New York, making a name for himself as a solo act in Hulk #166. Swordsman dismisses Hawkeye as a grandstander. Swordsman taught him everything he knows so with him on the team, the Avengers don’t need Hawkeye.

And then he walks out of the fancy television news room with inadequate chairs.

Cap wonders if he should follow him... but decides that would just be neurotic.

Upstairs, Swordsman meets with Mantis. It is time, the hour has arrived. See, studying martial arts gives you limited knowledge of mysticism, obviously.

Which Mantis uses to summon...

THE LION GOD!

I told you he’d be back.

THE LION GOD promises the two traitors will feel the warm glow of his gratitude for preparing a path to victory and then he OH YEAHS through a WALL to attack Black Panther.

The Lion God is very big now. Also just as mean. He mocks the Avengers for believing in wolves wearing lambskins and also for thinking they could destroy a god.

Thor throws Mjolnir at the big Lion God but in the split-second he’s distracted catching it, Mantis punches Thor in a pressure point in the neck, knocking him out.

Meanwhile, Swordsman blasts Vision with an electronic ray that hits him even intangible.

And Mantis puts a death-grip on Captain America to knock him out. So not quite a death grip.

And Lion God finally joins his own murder party and blasts Iron Man with his backup divine weapon, the Lion God Hunting Spear, sold separately.

And then with the rest of the Avengers knocked out, the Lion God just scoops up Black Panther in his big hand.

How tall are the roofs in this place anyway?

Except this time, Lion God doesn’t want Black Panther’s tribal secrets. I think he’s still a little pissed over last time. Instead, he’s going to burn Black Panther at the stake as a sacrifice to the Lion God glory.

Its always human sacrifice with this dude.

Swordsman thinks this sounds A-Okay.

But do you know what goes great with human sacrifice?

Live performances!

Swordsman performs a sword salute traditionally performed to pay homage to a liege. It looks like he’s just spinning the sword around by part of the crossguard but what do I know?

This is evidently a very sparkly salute. The sword catches the light and creates a compelling pattern of spinning flashes.

Not to be left out, Mantis dances a special sensuous dance just for the occasion! It just so happens that she’s dancing in the middle of Swordsman’s sword strobe show.

The Lion God is completely hypnotized by this. I dunnae. Maybe this performance should have come with an epilepsy warning.

My description does not do this justice. Check it out:

But so taken in by the psychedelic sparkle dance that the Lion God doesn’t notice Iron Man coming to. The armored Avenger blasts a button that drops an impenetrable adamantium cylinder right over the Lion God.

Since the Lion God was in his mortal form (begging the question of who he body jacked this time), he should be well and trapped. And Thor can just blast the Lion God into another dimension and keep him off T’Challa’s back for good.

Because that’s what Thor learned from his dad. Just dump your problems into other dimensions where they’ll be someone else’s problem.

Sure was lucky though that the Lion God was standing on the one spot where an inescapable cylinder would drop.

So about that...

IT WAS MANTIS’ PLAN. Her study of martial arts give her empathy with the natural world. After she and Swordsman arrived, she sensed a malignant force hovering over the Mansion.

So she came up with a plan to lure it into a trap by pretending to side with the Lion God. Then they’d use their distraction moves to steal his will to destroy and trap him.

So why didn’t they just tell the Avengers? Well. I mean. They were already suspicious of the Swordsman. What do you think they’d say if he told them he wanted to let the Lion God into Avengers Mansion and pretend to help him destroy the Avengers?

How do you think that would have gone over?

Thor thinks this is rad. Swordsman "played a dangerous game with great daring!” Thor does strike me as a guy with appreciation for doing things in the most awesome way.

Cap still finds himself suspicious. Faking being traitors to help capture the Lion God would be the perfect smokescreen to get away with worse treachery later down the line.

Cap is possibly paranoid. Possibly justly so. Who knooooows!

So! Mantis’ real first appearance for more than three mysterious panels!

Obviously, there are problems. Mantis being an Asian woman (specifically Vietnamese-German) with the power of martial arts. Also vague mysticism. Kind of leaning on stereotypes there.

I said I’d talk about the kissing and here I go. Its not a problem as presented where its just kind of charming. Its a problem as originally envisioned. According to Steve Englehart, "Basically Mantis was supposed to be a hooker who would join the Avengers and cause dissension amongst all the male members by coming onto each of them in turn."

That plan, thankfully, was largely abandoned.

More of a neutral than a problem but this is a densely packed issue. This is the kind of story that modern comics would stretch out to a multi-parter. Chris Claremont would probably unfurl a plot like this over a year of stories.

But despite all that, I love this issue.

There is so much good here! Using a similar-ish plot structure to sow suspicion about the Swordsman’s motives, making it plausible that he really did join the team to betray them to the Lion God. If you discount the mysterious panel appearances leading up to this issue.

That the Avengers still believe in second-chances even with everything that’s been happening in their lives.

Also, Mantis!

Mantis gets a strong introduction, at least in the sense that she gets to show off what she can do quite a bit. At this point she’s a bit of a satellite character to Swordsman, although the narration hints at mysterious dimensions to her.

Also, Mantis instantly becoming Wanda’s best friend because a best friend will break someone’s septum for you. Alas, this will inevitably devolve into love triangles and cattiness but dangit, it could have been one of the great superhero friendships.

(Imagine a Scarlet Witch/Mantis team-up book, for example. ‘She’s magic, she punches people in the throat. Together, they fight crime.’)

And lets never forget that Swordsman and Mantis defeat a god with some flashing lights and a distracting dance.

It was pretty glorious.

So now Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 2 is out and I’m going to go see it. Because I’ve long hoped that my inexplicable fave Avenguardian would someday be in the MCU. She probably won’t save the day with a distraction dance but I hope she gets a cool, charming portrayal. Because that’s how she’ll be in the comics from then on.

Hey, if you like this cool Avengers liveblog, consider following @essential-avengers. One day, the liveblog will live there.

#Avengers #Mantis #Swordsman #the Lion God #these tags are spoilers #Thor thinks Swordsman is cooler than Fandral #disco party maneuver is sadly underused in Avengers tactics #Essential Avengers #Essential marvel liveblogging #when she joins the Silver Surfer book Mantis decides to backpack around space #and that's magical

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pitviperofdoom · 8 years ago

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BNHA: Discombobulate, 3/?

Summary: After a battle with a villain goes terribly wrong, all Shouto wants is a cheap, quiet place to lie low and recover from a handful of difficult lifestyle changes. Instead, he ends up throwing his lot in with a former schoolmate with a peculiar job, a unique set of skills, and a troublesome aversion to minding his own damned business.

(Sherlock Holmes AU)

AO3

There were many things that Shouto knew to brace himself for during his “sabbatical”. Weathering questions from fellow heroes. Being recognized by fans in public. Hearing media updates as news sources recycled the story ad nauseum and got details wrong. Deleting the endless amount of missed calls, text messages, and voicemails from Endeavor or any of Endeavor’s subordinates. Even, possibly, curious questions from whoever happened to be sharing living space with him.

The latter, at least, proved not to be a problem. Midoriya was not only discreet, if the lack of curious fans and enthusiasts knocking on the door in the ensuing days were any indication, but was also tight-lipped around Shouto himself, at least where his situation was concerned. Midoriya did talk. Shouto would even go so far as to call him chatty. On the first day alone, after offering to accompany Shouto to his temporary hotel room to pick up the rest of his things, Midoriya had dragged him into a conversation about chess strategy, of all things. From there the topic had shifted organically to physics, then the current climate in heroics, and then the role of the mainstream media. If there was one thing that Shouto learned from the trip, it was that Midoriya Izuku was keenly interested in heroics. He could talk up a storm about it, from battle strategy to quirk application theory to the relationship between pro heroes and police. And yet, not once did he question Shouto about his own background. Shouto didn’t offer any information, in the moments that he could get a word in edgewise, and Midoriya never asked him for it. Shouto had been bracing himself for questions, considering that Midoriya seemed to have some kind of perception-enhancing quirk, but none came.

So, in spite of the rocky start, his roommate was tolerable. They had agreed on two weeks for Shouto’s trial run, but if Shouto were honest with himself, his mind was made up three days in. But that raised an entirely new problem for him, one that he had not been prepared for: boredom.

His release from the hospital, followed by his unceremonious departure from his father’s agency—and his father’s house—had left him with a sense of urgency that had occupied his every waking moment. As long as he was awake, he was wondering what to do next, trying to come up with a proper plan, trying to decide between blowing money on a hotel room (even a cheap one) or finding an alternative.

Well, now his alternative was found and implemented. He had a place to sleep and keep his few belongings, and a place to sit down and realize that he had no idea what to do next. The media thought his “break” from hero work was a temporary one; and why wouldn’t they, when his father’s people were making it quite clear that they thought so, too? As far as the world was concerned, he would be back to work in a few weeks.

And he wanted to be; more than anything in the world, he wanted to be. He would have loved nothing more. The work was all he wanted. It was all he had ever known to want. But he couldn’t fight villains with an injured leg. And even without that… he couldn’t go back.

Well, he could. If he went crawling back to his father, head bowed, begging forgiveness, he knew that Endeavor would accept him back. He knew his father would erase his resignation from the agency’s records—if he’d ever even bothered to put it down in the first place. Endeavor was a confident man; if he had any doubts that Shouto would come back with his tail between his legs, then Shouto would be very surprised.

That was all the more reason why he absolutely couldn’t go back.

So for now, Shouto was left with an ever-present pain in his left knee, and no idea what he was supposed to do from here.

With few other options, he alternated between shutting himself in his room to research other agencies and openings, searching for any more options for himself, and venturing out to explore the neighborhood or socialize if he could manage it. Iida’s company was tolerable, if a bit awkward. Uraraka was easy to talk to now that she, too, thought that his situation was temporary. Yaoyorozu, on the occasion that he saw her, was quiet about his situation, but didn’t pry. And as for Midoriya…

Tolerable he might be, but as the days of the first week passed, Shouto gained little more insight on exactly what sort of “consultant” his new roommate was supposed to be.

Midoriya did, as he had warned, receive multiple visitors. More than once, Shouto wandered out of his room, only to find Midoriya conducting some kind of business in the living room and perform a quick about-face turn to avoid being spotted. His roommate always met with either one or two people at a time, and they spent each meeting conversing in low tones or bent over some folder or cardboard box. It was all very quiet and secretive, and Shouto gained a strong impression that his very presence would be disruptive to it.

Whatever “it” was.

It certainly didn’t help that Shouto had yet to work out the exact nature of Midoriya’s quirk. As of yet, he had a few possibilities mentally sorted out, among them telepathy, empathy, precognition, postcognition, psychometry, or just general quirk-enhanced instincts. Midoriya never offered up an explanation, but continued to rattle Shouto from time to time by casually plucking, as if from thin air, some little bit of knowledge that he had no business knowing. Anything from what and where Shouto had eaten for lunch with Yaoyorozu (Shouto was fairly sure Yaoyorozu hadn’t simply told him), to the fact that he’d spent Wednesday morning buying flowers (to visit his mother, though if Midoriya had somehow divined that, he didn’t mention it).

At one point, in a moment of vague whimsy, Shouto wondered if he’d accidentally ended up sharing an apartment with some kind of criminal. Not likely, of course; if straitlaced Iida thought highly of him, then Midoriya could be nothing less than a moral paragon. Still, considering that his first impression of Midoriya was to see him strolling out of a basement spattered in what closely resembled blood, he could hardly be blamed for letting it cross his mind.

He did not wonder for long. Not five days into living with Midoriya Izuku, Shouto wandered out to the kitchen around six in the morning (because old habits were harder to kill than cockroaches) to put on hot water for tea. After yawning over the kettle, he turned around, happened to wander out into the living room, and nearly tripped over his former homeroom teacher.

Somehow, he managed to catch his balance with his cane, and not do so by accidentally jamming it into Aizawa Shouta’s ribcage. After a bit of clumsy, uncoordinated stumbling—the product of a bad leg, not enough practice with a cane, and the fact that he’d just woken up—he managed to retreat back toward the kitchen, all without disturbing the man currently fast asleep on the living room floor.

A sudden wave of self-consciousness flooded him, and he ducked back into the kitchen to tend to the kettle. A few minutes later, Midoriya—bright-eyed, wide awake, unreasonably cheerful Midoriya—wandered out, stretching his arms back to pop his shoulders.

“Morning,” he said, loudly enough to make Shouto twitch. “Don’t worry about Eraser,” he went on, as if reading Shouto’s mind—and maybe that was what he was doing, since Shouto hadn’t gotten around to asking about the particulars of his quirk. “He sleeps like a rock. You’d have to beat him over the head with a live cat to wake him up.”

“Oh,” Shouto answered lamely, as Midoriya set his phone on the counter and went to the fridge. Shouto poured himself a mug of hot water and set about preparing tea. “What’s… what’s he doing here?”

“Project,” Midoriya answered, digging through the fridge for leftovers. “He stops by from time to time. He’s a pretty frequent, uh, client I guess? I’ve never really decided what to call it when I work with people.”

“You work with Aizawa-sensei?” Shouto couldn’t help but ask.

Midoriya grinned at him as he popped a takeout box into the microwave. “Our styles match up pretty well. Plus he’s one of the best among the older crowd when it comes to putting up with me.”

“I see.” Shouto didn’t see. He hadn’t realized that Midoriya’s work, whatever it was, led him to collaborate with pro heroes. But in that case, what was he? He didn’t seem to be in support. Management, perhaps? But management didn’t often hire independent contractors, not when proper hero management required knowing and working closely with the heroes themselves. It wasn’t the sort of work that lent well to hiring temporary outside consultants.

“Anyway, he might wake up once I put on some coffee,” Midoriya went on. “Do you want any, or are you good with just tea?”

“I don’t like coffee,” Shouto said.

“Fair enough.” Midoriya leaned against the counter and started the coffee maker. Shouto wrinkled his nose as the smell filled the kitchen, but didn’t comment. To each his own, and all that.

“So… how long have you known Aizawa-sensei?” This wasn’t prying, was it? He hoped it wasn’t.

It must not have been, because Midoriya answered him quite readily. “A few years now,” he said. “I did go to UA.”

“Not Heroics, though.” Shouto said. “Gen Ed, right?”

There was a pause before Midoriya answered. “Yeah,” he said. Shouto glanced up from his tea, puzzled. He could have sworn he heard a chill in Midoriya’s tone.

“So when did you get the chance—”

“It wasn’t chance,” Midoriya cut him off. His tone was light, but he was looking at the coffee machine instead of at Shouto. “I approached him. Needed his help with… a project. He was nice enough to help me out.”

Shouto stared at him from across the kitchen, and let the stony silence speak for him. He certainly didn’t need a perception quirk to see through that one.

His roommate continued to look everywhere except for at him. His coffee finished, he picked up the mug and swished it around with the spoon to cool it. “No I am not a liar, thank you very much.”

“Aizawa-sensei,” Shouto said flatly. “‘Nice’.”

“Okay so I worded that badly,” Midoriya snorted. “It took some convincing, but he came around.”

“To what, exactly?” His tea was finally satisfactory, so Shouto took a sip and pressed his luck. “What did he help you with?”

He could almost hear the gears turning as Midoriya sipped his coffee and considered his answer. Finally, his roommate lowered the mug. “I asked him to teach me how to fight.”

Shouto gaped. Midoriya continued to not look at him.

“And he agreed?” was the first thing Shouto could think to say.

Finally Midoriya looked up at him with a serene little smile. “I can be convincing when I want to be,” he said, whatever that was supposed to mean.

Shouta continued to stare at him incredulously. Moral paragon, he reminded himself. Iida likes him. He can’t be anything less.

It certainly didn’t help that, taken a certain way, Midoriya’s little non-answer could be construed as—

“I didn’t blackmail him,” Midoriya said, before Shouto had quite finished the thought, which put one point under the “telepathy” box.

“I never accused you of—”

“You were going to suggest it,” Midoriya said primly, which could have supported telepathy or precognition.

“Why?” Shouto asked. “Why ask him?”

“Because he was the best person to help me,” Midoriya replied. “You can find teachers and clubs and trainers anywhere, just crack open a phone book, but… they weren’t what I was looking for. I needed him, so… I talked him around.”

“That’s hard to believe,” Shouto said bluntly.

“He’s a stubborn jerk, I’ll give you that,” Midoriya snorted. “Anyway. How goes the job search?”

Shouto inhaled a sip of tea instead of swallowing it, and nearly dropped his mug coughing. His spine went taut, and his grip on the mug tightened until the joints in his fingers creaked.

“You okay?” Midoriya asked him with a smile. His eyes flickered downward, and the grin vanished.

“I don’t know what you mean by job search,” Shouto said, his voice icily calm. “Considering that I told you, repeatedly, that I’m here on temporary leave from work, and that I’m not comfortable discussing it beyond that.”

Alarm flashed across Midoriya’s eyes. “I’m—”

“And the fact that you would think otherwise,” Shouto went on, “makes me seriously wonder how genuine your promise of privacy was.”

“I’m sorry,” Midoriya broke in. He cradled his mug in both hands, cringing in embarrassment. “I’m sorry. I just—I forgot. I didn’t mean to offend you.” His eyes lowered again briefly, and Shouto glanced down, following his gaze. His mug was in his right hand; the tea in it was now frozen solid, and the ceramic white with a layer of frost.

Truthfully, Shouto wasn’t certain why he was so upset about it. From a practical standpoint, his own reaction didn’t make sense. Midoriya wasn’t wrong by any means, nor had he phrased his question unkindly. And Shouto was hardly ashamed of it—well, mostly, anyway. His departure had been voluntary. He wasn’t sorry he’d left.

But…

The fact that Midoriya knew at all, after Shouto had been doing his absolute damnedest to keep his situation to himself, was… unsettling. Enough to set Shouto’s teeth grinding.

It felt, more than anything, like an intrusion.

“I just,” Midoriya said suddenly, and Shouto was ashamed to admit that he twitched at his roommate’s voice. Midoriya fell silent again for a few moments more. “E-excuse me,” he said at length, putting down his mug. “I have to check something, need to look up—in my… I’ll be out in a bit. Don’t worry about Aizawa, he’ll wake up when he wakes up. And he has a key.” Without another word, he hurried out of the kitchen and into the living room. Moments later, he came back with a messy folder tucked under his arm and swept back into the hallway. The last Shouto heard was the sound of Midoriya shutting his bedroom door.

Shouto heaved a sigh, pressing the heel of his hand against his forehead. He probably could have handled that better. Maybe it wasn’t fair of him, closing off like that after he’d spent the previous five minutes questioning Midoriya. But his roommate had been ready and willing with his answers. Midoriya’s question, as casual as it might have been, had nonetheless dragged Shouto back to the white lie that he was trying very hard to maintain.

Not that he wasn’t proud of himself for leaving. He’d been wanting to leave from the moment he set foot in his father’s agency.

But it was still his business. His problem. The last thing he wanted was some nosy something-or-other with a perception quirk peeking in on his affairs.

Shouto looked up, eyes clearing, and realized that not only had Midoriya left his coffee sitting on the counter, he had also left food uneaten in the microwave. With another sigh, he left his frozen mug by the sink and limped across the kitchen to retrieve the now-cold coffee. With a grunt of discomfort, he moved on to the microwave to grab the takeout box. Wishing for three hands so that at least he could use his cane to take some of the weight, Shouto put both in the fridge and turned around to go deal with his mug.

In doing so, he ended up facing the entrance to the kitchen, staring his former homeroom teacher in the face.

A full eight seconds passed, quiet and serene, as Shouto simply stared at Aizawa and Aizawa stared back, half-asleep.

“Um,” Shouto said finally.

“Not even gonna ask.” Aizawa swallowed a yawn and moved around him to the coffee pot.

Resigned, Shouto gave up any lingering hopes he had of dodging Aizawa, and turned to defrost and reheat his tea instead.

“Good job on that villain in Ruusan,” Aizawa remarked. “Looked like a hell of a fight.”

Shouto glanced down at his leg. “I handled it.”

“Mm.” The refrigerator door opened, and Aizawa rummaged through it.

Shouto turned to look at him, perplexed. Aizawa stayed the night regularly, had a key, and was apparently comfortable with casually going through Midoriya’s fridge; in spite of his own insistence on privacy, Shouto’s curiosity was piqued.

Before he could think to ask questions, Aizawa beat him to the punch. “How’re you holding up?”

His last exchange with Midoriya had left him defensive, and “I thought you weren’t going to ask,” slipped out before Shouto could stop it.

Aizawa glanced at him with one eyebrow raised. “I’m not gonna ask what you’re doing here. You’re obviously not here on business.” Reaching into the fridge, he pulled out a carton of cream and shut the door. “Doesn’t mean I’m not gonna ask after the well-being of a former student.”

“I’m fine,” Shouto said.

“Of course you are.” Aizawa poured cream into his coffee and added a few spoonfuls of sugar. “But how’re you holding up?”

“I’m holding up fine,” Shouto said, painfully aware of how petulant he must have sounded. He was glad that Aizawa had his back to him; Aizawa was far harder to mislead than Uraraka or Iida. “I just… need some peace and quiet,” he said. At least it was an excuse that he was used to. “Can’t heal up all the way with reporters breathing down my neck.”

“Right.” Shouto tried to read Aizawa’s tone, but his former teacher was as flat as ever. It was impossible to tell whether or not Aizawa accepted it. “Should’ve gone underground. Easier to avoid the vultures if they don’t know you’re there.”

“Never was a chance of that,” Shouto pointed out. “They’ve known I was there since the day I was born.”

“Well, if you wanted to buck them, then you’re certainly in the right place,” Aizawa remarked. “This place might as well be a media dead zone.”

Shouto glanced up at him. “How do you mean?”

“Considering the kind of traffic that goes through this one apartment, you’d think reporters would be battering the door down.” Aizawa’s mouth twisted into a wry smile. “And yet, here we both are. At least Midoriya knows how to keep the press from sniffing this place out.”

“Does it have to do with his quirk?” Shouto asked.

Aizawa paused with the mug halfway to his mouth and met Shouto’s eyes blankly. “Huh?”

“Just wondering,” Shouto said. “Does he see them coming, or what? Do you know?”

For a moment Aizawa simply stared at him over the rim of his coffee mug, blinking slow and unhurried like a cat. Finally, when Shouto was starting to wonder if he’d said something wrong, Aizawa’s head dipped, and he took a drink.

“How much do you actually know about him?” Aizawa asked.

“Not that much,” Shouto admitted, leaning back against the counter to take the weight off his leg. “He talks a lot, but he doesn’t say things about himself very often. I know he does consulting work, but I don’t know its exact nature. And I can tell his quirk has something to do with heightened perception. Beyond that, not much. Uraraka introduced us, and he’s on good terms with Iida, so I figured he’s trustworthy.”

Aizawa snorted. “You forgot the part where he’s a pain in the ass.”

“Mm.” Shouto kept his face neutral. “Then why’d you teach him how to fight?”

“He told you that, did he?” Aizawa poured himself more coffee. “You were in my class three years, Todoroki. Pain in the ass he might be, but I don’t do anything that isn’t worth my time.”

It was almost a compliment, Shouto realized. It was a compliment, by Aizawa’s standards.

“And by the way,” Aizawa added. “Don’t know if you know this, or how long you’ve been here, but if you haven’t figured it out by now, I’ll tell you: you can unclench.”

“I can… what?”

“Whatever you’re trying to get out of being here, you might as well relax in the meantime,” Aizawa told him. “This place is… safe.”

“From what, exactly?” Shouto asked.

Aizawa gave an leisurely shrug. “Nothing exactly. It’s just safe in general. Press won’t touch you. Villains can’t find it. Neither the press nor villains even know to look for it.”

It was… incredibly comforting, actually, to hear that from Aizawa.

“You’re not a client,” Aizawa went on.

“A client of Midoriya’s? No, I’m not.” Shouto shifted his weight again, wondering how that was relevant. “I’m just…” He mentally dithered a moment longer, before finally easing up on his caution. “Honestly, I’ll just be here to help him pay the rent.”

This time Aizawa did look up, only to stare at him with an unreadable expression.

Shouto tapped his left leg with his cane, gingerly so as not to jar his knee. “Recuperating.” The lie was getting shorter and shorter every time he told it.

Aizawa stared at him dubiously. “Don’t know how the hell you can get any ‘recuperating’ done if you’re sharing space with Midoriya.”

“We keep to ourselves,” Shouto said.

“Ah. Explains why you don’t know much about—”

Someone rapped on the door.

With a sigh, Shouto pushed off from the counter and leaned on his cane to go answer it, but a moment later the door opened and heavy footsteps came hurrying in. Before Shouto had time to weigh the pros and cons of retreating to his room and hiding from more of Midoriya’s visitors, yet another distressingly familiar face appeared around the corner.

Detective Naomasa Tsukauchi looked at least as surprised to see Shouto as Shouto was to see him. “Oh!” He blinked, stopping short. His eyes flickered back and forth between Shouto and Aizawa, and then beyond them as if searching for something. “Am I interrupting something?”

“Nothing important,” Aizawa replied. “Coffee?”

“I’m afraid I can’t,” Naomasa sighed. His tie was askew, and he seemed out of breath. “Is Midoriya here?”

“He’s—” Shouto began, before he heard the door down the hall slam open. Midoriya came darting out, almost running into the wall in his haste.

“I’m here! I’m here, what is it, Naomasa?”

Naomasa straightened up at the sight of him. “You told me before to let you know if we found that substance at the scene of a crime.”

Midoriya’s eyes lit up. “I remember, I was there.”

“Well, we found it,” Naomasa informed him. “Tamakawa’s holding off the crime scene team for now so you can get a look, but…”

“Yes!” Midoriya fistpumped. “Fantastic. Let me get my coat—wait.” He hesitated, frowning at Naomasa. Shouto saw his eyes narrow, and surreptitiously leaned out for a better view of his face. There was that look again—that sharp, considering look that Shouto had once seen directed at himself. “Something’s different about this one. There’s been a change… you think this one might not be connected?”

Slowly, Naomasa nodded. “It’s not clear yet what it will do for the case we’re building.”

Midoriya’s eyes shone with keen interest. “What’s changed?”

Naomasa looked grim. “This one has a body.”

#my hero academia #boku no hero academia #bnha sh au #fanfiction #tales from the pit

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