#probably shoved a bunch of kids back in the closet with stuff like that sigh | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

c-rose2081 · 2 years ago

Text

Starchild || 10. Reunited

(Disney Z-O-M-B-I-E-S)

—

“So, what exactly did you bring us here to do again?”

Eliza and Bonzo were currently standing in front of Zed’s closet, not exactly sure what to do next. The doors had been thrown open, revealing the mess inside. And it really was a mess. Things had fallen off hangers, or had simply not been hung up at all. It smelled a bit like a sewer in the corners piled high with old sneakers and football shoes, and there was almost no color variation anywhere.

“I need help going through…this,” Zed insisted, waving to the chaos, “I don’t know what to do with it.”

“You’re serious?”

“Yes I’m serious. Look at it!” Zed barked, “something could come crawling out of there any second.”

“Gar zagata?” Bonzo asked, tilting his head. Eliza nodded in agreement, placing both hands on her hips.

“You haven’t cared about what you wore since Freshman year, Zed,” she stated, not necessarily with malicious intent, but as a simple fact, “this doesn’t have anything to do with Cheery McCheerstein, does it?”

“A-ddison has nothing to do with me wanting to clean up in here, Eliza,” Zed insisted, though it was a lie and all three of them knew it, “everything’s looking a bit…I dunno, ratty. And I just thought maybe it’s time for a change.”

“Looking homeless is your whole brand,” Eliza chuckled, turning back to the mess and scratching her hairline, “but if it’s really what you want to do, we’re here to help.”

“It is. We just need to figure out what’s decent in here. Shouldn’t be that hard, right?”

Of course, it was a lot harder then Zed had anticipated it being. After all, he had been wearing stuff into the ground for four years. Some of the articles they tossed out were from his Freshman year. Back then, he’d been a string bean of a kid with no future, but also no understanding of true hardship. Being a zombie was awful, for sure. But it wasn’t anything like now, where bettering the world always seemed to sit heavily on his shoulders. He hadn’t even thought of something so trivial as his wardrobe for ages. But A-ddison was a Seabrook Cheerleader now. He didn’t want to embarrass her, what with his dirty clothing and ripped jeans.

“Do you think these can be saved?” Zed asked, holding up his old yellowed sneakers and cringing, “it’s my only pair.”

“Those look like they came out of a literal grave,” Eliza chided, “you need new ones.”

“Garza zigga za.”

“Of course I don’t have any money,” Zed sighed heavily, “dad doesn’t make enough to do allowances.”

“We might not have enough left to get you through the week, Zed,” Eliza admitted, examining the pile of things they had set aside as ‘not suitable’, “I can maybe take some of these back with me? Mom can sew up some of the holes.”

“Nah, don’t bother your mom with it. She’s busy enough with you…”

“Hey!” Eliza barked, swinging a sock as she hit Zed in the arm with it, “I hate you!”

“Yeah, yeah. But what am I going to do? Is this really all there is?”

All there is was a pair of black jeans with patches on the knees, some old tan pants that were bunched towards the bottom, a pair of red cargo shorts with worn off brassy buttons, two shirts with faded logos but no rips, something that looked like it was probably a jacket but was now a vest, his favorite sweatshirt, and of course his varsity jacket. Everything else was either athletic and smelled permanently of sweat, or was shredded beyond repair.

“Afraid so, buddy,” Eliza mused, patting his shoulder fondly, “this is what happens when you don’t keep up with the trends.”

“Shut up,” Zed mocked, giving the girl a shove right into the dirty laundry pile as she squealed.

“Ah! Gar zagazig!”

Bonzo swooped into action, saving her from the stench as she hung limply across his shoulder with a deep sign of exhaustion. .

“It must be nice for A-ddison,” she mused, resting on a bent elbow as Bonzo continued to hold her while sorting through the pile of sport shoes, “not having to buy anything? Being able to change how she looks whenever she wants.”

“Maybe. But it takes a lot out of her,” Zed shrugged, frowning, “she won’t admit it, but she was half-asleep by the time Bree invited her out for slushees by the pier.”

“You’re sure leaving A-ddison alone with a human is a good idea?” Eliza wondered, “I mean, it’s only been a day.”

“My, my Eliza. You sound worried about our new friend.”

“I’m not worried about ET, ok? I’m just worried about what’ll happen if she gets found out.”

“Zazig garg,”

“True Bonzo,” Zed agreed with a finger point, “I trust Bree. She really put her neck out for us, letting Addy use her cheer knowhow. They’re besties already.”

“Fine. Say that everything keeps going this smoothly. It won’t take long for people to get suspicious again,” Eliza said, rolling her fingertips against Bonzo’s shoulder, “she has no phone or social media; no address other than here, and no family around. I get that you are more than happy to house her, but it’s a bit weird if people find out she’s living here.”

“I…didn’t even think about that,” Zed mused with a frown, still scratching his head at what little good clothing they pulled from the closet, “do you think people will notice?”

“Of course they will. I had to put her address as ‘in progress’ on her enrollment paperwork. That won’t last forever,” Eliza stated, “she can stay for a little while and be fine, but Seabrook is nosy. What will teachers think if they find out she has no parents?”

“Parents…?” Zed thought, a lightbulb going off in his head, “parents! That’s the solution!”

“What now?”

“A-ddison does have parents. And they are here in Seabrook.”

“You’re kidding,” Eliza scoffed, patting Bonzo on the arm so she could return to her feet.

“No. She told me that! I just totally forgot.”

“Ok, so, A-ddison — an Alien from outer space — has human parents?“

“At least one, yeah,” Zed insisted, “her Grandma was an Alien.”

“Ok so, let me get this straight, A-ddison is actually half-human? And she crashed her ship on Earth to find her parents?”

“Well the crashing part wasn’t on purpose,” Zed laughed, “she made that part very clear. But, no look, if we can find Addy’s parents and maybe reunite them, she’ll have a place to live!”

“Zed, I know Seabrook isn’t the biggest town, but that’s so farfetched even for this kind of situation,”

“What do you mean?” Zed pouted, “it’s perfect.”

“There are hundreds of people in this town, Zed. I’m pretty sure we’d know if one of them was part alien.”

“Gat za.”

“What do you mean, not really? This is ridiculous.”

“Maybe they have the ability to hide like A-ddison does?” Zed agreed with his friend, exchanging a high five as Eliza rolled her eyes.

“Zed, even if that were true we can’t go door to door like Girl Scouts. ‘Hi, are you part Alien? We know your daughter!’ Yeah, great tagline,”

“Eliza…”

“It would be suspicious,” Eliza insisted again, wagging a finger, “z-patrol would know that we know about their missing Alien pilot. No, there has to be another solution that won’t get all of us in trouble.”

“I’m not an expert, Eliza. But it sounds a bit like you care about A-ddison.”

“No, I don’t,” Eliza hissed, folding her arms, “I’m just saying that we can’t expect A-ddison’s parents to show up on your doorstep!”

DING DONG!

Eliza’s words stopped, posture caught mid-argument as all three teens glanced towards the bedroom door.

“Zed!” Zevon called, “There’s someone at the door for you!”

“I really should just…not talk at all,” Eliza huffed, wilting. Zed laughed as he moved past his friends, hurrying out into the hall and down the stairs. It was getting pretty late, but there was still some light left in the day. His dad stood by the open front door. Zoey was in the kitchen, peeking out around the open doorway. Of all the people in Seabrook Zed was expecting to see, the Mayor wasn’t one of them.

“Oh,” he breathed, slowing his pace and frowning as he did his best to straighten up his posture, “Mayor Wells?”

Zed knew the woman faintly. She was a huge part of the Zombie and Werewolf integration program, and shook his hand when the fence was opened permanently. He had worked closely with her team of consultants on the project, but he wasn’t familiar with her in any capacity beyond surface level — if that. Having her show up at his house alone (without her posse of office dwellers) and on a school night was beyond bizarre. Even weirder was that the woman looked distraught. She was physically shaking, and her huge eyes were actively teary.

“What uh…can I do for you, ma’am?” Zed asked, “is something wrong?”

“…my daughter…” she managed out past gasps of tears, “my baby, where is she?”

Zed blinked in confusion, glancing at his dad who looked ready to usher Zoey upstairs and call for help.

“I don’t understand,” Zed admitted, turning back to her, “I think you might be confused.”

“My daughter,” she repeated, “my Addison. You took a picture with her today; I saw it. Where is she? Please…I-I have to see her,”

“I…” Zed was at a loss for words. If the situation wasn’t so delicate, Eliza probably would’ve let loose a curse that could make the pope blush. But Ms. Wells looked ready to unravel right there on the stoop. Her tears were honest and real; the grief caught in her expression was almost painful to look at. She wasn’t lying; Zed knew it, “she’s not here right now,” he told her, lunging forward to keep the woman from collapsing right there on the porch, “come in, Mayor. Please. Dad!”

“On it, son. Eliza, take Zoey upstairs.”

There was a scramble as Zed guided the Mayor to a chair, allowing her to fall into it with a thump. Zevon quickly filled a glass of water, setting it on the table as Zed exhaled shakily.

“Ms. Wells? Are you ok?”

“I’ve been waiting so long,” the woman wept, head bent down as she grappled with her pure white hair, “I thought she was dead.”

“Ma’am. Do you…know about Addison?” Zed wondered hesitantly. The woman paused, then lifted her head.

“Know about her?” She croaked, “what do you mean?”

“About how special she is?” Zed insisted again, “about how she came to be here?”

“I…” Ms. Wells inhaled and exhaled, clearly trying hard not to dissolve into a fit of tears again, “I know that my daughter is different, yes.”

“And you know that she’s part…”

“Alien? Of course. So am I, as was my mother before me.”

Zed felt relief flood through him. Having to deal with another person knowing A-ddison but not her full truth was beginning to weigh on him. After all, she already had to keep her disguise on all day, it wasn’t healthy to hide who she was all the time. Zed would know; he did it every day.

“How do you know about that?” Ms. Wells wondered, glancing around the room, “did she tell you?”

“I found out on my own,” Zed laughed weakly, “she crash landed here on Friday night; I pulled her from the wreck so the z-patrol wouldn’t find her.”

“You did? She crashed! Is she ok?”

“Addy’s fine, ma’am,” Zed insisted, “She’s out with a friend right now and should be back soon.”

“Friend? How many people know about this?”

“Just a few. We’ve been keeping it on the down low since A-ddison is still getting used to Earth.”

“And yet she’s already a Cheerleader,” Ms. Wells sighed, accepting the napkin handed to her by Zevon, “thank you. I’m sorry, it’s just…I thought I‘d never see her again. It’s been 11-years. And then I came across that photo and…”

“You don’t have to explain,” Zed insisted, “I know you’re telling the truth.”

“It’s the hair, isn’t it,” the woman pouted, “can’t do a thing with it; nothing sticks.”

“The pale hair is an Alien thing?” Zed wondered as Ms. Wells nodded haltingly.

“It’s inherited. My mother had white hair for as long as I could remember. A-ddison was born with it as well.”

“It’s technically blue now, but yeah, I can see it,” Zed shrugged, “Ms. Wells, um, I’m not sure how to tell you this but…”

“She doesn’t remember me?”

Zed clicked his jaw shut, words deflating on his tongue.

“Yeah,” he swallowed, “yeah. That.”

“She was only six years old. It’s been a lifetime for her,” Missy sniffled, taking a small sip of water with quaking hands, “all of those important years…stolen from me. Stolen by my own Mother.”

“Uh…” Zed wasn’t sure what to say. What could he say? Having lost his own mother when he was young, he understood what A-ddison did. You latched to the one person ever present in your life. For him, it was his Dad. His rock. His best friend and biggest supporter. For Addy, that person was her Grandma — her Great One — with whom she was close. Ms. Wells seemed to understand this to a degree. Not sure how to proceed with the conversation, Zed turned as there were steps outside on the porch, “I’ll be right back.”

Pivoting on a heel, Zed hurried out the kitchen doorway and intercepted A-ddison as she slipped through the door. She looked completely exhausted, and blinked as he took her aside.

“Zed?” She wondered, “you look shaken.”

“Ah, uh, yes. I am. Look, we have a visitor.”

“Really?” Addy frowned, “I can’t keep this on much longer, my head is killing me.”

“She already knows about you,”

“What?” Addy’s brows popped up in confusion as she released her disguise, letting her hair go back to its usual turquoise and releasing her tail which flicked back and forth in agitation, “but…we know everyone…”

“This is a bit different,” Zed insisted hastily, “Addy, she’s your mom.”

“My…” the Alien blinked and dropped the backpack stolen from Bree to the floor, “but how is that possible?”

“She saw our photo from this morning. She recognized you and came here to see you.”

“I didn’t think she’d still be in Seabrook. I don’t even remember her.”

“But she remembers you, Addy. It’s very emotional, and she’ll probably cry and want to hold you. It’ll be a lot. Are you comfortable with that?”

“I’m not sure if comfortable suits this situation, Zed,” A-ddison frowned, “I mean, my Mother? Someone who I only know through stories. She’s here, right now? It’s all happening so fast.”

“Addy, look. It’s been a long time; almost 11 years. But that woman in there will still be a stranger to you. I want to make sure you’ll be ok with it.”

“I understand, Zed. But I want to know her if I can. Especially with my Great One now part of the Universe.”

“Ok. But you’ll speak up if you need something? Space, a drink, anything?”

“Why are you so worried about this?” A-ddison wondered curiously, brushing her hand against his arm, “I appreciate your concern, but you seem deeply invested.”

“I just…I know what I’d act like if I met my own mom again. It’s a lot of emotions.”

“I would like to meet her,” Addy said with a nod, “do I have to wear my disguise?”

“No. She’s the one you got your heritage from, after all. I don’t think she’d rat us out.”

“Rat…?”

“Figure of speech,” Zed corrected automatically, picking up A-ddison’s hand and squeezing it, “ready?”

“Yes.”

“Ok, come on,” tugging the girl along with him, A-ddison appeared to be nonchalant. Her expression was very flat and practiced. But her grip tightened, and Zed could hear her breathing speed up as the neared the kitchen, “Ms. Wells? This is A-ddison.”

Walking into the kitchen, Addy shifted a bit to stand closer to him as they looked at the woman currently sitting in the chair. The silence was overwhelming, and Zed could absolutely feel that Addy was very nervous. But Ms. Wells slowly rose to her feet. She looked ready to burst into sobs again, refusing to move as she grasped both hands in front of her.

“…h-hi baby,” she whispered faintly, “you probably don’t remember me.”

“I…” A-ddison couldn’t get the words out. But she slowly stepped forward, letting go of Zed’s hand as her antennae flattened on their own, giving away her current anxiety. She moved slowly, like a cautious animal. Ms. Wells was rooted to her exact spot, not even twitching as Addy reached out to very gently touch her snowy white hair, exploring it with her fingers.

“You look so much like my Great One,” A-ddison mumbled, tilting her head as she very slowly ghosted her hand across the elder woman’s face, “you have the same eyes.”

“She used to tell me the same thing,” Ms. Wells nodded, smiling faintly (though her lip was wobbling), “you’ve grown up so much, Addison. You’re beautiful. I remember…h-holding you in my arms. You were so perfect.”

A-ddison smiled too; something wistful and light as she came to some sort of decision in her mind. Obviously she had been thinking very deeply; perhaps trying to decide if this woman really was who she was looking for.

“Mom,” she said finally, accepting the title in her mind as Ms. Wells shattered.

“My baby girl,” she wept, stepping forward to embrace her daughter. Zed moved to intervene — he wanted to intervene. But Addy accepted the embrace, wrapping her arms around her Mom’s back as she wept, “I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry. I promise I‘ll do better.”

Ms. Wells raked a hand through A-ddison’s wide blue curls, pulling away from the embrace to hold her daughters face in both hands, “look at you; you’ve grown into your heritage.”

“Grandma told me stories about you,” A-ddison said, “I’ve always wanted to meet you.”

“We’ll have plenty of time for all of that,” the woman exhaled, heavy and exhausted like a stone had been lifted off her chest. She straightened up, keeping one arm around Addy’s shoulders and running circles across her arm with a thumb as the Mayor glanced back at him.

“I can’t thank you enough, Zed.”

“I didn’t do anything,” he sputtered, shaking off the sense of longing he was feeling for his own mom.

“You brought my little girl here. You kept her safe, and are teaching her about Earth. That’s hardly nothing.”

“Well I mean…” Zed shrugged, rubbing the back of his neck.

“He’s my boyfriend,” A-ddison insisted to her Mother with a grin, “the best there is.”

“So I’ve heard,” Ms. Wells chuckled, once again touching Addy’s cheek to make sure she was still real, “Zed, I owe you and your family so much. If there is anything you need, anything at all, please just say the word.”

“That’s kind of you, Mayor,” Zed smiled, “I’m just glad that A-ddison’s happy.”

“Well, if you think of anything,” the woman smiled, turning to her daughter again to fuss over as Zed shoved both hands into his pockets and paused. Glancing towards the staircase, his bedroom light was still shining. Bonzo, Eliza and Zoey were probably still dealing with Mount Dirty Laundry.

“Uh, Mayor?” He asked, pursing his lips as the woman turned to look at him again, “there is…one thing, that I could use some help with.”

Tag List:

@theredrenard

@disneyfan50

@rose-sparks13

@magical-ashley

@kokinu09

@octolingo-writes

@fantasticvoidnerdshoe

@sayorseee

@zeddisonss

@uglyduckling339

@descendantofthesparrow

@mbradshaw1997

#disney zombies #starchild au #alternate universe #zed necrodopolis #addison wells #zeddison #z o m b i e s #z o m b i e s 2 #z o m b i e s 3 #missy wells #eliza zambie #bonzo zombies #zoey necrodopolis #writing #fanficion #disney fanfiction #world building #lore building

47 notes · View notes

chipper-smol · 3 years ago

Text

Hollow Knight Telephone Round Two: Babysitter SL

Prompt: Shade (lord) is in the midst of final exams and they’re more stressed and tired than usual while babysitting. They accidentally fall asleep in the middle of a calm spell and the god babies become worried. The next time Shade comes over, all of the god babies present a gift they all made together!

By @minnesotamidian-blog

Shade barely noticed their surroundings as they entered the nursery playroom. Plastic clattered and they sighed as Radiance yelled at the top of her lungs. At least she wasn't screaming. Yet. The scene was set: Unn was still in a crib and chewing on a bar, Root was climbing slowly onto a chair. Radiance was knocking over plastic blocks as Grimm cackled away. For once, Wyrm was playing peacefully with a kick toy, batting at it with his tail. Root got onto the chair and squealed, raising her arms. "Big Root now!" The little blue-eyed godling squeaked out.

Shade picked her up, hugged her to their chest before holding her out. "Now you're a flying Root."

She screamed laughter as Shade tiredly walked her around the room before setting her down near some of her favorite toys. They made sure nobody else had claimed the chair and took a seat, bending over to pick up the fussy moth. "Ancient enemy!" Of course she bit their hand.

Shade winced and just ran a hand over her fluff. "Are you hungry for something that isn't void?" They spoke tiredly.

"Oranges!" She yelled out.

The teen sighed as he went to the mini-fridge with snacks and found some miracle of miracles! pre-peeled oranges. Shade pulled them out and put her in a high chair with one at a time so she wouldn't be tempted to throw the extras at them.

Finals were here and they were really taking it out of the gangly god. Why did they have to know stuff about inorganic chemistry? Why did they have to know about history nobody cared about? There were some fun subjects, but the finals seemed to even suck the fun out of those classes, going over notes and studying everything just in case. They'd been pulling long nights and the night before had been an all-night cram session-and they still had to come to work, they couldn't afford not to. They'd underlined all the stuff the teacher had said was important to remember and had written down stuff from the last finals about each teacher's usual tests.

It made narrowing down what to study from impossible to I'm totally toast. They groaned as they set down a calmer Radiance the opposite side of the room from Wyrm. She found toys that interested her, at least. Root wandered over to Wyrm, who was really into knocking at the kick toy and purring. Root settled nearby and burbled as she hugged and gnawed a plushie.

The teen couldn't help it. The kids were calm for once; their head started to tilt forward, eyes heavy. They were exhausted. Shade's eyes closed and their breathing deepened. At first, their toys were too interesting to notice their babysitter's state; but it didn't take long for Grimm to get bored enough to fly over and notice. "...Shade? Shade's eyes are closed." They landed and the four children not in a crib headed for the batlike godling.

"Is Shade dead?" Wyrm sounded worried.

"Don't be stupid, they're having a nap!" Radiance huffed.

Root looked up and swayed before patting Shade's leg. "Grown-ups don't have nap times." She was tearing up.

"Nuh-uh, they're having bad dreams and it's tasty!" Grimm clamored onto their lap.

The others joined, Radiance grabbing Unn to join them on the sleeping teen. Grimm rested between Shade's horns, Unn was on one shoulder, Radiance on the other, with Root and Wyrm curled up together on Shade's lap, Wyrm purring for once.

When Shade woke up, they were surprised by the weight on their body and forced themself to look down and around before moving. "Uh oh, I fell asleep… sheesh, I'm glad this place isn't a fiery disaster." They picked the godlings up. "You're not dead!" Wyrm exclaimed.

Root burst into tears and even Grimm joined in on the crying spat. Shade sighed and spent the rest of the time comforting them until meal time and settled them down. Time to go home for them all!

But the worry didn't leave the heads of the little godlings. "We should make something for Shade. If they're having nightmares, they might be sad." Radiance sighed. "But that doesn't mean I feel bad for my ancient enemy!" "What do we make?" Root twirled around, slowly turning in place until she fell onto pillows in her dizziness.

"Something of clay! I can burn it dry!" Grimm hopped around.

"But there's no clay." Unn spoke slowly, thoughtfully. "But there's crayons and paper."

"Oooh. We can make a pretty picture for Shade!" Wyrm waved his head happily. The group went for papers and each started to draw on the paper. "You're taking up too much paper!" Wyrm whined. Radiance complained in turn, pointing at the color he was using. "I want that color!"

Wyrm growled and argued back. "I had it first!"

They started rolling around over their drawings, biting and clawing. Grimm gave a solid scream that startled the two. "You ruined Shade's pretty pictures!" He yelled.

The two looked at each other and hung their heads. "...sorry." Radiance muttered. "-'m sorry." Wyrm looked away from the moth, skulking. "Start again? You can have the crayon, Radiance…"

Radiance took the crayon and they all picked up the last piece of paper. "I think this is better." Root spoke cheerfully.

It was three days later, once Shade had a solid night's sleep and finals completed that they'd returned to work. A large construction sheet of paper in grey covered in scribbles and rough names and messages was waiting for them.

Feel better soon Shade

Love you

Best babysitter

Tastiest nightmare!

Not the worst anciant ancient enemy.Shade could only feel warmth and laugh, hugging the drawing to themself. There were some days the job felt like the best thing in the world. ------------------------------- By @tomatotimes

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

By @loud-whistling-yes

"No."

The kids protested louder. Shade lifted the TV remote higher up, now above their head.

"Screentime's over, I said no."

Wyrm attempted to crawl up their leg in what was a rather pathetic attempt at stealing the remote, but was promptly shaken off. Grimm tried next, flying overhead to snatch the controller. Shade ducked and grabbed him by the tail before he could send himself flying straight towards the ceiling fan for the third time that day.

"Find something else to do," Shade said as they stuffed the remote deep into their pocket, much to everyone else's dismay. "Look, as much as I'd love to shut you guys up for the whole day, you've all been staring at the TV for hours now and I don't want to get in trouble with your parents."

Louder complaints.

"No, no, no. I am not cracking this time." Shade announced as they pulled Radi, who was hissing like an angry cat, off their jeans and pulled their phone out. "You guys got me last week, never again. No more TV for you, we're doing something else before I lose my money for tonight. Google almighty, what is your suggestion."

activities to do with children

fun activities to do with children

activities to do with toddlers

what can I do with kids that isn't a major headache to deal with goddamnit

Go to the park? Shade took about half a second to consider the thought before wondering why they even thought it was possible anyways. Five kids from the deepest depths of hell, outdoors? No. No park.

Finger painting? A pain to clean up, but better than outdoors. Then they looked up from their phone and considered the idea with greater thought. Grimm's wings, Radi's legs, Unn and Wyrm's… er…. Body?.... Nevermind.

Play pretend? …. If they hear the name Hallownest one more time they might just go insane.

Hide and seek? No. No no no no no. No more hide and seek. Shade was utterly sick of hide and seek. If they had to spend another second stuffed inside the closet or trying to get Radi off the roof they'll probably quit the job right there and then.

Baking?

… That might work. Sure, cleaning up is gonna be absolute hell but it's the only thing Google suggested that they haven't tried yet without horrible results.

Shade stuffed their phone back into their pocket and made a getaway to the kitchen, everyone else following, probably still trying to get the remote back. Butter, eggs, flour, sugar, oh, even some chocolate chips…

"Well then," They declared, pulling every ingredient out of the cabinet and fridge. "We're making cookies! And no, no one is allowed to touch the oven when it's hot. If you guys behave we'll have cookies in like, an hour or something like that."

The kids watched in confusion as Shade ran around the kitchen, pulling out bowls and spoons and a bunch of other utensils while typing furiously on their phone.

Cookies recipe

Cookies recipe easy

Cookies recipe for beginners

Cookies recipe for kids

"What do you guys think about chocolate chip cookies?"

Multiple chitters of approval. "Chocolate chip cookies it is then."

Step one: sieve the flour. Oh wyrm, first step and it's already gonna go to shit.

"Okay, you guys can watch this but for the love of the holy wyrm, do not touch it." Shade measured the correct amount of flour before scooping Wrym and Unn off the floor onto the table so they could see while Radi pulled herself onto the chair. The Lady had already clinged herself onto their sweater and Grimm was doing just fine flying nearby.

“You guys get one chocolate chip each if you guys behave and don’t get flour everywhere.” Shade added. “Now, Lady, hold still and don’t move, I gotta keep my hands steady for this…”

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

"Okay, chocolate chip time." Shade popped open the jar of chocolate as the kids cheered. "Actually, we’re not supposed to be eating this plain, cause it's going into the cookies. But no one actually does that so you guys get five chips each for not setting the kitchen on fire so far."

"The recipe says a cup of chocolate chips but we all know that's a lie." They added while shoving their phone back in their pocket and grabbing a handful of chips before mixing the batter together. "I'm probably not someone you should take life lessons from, but here's one thing I can guarantee you should take to heart: never follow the recipe when it comes to chocolate chips, you count that with your soul."

Final step: oven time. The oven was preheated earlier, and the only thing left was to get the cookies into the tray and into the oven. "Now, who wants to make heart-shaped cookies?"

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

Three deformed stars, five mutated trees, two malformed cats, several irregular hearts, a couple handfuls of chocolate eaten straight from the jar, and one (1) perfectly round cookie later, the cookies were on the tray, in the oven, and in a surprising turn of events, no one burned themselves… yet. Shade grabbed everyone and made sure no one was in a five-meter radius within the oven before picking up all the dirty bowls and utensils. “Cookies will have to sit in there for about 15 minutes, we’ll be cleaning up in the meantime.”

“Don’t look at me like that, and no whining, if you want cookies you gotta deal with the mess afterwards. That's the payoff, unless you're a wizard who has a passion for baking. Then that's fair, I guess." They dumped all the used utensils they could find and turned on the sink. The sief, three bowls, tablespoons and teaspoons.. Oh wait.

"Radi, the big wooden spoon, please?" Shade called, sponge in their hand and bowls being thoroughly rinsed.

Radi, of course, was not willing to help, because she's basically a feral house cat that just so happened to grow more legs than the average feline. Shade sighed and moved on to finding the next helper they could find.

"Grimm, I know you're touching the oven, stop it. I'm pretty sure you're immune to fire but not everyone else and you're setting a bad example for them. Get me the spoon please."

“Lady, here’s a cloth, help me dry the bowls up. Wyrm, … i have no idea how you can help, no limbs and all but uh, could you go get Unn? I have no idea where she went. Thanks.” The last sentence was to Grimm, who flew over with the mixing spoon and dropped it into the sink while Wyrm scurried away to find Unn, wherever she’s napping at.

"Radi? Radi, I know you're right behind me, stop pretending that you can't hear me. Lady has an extra cloth with her, you're on table wiping duty."

*********

“See? That wasn't so bad,” Shade sent the last of the bowls back into the cupboards and closed it shut. “And the cookies are pretty much done.”

“Also, no. You may not eat the cookies the moment I pull them out of the oven. These rules also apply to Grimm because it's unfair to everyone else.. Don’t look at me like that Grimm, I know you’ll eat them all before they cool and leave us nothing.”

The cookies smelt delicious, and were left on the dining table to cool. “Now that it's cooling down, it's naptime.”

A chorus of groans and wailing.

“It’ll be ready when you guys get up. Up up up, sleep time.”

**********

If you’ve been anywhere near toddlers before, you’d know that getting them to nap in their bedrooms is a near-impossible situation. And Shade was not a person who deals with near-impossible situations well. So following the months old custom, Shade turned on the tv, remote miraculously not pickpocketed, collapsed onto the couch, and waited for everyone piling on them to fall asleep before moving them into their bedroom and pretending they managed to wrangle them all into bed.

And it all goes to plan, the Lady and Wyrm were sound asleep on their lap, Radi and Unn were dozing off on their shoulders, and they're pretty sure the snoring from the top of their head was coming from Grmm. Now, step 2: get everyone off them and onto the beds.

… Or maybe later. It's been a long day, and the couch is pretty comfy. Yeah, just five more minutes, nothing wrong with that…

And if the parents came home to see a cleaner-than-expected kitchen, a tray of chocolate chip cookies, and five kids snoring on top of their babysitter, also sound asleep, then that’s nobody’s business.

And if the originally completely full jar of chocolate chips was pretty much empty, then that’s no one’s business as well.

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

By @astronomicartz

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

By @hollow-kin

Shade lord wanted to take a nap. They are sooo tired, but they are babysitting 5 baby gods for 5$/H. Grimm is a brat, Radiance his sister is also a brat. Unn was ether eating or seeping, same with grub1. Lady was, well sweet and cuddly. they needed to find a distraction for the kids, what would work?

Would tv work, would cartoons work? They had dinner already. Tv had to work or grub and radiance would destroy the house. They needed to take a nap. Now what to watch was a different question, they would have to ask the kids. “so, what do guys want to watch? “Movie!” well they were all in agreement, what was good. “What kind of movie do you guys want to watch?” “Fire!” “dath” “animal” “tree” “ok. No, we are NOT watching fire.” “awww” “i do not know what dath means so no. So nature show it is then.” they go over to the tv and turn it on, then select the world around us. Lady was quick to fall asleep, on their lap. Shade lord slowly fell asleep, and grub nested between grub and shade lord. Grimm climed up to shade lord's head.

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

By @hawaiianbabidoll

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

By @neoliberalsatan

A gentle darkness surrounded the shade lord. He finally felt at ease. "finally", he thought, "rest." it didn't take long after that before the darkness started to take shape and a whole new world created out of shadows sheathed him.

But the happiness of the shadows didn't last long. A new and a new sound drowned out their world and all the animals and plants took to hiding back in his head. The shade lord felt the distressed creations stir inside his mind and woke up to the sound of his phone ringing. He rubbed his lowest eyes and accepted the call

"Hello, with shade lord. How can i help you?" "Oh sorry dear, i know it's terribly late but we got an unexpected call and need to leave. Since you've babysat Unn multiple times we assumed she would like to stay with you. Is it okay for you? Can we bring her to your place?" The shade lord thought for a moment and decided he could use the money. "Yea it's fine, she's always such a pleasure to babysit." The voice on the other side sounded relieved. "Thank you. You're a life saver. We will make sure you're compensated accordingly."

Feeling a bit more awake after the phone call he started to prepare for having baby Unn over. After a while her parents arrived and after some greetings he was home alone with the baby. He walked with her in his arms towards the living room and placed her gently inside the crib. She opened her eyes for a moment after losing the feeling of someone holding her, but then closed them again and fell back asleep.

The shade lord decided he couldn't sleep anymore and made some popcorn and decided to put on a movie. It didn't even take 20 minutes before he got called again.

"Hello, with shade lord. How can i help you?" "Oh yes finally someone who answers. Sorry but you're our last hope. We were going somewhere tonight but our babysitter called off. Do you think you could babysit our lovely Radiance? She's very good behaved and won't cause you trouble." "yea, no problem. You'll just need to bring her to my place if it's no trouble"

Not even 5 minutes later the parents showed up and dropped of their larva. Shade lord looked at it a bit confused but didn't get the time to say anything because the parents left as soon as they handed her over. He closed his front door and gave the larva a good look. She was white and had a fluffy appearance. She had 5 pairs of legs and yellow-orange eyes. She started to writhe a little bit and shade lord made sure to hurry to the living room. He took a pillow and placed it on the couch and softly laid her on it. She seemed at ease and rested on the pillow all stretched out

Shade lord continued his movie, which was finally starting to get interesting, but as usual the commercial break hit. He was in the kitchen making more popcorn when he got another call.

"Hello, with shade lord. How can i help you?" "Hello, is this the babysitter?" "Yes, that's the one you're speaking with." "Great, a family member had an accident and i need to be there for them so do you think you could babysit for me?" "Yep, totally." "Thank you, can we bring him to you?" "Oh yea, no problem."

A few minutes later his doorbell rang and he hurried towards it. The father carried his toddler in what could only be described as wing-esque appendages. The shade lord extended his arms for the man to put his toddler in and felt a gentle brush of the leathery membrane. He shivered lightly before feeling a sudden warmth light up in his face, like someone has started a fire. When he looked back up the man was gone and he closed the door. The creature he was holding in his arms was unlike anything he had ever seen. 2 horns sprouted from its black head. The face was as bleak as white linen on a summer day. It seems she likes make-up because she had already 2 black lines running from her cheeks towards her eyes, eventually fading into the darkness of her head. She had the same membranes as her father and no limbs besides it.

He wasn’t even in the living room before he heard his front door being was under siege. He put the weird creature down and opened the front door. Immediately he was assaulted by Hollow, a very energetic child. He was wearing a green cloak today and it finally seemed he was starting to grow bigger than a hand. His horns has also branched into the inside. Immediately after Hollow jumped on his he could hear Pale complain about his unprofessional work attitude. Although he was bigger than most it seems he wouldn’t grow much anymore. His tiny stature didn’t discourage him from being bossy. Finally White entered. By far the biggest of the bunch, she was also the most introverted. Her roots slid elegantly over towards him and even managed to stop Pale from talking for a moment.

He took them inside the living room only to find that somehow the larva and the winged creature had somehow gotten into a fight and now both were in hiding in opposite sides of the room. Normally he wouldn’t make such a big deal out of this if somehow his couch wasn’t full of tiny needles and a chair was on fire. He rushed to the tap to fill a bowl of water to extinguish the little fire. With the attention being diverted Hollow managed to slip from the watch of Pale and could now be found in the corner Radiance was hiding. The larva figured out quickly he liked to play games and had soon enough set up a plan to make him betray Pale.

In the meantime White had climbed the couch and started pulling out the needles while Shade lord had figured out what the membrane between the appendages from the weird creature were for. Namely, for flight. And now she was attacking his horns and he couldn’t reach her. As if her flying was not good enough alone, whenever he raised his arms she would back off and launch a little fireball All this commotion woke up baby Unn who slowly started to slither away from her crib to find food.

The shade lord finally had enough of the little fire hazard and rushed towards the pantry to get a kettle. Once he had found it he peeked around the corner only to find that fire hazard eating his popcorn! All caution was thrown aside and he grabbed her by the guts and put her inside the kettle. She tried to heat it but he added some water to it. While it evaporated quickly it was apparently enough to bring over the message. Now he could focus his attention back on the larva again, only she could’ve produced those needles, which White was making great progress with removing them as a quick glance told him.

Now back to Pale and Radiance who were apparently having a fight (Darkness, that larva really has a talent to provoke others). They were arguing near the coffee table, because apparently they wanted a fight so bad they just ran to each other and met in the middle. Hollow was climbing one of the legs of the table, but wasn’t noticed by the shade lord because he was too occupied with the other 2. He tried to separate the arguing pair but they were at each other’s throats. They even had summoned a needle and a tiny dagger to fight each other. The shade lord obviously didn’t count on this tiny factor and had soon enough one in each hand. He screamed, trying not to curse, barely not failing miserably, and Pale managed to escape. In any other situation this wouldn’t pose a problem, but Hollow, after eating some popcorn, found himself at the right edge of the coffee table and pulled out his tiny wooden sword he got from Pale. The larva, Darkness curse her, used this to her advantage and made the sign to Hollow to betray Pale. The act of betraying Pale involved jumping off of the coffee table and hitting Pale as hard on the head as possible. Naturally, all of this went according to plan and even brought some extra spectacle. After Hollow had hit Pale on the head he wasn’t prepared for the recoil of the wood and ended up hitting himself in the face.

All of this lead to 3 crying children (1 of them from laughing, the others from pain) and 1 very angry young adult. He put the larva on the couch and took care of the others while White held a close eye on the damned 10 legged thing. After Pale and Hollow weren’t crying anymore he took the little fire hazard out of the kettle and continued his movie, which was getting to an end.

After the film ended a documentary started and had all the kids hooked. He went to check on Unn only to find an empty crib. He could however see a slimy trail lead up his wall and onto the ceiling. It went through the door into the pantry where he kept his food and toys for the toddlers. He looked up on the ceiling only to find a sleepy Unn with a letter block in her mouth. Suddenly Unn started to make a very weird noise and fell from the ceiling onto his face. He swiped her off of his face onto his shoulder and then washed it.

He returned back to the tv to watch the documentary that was still playing and plopped down on the couch. Not long after he was asleep with White on his left shoulder, Unn on his right shoulder, the little fire hazard on the same arm and Pale curled up in his lap. Radiance and hollow were still awake but occupied with the documentary instead of causing trouble. After the documentary ended they crawled up against his sides and fell asleep.

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

By @constantlost

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

By @bugbeee

Exhaustion seeped into Shadelord’s body, limbs weighed down by a heaviness they hadn’t experienced in a while. The smatter of godlings that lay around them on the couch, or on them in Radi’s case, was enough to convince them that they had died and that this was the Eternal Void that was created to punish them for cheating on that test in the 8th grade. In their defence, it had been on rock sedimentation.

Wyrm continued his grumbling from the corner of the couch, still infuriated by the attack on his person only moments before. Root, the aggressor, looked remarkably pleased with herself. Shade knew they should probably punish her further in some way but... well, to be perfectly honest, they simply were not paid enough to do so.

They really should have charged more. Fifteen dollars at least per tiny demon they had to look after rather than the whole bunch. Fifteen dollars was not enough to encourage discipline. It was enough for them to make sure none of the godlings killed the other. And they had thought they had come up with an ingenious plan to secure some peace and quiet.

After much wrangling, they had finally managed to set up two separate playpens, each far enough away that the godlings wouldn’t start screaming if one of them saw their rival. Wyrm and Root in one pen, Grimm, Radi and Unn in another. It was a gamble, but one that thankfully seemed to have paid off. Radi was still exhausted from the tussle she had just had with Wyrm, and Grimm seemed content to chew off the heads of the plastic Garbies they had found. Unn continued to watch, and occasionally helped Grimm execute a Garbie in a spectacular manner. It was both reassuring, and beyond disturbing. Root and Wyrm meanwhile were cheerfully ignoring each other as they both played with their own toys.

It should have been foolproof.

Unfortunately for Shade however, they were dealing with infants instead of fools.

For some damned reason, Root had decided that now was the perfect time to act up, instead of being the sweet little darling she had been so far. Her target, much to their dismay, had been Wyrm. In all fairness, the godling had probably deserved it in some way; most likely he had tried to worm too close in order to steal some of the grubpaste and mushroom sticks Shade had left out as a snack. Root had seen this theft as a cardinal sin, and had subsequently decided that Wyrm deserved nothing less than absolute annihilation.

The momentary doze Shade had managed to fall into was abruptly interrupted by loud shrieking and wailing, resulting in them vaulting over the couch to hurriedly find out which one of the godlings was being tortured.

The scene that greeted them was... well, it wasn’t any less ridiculous than some of the other stuff the little goblins had pulled before.

Using her flexible tendrils, Root had seen fit to wrap them around Wyrm, and aggressively dunk him into the bowl of grubpaste he had attempted to steal from. His shrieks and hisses had woken up Radi and drawn the attention of the other children, who were now cheering on Root’s attack on Wyrm’s person.

“Enough,” Shade declared, shooting a glare behind them, “Root, let him go.” Root looked up innocently.

No, she seemed to say with her eyes, justice must prevail.

“Justice won’t get me my fifteen dollars,” they hissed out in return, and they could have sworn that Root shrugged, turning away from them to dunk Wyrm into the bowl yet again.

“No!” they cried out, quickly whipping down to grab the poor child before he could be further humiliated. After finally being saved from his vicious tormentor, Wyrm decided it was time to go into hysterics, lashing out with a sharp tail to fully show his displeasure. Root simply watched impassively as the rest of the children cheered.

Shade wondered if fifteen dollars was even worth it at this point.

“Alright, alright, enough! Root, you go in time out. We do not waterboard our fellow godlings in grubpaste. Wyrm, calm down, it’s just grubpaste- Settle down!” they yelped out, flinching as something heavy settled onto their head. The soft fluff revealed that Radi had decided to fly out of her pen and taunt Wyrm in person. Shade wanted to sob with frustration.

The door cracked open, and Ghost peered in, head tilted curiously.

Need help? they signed, and Shade wanted to collapse in relief.

“Please,” they begged, and their sibling nodded grimly, even as amusement danced in their eyes. Shucking off their school backpack, they quickly headed over to the other pen and signed to them, bobbing their head up and down in a soothing motion. Grimm and Unn were entranced. Radi less so. She remained seated on their head, but at least seemed to have finally stopped provoking Wyrm.

“I’m just going to clean him up,” Shade explained uselessly, watching as Ghost simply nodded and waved them off.

With a tired gait, Shade wandered into the kitchen and turned on the tap, listening as Wyrm’s panicked yelps grew louder at the realisation of what was going to happen next. Radi snickered softly, before leaping off and gliding back into the living room.

Bath time, according to the godlings, was a fate worse than death, and something to be avoided at all cost.

Unfortunately for both Wyrm and Shade, it was a necessary evil. Wyrm disagreed. Loudly. And with claws.

He howled furiously as Shade slowly lowered him into the warm water, softly scrubbing at the now-dried grubpaste sticking to his skin. Despite his attempts, Wyrm failed to prevent them from continuing his bath. He turned to pathetic pleading instead, making soft mewling sounds as though he was nothing more than a poor innocent child who had done nothing wrong, ever.

Shade, who remembered the little bastard knocking a glass ornament onto their head, was not convinced. Ultimately there was no escape, and Wyrm reluctantly gave in to the soft scrubbing, though he made sure his rumbling complaints were known.

“Yes, yes,” Shade said quietly, “I truly am the worst. Close your eyes so I can rinse you.”

Wyrm, in a dumb act of defiance, did not close his eyes. The hysterics started again, and Shade contemplated drowning themself in the half-filled sink. Fifteen dollars, they repeated. Fifteen dollars.

Grabbing a tea towel, they quickly dried the godling off, carefully teasing out water droplets from soft scales. He child gnawed on their fingers in revenge. “I’m done,” they announced, wandering back into the living room with a now clean, and furious, Wyrm.

Ghost looked up from their position on the floor, back leaning against the couch as they played with Grimm. Radi immediately perked up at the sound of Shade’s voice, and quickly flew over, making herself at home on top of their head. Unn seemed to have decided to undertake the momentous task of scaling up the back of the couch, leaving a thick trail of slime behind. Root, still stuck in her pen as punishment, let out a wail, demanding to be let out.

Shade was all out of energy to fight back or deal with a tantrum.

“Alright, alright, out you go,” they muttered, depositing Wyrm on the couch before reaching down to lift out the petulant child from her terrible prison. She clung to them desperately until they finally collapsed on the sofa. She quickly wriggled out of their hold and instead plonked down beside them. Wyrm had hissed at the sight of her, and slunk to the other side of the couch to sulk.

Grimm let out a raspy cackle at the sight, before diving down to nip at Ghost’s fingers.

Unn finally made her way to the top of the couch and waved her eyestalks victoriously. All Shade could do was give her a tired pat.

They sank into the couch, the exhaustion creeping back in. It should have been foolproof.

Fifteen dollars.

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

By @arandoskeleartist

youtube

#telephoneknight #hollowknight #hollow knight #BabysitterSL #shade lord #pale king #radiance #nightmare king grimm #unn #white lady

162 notes · View notes

hangovercurse · 4 years ago

Text

Once a Month

Colson doesn’t understand why you’re acting so strange, so you have to explain that your monthly visitor has arrived.

Request: “Hi, I love your writing! If you want to write something like that, I have a suggestion: Not to be mean but I think Colson can be really dumb/ignorant about stuff that doesn’t concern him. Idk maybe hes in a relationship with the reader and doesn’t understand stuff that comes with being a women, either period stuff or body hair stuff idk? And he hurts her with commenting about it without noticing? And please fluff in the end where he gets educated”

Colson x Reader

Warnings: Cursing, fighting, talking about periods, a single sexual reference

A/N: I don’t know how this got so long...

Word Count: 2945

Having a vagina really fucking sucks sometimes. Specifically, for one week a month, when your body decided it needed to bleed out of said vagina for a whole week. No period was easy, and yours was no exception. But getting your period while living in a house with a bunch of guys, who all had dicks, was a nightmare. It seemed like no one knew what you were going through physically and emotionally. You had been on Depo-Provera since you met Colson, so you had never been on your period around him. But your doctor decided to take you off of it because your bone mineral content was getting too low. So here you were, 6 months later, and getting your first period post- birth control.

You had a more hormonal period, meaning you were constantly jumping from one mood to another. Today was your third day, and you wanted to rip your uterus out. You were sitting on the couch, curled up next to Colson as a movie played on the TV. Your cramps were killing you, so you weren’t really paying attention to anything that was happening.

You heard someone say something about a club, and you assumed they were suggesting going to a club, even though they went last night, and the night before, and the night before. And normally you would be down for clubbing with your boyfriend and your friends, but today the stabbing pain in your abdomen told you “no,” just as it had for the past few days.

All the guys had agreed, their eyes landing on you and waiting for a response. “Uh, I’m not really feeling it tonight, guys.”

Colson rolled his eyes, “you haven’t been feeling it all week.” He complained and you frowned.

“I just don’t want to go tonight.” You mumbled, a little angry that he would start an argument in front of all the guys.

“Why do you have to be such a buzzkill?” He complained, the arm that was previously wrapped around you pulled away. “You’ve been in a shitty mood all week, it’s fucking annoying.”

You bit your lip, feeling tears biting at your eyes. You weren’t sure if you were upset or angry, or both. But you knew it wouldn’t be pretty to keep this conversation going. “Whatever, have fun.” You scoffed, the anger taking over. You rolled your eyes and stood up, walking to yours and Colson’s shared bedroom. You made it just past the doorway when the tears started rolling down your face.

You closed the door behind you and shut the light off before trying to muffle your cries with the sleeve of Colson’s shirt that you were wearing. You laid down on the bed, facing away from the door in an almost fetal position. The tears didn’t stop, and all you could focus on was Colson’s anger towards you. Why couldn’t you just be a good girlfriend and go with him? Why did you have to be a buzzkill?

You heard the garage open and shut, signaling that the group had left for the club. He’s probably going to find a girl to hook up with tonight. Your brain told you, making you cry even harder.

And then you felt guilty for thinking that. Wow, you really think so low of Colson that you think he’d cheat on you. You really are the world’s worst girlfriend.

Every thought spiraled into another, until you decided to watch TV to distract yourself. It worked pretty well, your period head being happy from the dopamine you got while watching The Good Place. But, like all good things, your happy mood came to an end when you heard the garage door open hours later.

You looked at your phone, realizing it was already 3am. You had hoped to be asleep when Colson got home, but you hadn’t managed to drift off to sleep, probably because you’d taken a nap at 2pm earlier. You sighed, preparing for the mess that was about to come through the door.

And like you had summoned him; Colson came stumbling through the door of your bedroom. “Why are you still awake?” He grumbled, stripping his shirt off.

You shrugged, pausing Chidi’s rant about the ethics of truth. “Couldn’t sleep.” Colson sat on the edge of his side of the bed, tattooed back facing you, typing on his phone. The smell of alcohol and weed coming from him made you feel queasy. “You should take a shower.”

Colson stood back up, throwing his phone on the nightstand, and taking off his jeans. “I’ll take one in the morning.” You shut the TV off, laying down fully in the bed to face your boyfriend. He pulled the comforter back, climbing into the bed beside you and pulling you into his arms.

You pushed him away, the smell even worse now. Colson tsked at you, glaring at you as you scrunched your nose up in disgust. “What the fuck is your problem?” You rolled onto your side, your back facing him. “Is this because I called you a buzzkill earlier? It’s not that serious.” He rolled his eyes, even though you couldn’t see him, and flipped onto his back.

“It’s not but thanks for bringing it up.” You mumbled, still turned away from him. Your mind wandered back to the conversation earlier in the evening, and you got upset about it all over again.

Colson sighed, his hands moving to rub his face. “Then please, tell me what I did this time.” He sat up, flicking on the lamp beside him to light up the room. You groaned, burying your head into your pillow.

“You just smell.” You mumbled into the fabric.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” He mumbled to himself, but you still heard it, “You’re mad at me because I smell?”

You let out an annoyed sigh, “I’m not mad at you, I just can’t stand the smell of you right now. It’s making me sick.” You could feel his temper rising even though you couldn’t see him. The feeling made you want to cry.

“Seriously, Y/N? What the fuck is up with you lately? You’ve been acting like a bitch all week.” Now that did make you cry. You sat up, grabbing your pillow and your phone and standing up, walking towards the door. “Where are you going?” Colson asked, more annoyed then concerned.

Colson couldn’t see your face, but he could hear your sniffle as you opened the closet and pulled down an extra blanket. “I’m sleeping on the couch.” You continued your trek to the door, pausing as your hand touched the handle, “Sorry for being such a shitty girlfriend.” You muttered, opening the door and leaving the room.

You threw the pillow onto the couch, laying down and pulling the blanket over you. Your hand came up to your mouth as you muffled your sobs again, hoping no one else in the house could hear you. Colson sat in his bed, staring at the door that you just left through with a confused expression. You’d gotten into worse fights before and you hadn’t cried then, what was so different now?

He threw his head back onto the bed, a frustrated groan leaving his mouth. He was in no state to convince you back to bed, and he knew you wouldn’t listen to him anyways, so he turned the lamp off and tried to go to sleep.

You woke up at 7 the next morning due to your cramps feeling like someone was stabbing you from inside your body. You knew you wouldn’t go back to sleep, and the pain was intense, but the only anti-inflammatory medication in the house was in yours and Colson’s bathroom, which meant you would have to go through the room to get it. And you were very determined to not go in there, assuming he was probably still mad at you. You didn’t think you could handle him yelling at you again.

But after an hour and a half of trying to distract yourself with your phone, you felt like you were gonna throw up if you didn’t take any meds. So, you dragged yourself off the couch, walking into the kitchen to grab a piece of bread (don’t take anti-inflammatories on an empty stomach y’all) and shoving it in your mouth. It wasn’t the best thing in the world to eat at 8:30 in the morning, but it would be enough to prevent the Aspirin from fucking up your stomach.

You shuffled to your room, hesitantly reaching for the door handle. You knew Colson would be asleep, but you were still shaking with anxiety. Taking a deep breath, you slowly opened the door, relaxing a bit when you saw your boyfriend sleeping. You stepped lightly, trying to be as quiet as possible as you crossed the room to the bathroom.

Once in the tiled room you shuffled through the drawers, trying to find the bottle that would magically relieve your pain. You frowned as you pulled open the fourth drawer, still not finding the bottle. You were sure you had a bottle in here somewhere.

“Babe?” Shit. Colson’s morning voice called from the bed. You peaked your head out of the bathroom, his eyes finding yours.

“Sorry, I’m just looking for the Aspirin.” You said quietly, moving back into the bathroom to continue your search.

“It’s in here.” Of course it’s in there, why wouldn’t it be in there?

You trudged out of the bathroom, finding the bottle in his hands. You flashed him a small smile, grabbing the bottle from his hands. Any thoughts of last night momentarily left your mind as you poured two tablets into your hand. “Everything okay?” Colson sat up, watching as you moved towards your side of the bed.

“Yeah.” You said, walking to your nightstand to grab the water that you keep there. You swallowed the pills, looking at Colson’s concerned face. “I’m fine, just cramps.”

Looking at his face made your heart fall. Even when you two were fighting he was worried about you. “Can we talk about last night?” You asked, realizing you needed to address your argument. Colson nodded, reaching to pull you onto the bed. You loved morning Colson; he was very cuddly.

You happily moved into his arms, your chest pressed against his back, his arms around your middle, and head resting against yours. “I’m sorry I got so upset.” You mumbled. “My hormones are making me an emotional wreck. I forgot how bad they could get.”

“What do you mean?” He asked, looking down at you. There was concern in his eyes, but a lot of confusion.

You tilted your head, realizing he hadn’t pieced things together. “You know, my period hormones.” He furrowed his eyebrows and you laughed softly. “Oh my god have you never experienced this with a girl?”

He frowned, “No. I thought your birth control stopped your periods?”

“Yeah, but remember I had to stop taking it a few months ago? It’s finally fully out of my system.”

He nodded, “Wait so what does your period have to do with hormones?”

You tilted your head back so your crown fell against his chest as you tried not to laugh. “You know how people always ask a girl if she’s on her period when she gets really mad or upset?” Colson nodded, his eyes trained on you, listening attentively. “Well, its because when you get your period, for the last few days leading up to it and the first few days you’re on it, certain hormone levels are low. So, you’re really sensitive emotionally. The levels raise throughout your cycle, so you get less irritable after the first few days, but its still not necessarily fun.”

“So, when I complained about you not wanting to go out…”

“I got really upset. I mean I would’ve gotten upset either way, but I probably would’ve brushed it off normally.” You laced your fingers through his. “And the reason I didn’t want to go out was because I could barely stand up, much less go out and party.”

“Wait actually?” He seemed genuinely concerned.

You chuckled a little at his childlike wonder of your period. “Yeah, even if I take medicine my cramps kill me. And I’m either really tired or really awake most of the time.”

“Where are your cramps?” He asked, and you moved his hands towards your lower stomach. “Here?” You nodded, and he started massaging the area softly, easing some of the pain. “Is that helpful or does it make it worse?” He asked.

You hummed, “very helpful.” He continued his motions and you kept explaining. “Heat also helps. I used to have a hot water bottle but I got rid of it since I wasn’t getting my periods anymore. And I haven’t felt good enough to go to the store and get another.”

He kissed the skin behind your ear, resting his head there. “You should’ve told me, babe. I would’ve gotten you one.” You shrugged, smiling at his worry. “I wouldn’t’ve been such a dick, too.” He mumbled.

You turned your body to face him, wrapping your hands around his neck, “you didn’t know, babe. It’s okay. But maybe you shouldn’t be a dick even when I’m not on my period.” You gave him a wide, sarcastic smile.

“I know, I’m sorry.” He whispered, a frown on his face. You leaned up and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. “Is there anything else I should know about your period?”

“I get really bad cravings, like chocolate, candy, salty food, literally anything. And it’s always random.”

He pecked your lips, “Tell me what you want and I’ll get it for you.” You smiled, closing your eyes, and resting your forehead against his.

“Oh, and we can’t have sex.” He pulled away from you, a confused look on his face. “Babe, I’m bleeding out of my vagina. It would be really really gross.”

“But that doesn’t mean we can’t do other things, right?” He tilted his head, smirking.

“Don’t ask me to blow you while I’m on my period. If I want to, I’ll tell you.” You giggled. “Seriously, this shit sucks.”

“You’re telling me.” He chuckled and you slapped his chest lightly. “I’m kidding.” He pulled you closer to him so your head was pressed against his chest. You could hear his heartbeat and it made you smile. “Whatever you need, just tell me and I’ll do it.” He mumbled; lips pressed against your hair.

You looked up at him, pressing a kiss to his jaw. “You could take a shower?” You asked sweetly.

He laughed, “was that a period thing too?”

You nodded, “yeah I get sick really easily. I can’t go in a car unless I’m driving because I get too nauseous. Some smells can set me off too.”

He nodded, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head. “Hey, just promise me one thing?” You looked up at him, urging him to continue. “Next time something’s wrong, tell me, please? I know you’re my soulmate and everything but I can’t read your mind.”

Your eyes widened when he said that, cheeks turning red. “You really think that?” You asked in awe.

“Of course I think that. You’re literally my perfect half. You get along with all my friends, you take care of Casie like she’s your own kid, you put up with all of my shit. I dunno, I just feel like we were made for each other.” You leaned up, pulling him in for a long, sweet kiss.

“I am so in love with you.” You whisper as you pulled away. “Like so so so in love with you.” You smiled.

He kissed you again, a smile on his face. “Oh, one more thing.” He said, and you hummed in response. “Next time we have a fight, don’t walk out on me, please? I don’t want us to go to sleep mad at each other.”

You nodded, moving your arms to take his hands in yours. “I won’t. I promise.” You whispered. “Can you promise me something?” You looked up at him, his eyes entrancing yours. “If we are fighting, can we not do it in front of our friends?”

He nodded, kissing you once more. “Promise.”

“Do you have plans today?” You asked.

“I don’t think so.”

“Can we stay in bed and cuddle all day?” You gave him your best puppy dog eyes and he broke out into a smile.

He nodded, “We can do whatever you want to do, sweetheart.” You smiled, practically tackling him back onto the bed so you were laying down, you clinging to him like a Koala bear. “I’ll send Irv and Baze to the store in a while for you.”

You rolled your eyes, smiling into his neck. “I would complain that you should do it yourself, but that would require you leaving me, and that’s not happening anytime soon.” Colson opened his mouth to say something, but you cut him off, “except for you taking a shower. I have not forgotten.”

“Damn.”

You giggled, sticking to his chest as he sat up, trying to get out of bed. “You say you want me to shower but you’re making it impossible to get out of bed.”

“You have to be nice to me, I’m on my period.” You smiled up at him.

He shook his head, chuckling. “Fine, I guess I’ll just bring you into the shower with me.”

“I’m not complaining. But I’m just warning you I’m bloated as hell right now.”

“And yet you’re still the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen.”

#machine gun kelly #machine gun kelly imagine #mgk #mgk imagine #mgk angst #mgk fluff #Colson baker #colson x reader #colson baker imagine #colson baker fluff #colson baker angst

257 notes · View notes

toh-writings · 3 years ago

Text

Fortunes of Love Pt 1 (Eda x OC)

Summary:

When King needs his most loyal soldier fixed, Eda decides to take them to an old acquaintance of hers to get it patched. What starts as a visit turns into another visit, then another, then another. Eda begins to wonder why they were never friends before.

Warnings: None

It was a surprisingly quiet afternoon. Luz was still at school, Hooty was taking a nap, and King was off somewhere playing. And Eda had every intention of taking advantage of the break in the chaos. She slumped onto the couch with a sigh, a steaming mug of tea in her hands. She took a sip of her drink, closing her eyes and relaxing, a lazy smile on her face. This was the stuff.

Eda’s peace was shattered when a screech rang out through the house. She sighed, putting her mug down on the coffee table. Looks like her tea would go cold. She crossed her arms, scowling at King as he dashed into the room, but her face softened when she saw him. He looked like he was on the verge of tears, his little stuffed rabbit clutched tightly in his arms.

“Eda!” he screeched, running into her legs and toppling over. He was quick to get back to his feet.

“I’m right here, King, you don’t need to screech.”

“Eda, Eda, The worst thing ever has happened!” He continued to screech, not bothering to lower his voice a bit. “Francoise’s been injured!”

He shoved the rabbit in her face, showing the arm hanging on by a thread, the stuffing spilling out.

“He needs immediate attention or I fear he’ll lose his life!” The little demon insisted, looking quite devastated at the turn of events. Eda sighed, a soft smile on her face.

“Alright, alright, let me see.”

She gently took the rabbit from him and took a closer look. The thread attaching the arm to the body was in pieces, bits poking out of the worn fabric. It had probably just gotten too old, played with too much, something like that. She wasn’t the best at sewing, but it looked easy enough to fix.

“Guess I can fix it. Just let me get some things.”

She handed the rabbit back to King and gave him a little pat on his head. She had a bunch of junk in the closet to look through.

It was tougher than she thought it would be just to find a needle and thread. Luz had returned from school before she had even found anything.

“Eda? What are you doing?”

The witch huffed from her pile of stuff, the shelves of the closet empty. She grumbled, wading through her pile and standing by Luz.

“Looking for a needle and thread. King broke his doll.” She said dismissively, idly drawing a circle in the air. All the junk on the floor jumped to attention and flew back to their spots. “Clearly, I didn’t find anything.”

“Awww, that’s why King looks so depressed.”

They looked back to the couch where King sat, still clutching his broken rabbit with big crocodile tears in his eyes. He sniffed.

“Yeah. We need to fix that thing.”

Eda went quiet as she thought, pacing the living room. Okay, maybe she couldn’t fix the damn thing herself. That meant she would have to find someone else to do it. She went through all the people she knew in her mind. Half of them hated her, so it was easy to cut the list down. None of the first people she thought of actually knew anything about sewing or stuffed animals. She had to dig deep before she remembered someone who might be able to help. It was a long shot, but they had to try.

“Alright you two, I have an idea.”

She turned to them with her signature cocky smile.

“We’re going to the market.”

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

The Market was busy this time of day, the witchlings who just got out of school running around through the crowd. Eda hated being at the market when it was like this, but desperate times they say. The market was large and there were many stalls, but only one of them was the one they needed. She wished she remembered where it was better. She had never actually been there before, she just passed it every once in a while. After several wrong turns and irritated mumbles, she finally spotted the familiar stall.

“Ah, here we are! Told ya I’d find it.”

She crossed her arms, a prideful smile on her face, but Luz and King looked doubtful.

“It looks like a … fortune-teller?” Luz said, cocking her head to one side.

And so it did. The dark blue stall was decorated with white glittering stars and a crystal ball sat on the counter alongside various other tools. A group of teenagers were clustered around it, giggling and squealing at each other.

“How is some palm reading supposed to help Francoise?” King shouted, looking irritated.

“Just come on, ya little demon. Trust me.”

King continued to grumble his doubts as the approached the stall. The group of teenagers dispersed as they approached, talking amongst each other and staring at their hands in wonder. As they left they could see the witch waving goodbye. She looked friendly enough, her black curls tied back and what looked like a snake hanging on her shoulders. She smiled at them as they approached, though she looked a bit hesitant when she saw Eda.

“Hello! How can I help you?” Her voice was small and quiet.

“There you are! What was it again? Nila or something?” Eda’s voice boomed in contrast to the other witch. She leaned against the counter, a hand on her hip.

“Niliana.”

Eda gave a dismissive wave.

“Whatever, close enough. Listen, Nily, we have a bit of a problem here and need your help.”

She nodded to King. He still looked doubtful, but jumped on the counter and showed the witch his rabbit. She focused on it instantly, brows furrowed as she inspected the damage, humming thoughtfully.

“You want me to fix it?”

Eda nodded.

“It’s desperate! We must heal Francoie immediately!” King shouted, waving his arms around. “I don’t want to lose my best buddy!”

The woman smiled at him, giving his head a few pats.

“He’ll be fine. I can fix him. Come on then, my supplies are in the back.”

She left her stall, leading them into a tent behind it. Luz gazed around it in wonder. It was dark, little balls of light floating around the ceiling giving all the light they needed to see. There shelves upon shelves of stuff surrounding them, crystal balls, crystals, various jars of herbs, and other mysterious substances. Even more dried herbs were hanging from the ceiling alongside various fabrics. In the middle of the room were several comfy looking chairs and a love seat surrounding a round coffee table with a few unlit candles.

“Take a seat, I’ll get working on this.” Niliana told them in her soft voice, motioning to the chairs. Luz hopped into a chair, giggling as she bounced slightly. Eda sat with a sigh, sprawling out over the love seat, but King couldn’t sit. He followed the witch, right on her heals as she walked to what looked like a work table. The shelf above it was lined with various stuffed animals in various rates of decay and mismanagement. King crawled onto the table, watching anxiously as she got to work. The snake on her shoulders slithered away due to some unspoken command, curling around a nearby staff and turning to wood.

“This is a nice place ya got here!” Luz said, still staring around in wonder. “I haven’t meant anyone who was really good at oracle magic before! Can you tell the future? How? What’s your favorite way to do it? What’s all the herbs and crystals for? How…?”

“Slow down, kid!” Eda said, laughing. “Not everyone can talk as fast as you.”

“Oh, right sorry.” Luz said, looking a bit sheepish and shrugging.

“No, dear, I can’t tell the future. Not exactly. Oracle magic is actually quite complicated. It’s more like I see pieces what could happen. I do it by connecting to others magic. I like reading tea leaves the most. The herbs are for the tea. The crystals can be used to focus someones magic so I can read it and use it to tell the future.”

She answered easily, not missing a beat as she worked. The rabbit was empty of all stuffing now, the broken thread removed and the arm sitting next to it. She got herself a bucket and filled it with water, adding an herb here and an herb there. Once the concoction was completed she put the pieces of the rabbit in to soak.

King stared into the bucket, then looked up at her, confused.

“What are you doing?” He asked, the nervousness creeping into his voice. She smiled at him again.

“He’s just taking a bath is all. It’ll make his fur soft and stronger.”

King nodded, keeping a close eye on the bucket.

“What do you mean you see pieces? What does that mean? And what does tea have to do with telling the future?”

Niliana sighed.

“Why don’t I just … show you? Would that appease you?”

Luz’s eyes went wide and she nodded, almost bouncing with excitement. So, she started putting together a pot of tea, heating the water with a magical floating fire. With nothing left to do but wait, she finally sat with a sigh, grabbing a deck of cards to fiddle with.

Luz never stopped talking, but once the witch had settled the girl went oddly silent. Niliana looked over to her to find the girl watching her with intent, curious eyes.

“Sooooo…” She started, a smirk on her face. “How do you and Eda know each otherrrrrrr.”

“We went to school together,” Eda spoke up before Niliana could, but she didn’t seem to mind. She just nodded.

“We were both in the potions track, at least for a short time.”

“Ugh, those classes were so booooring.” Eda groaned, slouching even further in the love seat at the very memory of them. “It was nothing but stirring and stirring. I don’t know how you managed it.”

“Clearly, I didn’t.” She said, twirling a card between her fingers. “I transferred to the oracle track shortly after you left.”

Eda snorted.

“I’m amazed anyone's making potions these days with a class like that.”

Niliana shrugged.

“I didn’t think it was all that bad. The monotony was calming, especially when I was having a bad day.”

Eda waved her hand aimlessly, clearly unimpressed.

“Awww, you guys were friends?” Luz asked, but Eda shook her head, confusing the girl.

“Not really. We were more like … Aquaintances. We knew of each other, but we didn’t hang out or anything.”

“We only really talked when we were paired up for a project.” Niliana added.

“Yeah, I remember that! I always got a passing grade with you watching my back!”

“You made me do all the work.”

“Not like I was learning anything anyway. I still did some of the stirring, didn’t I?”

“Mmmm, I suppose. Not much. You were too busy getting into trouble releasing spirits in the locker room or something.”

Eda snickered, remembering all her troublesome pranks.

“They never could get rid of those spirits. They made me do it!”

Niliana looked doubtful.

“And how exactly did they manage that?”

Eda just smiled, sitting up so she could ruffle Luz’s hair.

“I had to get Luz here into that school somehow.”

They spent a while retelling some of there adventures from school. Well, Eda retold some of her adventures. NIlly occasionally would add something here or that, mentioning something she herself remembered. Otherwise, she busied herself with other things. The tea needed to be finished and handed out and the rabbit needed dried off after soak and restuffed. The tent was filled with laughter. Even King was laughing at some points, though he kept his attention mostly on his rabbit.

“I finished my tea!” Luz piped up. “Do you read the leaves now?”

“In a bit, hun, let me just finish this real quick.”

King bounced anxiously, watching her carefully as pulled the needle through the fabric. Finally, the string was tied off and snipped.

“He’s done! Ya fixed him!” King shouted, eagerly grabbing for the rabbit, but the woman pulled it away.

“One last thing.” She said, opening one of her drawers to pull out a black ribbon. She tied it around the rabbit’s neck, forming a cute little bowtie. Only when that was done did she hand it to the little demon. He snatched it from her hands, giving it a big hug.

“Francoise! You’re all fixed!” He cheered. “Thank you, lady!”

He jumped off the counter, dashing over to Eda to show her his newly fixed rabbit. She whistled.

“Dang, it almost looks brand new! I knew you did this sort of stuff but I didn’t know you were good at it.”

Niliana shook her head.

“How did you even know? I don’t remember telling you about it.”

Eda shrugged, moving to the side so King could sit next to her, Francoise in his lap.

“I don’t know, you mentioned something about fixing stuffed animals during one of our projects.”

“And you remembered?”

“Yeah, I know. I even shock myself sometimes.” She smirked smugly, crossing her legs and putting her hands behind her head.

Niliana rolled her eyes, sitting down and putting a hand out to Luz. The girl eeped gleefully, rushing to give her the tea cup.

“Now, what do you want me to focus on?”

“Uh, what?” Luz asked.

“I need something to focus on. So, what do you want to know?”

Luz thought for a moment, then beamed.

“Oh, oh, I know! Will I ever fall in love?”

Eda rolled her eyes, mumbling something about teenagers and love. Niliana smirked at that before gazing into the cup. A moment later her eyes started glowing teal. Luz watched, fascinated. Several moments passed in silence before Luz got too impatient.

“Well? What do you see?”

Niliana closed her eyes for a moment, then opened them again. They were no longer glowing, returned to their usual golden brown. She thought for a moment, Luz staring at her intently, slowly inching closer to the witch.

“You will fall in love. In fact, you’ll fall in love with someone you already know and who you’re already close with.” She finally said, placing the cup down on the coffee table.

“Whoa, really? How do you know?”

“When I read your tea leaves, I focus intently on you and whatever you want to know, in this case, love. When I go into my trance, I don’t really see things, I feel things. They're more like impressions. I felt love, that’s how I know you will fall in love with someone. But I also felt a sense of familiarity, which is how I know it’s someone close to you. I’d advise you to figure out if any of your friends like you.”

“Whoa…” Luz whispered, looking amazed. Eda chuckled. It was amazing that her face didn’t freeze like that.

“Alright, hotshot. If you’re so good at this then read my stupid leaves.” She said, leaning forward, her teacup hanging off a finger. Niliana snatched it before it could fall and shatter. She shot the other witch a hard look.

“What do you want to know?”

“I don’t know, just tell me something about my love life or whatever.”

The witch stared into the teacup for a moment before her eyes lit up once more.

“This is all nonsense anyway,” Eda added, sitting back and crossing her arms. Luz looked taken aback.

“What? Why?”

“Simple. There’s no such thing as a set future. It hasn’t happened yet! Sure, you can be told what might happen and give all sorts of random advice or whatever, but it’s you’re own actions that determine what really happens. That’s not something she can control.”

Luz looked a little downtrodden by her mentors' words, but brightened almost instantly.

“So she can’t tell exactly what’ll happen, but she can point me in the right direction! It’s like well-informed advice.”

Eda waved a hand dismissively.

“Whatever you say, kid. Personally, I don’t let this stuff get to me.”

Niliana blinked, her eyes returning to normal once more.

“... alright, there’s a lot more to go through here.” She commented, looking rather thoughtful.

Eda frowned, just a bit irritated.

“What’s that supposed to mean.”

The woman didn’t seem affected by Eda’s steely tone, continuing with her even, soft voice.

“You have a pretty crazy love life already, it can be hard to sift through. You feel a lot of love for the people around you, so it's hard to say if there’s anything new there … There will be others that’ll come into your life and join your little family, that’s for sure. For a wanted criminal, you really draw them in.”

Eda huffed, her irritation fading as a soft smile spread on her face.

“I suppose so... “

She tried not to react to the look Luz was giving her.

It was a few more seconds before Niliana spoke up again.

“For someone who’s dated a lot, you haven’t felt a who lot of romantic love before. But there will be someone someday. Probably someone from your past. You may be nervous about it, it’ll be odd and new, but It’ll be worth it. My advice would be to not go searching for anything, but don’t shove anyone away who might want to get close to you. You may never find love if you stay closed off. But make sure they’re making an effort, too.”

She gave a little nod, satisfied with her reading, and put the teacup next to the other.

“My turn! I want a reading too!” King piped up. Niliana nodded and made him a cup. He snatched it out of her hands with a “nyeh’ and gulped it down. He shoved the now empty cup into her face. “Do your magic, Lady!”

Niliana chuckled, taking the cup from him and reading it.

“You, dear, are going to live a very happy life surrounded by the ones you love. You’ll be very pampered like you are now.”

“Yes! Only the best for the King of Demons!” King said, puffing his chest out. Eda pat his head, nearly knocking him over.

“Whatever you say, tiny.”

They left shortly after that, all waving as the left. Niliana waved back from her tent.

“I liked her. We should visit again sometime!” Luz said, looking up at Eda expectantly. King did the same from Luz’s arms, tail wagging. Eda sighed, a smirk crawling onto her face.

“Fine, if you want.”

The two cheered, running ahead a bit. Eda smiled at them.

#edalyn clawthorne #the owl house #toh #toh eda #eda x reader #eda x oc #eda clawthorne #edalyn clawthorne x reader #edalyn clawthorne x oc

69 notes · View notes

milstrim · 4 years ago

Text

Comfort in My Shadow

Chapter 4: Uninvited

By @iwritedumbshit for @iron-mum

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark, Minor Pepper Potts/Tony Stark

Characters: Peter Parker, Tony Stark, Pepper Potts, Ned Leeds, James “Rhodey” Rhodes

Summary: Soulmates are definite in the universe. Nobody knows exactly why they exist, or what dictates who is bonded to who, the only thing known is that they are never wrong. But Peter’s not so sure about that.

Living at the group home had taught Peter a lot about laying low and how to stay alive when nobody cares. But he’d always clung to the hope of the shadow at his feet reflecting his soulmate that had watched over him for years.

Typical that his soulmate is actually a superhero that Peter is convinced shouldn’t want anything to do with him. Maybe, just this once, the Universe was wrong.

But Tony Stark is desperate to prove that it is right.

Ch 1 // Ch 2 // Ch 3 // Ch 5 // Ch 6 // Ch 7 // Ch 8

---

Peter didn't really wake up the next morning, because he hadn't really fallen asleep last night. He'd been incredibly tired, but his hair hadn't been able to lay flat and he hadn't been able to block out the overwhelmingly disgusting smell of Mr. Fowler's closet. He'd been it the entirety of the day and even throughout the night when Mr. Fowler stomped into the room and passed out on the bed. The lilting stumbles in his steps made Peter think he'd been drunk and had likely forgotten about the kid trapped in his closet.

So he hadn't really slept, but his eyes had been closed--the darkness of his eyes was better than that of the closet--until the door had finally swung open, allowing Peter his first full breath in almost a whole day. The dankness of Mr. Fowler's room was a thousand times better than the closet. An arm had grabbed his own, pulling him roughly to his feet and out of the closet. His legs had ached with the disuse, but he'd stumbled to his feet nonetheless.

"Are you going to talk back to me again, son?" Mr. Fowler had asked, a horrible pleasantness to his voice. Peter had shaken his head. Something had been shoved into his hands, and he'd fumbled only to realize it was his wallet. "There. The card doesn't work anymore, so you can have that piece of shit back. Now get out of here."

"O-okay. Thank you," he'd said, stumbling out of the room and into the bathroom that he'd been deprived of for almost twenty-four hours. Once he'd finished and washed his hands, he'd searched through his wallet.

His few crumpled bills had been taken, but the pictures stuffed inside had been left alone, and the black card had sat crammed in a pocket. He'd grabbed it with fumbling fingers, brows furrowing. It didn't work anymore? Had the man maxed it out? Peter had swallowed, a pit forming in his stomach as he thought about what the hell he'd bought to do that. Probably a lot of alcohol had been his guess.

He really, really hoped that Mr. Stark couldn't see his purchases.

After a quick shower, in which he'd had to sit down his vision had swam so much, he'd rushed out the door with his beaten up backpack swinging off of his shoulder. He knew he probably should have stayed to check on the other kids who'd had to listen to the fight last night and might need help with homework, but the teenager couldn't stand to be in that house for any longer. Everything smelled like Mr. Fowler's awful closet and he just needed to be out in the bright Sunday sun. He wanted to find just a little comfort in his shadow that he'd been deprived of the night before.

So he'd changed into his suit and swung around for most of the day, flipping for some overly excited middle schoolers and directing an old man from Ukraine visiting his son who lived in Harlem and ignoring the pain in his stomach. When there was a lull in the late afternoon, he strung a web between two buildings and just did as many daring flips and handstands as he could. It was a feeble attempt to distract himself from the events of the past few days.

Hits and threats from Mr. Fowler were nothing new, in fact, they were a staple in the Queens Pinehill Group Home for Boys, but last night had been different. He'd never been trapped like that in the group home. He'd always had a lot of free reign as long as he operated within the curfew and got his chores done, but yesterday was like someone had flipped a switch on that, and he was still reeling from the terror.

Or that could be the hunger eating through his stomach. Peter stopped flipping on the web for a moment, instead laying down and balancing himself on the thin string as his stomach growled so hard he flinched. He wouldn't even be getting anything today. When did his grounding end again? He was pretty sure it was Thursday, but he wouldn't be surprised if Mr. Fowler extended it after last night. Maybe he could stop by Ned's and get a granola bar or something.

The teenager looked down at the ground to stare at Mr. Stark's shadow, blinking as he realized it was no longer clothed in normal attire, or a sharp business suit, but rather the larger outline of what he could now identify as the Iron Man armor. He narrowed his eyes, wondering what the man must be doing. Probably something really important.

Peter sighed, moving to sit up, when a sound made him pause. He cocked his head before finally turning in the direction of the mechanical whine to make out the Iron Man suit flying towards him.

Huh.

He tried to feign disinterest, laying back down on the web and placing his hands underneath his head as the suit landed on the nearest building rooftop and Mr. Stark stepped out, but Peter couldn't lie to himself about how excited he really was to see the man.

"Hey, Mr. Stark," he greeted from the web.

"Hey, kid."

"Um, thanks for the letter." Please don't ask about the card. Please don't ask about the card. "Are you sure about the phone, though? I mean, that thing looks like it could cost as much as a house."

"Keep it, kid, I gave it to you for a reason," Mr. Stark said, waving him off. Peter watched him warily as he sat down on the edge of the building, shuffling nervously. Peter smiled to see the man very clearly out of his element, as if he would let him fall anyway. "So, how's your day been?"

Peter shrugged. "Fine."

"No hangovers or anything?" Peter froze. "Can you even get drunk? Cap can't."

The teenager hesitated before answering. It was either 'I bought a bunch of adult stuff with your credit card' or 'My foster father bought a bunch of adult stuff with your credit card.' He wasn't sure which one was better, but there didn't seem to be much to win from lying, not that there was much to gain from telling the truth either.

"I don't know," Peter responded honestly as he sat up on the web to stare at the shadow on the ground. The imitation felt more comforting than the real thing at that moment.

"You don't know? You bought three hundred dollars of pure liquor."

"Three hundred--Oh, jeez. I'm really sorry, Mr. Stark."

Mr. Stark blinked at him for a second before his gaze softened.

"You didn't buy any of that stuff, did you?" Peter shook his head. "Who? Andrew Fowler?" A moment. A nod. "Okay, I'll just deactivate that card and give you a new one."

"No, it's fine, Mr. Stark," Peter said, pulling his wallet out of his hoodie pocket and showing him the black card. "He gave it back. I think he was annoyed that it was, like, maxed out or something."

"Well, it is most definitely not maxed out--there's a lot more than three hundred on that, kid--but I'm glad you got it back."

"Thanks."

There was a minute of awkward silence before Mr. Stark rolled his shoulders and sat up straighter.

"So, no tower yesterday?"

Peter suddenly remembered the little note at the end of his letter. He shrugged bashfully, mumbling, "Yeah, sorry, uh Mr--Mr. Fowler kept us pretty busy yesterday. Chore day, so."

"Wanna stop by now?"

Peter looked up at him in surprise. It was a wonder this man didn't hate him yet. The foster parents Peter had before Mr. Fowler had gotten sick of him pretty quickly, or just hadn't been very attached in the first place, while the majority of his teachers regarded him with either pity or disdain at his situation and record. As far as Mr. Stark knew, he had an accident-prone, snotty teenager as a soulmate whose favorite pass time was to be a juvenile delinquent.

And yet, the mechanic regarded him with a soft smile. A little strained, but welcoming nonetheless. It unfurled something in his chest.

"Really?"

"Really."

"Yeah!--I mean, sure sure, that'd be fun." Mr. Stark gave him an amused smile as the teenager stepped off of his web and onto the roof of the building. With a quick glance and a rare smile, Peter leaped off the roof, enjoying the way Mr. Stark yelped in surprise. Peter called, "Beat you there!!"

He did not, in fact, beat Mr. Stark to the tower. To be fair, the man was in a suit that flew faster than a jet and Peter was only propelled by physics and muscles.

The teenager watched from a short distance as the Iron Man suit paused in front of a higher point in the tower, faced him for a moment, and then dove through the window. He raised an eyebrow, but doubled down in catching up to the man, only barely managing to swing himself high enough so that he wouldn't have to crawl his way up more than a couple of stories.

Finally, just a few minutes later than Mr. Stark, he rolled through the window and landed hard on the floor just a little unsteadily, not that he cared in the slightest. There were much more interesting things to care about in that moment.

"Whoa..."

"You like it?" Mr. Stark called from across the lab. Peter nodded dumbly, staring, widemouthed, at the state of the art equipment decorating just about every inch of the room. There were cases of Iron Man armor lining the walls, robots rolling around--he managed a laugh at one with a dunce cap sweeping the ground with a broom inefficiently--and tables filled with projects Peter couldn't even begin to dream of. "You can take your mask off here, kid. No one's going to see you."

Mr. Stark's voice pulled him back to reality, drawing him further into the room hesitantly. He glanced at the man, but realized dimly that his spider sense had finally calmed down. This wasn't the danger he'd felt after being fished out of the lake, or the feeling that had been following him since, it was a normal calm mixed with just a hint of nerves.

He tugged his mask off.

Mr. Stark stared at him, a soft look on his face, before finally tearing his gaze away when Peter shuffled uncomfortably.

"Sorry, kid," he apologized. "Didn't mean to freak you out. Just..."

"Just what?"

"It's just nice to see you, Peter."

He didn't know what to say to that, so he just offered the billionaire a strained smile and stepped over to the desk the man was standing at. He felt more than a little out of place, but his curiosity overwhelmed his discomfort as he glanced over a shiny metal case held lightly in the billionaire's hands in interest. Mr. Stark tapped it when he caught the boy looking.

"This, kid," he said, sliding it over, "is for you."

Peter caught it effortlessly, his fingers light and hesitant as he glanced from it to Mr. Stark, his head down.

"I can't accept this, Mr. Stark. You already--"

Mr. Stark interrupted by reaching over and pressing something on the case. It sprang open, spooking Peter enough for him to take a step back but holding his attention as he caught sight of the bright red fabric. The eyes were what really caught his attention, looking unreasonably cool and intimidating. Peter mumbled, "This is the coolest thing I've ever seen."

Mr. Stark chuckled. "Good thing it's yours."

"It's--" He gaped at the man. "Mr. Stark, I really can't accept--"

"Too bad," he interrupted. "It's a gift and it's rude to turn down a gift. So, there's a bathroom right over there if you want to try it on. Give it a whirl?"

After a moment of hesitation, he closed the case, thanked Mr. Stark, and headed to the bathroom to change.

---

When Peter stepped out of the bathroom in the new suit, Tony couldn't help but frown. He covered it up as quickly as possible, but the sentiment still remained as his eyes roamed over the kid. He was muscular, sure, but he was so thin that it practically hurt. The teenager's ribs were practically there just for him to count and worry about. He filed it away for later as Peter turned to look at him, the mask's eyes narrowing.

"Looking good, hotshot," Tony said. "How's it feel?"

"It's awesome, Mr. Stark," Peter responded, his hands held out in front of him as he tapped the webshooters. "It smells like a new car!"

Tony couldn't help his laugh. "If you think that's cool, just wait. Friday, Babysitter Protocol."

"Babysitter--" Peter cut off with a confused yelp as his suit lit up blue, the AI in his suit supposedly greeting him. The kid cocked his head. "Oh, hi. Nice to meet you too."

Tony turned away, letting the kid and the AI get acquainted as he pulled out his phone and ordered a few pizzas. Five might be enough. Steve had always eaten a lot, and even if he didn't manage to burn through the best pizza in the city, the kid could definitely use leftovers. He entered the order and shifted back to observe the kid again.

"--uh, Liz? No, no, that's weird. How about Karen?" A moment as he waited for a response. "Fun. Nice. Cool, this is so cool."

Tony smiled, unable to tear his eyes away from the kid. His soulmate. His little shadow.

Peter turned to look at him after a few minutes, muttering a quick goodbye to the AI--Karen, he guessed--before tugging the mask off again. There was a hesitant smile tugging at his thin face. Much too thin. How many pizzas would it take to get the kid back to even a semi-healthy weight? Probably way too many.

"Thank you so much, Mr. Stark," Peter said. "I really can't thank you enough."

"Please, you can thank me by not thanking me. Pepper says my ego's already a little off of the charts." Peter laughed and Tony couldn't help his grin. "Wanna stay over for dinner? I ordered pizza."

Peter hesitated, but after a moment he answered, "Alright," which was so much better than the kid regarding him defensively or looking like he was constantly on the edge of running away again. And, as it turned out, Peter fit more easily into his life than he could have thought.

In barely thirty minutes, the kid was sat beside him at a desk filled with vials of web fluid and pieces of Iron Man armor, an old, frayed hoodie of Tony's slipped over the suit, and a stack of freshly baked pizza laid out in front of them. Peter sat in the chair next to him as the mechanic ran through the schematics of his suit, hanging on every single word.

"...most of the framing is between the protective layers of your suit, completely waterproof by the way, if you ever get yourself into another lake. You also have a parachute if you pass the three thousand feet threshold."

Peter glanced over his shoulder in surprise. "There's a parachute in this thing? How?"

Tony tapped his back where he knew the spider logo was. "A magician never reveals their secrets."

"Did you compress all the air out of it? Or build it into the wiring on the patch on my back somehow?"

"Both are true." He took a bite of pizza. "You're pretty smart, huh?"

Peter ducked his head with a shrug. "Sorta. I can figure out chemistry, but that's about it."

"I don't believe that for a second, but we'll stick with the modesty for now." Peter huffed out a laugh, spinning the hologram of his suit and staring at it in complete adoration. It dragged a smile onto Tony's face.

Peter had a sort of ruggedness to him, a desperate scrappiness, but it was embarrassingly easy to see that that wasn't all there was to the teenager. His rambles were fast and excited, his scarce smiles adorably bright and always lighting up his doe eyes. There was a kind of spark to Peter that Tony couldn't explain, and, though he was sorry that the kid was saddled with him, he couldn't have wished for a better soulmate.

Apparently, five pizzas ended up being a great number, because Peter ate everything Tony offered him. He was practically a human garbage disposal, though much more polite. Tony was glad that the kid was filling up, but it made him seriously question how much he was getting at that group home. After letting the kid get comfortable for about an hour, he voiced it.

"Do they feed you where you live, kid? I swear, you just put down over ten thousand calories."

Peter paused on the slice he was eating, swallowing before putting it back on the plate nervously, and Tony immediately regretted ever opening his big, fat mouth.

"Yeah. They--Mr. Fowler feeds us fine. Just, enhanced metabolism, so." He shrugged. It was said so nervously that it felt like an outright lie, but Tony left it alone.

"Okay. Good to know. Just make sure to use that card whenever you get hungry, kid. I'm not having my soulmate starve."

At his mention of being soulmates, Peter glanced over his shoulder to stare at their shadows. Right now they almost looked like their own shadows, mirror images of each other, but if you looked hard enough you could see the slight difference in hair texture and the distinctive widths of their shoulders.

"It must've been weird," Peter said. Tony glanced at him in confusion. "Not having a shadow. You didn't get one until I was born, right?"

"Oh. Yeah," Tony agreed. He swallowed as he admitted, "Thought I was broken for the longest time. It was the best day of my life when your tiny little baby shadow appeared at my feet... What about you? Always had a grown man following you around, huh?"

"That sounded creepy, Mr. Stark." Tony just grinned cheekily. "It was nice, actually, always having you there. Like--like a guardian or something."

"And now you've got the real thing." Peter rolled his eyes and Tony pointed at him. "Ah, there's that good ol' sass I was looking for. I was afraid I'd lost it."

"Uhuh. You're kinda weird, Mr. Stark."

"Right back at you, little shadow." Peter smiled at the nickname before glancing out the window where the sky was a deep russet red. "Time for you to head out?"

"Yeah. I've still got some homework to do."

The two stood up and walked over to the window. Peter moved to take the hoodie he'd been wearing off, but Tony stopped him. "Keep it. I've got plenty."

"Oh, thanks, Mr. Stark."

"Yeah, yeah, I'm so generous. Have fun with the suit, kid, I'll see you soon."

"When?"

Tony paused, looking over at the kid who had only just begun to pull the mask over his head, hopeful eyes staring at him. He desperately wanted to tell the kid he'd pick him up from school tomorrow so that they could hang out in the lab again, but he knew he genuinely didn't have any time. He'd been putting off packing for a few too many days.

"After we move. I'll pick you up from school on Friday. We can go explore the compound together. Sound good?"

Peter nodded. "Yep. Real good, Mr. Stark."

"You can call me Tony, Mr. Parker," he joked.

Peter pulled the mask down and jumped out the window with a call of. "See you Friday, Mr. Stark!"

Tony's shoulders shook with laughter.

---

Friday. Peter couldn't wait for Friday. With a burst of excitement and energy he hadn't had in a while, Peter flipped in the air and let out a WHOOO! only catching himself at the last second before flipping back up.

"Wow, this suit is so intuitive!" he exclaimed, shooting another web.

"I am glad you think so, Peter," Karen responded, shocking him so bad he nearly let go of his web. Oh, yeah, he'd forgotten he had an AI now. Man, Mr. Stark was so cool. "I am currently taking feedback for the suit's systems in case anything needs to be changed on Friday. Would you like to rate the suit's webshooters?"

"Oh, full eleven out of ten, Karen. It's great."

"Thank you for the feedback, Peter, I have sent a note to Mr. Stark."

"Oh." Peter blushed. "You didn't have to tell him that, Karen."

"Why not? He has asked for feedback."

"No, it's not--" He cut himself off, sighing as he flipped himself into a large arc. "I just don't want to bother him. He's already been so nice to me."

"Mr. Stark has asked for feedback, Peter."

"It's not the--it's not the feedback, Karen," he tried to explain.

"I do not understand."

He spluttered and then sighed, waving it off. "Whatever. It's fine, Karen, just forget it."

"Of course, Peter. Would you like me to show you the quickest route home?"

Peter hesitated. He did have a lot of homework to do, and Eric probably needed help with his reading, but he had to swallow down fear at the thought of being in the same room as Mr. Fowler again. It was irrational--it was so stupid--and Peter knew it, but he couldn't stop the way his hands seemed to shake and his entire body quail.

"Actually, let's take the scenic route. Really test out the suit, y'know?"

"Of course, Peter. Planning now."

A blue line appeared on screen, leading Peter back to the group home. He muttered, "So cool."

Spider-Man was only halfway back to the Queens Pinehill Group Home for Boys, finally across the bridge and back into his home territory, when his spider sense went off again. He immediately glanced down at his shadow, which had lengthened as the sun set, for some kind of comfort or guidance. But of course, there wasn't one. It was just a shadow.

A little put off by the shiver that had run down his spine, he attached himself to the side of the building, staring out over the street. Nothing too out of the normal. People hurrying on the sidewalk, cars honking down the street, and shadows following along aimlessly.

"Karen. What's going on?"

"What do you mean, Peter?" the AI asked.

"It's just--there's something wrong. Maybe--" At a second shiver up his spine, Peter turned to look at where his senses were directing him at the ringing of a bell.

It was a small bodega, its door swung open as two men stepped inside in unreasonably thick coats for the warm weather. He narrowed his eyes, and the suit zoomed in with him, scanning the men before they disappeared through the door.

"What's the time, Karen?"

"7:30."

"Alright, we're good then. Plenty of time." He swung over to the bodega, attaching himself to the wall above the door, out of sight of the occupants inside. His senses had yet to calm down, so he assumed that he was right about this being a robbery. "Ready to test out the suit, Karry Berry?"

"I am always ready, Peter."

"Y'know, I think this is the start of a beautiful friendship."

"Does that mean I should assign you a nickname too?"

"Definitely! Think about it for a moment and get back to me after we do this," Peter exclaimed in an excited mumble, straining his ears to hear whatever was going on inside. There was the tense calm of nothing for a moment, and then a shuffle and a squeak followed by a spike in his senses. He muttered to himself. "Finally."

He kept his ears strained on the actions going on inside, dropping down in front of the door quietly to watch what was happening. There was a teenager at the register, her hands fumbling with the register while the two men from earlier in their dark coats pointed shotguns at her. He could see tears streaming down the girl's face, clearly terrified.

Peter crept forward, picking up on the muttered conversation inside.

"--just open the register, keep it quiet," the closest man said in a raspy voice. "Hand everything over nice and quick."

"It's--it doesn't open," the girl cried. "It doesn't open unless a purchase is made and--"

The man flinched forward. "Do I look like I care? Just open it!"

Finally having heard enough, Peter placed his fingers against the door and pulled it open as quietly as possible.

Ding!

Peter froze. Heads turned. Curses flew.

The superhero darted forward as the gun pointed at him, firing a shot that missed him completely as he dove behind a grocery aisle of gummies and pregnancy tests. Bodegas really were something. Peter crouched down, muttering under his breath, "Fuck that stupid bell."

"Would you like me to alert Mr. Stark to your predicament?" Karen asked.

"What? No! I can deal with this, Karen, just watch."

"I like the new look," came the voice of the man that had shot at him. "New government sugar daddy or something?"

Peter blanched. "I really wish that that would stop being people's first assumption. People can be platonic y'know!"

There was a scoff and the sound of something warping. Peter's eyes narrowed, peeking around the grocery shelf and then immediately ducking back. The man, the one who hadn't shot at him, had pulled out a large and glowing weapon that looked incredibly similar to the one that had been at the ATM robbery. Man, he was getting really sick of those things.

The teenage girl had looked okay, shivering behind the desk and thankfully not making any moves to alert the police, as far as he could tell anyway. The last thing he needed was cops showing up in such a tense situation. And his first time using the new suit! That would be just plain embarrassing.

"Platonic or not, I don't give a shit," Normal Gun Man said. "A new look isn't going to change your situation. So either come out, or we shoot you."

"I don't know if you can shoot me while I'm back here soooo."

There was a click and a squeak. "Yeah? What about her?"

Okay. So that was a little different.

Without hesitation, Peter stepped out from behind the aisle shelf, his arms raised half-heartedly in the air. The two men had ski masks over their face--not quite as fun as the Avengers masks, but it'd do--but he could still see the honestly nervous smile of the man holding the gun. Clearly he hadn't expected the arrival of Queens favorite vigilante.

"Good to know that you can comply," Normal Gun Guy said. Alien Gun Guy had the weird blue gun pointed at Peter, but the shotgun was still directed at the worker. He chose his target.

"Not really."

With a flick, he webbed the shotgun and slammed it into the wall. There was a startled scream at the same moment his hairs stood on end. Peter only managed to jump forward before he was encased in a blue light that gave him quite possibly the worst headache of his entire life. He hated the feeling of that stupid thing. He didn't quite know what it was, but it felt like something out of The Incredibles. Like Syndrome and shit.

"Ugh! This thing is so weird!" Peter complained in a warped yell. Alien Gun Guy gave him a brutish look and then swung him through the window.

Peter grunted as he crashed through the window, wincing at the clinking shatter of glass that broke under him, but, surprisingly, none of the glass managed to grab at him and slice through his skin, even as he was shot across the street from the force of the alien weapon, only stopping when he thudded against the wall. He groaned as the air was forced out of him.

At least the suit had kept him from getting cut.

"Ugh... The hell." The teenager shook his head, forcing himself back to his feet, clinging to the wall for just a moment as he blinked out dizziness. Remembering himself, he turned back to the bodega across the street, panicking when his head pounded. That wasn't from being hit, that was his spider sense.

The men ran out of the door, hulking along a cash register and a handful of cigarette packs, but the teenage girl had yet to leave and his head only pounded harder. Spider-Man dashed across the road, leaping through the already broken window, his breath catching as he caught sight of the purple thing sitting on the ground in the middle of the bodega. It whined, louder and louder.

Bomb. Bomb!

Peter's head shot around so fast he physically winced, but he caught sight of the teenager behind the counter. Working on instinct, he jumped over the counter as the whine reached its apex, wrapping his arms around the girl and pushing himself between her and the bomb. He squeezed his eyes shut as tightly as possible, gritting his teeth.

The world shook and she let out a surprised cry into his shoulder but didn't let go. Peter barely managed to hold down a whimper of fear. Be brave, be a hero. Be brave, be a hero. He could do it. He was fine.

He was fine.

Peter blinked his eyes open, moving carefully to peer over the counter.

"Dammit," he muttered. The rest of the windows had shattered, and just about every product in the store had been knocked back and now littered the ground. A tile fell from the ceiling, making him tense his shoulders. They'd gotten away. Some hero he was.

"I have a nickname for you, Peter," Karen said in his ear. He frowned in annoyance. Well, he had told her to tell him once the situation was over.

"Great," he snapped, stepping over the counter, his boot crunching on the glass. "What is it?"

"Peter-butter!"

"...Okay that's actually pretty good."

---

After double checking that the cashier was alright, Peter had fled the scene, cursing himself for how bad it had gone. Nobody had died, but that wasn't really the standard he was looking for. If anything, he'd really just made everything worse. Stupid, Parker, stupid!

The teenager sighed, dipping into the dark alleyway where his backpack had been left earlier. He grabbed it from under the crate of boxes where he'd hidden it, pressing the spider emblem on his chest, allowing the suit to cascade off of him. Frustrated, Peter ripped the mask off and untangled himself from the fabric at his feet, stuffing the items in his faded blue bag and jumping back into his own clothes, and, after a moment of hesitation, slipped into the hoodie that Mr. Stark had given him.

He pulled the bag over his shoulder and buried his hands into his pockets as he stepped out of the alleyway and back onto the streets in the direction of the Queens Pinehill Group Home for Boys. His brows were furrowed and his face squished into a deep frown. He couldn't believe he'd been given a superhero suit by literally Iron Man and he'd screwed it up immediately. He chittered nervously at the thought of Mr. Stark seeing what had happened at the bodega and realizing just how shit of a superhero his soulmate was.

As he was debating the likely-hood of Mr. Stark taking the suit back and never talking to him again for his screw up, his phone buzzed. Hesitantly, Peter pulled it out to find two texts waiting for him. One from Ned and one from Mr. Stark.

He clicked on the one from Ned first. The text app opened up to show Peter a grainy picture of him in his new suit followed by Ned's message of 'Excuse me??? tf is this?? tell me everything rn or im going to die'

Peter smiled faintly, making a mental note to call his friend in a few minutes. With a deep breath, he clicked on Mr. Stark's message.

Mr. Stark: I saw the news. You okay?

Peter blinked. He wasn't mad? He chewed on his lip as he sent a response, 'All good. Sorry I freaked you out.'

Mr. Stark texted back almost immediately, 'No problem. Just glad you're good. Text ya later, kiddo.'

And that was that, Peter supposed. No...no nothing, really. He'd expected a lot more resistance or opposition from the billionaire, but he wasn't mad that he hadn't gotten any. He was about to call Ned when his phone buzzed again.

Mr. Stark: 'P.S. You can talk to and text Karen through your phone. Knock yourself out, Peter-butter.'

Well, that was embarrassing. But still kinda cool.

With a shake of his head, he finally dialed Ned's number. His friend only picked up after two rings with a breathless greeting.

"Yo, what the hell is up with that suit? Did Mr. Stark make it for you? Are you super hero buddies now!!? Officially his sidekick!!?"

Peter smiled, shaking his head in amusement as he stopped at a streetlight. "Yeah, Mr. Stark made it for me. It's cool right? It even has an AI!"

"It has an AI!!? Please, please, tell me you'll let me look at it."

"Duh. Yeah, you can look at it. We can go to your house after school." Peter thought for a moment, thinking of the alien weapons. He'd messed up today, probably disappointed Mr. Stark, but if he could take the whole operation down... "Besides, I need your help with something."

Ch 1 // Ch 2 // Ch 3 // Ch 5 // Ch 6 // Ch 7 // Ch 8

#friendly neighborhood exchange #peter parker #tony stark #Iron Man #spiderman #irondad #spiderson #irondad and spiderson #ironman fanfiction #spiderman fanfiction #marvel fanfiction #soulmate au #platonic soulmates #not st*rker

41 notes · View notes

inactive-shroomiehomie · 4 years ago

Text

Gone

Warnings: Major Character Death, looooots of angst, graphic descriptions, gun use, established relationship

Pairing: Rafael Barba x Reader

Summary: You find yourself in a hostage situation with a gun pointed straight at you.

Word Count: 3546

A/N: Please don't hurt me ! This killed my soul to write but I felt in the mood to write some angst. (gif not mine) I’m not crying you are.

It had been a little after midnight when you got the call from Amanda. Your suspect, Markus Bramble, in a child/spousal abuse case had pulled a gun on the mother and their two suspects at the hotel they were hiding in. Other guests had heard the gunshots and started to call 9-1-1. You tried your hardest not to wake Rafael as you got your clothes from the closet. You didn’t care to change your shirt since it was a t-shirt anyway. You grabbed your gun and badge and gave your loving fiancé a tender kiss on the back of his shoulder before bolting out of the house.

With your lights on, it didn’t take you long to arrive on the scene. It would have been a lot sooner if people would learn to pull over for an emergency vehicle, but that’s New York for you. You parked your car behind a mobile unit with your lights on and ran to find the team. SWAT, hostage negotiation, and even members of 1PP were on scene. Soon enough you spotted Carisi in the chaos. You flashed your badge to the uniform at the barrier and ran to him.

“Sonny!” You called, “Sonny, what’s the situation here?” When you finally got to him, you noticed Amanda and Fin were with him too. “Where’s Olivia?”

“Over there with the hostage negotiator.” Fin answered, shoving his finger behind him before handing you a vest. You nodded your head at him in thanks as you put it on.

“Markus tracked down his wife and kids. We have confirmed gunshots, but no one can get an eye on the room so we don’t know if anyone’s hurt.”

“And, he won’t answer the landline to the room either. So Liv is trying to convince them to let us go in there.” Amanda added.

“Fuck,” You cursed hands on your hips. “You don’t think he’d shoot his kids, would you?”

No one answered your question. Just a lot of dreadful looks. After a bit, Olivia finally came back over to you all. “We have- Great, (L/N) you made it.” You gave a tight-lipped smile to her before she continued, “Alright, we have the all-clear to go in. Now, (L/N), you were the lead on this case. You, Carisi, and Rollins will be heading in while Fin and I stay out here to control things from the outside.”

“What room?” You asked, taking your gun out of its holster.

“2E. Please remember,” Olivia started as the three of you prepared to head in, “Don’t do anything stupid.”

In single file formation, the three of you ran up the stairs to the right floor. Your heart was racing from a mix of adrenaline and not having enough sleep. You had your gun drawn at your side as you opened the stairwell door. You waved Sonny and Amanda to go ahead of you and sweep the rooms before your victims’. They ended up finding a couple of random civilians and quickly rushed them into the stairwell before pushing forward. When you came to the room, Amanda and you went to one side of the door frame while Sonny went to the other.

You gently hit against the door to alert Markus that you were outside.

“WHO IS IT?” He screamed, followed by barely audible whimpers.

“Markus, it’s Detective (Y/N) (L/N) from Special Victims, remember me?”

There was a slight pause and then a bullet burst through the wood of the door, causing splinters to fly everywhere. Amanda quickly radioed the team outside what happened and to hold.

“GO-GO AWAY!”

You took a couple of deep breathes and looked to your partners to check on them.

“Can’t do that, Markus. You got a gun and your family in there. Can you at least tell me if everyone’s okay?”

“Everyone’s fine damnit, now just FUCK off.” Markus paused, “I just wanna be left alone with my family. I want my family back.”

“Markus, you know, your kids are probably scared out of their minds right now. Now, why don’t you just send them out okay? Right now they see their daddy with a gun pointed at mommy and they don’t know what to think.”

There’s silence, nothing but the sound of soft sobbing coming from the other side of the door, His wife.

“C’mon Markus!” Carisi called out, “You give us somethin’, we give you somethin’.”

Son of a bitch.

“Who’s that?!” Markus yelled, you could hear a bunch of footsteps behind the door.

You sighed, “Detective Carisi. I have Detective Rollins out here as well.”

He lets out an aggravated yell, causing his children to let out yelps of fear. Another moment of silence.

“I send out my kids, you get them out of here. If I talk to anyone, it’s gonna be you. You’re the ONLY ONE who understood me.”

Sonny shook his head at you, mouthing ‘No’ and ‘Don’t’ You were half tempted to listen to him.

“Alright. Alright. Can you send out the kiddos first please, Markus?”

There was a lot of shuffling from behind the door before a little boy and girl stepped carefully from behind it, one by one. Immediately Sonny and Amanda holstered their guns and lead them down the hall. Amanda stopped for a moment and looked at you, “You better know what you’re doing. We’ll be in the stairwell.” You brushed her shoulder with your hand and they sped off with the kids.

“Markus, Markus they’re all gone now, Now can we talk about why you’re here?”

“I just...I just want my old life back! I don’t remember hurting my family! I just DON’T” Markus was crying now.

“Markus, you’re sick. You have a dissociative disorder and you need help. I’m sure your family will understand-”

“I’M NOT CRAZY!”

“Markus, I never said you were, okay? Your sick.”

Markus sobbed in the room, you chewed on your lip. You were running yourself into a dead end.

“Markus. Can you let your wife go for me?”

“Why? First my kids now her?! What more do you people want from me?”

“I want everyone to be able to see tomorrow. Even you. The second anyone downstairs hears a gunshot- mine or yours- they’re coming up here. I know you don’t want any of that to happen do you?”

“Markus please, liste-”

There was a loud smack followed by a thud.

“Damnit,” You whispered, “Take me, Markus. If you want everything to go your way, you’ll want to have a better bargaining chip than your wife, yeah?”

Markus started to talk to himself in the room. Soon, you heard his wife yelp and the door flung open. He threw her into the hallway and she rolled to the ground. You waved an empty hand at her, signaling for her to go. She didn’t even hesitate at your order, running as best as she could to freedom.

Markus left the door open for you to walk in. “Leave your gun out there. Vest too.” He mumbled. Sniffle.

You thought back to Olivia and Amanda’s words. Before you took your vest off, you looked down to the ring on your left hand, you pressed your lips to it, and walked in. Now free of protection, Markus aimed his pistol at you from across the room. Your arms were raised in the air, proving you didn’t have anything on you. He looked horrible. Hair stuck to his face from the sweat, his face puffy and red, and his clothes looked like he took them from a dumpster.

“Okay. Okay, it’s just me and you now, okay?”

He nodded a bit, not wanting to look directly at you.

“If I’m sick... Why punish me? Huh?” Markus wiped the tears and snot from his face, “Why take my family away and HIDE THEM from ME?!”

“Didn’t you see the bruises all over them? The cuts?”

“THAT WASN’T ME!” He sobbed, gun wavering in his hand. You flinched.

“I know!” You yelled back, “I know that wasn’t you, Markus!” You took a couple of steps forward.

“S-Stay back..!” Markus lurched forward, pointing his gun more steadily at you.

“I know you wouldn’t willingly hurt them.” You continued, taking a few more shaky steps. “I know what happened to you as a child.”

“NO!” More sobs. He brought both hands to his head and started smacking, but realized his mistake and stuttered the gun back in its place.

“How your Mom would be at work all night... How she would leave you with your dad... Markus the things he did to you are things no child should ever have to experience...”

Markus couldn’t even respond to you at this point with how hysterical he was. You finally got right in front of him. You carefully put your arms down and put your left hand out to him.

“Markus... Give me the gun.”

He shook his head as he stared at the floor.

“Markus...”

He started to raise his head but caught sight of your hand. He grabbed hold of it and flipped it over. His body was trembling, but he slowly stopped his sobs. Your breath caught in your throat as he took your hand.

“What are you doing?” You asked, glancing between him and you.

Markus gave a soft sarcastic chuckle, finally bringing himself to you. “You’re married? Aren’t you?”

“I-I’m engaged.”

“So... you-you get to have your happily ever after..” Markus sniffed hard, his demeanor turning more angry than sad. “While I get to rot... In the FUCKIN’ looney bin?!”

He tossed your hand aside harshly, throwing you off your balance.

“Markus, wait. Please, just put the gun down.” You begged, putting your hands back up like before.

“I shouldn’t have trusted you.”

“Markus, no-”

Everything froze for you. Your ears were ringing and your chest felt like it was a set ablaze. It started getting harder to breathe and your mouth tasted like old pennies. Your brought your hand to your chest and felt around before bringing it up to eye level. Blood. You started to lose your balance and stuttered backward, falling flat on your ass before landing against some piece of furniture.

You took in slow heavy breaths, your vision starting to get spotty. There was another loud ring and you saw Markus fall to the floor, almost in slow motion. You blinked and suddenly Sonny and Amanda were both at your side. They were yelling stuff at you, but your brain couldn’t get enough oxygen to focus on them.

“’ Man...’Manda...” You choked out, crimson red spilling past your lips.

Although your vision was blurred, you could tell Amanda was sobbing. Suddenly it all hit you. You finally realized what happen. You started shaking your head back and forth as best as you could.

“No-No..” You rasped, “Raf...”

Suddenly your eyelids began to grow heavy. You tried your best to keep them open, but tears were burning your eyes and you couldn’t hold back much longer. Before the world went cold, you felt Carisi smack you across the face and pleaded for you to stay awake.

Rafael grumbled as he rolled over in bed. He wanted so badly to ignore his phone ringing and to just snuggle you closer to him. He reached out for you in bed, only to open his eyes and see that your side of the bed was empty. He finally rubbed the sleep from his eyes and grabbed his phone off of the nightstand, not caring that he just ripped it off the charger.

Liv 22 missed calls

Liv Rafa, answer me.

Liv RAFAEL

Liv It’s (Y/N), something’s happened. NOW ANSWER YOUR DAMN PHONE

Rafael’s blood ran cold. Thankfully he wasn’t wearing anything other than boxers, because he would have run out in his pajamas. He threw on an old shirt and sweatpants, slid on his house shoes, and dialed Olivia as he ran out the door.

His conversation with Olivia was short. He kept fumbling over his words trying to find out what happened to you. But when Olivia finally explained the situation he almost crashed his car.

“She’s at Mercy General, Rafa.” Olivia’s voice was soft and strained. She’d clearly been crying.

“I’ll be there in five minutes.”

Rafael had no idea how well he was driving, but damnit he was going to get to the hospital. You were going to get married soon and you weren’t dying on him until both of you were well into your 80′s.

He swung into the parking lot and parked in a fire lane. He didn’t have time to think about parking his fucking car with you on the brink of death. Olivia met him in the lobby to take him up to where you were. On a normal day, she would comment on his outfit.

“How is she? What’s going on?” Rafael spat out, trying to keep his volume and tears down.

“It’s...” Olivia paused, pressing her hand against her mouth gently, “She’s lost a lot of blood. Sonny is donating right now but they don’t know if it’s going to be enough.”

“She’s going to pull through. She’s strong. She’s stubborn as hell, okay, (Y/N) will make it.”

Olivia simply nodded. She could see how torn her friend was and didn’t have the heart to make it any worse. She wrapped an arm around Rafael’s shoulders and led him into the waiting room. The room was full of officers- in and out of uniform- and others from the precinct. Fin was in the corner with Amanda, trying to console her and calm her down.

Rafael choked back a cry when he saw her shirt was covered in blood. Fin gave him a sympathetic look before wrapping his jacket around her shoulders to block his view.

“(Y/N)’s in surgery right now. Why don’t we sit down and wait for the doctor. Okay?” Olivia had to force him to move from where he had planted himself and into a chair. She sat in the one right next to him.

“Shit, I’ve got to call my mother.” He cursed, jerking right back up out of his chair and down the hall to get some quiet. He needed to be vulnerable right now and if anyone had to see or hear that, it would be his mother.

Hours passed by and there was still no word about your condition. Olivia took Amanda home with Fin to change and for them to check on their children. Sonny stayed back to keep an eye on Rafael, even though his mother was there. But she was asleep on his shoulder.

Rafael looked at his phone. Almost five in the goddamn morning and they still couldn’t tell him whether you were alive or not. Sonny noticed how frustrated he was becoming and took a seat beside him. Rafael didn’t even acknowledge him, but he mentally thanked the law student for it. They sat there in comfortable silence for a while.

“I gave ‘em a lot of blood, Rafael.” Sonny started before looking over to the older male, “I kept yelling at ‘em to take more, and eventually they had to force me out. Said I can come back in later if they needed it.”

Rafael’s head snapped over to Sonny at the sound of his name. He just gave a curt nod and patted Sonny’s forearm.

“You did all you could. Thank you.”

Sonny pressed his lips together, “Hey, why don’t you rest? I’ll wake you up when the doctors come over.”

Rafael shook his head, “Not a chance. I get woken out of bed only to find out my soon to be wife is possibly on her death bed- no way I’m going back to sleep.”

“Okay,” Sonny spoke softly, returning the same action that Rafael did to him moments before.

Rafael looked around the room. Most of the uniformed officers had left, while some others lingered behind. Chief Dodds had arrived earlier and had yet to make his way to Rafael. That man should know more than anyone about the pain he’s feeling right now.

Olivia suddenly rounded the corner, now wearing a more comfortable outfit and without Amanda. She spotted Rafael and took the seat in front of him. He pointed behind him, but Olivia understood.

“She couldn’t come back. ‘Manda needed some time with her family. Fin stayed behind to keep an eye on her.”

“‘S fine.” He mumbled, nodding his head with a quick flash of a smile.

There was a small creak down the hall that drew Rafael back to the situation. He focused his vision on that one area until he saw a doctor come around the corner in surgical scrubs.

“(Y/N) (L/N)?”

Rafael gently woke his mother before standing, his friends joining them as they quickly made their way over to the doctor with Rafael in lead.

“I-I’m her fiance, what’s going on? Is (Y/N) okay?” His mother slid her hand into his for comfort, squeezing as hard as she could.

The doctor sighed and Rafael wanted to vomit. “She’s, uh, not in good condition. We got all we could of the bullet out but it pierced her lungs and did a lot of other internal damage. All we can do now is... make her comfortable. You can see her if you’d like.”

Rafael pressed his fist against his lips tightly, letting his tears fall. If he spoke, he would just start screaming and never stop. His mother thanked the doctor before wrapping her arms around her son.

“Rafi, mijo, c’mon. You don’t want to keep her waiting.”

He nodded silently. He felt Sonny put a hand on his back for a moment before withdrawing it. Everyone walked down to your room. Even though he was your husband to be, Rafael couldn’t walk into your room first. He waited for his friends to walk in first before he and his mother did.

He had to force himself to keep standing at the sight of you. Your skin was ghostly pale and the skin all-around your neck was bruised. From the chest down you were wrapped up in gauze and bandages like a damn mummy. They even had a breathing tube sticking out of your throat due to blockages.

Olivia and Sonny stood on the side of your bed opposite the door so Rafael can get right there with you. He reached out to touch your skin and he flinched at how cold your skin felt.

Lucia couldn’t bear to see her son like this anymore, “Olivia, Sonny, why don’t we give them a moment.”

They agreed, following her to the door. “I’ll pay for you some breakfast, Mrs. Barba.” Sonny offered, following the two women out the door.

When the door clicked shut, Rafael slid his hand into yours and squeezed gently. He shook his head from side to side as tears fell, trying to put on his best smile for you. One you wouldn’t ever see again.

“Carisi. Always got food on the mind.” He laughed weakly, pressing his lips against your knuckles.

Rafael lost it right there. Hard, rough sobs shook his body. He tried to be as quiet as he could but that was impossible.

“Why..” He asked your almost lifeless body, the only thing indicating your life being a few steady beats, “Why did you have to play hero, Carino? You’re-” Hiccup “You’re not fucking Superman.”

He sat down in the chair next to your bed and continued to sob. If you could hear him in your condition, you would be crying along with him. How dare you be so stupid? You were told twice, twice, to not do that. But to you, that family was safe.

He forced himself to stand up, not once letting go of your hand as he pressed a gentle kiss on your bruise colored lips.

One Week Later

For the funeral, Rafael made sure you were in your favorite outfit. A nice (F/C) pouf dress with matching flats. He had to fight to get you to not be buried in your uniform. It was placed just below your feet along with your wedding dress and veil. Your hair had been slicked back and lightly curled and they gave you a natural make-up look with rosy lips. Rafael almost broke down again with how stunning you looked. Almost how you looked on your first date with him.

He had insisted on taking you out for breakfast and you wore a cute plaid tank top with jean shorts. You didn’t even look like you worked for the NYPD, but he didn’t care. He fell in love with you from the moment he laid eyes on you.

After the funeral, the group stayed back to honor you privately. Amanda had her girls dressed up and Olivia did the same for Noah. Noah let go of Olivia’s hand though to hug Rafael.

“Don’t cry, Uncle Rafa. It’s okay.”

Rafael smiled fondly at Noah’s sweet, innocent words. He wiped his eyes with a tissue and looked down at Noah. He patted Noah on the back and he went back to Olivia. Rafael pressed a kiss to his wedding ring he had made and then laid his hand on your coffin. A weak smile snuck onto his face before he whispered,

“Te quiero mucho, (Y/N)....Barba.”

#rafael barba #rafael barba oneshot #rafael barba x reader #rafael barba x you #raul esparza #law and order svu #law and order special victims unit #law and order x reader #law and order special victims unit oneshot #angst #heavy angst #death

93 notes · View notes

peppersonironi · 4 years ago

Text

For @duketectivecomics‘s Duke Week Day Five: Leadership (A day late, I know, but I had wifi trouble)

Summary: Nightwing offers Signal a chance to lead a small group for a mission. Duke is wary, but accepts the challenge. He proves to be a rather great leader.

Notes: Takes place after Season Two of Young Justice, and ignores Season Three (I still haven’t seen it, unfortunately).

“So will you do it?” Duke looked over at Dick, who had decided to brave the day as Nightwing in order to ask a favor.

“I’m not sure, Nightwing, That’s your team, and I’m perfectly happy taking care of Gotham.”

Dick pouted and dramatically flung himself over the nearest gargoyle. “You sure? I could really use the help. Don't you want to lend aid to your poor, poor brother?”

“You are literally a billionaire.”

“Ha ha, Signal. You know what I mean.”

Duke sighed and joined Dick beside the gargoyle. “Yeah, I do. Are you sure you need me? Why not Tim? Steph? Heck, even Damian would love the chance to boos those guys around.”

Dick sighed. “I told you, The mission occurs at the same time as one on the opposite side of the world, which I already have Tim scheduled for. Steph is woking a case in Hong Kong with Cass. And Frankly, I doubt the Team would appreciate Damian's … style of leadership. This one is smaller, and less of a priority. I have some of the newbies and more older members on it, but none of them have experience with leading stealth missions.”

“So give one of them the experience!” Duke was getting a bit exasperated. Why did Dick think it would be a good idea to handle a mission on a covert team he'd never even met before?

“It's not that simple.” Dick frowned. “This mission is time sensitive, and delicate. It really does need someone with experience leading it, but all my best people are elsewhere.”

Duke tilted his head, considering. “Why me?”

Dick laughed. “Why NOT you? Seriously, Signal. You handled a whole group of Robins, by yourself. No Batman. You proved yourself, and you've earned respect. I trust you with this.”

Duke considered, thinking through everything Dick had said. “Alright,” He sighed, “What's the mission?”

*****

“Team, I'd like you to meet Signal. He'll be joining you on the mission, as well as over seeing things.” Nightwing stood at the front of the group of heroes, turning to where Duke had just come in from the zeta tubes.

Duke walked forward, surveying the group. “ 'Sup?” He asked, unsure of what else to say.

“Signal, meet Beast Boy, Kid Flash, Wonder Girl, and Blue Beatle.”

Duke nodded and extended his hand, “Nice to meet you.”

“I've been waiting to meet you for so long, dude!” Kid Flash said, racing forward to shake Duke's hand. “I've heard all about you, but the dates on when you actively joined the guys in Gotham were murky, and since I couldn't ask Nightwing or Robin – wait, does that mean Tim's no longer Robin? Why didn't he say anything? Unless the history books got it wrong, in which case woah, sorry I said anything – anyway it was a bit of a tricky situation. Of course, I probably could have looked it up on the internet, but that feels like cheating y'know?”

Duke blinked several times. “Um, thanks, I guess? I didn't really think anyone bothered with me.”

“Are you kidding?!” Kid Flash was literally bouncing at this point. “You're one of the coolest bats! You patrol during the day, for one thing, plus your costume is pretty crash. Not to mention you're literally the only meta human Batman has ever let stay in Gotham! Although Black Bat might be one, no one was ever really clear on that.”

“You're a meta human?!” Beast Boy asked, shoving Kid Flash to the side. “Seriously? And you work with Batman?! How does that work?”

Duke laughed. “Yes, I am a meta. No, Black Bat isn't. She's just awesome. And I was Batman's protege before I gained my powers. When we found out, we kinda just rolled with it.”

“Translation,” Nightwing added, “He grumbled a bit before deciding that the rule only really covers Green Lantern.”

“Didn't it always though?” Duke asked his brother.

Nightwing laughed. “Probably. He never seemed to keen on Superman either, to be honest.”

Duke frowned. “Wait, then why did he stop by for tea last week?”

“Wait, he did?! Why wasn't I invited?!”

Duke shook his head and tsked. “Downside to no longer living at the house dude, that's all I'm saying.”

The Team was looking back and forth at the exchange. “Wait,” Blue Beatle said, holding up his hands. “Superman comes over for tea, at Batman's house, which you live in, but Nightwing doesn't anymore?”

“Yup,” Both of the bats said.

Blue Beatle blinked, then nodded. “Alright then.”

“What are your powers,” Wonder girl asked.

“Light stuff, basically,” Duke said. “I can see in several different light spectrums, lets me do a bunch of stuff, like limited x-ray vision. I can also 'replay' what happens in rooms, due to the light residue. I can also see a few seconds into the future.”

Everyone blinked at him.

“Not to mention you can control shadows!” Nightwing added helpfully.

Duke cringed. “Yeah, but that's new. I'm not really familiar with it.”

Everyone stared, except Kid Flash, who just continued bouncing.

“Alright,” Nightwing said after a moment, “Let's get on with the briefing.”

*****

The mission was simple: Infiltrate a high rise owned by Lex Luther in San Francisco, and retrieve information that was being stored on a hard drive. Said drive was only going to be present in the tower for twelve hours, nine of which Lex was also present. Hence the need for a small team, and the precise timing.

The infiltration was scheduled at 1400 hours, after Lex had left for lunch, and before the buyer of the information had arrived. Duke had been given the plans of the building, and multiple suggested strategies. One of these strategies was modified by Duke, and was what led Beast Boy (who insisted Duke call him Garth) turning into a fly in order to get through the vents.

“Are you sure I can't go for something more fun?” Garth asked on the way to San Francisco, “Like a snake? Maybe even a monkey!”

“No,” Duke had said, “A fly is the best option, it's the least likely to set off motion sensors.” At the disappointed face, however, Duke conceded, “You can be a monkey when you open the side entrance.” Garth had whooped in triumph, and Duke had to crack a smile.

Once Beast Boy had managed to get into the building, he made his way to the main security center and dismantled whatever detection systems Lex had in place, allowing Kid Flash (Bart, Duke learned) and Signal himself to make their entrance. The trio made their way to Lex's office, only needing to take out a single guard, and retrieve the hard drive from one of Lex's many (There were like thirty, sheesh) safes in the room. The cracking of said safe took longer than initially planned, but Duke managed to hack the system in time for the guard change. Boy was he glad Tim taught him how to hack.

With the target in hand, they made their way out to the back alley, where Blue Beatle (Jaime, he said his name was) and Wonder Girl (Cassie) were keeping watch. They were almost caught at one point, but Duke saw the guards coming and quickly shoved his teammates into a closet, along with himself. In the end, two guards who were lagging behind on their shift change intercepted them, but Blue Beetle knocked one out, and Wonder Girl got the other.

“Took you long enough,” Cassie said with a grin when she saw the trio returning.

Duke grinned right back at her. “You have any trouble?”

“If these two count as trouble,” She replied, kicking one of the goons.

“Sounds crash!” Kid Flash replied. “How about we get out of here before something blows up?”

Duke frowned. “Why would anything blow up?”

Everyone turned and gave him a look. “You'd be surprised,” Blue Beetle said.

“Better not jinx it, then.” Duke spook, and the team made their escape.

*****

“ - Complete insubordination! Do you know what you did?!”

Duke paused at the doors, looking in on the meeting room where he and the others were supposed to go for their debriefing. Turns out, the other part of the Team was already there, and being chewed out by Batman himself.

“This was supposed to be a covert mission, and you go and get the entire building blown up!” Huh, they weren't kidding about explosions, Duke thought. “You clearly disobeyed the mission parameters, opting instead to joyride with the robots you were sent to destroy! Do you know how many lives you put in danger?!”

“It wasn't our fault!” Tim Drake, better known as Red Robin (Though Duke thought Bart mention that he still went as Robin here? Boy, Damian was gonna be pissed!) told Batman. “The robots got activated remotely, and dragged us along. In the end, they self destructed!”

Batman sighed, and muttered something that sounded suspiciously like “I let Kaldur go one one vacation …”

“You can at least acknowledge we got the job done.” Tim said, and Bruce sighed once more. He looked so tired, and Duke could barely hold in a grin. From the scared faces of everyone else in the room, Duke gathered that no one else found it quite so funny.

“Yes, you got it done,” Batman conceded, “But your methods are far from acceptable! All of you need to reevaluate how you-”

“It's almost kinda funny when I'm not the one being chewed out!” Duke turned to find Jaime and Garth standing in the door beside him, the latter of whom had spoken.

“Oh it's definitely funny,” Duke replied. “I've had front row seats to these types of things since I joined the bats. I”m almost never the one in trouble. Surprised it's Tim, though. Usually Nightwing.”

Both of their eyes widened. “Nightwing is the one in trouble?”

“Yup. We – the other bats and I – have a running bet on how long the rants last. B's best record is two hours, fifty minutes, thirty-seven seconds. It was right after Nightwing spray painted the bat-suit glittery pink, though I'm pretty sure Spoiler helped.”

Jaime opened and closed his mouth for a few moments. “Wow.”

Just then, Bart and Cassie showed up. “Are we late for the debriefing?” The latter asked.

Duke shrugged and pointed into the room, where Batman had moved onto a rant about aerial combat and unneeded fuel. “Nope, There's is running late.”

The group turned and went back to viewing the scene before them. After another fifteen minutes, Batman said. “I have another team coming in soon for debriefing, so let's hope that they were at least partially competent.”

Duke thought that would be as good a place as any to make an entrance, so he brought his fist to his mouth and coughed a bit.

Everyone turned slowly to find the grinning group standing at the doorway.

“Signal,” Batman said, and Duke knew he was relieved, “Did you just get back?”

“We've been standing here for twenty minutes, B. Seriously, your lecturing skills have not gone unpracticed.”

Batman sighed, putting his fingers on the bridge of his nose, not a sight unfamiliar to Duke, but from the gaping mouths, Duke was pretty sure no one else thought anything about the exchange was normal. “Please tell me your mission went well?”

“Without a hitch,” Duke replied grinning. “We got in and out easily. Had a tad of trouble with hacking the safe, but we got it open.” Duke turned to Tim, “Thanks for those lessons last week, they really paid off.”

Tim grinned “Welcome. Wanna continue when we get home?”

Duke nodded. “Sounds good.”

“Were there any complications?” Batman growled.

“We took out three guards quietly, and avoided two more that I saw coming right before they turned a corner, but other than that, no.”

Batman glared suspiciously down at Duke, who only smiled. “Any explosions?”

Duke frowned. “What is it with this team and explosions?” Batman glared some more, “Calm down B, no explosions. Everything was quiet.”

Batman nodded. “Good job, Signal. You dropped off the target with Nightwing, I assume?” At Duke's nod, he continued, “You get head back to Gotham, then. Finish your report in the cave, and finish up your patrol if you want. I'll make a note on the file if we ever need you again.” He paused, and looked critically at Duke. “Would you?”

Duke looked back at Garth, Jaime, Bart, and Cassie, who were all nodding their heads furiously. “Sure,” Duke said, “Why not?”

#dukeweek2020 #duke thomas #the signal #Young Justice #Nightwing #Beast Boy #Kid Flash #Wonder Girl #blue beatle #leadership

40 notes · View notes

surlybobbies · 5 years ago

Text

For the Love of the Game [deancas, 1.5k, T]

Summary:

“A tense moment on the field between good friends. Novak has taken Dean Winchester’s legs out from under him - did he get the ball? What do you think, Joe? Yellow card?”

“Looks like he just about got the ball to me. Fair challenge. Though judging by his reaction, it looks like Winchester doesn’t agree."

(Dean and Cas over the course of three years as players of opposing soccer teams.)

Author’s notes: written in the 90 minutes it took to watch a soccer game at 1am. I’m a sucker for athlete Dean and Cas.

Read on ao3 or

“Of course, Winchester and Novak have known each other since they were kids. Best friends, these two, off the pitch. On the pitch, however, as I’m sure we’ll see today, is a different story.”

The loss is a difficult one to take; it means that Cas and his team are now on the bottom half of the league table, a position they haven’t been in for well over a decade.

After the final whistle, Dean jogs to Cas, whose hands are clutching at his hair in disbelief. Dean puts his hands around Cas’s face, forcing Cas to look at him. “You okay?”

Cas closes his eyes and grits his teeth. He’s probably thinking about the goal Dean had scored just 10 minutes before the final whistle, and how he’d been unable to prevent it. “I will be.”

Dean sighs and pulls Cas in for a rough hug. “I’ll tell mom you’re coming over this weekend.”

“How long is she in town?”

“Just a week,” Dean says. “She’ll want to see you.”

Cas shoves him away and scrubs his face with both hands. “Just let me know.”

“Apparently they stay at each other’s bachelor pads over holidays.”

It’s been coming for years, but when Cas pulls Dean in for a kiss on Christmas, it’s still a surprise. Dean takes a few moments to fully register what’s happening, that Cas is really finally kissing him, but once it sinks in, he is definitely on board with the developments, and he pushes Cas against the wall and starts to thoroughly enjoy himself.

A century later, Cas pulls away. “This is unwise,” he says breathlessly.

Dean’s dizzy with Cas’s touch. He touches Cas’s face because he can’t stand not touching him. “You started it,” he says, all he can think of to say.

Cas frowns a little bit, but his nostrils flare with how hard he’s breathing. “How I got here, kissing an absolute idiot, I have no idea.”

“You’ve also got a hand up my shirt,” Dean supplies unhelpfully, “if you wanted to get around to removing that.”

Cas arches an eyebrow, and Dean likes it. “Do you want me to remove it?” Cas asks, leaning in again, dragging his hand down to Dean’s waistband at an agonizingly slow pace.

Dean’s hopeless - absolutely done for. “Definitely not.”

“Good,” Cas growls, and Dean likes that a lot.

“Their rivalry seems to fuel their friendship - or is it the other way around?”

“Just to be clear, this doesn’t mean I’m going to take it easy on you this Saturday,”

Dean’s lounging, one hand behind his head, watching the progress of Cas’s lips down his chest with lidded eyes. “Wouldn’t love you if you did.”

There’s a long pause. Cas lifts his eyes to watch Dean’s expression, but it doesn’t waver. The only sign of nerves is in the way his throat moves. Cas acknowledges the word with a small smile and a lingering kiss to the center of Dean’s chest. Later, he’ll murmur the word over and over and over into Dean’s hair, his hands on Dean’s ass, encouraging him, and Dean will swell and break with it.

“A tense moment between good friends. Novak has taken Dean Winchester’s legs out from under him - did he get the ball? What do you think, Joe? Yellow card?”

“Looks like he just about got the ball to me. Fair challenge. Though it looks like Winchester doesn’t seem to agree.”

“Could have broken my leg, Cas,” Dean spits.

Cas is adjusting his shin pads. He looks up at Dean. “Hardly - it was a fair challenge.”

Dean gets up right in his face when Cas straightens. Cas has seen this face in the throes of pleasure and he knows he’ll see it again; he lifts his chin and smirks, knowing how much Dean will hate it.

“Also, ref begs to differ,” Cas says, winking. “No foul.”

“Jesus, you’re a cocky bastard.”

“And you’re a shit striker.”

“You shouldn’t even be on the field with a challenge like that.”

Cas is getting back into position, walking backwards so he can throw one last remark at Dean: “You shouldn’t even be on the field with skills like that.”

Dean’s face turns red. “What’d you just say?”

In the end the ref has to separate them; no cards are shown, but neither of them talk to the other for two weeks.

It goes without saying that the eventual make-up sex is fantastic.

“It’s Novak’s last game for the Angels - he’ll be officially retired at the end of these 90 minutes, aged 35. Fitting that his greatest rival and friend should be on the pitch with him, albeit playing for the opposition.”

Cas is subbed at 87 minutes for his last ovation from the home crowd. They adore him as he adores them, and Dean knows this last walk off the field has got to be an emotionally harrowing moment for Cas.

Dean hopes his fans won’t give him too much shit for what he does next: he pulls Cas in for a rough hug as Cas walks to the touchline to be subbed. He doesn’t look Cas in the eye, and shoves him away before either of them do something stupid like cry.

“Back for the second half of the first game of the season, and Dean Winchester’s 37th minute goal is the only thing separating the two sides.

As most know, Winchester announced over the break that he and his best friend and former Angels player Cas Novak have been dating. There’s been quite a bit of backlash, mostly from fans who think their relationship has swayed their performances over the years, but both Winchester’s manager and Novak’s former manager have laughed off that particular suggestion. What do you think, Greg?”

“No, they’ve both been consummate professionals, haven’t they, over the years? Obviously good friends - well, we know why now - but it never stopped either of them from giving it their all on the pitch.”

“They both loved the game too much to let anything affect it.”

It’s not fun, being the only player in the league out of the closet. His teammates don’t treat him any differently, but Dean sometimes feels like he’s slowly being frozen out.

“It’s because you didn’t say anything to us.”

“What the hell was I supposed to say, Benny? ‘I’m fucking a guy, and it’s Cas Novak’?”

Benny sighs. “I don’t know, Dean. They just want to know their captain’s being honest with them. Sleeping with the opposition is pretty shady, alright?”

Dean hangs his head. He understands. He’s still pissed, still frustrated, but he makes up his mind. He slams his locker to get everyone’s attention. “Just figured you all would want to know,” he says loudly, a little angrily, “I’m asking Cas to marry me tonight.”

Stunned silence. Dean stares them all down, daring any of them to say anything. If he has to knock someone out for talking shit about Cas, he swears he’ll do it and damn the consequences.

But nothing happens. Ash grins, scratching his neck. “We’re invited to the wedding, right?”

The laughter that follows breaks the ice. Dean tries and fails to stop himself from crying when they all come forward to congratulate him.

“Dean Winchester made history by marrying Cas Novak over the break. It’s a great moment in sport, but he’s opened up in a recent interview regarding the homophobic abuse he and his husband have received.”

“A shame that. The sport needs to do more to support their LGBTQ+ players.”

“Agreed. But despite all that, Winchester says he’s proud to lead the way for others to come out in his wake. Plus, his husband is here to watch his first game of the season, so that must make up for it somewhat.”

“He’s probably not happy to see Novak in Angel colors, though!”

“The rivalry lives on!”

“Who wants to bet that it’ll be a tense atmosphere in the Novak-Winchester home tonight?”

Cas is solemn as he greets Dean at the door of their home, but Dean scowls at him anyway. “Don’t think I didn’t see you cheering when they scored.”

Cas looks a little abashed. “They’re my friends, Dean.”

“I’m your husband.”

Cas hides his smile in Dean’s neck. “And I love you.” He wraps his arms around Dean so he can’t wriggle away. “But I also love my team. My fans would have rioted if I’d shown up in your jersey.”

Dean doesn’t bother arguing. He played for the full 90, and the emotional toll of the loss is just now sinking in. “I’m ready to go to bed,” he says, his voice raw.

“Alright,” Cas says, kissing Dean on the cheek. “I’ll be there soon.”

Dean is half asleep when Cas walks in wearing Dean’s jersey and a pair of sweatpants - then Dean’s suddenly wide-awake and half-hard.

Cas gets under the covers and leans over Dean, smelling like shampoo and toothpaste. “Good night,” he says cheerfully.

Dean stares at his husband, marveling at the audacity. Finally, he says, “You’re such a jackass,” but diminishes the effect by pulling Cas in roughly by the front of the shirt and kissing him, much to Cas’s delight.

_____________ tag list:

@super-powerful-queen-slayyna @lifeisingrey @fangirlingtodeath513 @levicastho @dontlosethemoon @dmsilvisart @hello-vague-stuff @bold-sartorial-statement @snarkysnartes @massivefaceperson @dontlosethemoon @livebloggingmydescentintomadness @yourspecialeyes @misha-moose-dean-burger-lover @profoundnet

(if you’ve asked me to put you on the tag list and i haven’t I’M SO SORRY i was bombarded with a bunch of notifs and may have missed it… send me an ask - replies sometimes get buried esp if you don’t reply on the original post - and i’ll update the list!)

#profoundnet #surlybobbies #deancas fic #destiel fic #deancas #destiel #sports au #athlete au #soccer au #referenced homophobia #friends to lovers #happy ending

120 notes · View notes

vixensheart · 5 years ago

Text

Butter or No?

Sticky ass tables are the worst.

Katsuki scrubs the offending mystery sticky shit with a worn, threadbare washrag. It’s not coming off, and he grits his teeth and growls. Fucking shitty ass parents, not watching their damn kids. Somehow, Katsuki knows it’s the kids’ fault, here. It’s always the kids that make a mess in the theater. It doesn’t even matter where, either- in the auditorium, the mini arcade, the fucking lobby- kids are little shits that cause chaos wherever they go.

He huffs a sigh and sprays more soapy disinfectant shit onto the mess to let it soak a bit. Then he scrubs again, harder this time. The little round table rattles a bit under the force, but the sticky shit’s coming off so Katsuki doesn’t stop until it's gone.

“Damn, dude, you good over there?”

Katsuki’s head whips up. Across from him, some dude’s watching him with raised brows and a wry grin. He glowers. “M’fine.” It takes a bit of restraint to keep from flipping the dude off, but Katsuki really doesn’t feel like getting bitched at again by Iida. So he bites the inside of his cheek and attempts to resume scrubbing. Except mister fucking chatterbox has apparently decided to ignore Katsuki’s rather blatant cold shoulder.

“You sure? You kind of look like you’re about to break that table.”

His temple throbs. Fucking hell. Is it too damn much to ask to just be left alone? Katsuki grits his teeth and huffs again and decides fuck it, it’s clean enough anyway. He stalks off without another word, because any other words used would definitely have curses in them, and as Iida constantly wails at him, it’s apparently frowned upon to use such words.

“Well, bye, then…” mister dumbass mumbles, and Katsuki stops. Fucking asshole, what, did he want a fight? He tosses a glare over his shoulder, snark at the ready, only to pause. And stare. Because oh. Oh, fuck. Dumbass mcLoudmouth is...actually kind of really hot.

Even slouched in his chair, Katsuki can tell he’s built as fuck, with arms muscular enough that he could probably crush his head open with his biceps and Katsuki would thank him. He’s got a nice jawline, wide, pretty eyes, and a head of ridiculously styled, firetruck red hair. It’s all spiked up with some sort of gel, and would look atrocious, yet this dude’s somehow pulling it off. It almost pisses Katsuki off.

Almost.

He sighs and turns to the table beside him, giving it a squirt from his disinfectant bottle. “Why’re you sitting out here by your damn self, anyway?” Katsuki asks, voice low. The guy perks up.

“Oh. Well, uh, I’m meeting someone! Or, I was supposed to…” He deflates, and looks at his phone. “I guess they’re running late... They were supposed to be here twenty minutes ago.” Hot guy looks absolutely miserable, and Katsuki feels something twist in his chest at the sight. Fuck. Katsuki doesn’t even know this guy’s name, and he’s already ready to punch someone in the face, just for causing that frown.

What the fuck even.

“Well, why don’t you call them, or whatever?” he mutters, as he swipes the rag haphazardly over the already cleaned table. That he wiped down ten minutes ago. It’s fine. Fuck off.

Hot guy chuckles, but it’s hollow. “I would, but uh. I don’t have their number? It’s a date…” He rubs the back of his neck, rueful, and sighs. “I met them on a dating app my friends made me try. And, well. I guess I’m a bit nervous?”

Katsuki bites his lip. Of course he’d be here for a date. The dude’s hot. And as much as Katsuki is loath to admit it, he can’t entirely quell the bubbles of disappointment in his chest. Which is stupid. He’s wearing a shitty-ass red polo that reeks of popcorn butter and sweat, and he’s cleaning tables. What chance in hell would he even have to begin with? So, Katsuki swipes at the too clean table and grunts. “The fuck’re you nervous about? It’s just a date. Buy them popcorn and hold their hand and shit.”

Hot guy laughs, real and genuine this time, and goddamn, is it a pretty sound. Katsuki’s no poet, but fuck, it’s like all the mushy shit they talk about in the cheesy-ass romcoms they play every summer. Gross. He hates how much he likes it, how much he already wants to hear it again. Katsuki flushes and tries to hide the fact with a scowl.

“Thanks, dude. I’ll, uh, try, I guess.” He beams at Katsuki, as if his beautiful laugh didn’t already strike arrows through his heart. “Oh, I’m Kirishima, by the way,” he says. “Thanks for humoring me.”

Katsuki throws the towel up onto his shoulder and shrugs. “S’whatever.” He turns to stalk off again, because he’s at work, dammit, only to pause again. “Bakugou,” he mutters over his shoulder. Out of the corner of his eye, Kirishima perks up.

“Huh?”

He scoffs. Fucking dumbass. “My name, shitty hair,” he says. He doesn’t really wait for a response, this time, and storms off instead, face heated. Katsuki feels like he’s got a bunch of stinging nettles rattling around in his stomach, and it’s fucking embarrassing how much he wamts to turn back around and try to fumble his way through asking Kirishima out. But he’s working, and Kirishima’s here for a date with someone else anyway.

So Katsuki stomps his way back to the supply closet and trades his rag and spray bottle for a damn broom and dustpan.

Time to sweep some fucking auditoriums.

Forty-five minutes and two cleaned auditoriums later, and Katsuki’s trudging his way back to the lobby, bent broom in hand.

“Iida’s gonna kill you for breaking the broom. Again.” Jirou snaps her gum, gaze glued to her phone as she trails behind him. Katsuki huffs. He has half a mind to chuck said broom at her, but it’d be a waste of effort.

“S’not my fault guests are fucking gross,” he says. It’s the truth. There was so much goddamn popcorn on the floors and under the seats, it’s like no one actually ate the damn stuff. So of course he had to sweep that shit up. And it’s pretty fucking hard to get the broom under the chairs so. He bent his broom.

Again.

“Put mine away too, and I won’t say anything,” Jirou says, holding hers out to him. She doesn’t even look up from her phone, the bitch. Katsuki grinds his teeth. He wants to tell her to shove it, but this is the twelfth broom he’s bent while sweeping, and Iida really gets up in his damn business about that sort of shit. So, Katsuki swipes it from her with a growl. Jirou looks up at him from beneath her thick, purple bangs and grins. “Thanks.” She pops a bubble and turns on her heel, leaving Katsuki alone in front of the damn supply closet.

Stupid fucking coworkers, being lazy and shit. He knows she’s texting her damn boyfriend and girlfriend in their weird little group chat instead of actually working. She does it all the damn time. But her girlfriend is friends with Iida, so she gets away with that shit. Which. Is bullshit.

Katsuki yanks open the door and tosses both sets of brooms and their dustpans inside, hardly caring if the contents spill out or not. He can always blame fucking Mineta, if he has to. Damn pervy asshole is always getting on everyone’s nerves anyway. He slams the door shut and drags his way back to the lobby.

It’s quiet, now.

He can hear the tinkering of the soft classical music Iida insists on playing, claiming that it’s “professional” and “calming”, or some shit. Katsuki doesn’t really buy it- he’s been yelled at enough by one too many angry guests over dumb shit like popcorn. If the music was as calming as he claimed, that sort of bullshit wouldn’t happen.

Katsuki sighs, gaze sweeping across the many empty tables, checking for any garbage, when a blaze of red hair snags his focus. His brows furrow, and he whips his phone out to check the time.

Eight o’fucking clock. And Kirishima’s still here…? Katsuki frowns. He thought the guy had a date. Why the hell is he slouched over the table like he’s asleep? Unless…

Something dark twists in his chest, and Katsuki finds himself striding over towards shitty haired-muscle boy before he can stop himself. Kirishima doesn’t seem to notice his approach. He’s sprawled across the tabletop, cheek squished into it, phone laying face up beside his nose. There’s a soft snore accompanying the rise and fall of his shoulders; he’s really asleep. Damn. Katsuki clasps his shoulder and gives him a shake. “Hey, shitty hair.”

Kirishima groans, face scrunching cutely. He blinks awake and shifts, sitting up. “Bakugou?” And, oh. His voice is rough, making Katsuki’s heart thud in his chest. He gulps.

“You fell asleep.”

Kirishima’s eyes go wide at that. “Oh!” He taps his phone with a frown that only deepens as he gazes down at it. “Oh.” His shoulders slump. “I...I guess they’re not coming, huh?”

And fuck. Katsuki stares as Kirishima droops, that painful twisting ratcheting up a few notches. Kirishima runs a hand through his hair and huffs a pained laugh. “I guess it’s a good thing I waited to buy tickets, huh?” he asks, voice wobbling. The next chuckle is wet, sad, and Kirishima reaches up to scrub at his face. “Otherwise...I-it would have been a waste…”

It’s instinct that has him reaching out, again. Katsuki grazes his fingers on his shoulder once more in some vain attempt to comfort. Which. Hell, Katsuki is bad at this sort of shit. But there’s a burning need to try that he can’t quite explain.

His gaze darts back up to the digitized showtime board. There’s another showing of...some dumbass action movie in like. Ten minutes. An idea, a stupid, weird, dumb idea blossoms in Katsuki’s mind, and he grabs Kirishima by the wrist and tugs. “C’mere,” he says. He tugs again, and Kirishima fumbles to his feet and lets Katsuki drag him over to the ticket counter.

“Hey, earphones!”

Jirou looks up at him from the stool she’s perched on, brow raised. “What?” She snaps her gum, looking very unimpressed.

“I...I need two courtesy tickets or whatever to the next showing of…” He trails off and squints up at the board. “Cars and Explosions.”

He’s met with an incredulous look. “You can’t be serious right now.”

“Does it fucking look like I’m joking?” Katsuki snaps. He sighs. “Look, I’m off in ten minutes, anyway.” Which is the fucking truth, and Jirou knows it. She looks from Katsuki to Kirishima, who’s lingering behind him like a lost puppy, arm limp in Katsuki’s grasp. He’s not sure what Jirou sees, but something in her expression softens, and she shrugs.

“Whatever. Just make sure you clock out on time.” There’s a bit of typing, and then she’s thrusting two tickets at him with a sigh. Katsuki takes them and drags Kirishima away, muttering his thanks under his breath. He knows she hears it, because she doesn’t try to give him shit. Which.

Thank fuck. Because Katsuki kind of has no idea what he’s doing.

“Uh...dude?” Kirishima tugs his arm a bit. “What’re we doing?” They’ve stopped at concessions, and Katsuki turns to peer at his unwitting companion. Kirishima’s brows are notched, bottom lip poking out in a pout- he looks cute, and Katsuki wants to scream. He huffs and gestures to the snacks.

“Pick something.”

Kirishima looks from him to the snacks, and back again. “Um…popcorn, I guess? But, dude-”

Katsuki jumps the counter. Yeah, sure, maybe it’s dramatic, but hey. He didn’t feel like walking around, and he sure as fuck doesn’t want to figure out where Koda is. Besides, if you want shit done, you’ve gotta do it yourself, or whatever. So, he grabs a popcorn bag and starts scooping some into it.

“Bakugou, dude!” Kirishima’s gawking at him with wide eyes. “Seriously, what are you doing?”

“The fuck does it look like?” Katsuki says. He makes a point to scoop an egregiously large shovel full of popcorn and stuffs it into the bag. “Butter or no?”

Kirishima just chews on his lip and looks around. “Is this even allowed?” He looks a bit like a kid caught with a hand in the cookie jar, which is both adorable and irritating. Because like, fucking hell. He’s not doing anything wrong. Neither of them are.

“You didn’t answer my question, dumbass.” Katsuki sighs, and tosses the scoop back into its cradle. His gaze lingers over Kirishima’s flushed face, and he sighs again. “I’m not a damn delinquent, I am paying for this shit. Now tell me what you want or I’m just gonna dowse it in butter.”

“Y-yeah, uh, butter is great.”

Thank fuck. Katsuki can’t stand assholes that insist on no butter. Like, that’s the whole damn point of popcorn. No butter means the salt isn’t going to stick, and while heavy salt is gross, Katsuki needs some flavor on that shit. So, he pumps some butter into the popcorn and expertly sprinkles in some salt. “You want any drinks or whatever?” He glances at Kirishima, who just shakes his head. Katsuki shrugs. “Suit yourself.” He swipes a small cup and fills it with some coke, because he’s tired as fuck, sue him.

One quick transaction later, and Katsuki’s dragging Kirishima to the theater. Or, pushing him. It’s pretty fucking empty, too, with a single couple in the middle and some dude in one of the front few rows. Katsuki leads Kirishima all the way to the top, right beneath the projector, because that’s the best spot. Fuck off. He flops down into the cushioned chair, Kirishima settling in beside him.

“You...you didn’t have to do this, ya’ know.”

Kirishima’s voice is soft, quiet enough that Katsuki almost misses him speak. He pointedly trains his focus on the cheesy pre-show scrolling across the screen, face heating up. “Just sit down and watch the movie,” he mutters. Kirishima hums, but doesn’t say anything. His gaze lingers, though, and Katsuki can feel the warmth of it. He shifts a bit, blushing even harder.

“I wanted to,” he says then, after a moment.

“Why?”

It’s the million dollar question of the night. Why the fuck does he even care? But then he looks at Kirishima, and his heart stutters in his chest, and he jerks his gaze away again for fear of a heart attack or some shit. “Your sad mug was pissing me off.” It’s a safe answer, but the sharp breath tells Katsuki that Kirishima understood what he meant.

I wanted to make you smile.

The lights darken and the movie starts. There’s a gentle touch on his hand, and Katsuki’s gaze jerks to see Kirishima sliding their hands together. And, oh, shit. His heart pounds, and an unsteady smile warms his lips.

END

#kiribaku #kiribaku week 2020 #day one #bnha #my hero academia

49 notes · View notes

hellas-himself · 5 years ago

Text

@sorry-im-an-aries asked for a Mob Au. And I PROMISE I am not abandoning my fics, but I welcomed the mental break from everything else. It probably doesn’t make sense, but when I’m working on a bunch of stuff at once, I can focus better? Anyway. This was super fun and it’ll probably be a few chapters long (because why not). With my kid back to school, I’ll probably be able to going back to updating stuff frequently. Y’all know how terrible I am at titles so it’s free game if anyone wants to name it lol

The Present

I did this for you...

The first gun shot made me jump, and I hoped to god no one noticed. To my luck, everyone- even Luce- was focused on Tamlin and the lifeless body on the floor.

I did this...

The second gunshot forced me to stand up a little straighter, schooling my features into that of cool indifference. They looked up to Tam for his strength, his fearlessness. If I wanted to keep my place at his side, I had to be just as strong. Just as fearless.

I…

The third gunshot sounded and I was no longer in the abandoned warehouse, but in a mansion in the suburbs. Overturned tables and broken glass. Two dead at my feet, my gun pointed at her even as she laughed and called me nobody. Worthless. And maybe she was right. But it was her or Tamlin.

Bronn and Hart were ordered to get rid of the bodies, the sound bringing me back to the present. Before I could speak Tamlin was already telling Lucien to take me home. As Luce placed a hand to the small of my back, I turned to find Tamlin leading Ianthe out another way. Once, this would have broken me. I would have made a scene. But I knew better now.

Lucien was quiet on the drive home, but I noticed him looking back at me through the mirror. It was silly to look for decency in a world of mobsters and crooked men. But Lucien was decent.

“Hey, are you alright?” he asked quietly.

“I just want to go to sleep,” I replied. A blatant lie, one I used far too often. But Lucien had been there, he knew what I had done just to keep Tamlin safe. Lucien said nothing else until he parked the car outside of the house. Two guards stood out front and greeted us before Lucien unlocked the door. We walked inside. I started to go up the stairs and stopped when Lucien called my name.

“He just wants to keep you safe,” he said and I scoffed.

“Yeah, the way he’s keeping Ianthe safe every night.”

“It’s not like that.”

“He wouldn’t have you defending him if it wasn’t.”

I continued on and I made my way upstairs to my room. Because Tamlin still refused to share his with me. But that didn’t matter anymore.

I pulled my jacket off and tossed it on the dresser. I took my time untying the laces of my boots, the buttons of my shirt. Tamlin didn’t come to my room anymore, and that was alright. It didn’t matter anymore, either.

“You’re slacking,” I said in a teasing voice as I heard my bedroom door open and close. The lock click. I looked at Lucien through the mirror, my heart near aching at the way he smiled at me.

“That was quite the performance,” Lucien said and I rolled my eyes.

“You forgot to promise to talk to him on my behalf,” I said in jest.

“Well, Tamlin isn’t coming home tonight and he asked me to make sure you didn’t notice.”

I laughed, a sound reserved solely for him. For him and-

“Rhys called,” Lucien said as he approached me, placing his hands on my shoulders. “It’s as if he knew, somehow, that tonight had been… trying.”

“How? When?”

“Just right after Tamlin hung up on me. Don’t worry, we were both careful.”

I nodded, unable to fight the tears that stung my eyes. Lucien’s hands trailed down the sides of my arms until he held my hands.

“Soon,” he whispered. “I promise.”

He kissed away the tears, a gesture that reminded me so much of Rhys I wasted no time in guiding Lucien towards the bed.

“Come on. You have to make sure I don’t notice Tamlin isn’t home,” I teased.

“I can think of a few things,” Lucien said, pulling me into his arms.

***

One Year Ago

I hated closing the bar and having to walk home alone at night. Truth be told, it didn’t matter what time of day it was. This godforsaken town was a nightmare. It was full of naïve man children who liked to play at mafia, as if the great families of Prythian would resort to robbing old ladies in pure daylight, breaking into peoples’ cars and coming to the bar every night to get shit faced and talk about all the stupid things they did. But it was enough for me to keep a knife on me everywhere I went.

I fumbled with the keys to the house, cursing the outside light that had blown out once again. I lived here long enough to know all that could go wrong in the dark. I reminded myself that I would get paid on Thursday and if I didn’t buy any coffee this week, I could get a new lightbulb and that set of paints I saw at the store.

All the lights were off save for the television my father was asleep in front of, his TV dinner mostly untouched. His medicine still where I’d left it before I went to work. A noise from upstairs made me roll my eyes- Elain probably had Grayson over which meant Nesta wasn’t home. With our shared bedroom occupied, I put my wallet and keys in the pantry closet, a habit I picked up after one of our dad’s friends went through my purse and helped himself to all he found.

I shut off the tv and dropped myself unceremoniously on the sofa and closed my eyes… and was startled awake by someone banging on our front door. My dad was yelling for me to answer it and with a mumbled curse I got up.

“I swear to god, Nesta-” I began but froze when I was met with green eyes, not icy blue. The man outside my door seemed surprised to see me as well but quickly scowled. Great. He practically shoved me aside as he stormed into my house, shouting my father’s name.

“Hey, what the hell are you doing?” I snapped, following after him. I had to fight the urge to cry when my dad told me to shut up.

“I had another month,” my dad said to the man who had reached behind his back.

“A month for what?” I asked and my dad made to speak but the man stopped him.

“Your dad owes me money. Lots of it.”

“How?” I asked. “I’m responsible for everything here. And I don’t remember asking you for shit.”

The man chuckled and I wanted to smack that smirk off his face. He was far too sure of himself to be another boy playing make believe. He dressed too fine to even be from this part of town.

“When your father gambled everything away, how do you think he moved you all to this lovely little apartment?”

The tone in his voice made me look at my dad who was in tears. How long had he been doing this? I wanted to strangle him, I wanted to scream but then there was a gun pointed at his face and without thinking I was standing in front of it, arms outstretched.

“If you kill him, how are you getting your money back?”

“There are three of you. I’ll make it happen.”

“Nesta would slit your throat first,” I said and he laughed.

“Feyre, you don’t know who you’re talking to,” my dad said but I paid him no mind.

“Feisty, are we?” the man asked, as if my father weren’t even there.

“How much?” I asked and he raised a brow. “How much does he owe you?”

He stepped forward, pressing the gun to my chest.

“Far too much for a barmaid to pay back.”

“So let me work for you,” I blurted out.

“What?”

“I can’t pay you with the job I currently have. Let me work for you. Pay off his debts and I’ll make sure he never asks you for another goddamn thing.”

“Feyre-” my father began but I turned to look at him.

“You’ve done enough,” I said. “This is the last mess I clean up for you.”

When I turned back around, Elain and Grayson were standing at the foot of the stairs. She was crying and he had an arm around her.

“How can I trust you? You could all disappear in the night?” the man said, and I dared to put my hand over his.

“My sisters are more important than saving my own skin,” I replied, even though I knew if roles were reversed, our father would be dead. My sisters would have run.

No one would fight for me.

“Then you’re coming with me,” he said.

“Where?”

“Where I can make sure you stay true to your word.”

“You’ll leave my family alone?”

“Yes.”

“Fine.”

When my sister began to protest, the man stepped back and I let out a sigh of relief.

“Get your shit.”

Up in our room, Elain was begging me to reconsider, to let her go instead. I grabbed my bag and put my wallet and phone in and what little clothes I had.

“Nesta needs this,” I said as I walked to the dresser and pushed it back. I knelt down and lifted the wooden panel, retrieving the envelope full of money. “Give this to her. Don’t tell dad you have it.”

“Fey…”

“I’m doing exactly what I’ve been doing since mom died. Where I lay my head at night doesn’t change that.”

I gave her a hug and hurried back downstairs to where the man waited. The gun was no longer in sight despite my father on the floor kneeling, begging. Grayson seemed to have left.

“That’s it?” the man asked.

“That’s it.”

I looked down at my dad and sighed.

“Clean up before Nesta gets here. She’s got exams this week and doesn’t need any more stress.”

The green eyed man opened the door and I followed him out. I said nothing as he led me away and towards a black car. When he opened the door for me, I didn’t move.

“Having second thoughts?” he asked with a knowing smile.

“You seem to know every goddamn thing about us. I think I should know who you are before I get in the car… even if I’m going to end up in a ditch by the end of the night.”

He laughed, running a hand through his long, blonde hair.

“Tamlin,” he said as he held out a hand. “Tamlin Moran.”

Moran…

“You’re Wes Moran’s son.”

“So you do know me.”

I shook his hand, ignoring him. Tamlin helped me into his car and I wondered just how much shit I’d just put myself in. The Moran’s were one of the oldest, most powerful families in Prythian. And now I was working for them.

#I literally have no idea why the spacing came out this way but MS word is annoying #this WILL be a feyrhycien fic #because I live for it #feyrhycien mob au #Tamlin is so annoying no matter where he is #feyrhycien #rolling in this trash

60 notes · View notes

gamerwoo · 6 years ago

Text

Chan: Nightmare Eyes

Characters: Chan x female reader

Genre/warnings: college au, fluff, some angst, so much crack, bad party cliches, alcohol consumption, and throwing up

Word count: 3,991

Summary: Chris was your best friend and the boy you were in love with, but the two of you fell out of contact -- or more like he cut you out of his life -- when he got a girlfriend junior year of high school. Now, as a junior in college, you see Chan for the first time since prom at the yearly Halloween bonfire.

a/n: somebody asked if I would do more college aus, so here we are. also, this was definitely inspired by Night in the Woods when Mae gets really drunk lmao. and I did not proof read this but when do I proof read anything??

As a junior in college, you were all about studying, college parties, and mental breakdowns in between. It was around the time for the Halloween bonfire that a bunch of college kids from various universities went to. It was held in this clearing in the not-so-dense woods by the beach, and everyone dressed up to get as trashed as possible around a giant ball of fire.

Safety was clearly not a priority.

Your best friend, Minho had managed to get into the same university as you, and the two of you made it tradition to meet up with Hyunjin, Felix, and Jeongin -- who you would sneak in, as Jeongin was only a senior in high school. You rarely got to see your younger friends, so you always looked forward to the Halloween bonfire.

But this year, you wished you never went. As soon as you got there, dressed up like Fiona from Adventure Time while carrying a small Cake plush, you spotted a boy you hadn’t thought of for four years: Bang Chan. He was dressed up like a scarecrow, wearing a flannel with straw coming out of the hems, ripped-up blue jeans that hugged his legs, brown boots, and his face painted to look like it had patches stitched on and a sewn-up smile.

Fuck, he was more adorable than you remembered.

“Is that...?” Minho’s question trailed off, pointing over to one of the many picnic tables covered in red solo cups and beer kegs.

When Felix spoke, he sounded deflated, “Yeah...”

It was sad, really. The five of you used to be best friends with Chan in high school, back when he still went by Chris Bang instead. Your relationship with Chan actually went all the way back to first grade when he was your partner for and crafts and made you cry. He made you a drawing as an apology, and you hung that drawing on your fridge and called him your boyfriend. You gave him a lollipop for Valentines Day, so he kissed you under the slide at recess.

You didn’t stay best friends. In fact, you didn’t have the same teacher as each other the rest of elementary school, so you completely forgot about “the love of your life” until middle school when star soccer player Christopher Bang kicked a soccer ball at your forehead while you were standing with the cheer squad at a game one afternoon. He bought you lunch the next day to apologize, and the rest was history. You and Chris did everything together until you were juniors in high school. You had the biggest crush on him all those years -- actually, you were 100% sure you had loved him. But then prom ruined everything.

Chris asked Jina Lee who was a student from Korea. You were shocked he didn’t want to ask you since you were his best friend, but what could you do about it? So when you were asked to prom by Daniel Lim, you decided you weren’t going and turned him down. Chris, on the other hand, did indeed go with Jina. After that, everything was different. He didn’t talk to any of his friends anymore, he started going by Chan instead of Chris, and you never really saw him again except for in the hallway, or that one time at prom.

Minho convinced you to go by asking you himself with a giant sign as he stood in the middle of the hallway and shouted the question at you. As Minho had sort of become your new best friend, you said yes even though you were still hurt over Chan. But you got all dolled up and went to prom with Minho, Hyunjin, and Felix -- the two younger boys were asked by upperclassmen which didn’t surprise you at all. And as soon as you got there, you walked right into Chan and Jina, who were looking for their seats.

At first, Chan just sort of awkwardly nodded at his old friends. Then he realized you were the one holding onto Minho’s arm, and he did a double -- maybe triple -- take, his eyes wide like gold balls.

“___?” he questioned. “But, I thought-- Didn’t Daniel Lim ask you?”

“Yeah,” you shrugged, “but I didn’t plan on going to prom at the time. Minho convinced me that I should still try to enjoy myself.”

Chan opened his mouth to say something else, but Jina had tugged him off in the direction of their table, which was opposite to yours.

You never spoke to or thought about Bang Chan ever since.

But now he was here at the party, and you had never seen him at the party before. So why would he show up now? Maybe because Jina and him were broken up? You could only assume since he seemed to only be here with Seungmin, Jisung, and Changbin. They were the only ones of his friends he kept in touch with, and you were pretty sure it was because they were the only ones Jina “approved of” but nobody had proof of that.

You had completely cut everything about him out of your life. Physical memories of your friendship were stored away into boxes under your bed, friend requests were deleted, and clothes he had left at your house from sleepovers were shoved in the back of your closet. You had completely gotten rid of Chan from your life and memories after he had stopped caring about you, so you’d forgotten all about your feelings for him. But as you stared at him from across the bright fire, all those feelings came flooding back, and boy, did it hurt.

“I need a drink,” you grumbled, grabbing Minho by the sleeve and stomping over to a keg.

Too many cups of beer later, you were swaying, slurring your words together, and unable to focus on much of anything. Minho hadn’t seen you this drunk, well, ever. But all he could do was try to hold you up and attempt to get you at least slightly more sober before he’d have to bring you back to campus.

“Literally, what the fuck is wrong with her?” Hyunjin asked, waving a hand in front of your face, and laughing when you scrunched up your face and blinked furiously. “Jesus, Minho, how drunk did you let her get?”

Minho just sighed, “Help me bring her toward the fire. Maybe if she sits there and drinks some water, she’ll start to feel better.”

Hyunjin helped Minho walk you over to a tree stump and sit down. Felix and Jeongin spotted your small group and came over to see what was going on. Jeongin started giggling when he realized how drunk you were.

“Minhooo,” you whined, clutching at his collar, though it took you a couple tries to actually grab him, “wheresthebeer?”

“You don’t need more beer,” he stated. “Hyunjin, grab a water bottle, will you?”

Hyunjin just laughed at you before going off to find some water. Minho instructed Jeongin and Felix to watch over you while he went to go do...something. You didn’t really catch whatever it was, and you really didn’t care what it was anyway.

After Minho left, you focused on the giant bonfire. The warmth hit your face and body and it felt nice. You wanted to just toss yourself in and be completely warm because your back was kinda cold and you didn’t like it. But there was that tiny part of you in the back of your head that reminded you that setting yourself on fire would mean sure death, so you stayed on your tree stump.

As you watched the fire, a shadow walked by you a few feet away. You followed the shadow, thinking it was a ghost until your eyes adjusted and took in the bright smile of Chris Bang. You frowned, studying him as he laughed at something Seungmin had said to him.

You wondered what you ever did to make him stop talking to you. What did Jina Lee have that you didn’t have? Well, other than the obvious stuff that you used to be so insecure about when you’d ask yourself the same question back when the pain of losing Chan to her was fresh. But now that you were older and more secure in yourself and sufficiently drunk -- that last bit was probably the most important detail in this -- you decided were basically way better!

You whined out loud, dropping your head in your hands. The movement almost made you want to vomit.

“Hey!”

Your head slowly lifted. You hadn’t heard that voice in years, so maybe you were just imagining it because your stupid drunk brain missed Chan so damn much that you wanted to cry. But no, he was standing right in front of you, grinning between Jeongin, you, and Felix.

“Hi, Chan,” Felix smiled, though he sounded nervous.

“Wow, you guys grew up a lot, huh?” Chan laughed, his attention on the two younger boys standing beside you. “Jeongin, you got rid of the braces! You look nice!”

The three of them went back and forth, stating things that were different about each other. You just stared up at Chan in awe as if you were looking at Jesus himself. How did he look more perfect up close? You didn’t think he could get any cuter when you were in high school, but holy shit did Christopher Bang get hit by the attractive train.

And then it backed up.

And then it hit him again.

You didn’t notice that Chan was now looking down at you because you were too lost in your thoughts. It wasn’t until he actually said your name that you blinked a few times and tried to recall what he said to you.

“She’s dr--”

"You know what, Christopher,” you slurred, cutting off Felix, “you look really good. Like...too good, y’know?”

Chan was blushing at the compliment, “Tha--”

“But holy balls do I wannapunchyouinthe face,” you groaned, your words slurring together.

Chan’s smile fell, looking at you in confusion, “...What?”

Felix and Jeongin were snorting and giggling as they just let you say whatever it was that was on your mind. And you couldn’t stop the things you were saying because there was no working filter to tell you right from wrong or appropriate from inappropriate. But that would be sober you’s problem.

“You left me, you big asshat,” you told him, poking him in his chest, which was much harder than you expected it to be and uncomfortably bent your finger. “Ow...”

As you held your pointer finger from hitting it too hard into Chan’s chest, Chan set his cup of alcohol on the ground, “_____, did I upset you?”

You snorted, “We were besfriendsand you’re asking if I’m--” you paused to hiccup, “--upset?!”

You suddenly shifted on the stump and stood up on your feet. Now, everybody was staring because there was a drunk girl in a tight outfit standing up on tree log. It could go one of two ways -- strip show or public embarrassment -- but it would be amusing to the party goers either way.

“Christopher Bang -- no, I’msorry: Bang Chan -- you really fuckedmeup, dude,” you told him, pointing down at him. The momentum of your arm almost made you fall right on top of him, though. “I wasso...inlovewithyou butlike...you left me. For Jina Lee!”

Chan looked surprised by that information, his eyebrows raising, “Wait, _____, you--”

“But you were aaaaall I thought about, y’know,” you continued, not even hearing him try to speak. “Like, I knewyou didn’t want anythingtodowithme but...I kept seeing--” you hiccuped, “--you inmydreams ‘n’ shit. Like, I’dhavenightmares of your dumb prettyface. And those eyes? Boy theyreally haunted me. You have nightmare eyes, Chan!”

“Preach!” Jeongin giggled, egging you on.

“You’re doing great!” Felix clapped, trying to contain his laughter.

Chan just stayed silent, taking in everything you said with an unreadable expression. He definitely knew you were drunk from how your words ran together, and how you swayed as you spoke. But if you were drunk and saying all of this, there must’ve been truth to it, right?

Finally, Hyunjin returned with water, but he just stood right at the base of the tree trunk and looked up at you, “What’s happening?”

“Hyunjin!” you yelled even though he was right below you. “Hyunjin misses you!”

Hyunjin glanced between the four of you, not knowing what the hell was going on,“...Excuse me?”

“An’ Felix‘n’Jeongin!” you continued.

The two boys fell silent, looking away like they didn’t know you.

Finally, Minho ran over to try to get you down, “_____, what are you doing?!”

“And Minho!” you added. “Chan, that’s... Um... Okay, Idunnohowmany people thatis but you fucked over a lot ofpeople. And y’know what else? I’m still fucked because IthoughtIwasoveryoubut I stillloveyou. So...fuck you, Bang Chan or Christopher Bang or whatever bullshit name yougobynow. And fuck Jina Lee!”

“Jesus Christ, get down!” Minho scolded, grabbing your elbow and helping you off the tree trunk. His glare went straight to the two youngest boys. “I told you guys to watch her, not watch her make an idiot out of herself!”

“You didn’t specify,” Jeongin pointed out.

“I’m...” Chan spoke up, making the four boys turn toward him. You were leaning completely into Minho, but still managed to stare at Chan. “I’m sorry, guys...”

He bent down, grabbed his cup, and walked away. And you burst into loud sobs in Minho’s arms.

And then you threw up.

Even if you did get any vomit on his clothes, Minho wouldn’t have cared. Thankfully, though, nobody ended up covered in tossed up fajitas, so that was at least something good.

You were still drunk, but you were a lot more quiet now as you sat in Minho’s car. You were in the passenger seat with the door open, sitting sideways as your four friends made you drink lots of water. Minho knelt down on one knee in the grass in front of you, watching you closely since he couldn’t trust anybody else to keep you from making a fool of yourself.

“How do you feel?” Minho asked softly.

“Sad,” you replied before putting the water bottle back to your lips. “Everything tasteslikebad fajitas.”

Hyunjin sighed, “I am kind of proud of _____ for putting Chan in his place, though.”

“Yeah, she called him out on ditching us for his high school girlfriend,” Felix scoffed, rolling his eyes. “He deserved to get thrown up on.”

“I wish he did,” Jeongin agreed.

“Me too,” a new voice spoke up.

Minho turned around while the rest of you suddenly looked up from your conversation to see Chan standing behind Minho with an apologetic smile. Minho got to his feet, standing in front of Chan.

“What do you want?”

Chan let out a soft laugh, “You haven’t changed much, Minho. Still protecting your friends.”

“Unlike some people,” he stated, crossing his arms over his chest.

Chan’s smile dropped and he sighed, running a hand through his curly hair, “I owe all of you guys an apology for what happened in high school. I promise I can explain and give a proper apology later, but I think I really owe _____ the biggest apology right now. Can I talk with her?”

Minho turned to look at you, and you realized that it was your decision to make. You thought Minho would simply tell him no and send him away.

“You don’t completely hateme?” you mumbled.

“No, but I understand why you completely hate me,” Chan chuckled, “and I don’t blame you.”

You shrugged, so Minho stepped out of the way and waved his friends out of the car. The other three climbed out before following Minho toward a nearby bench.

“Just call if you need us, _____,” Minho said before leading the three boys away.

Chan sat down in the grass where Minho had sat, so you slid out of the seat to sit across from him on the ground. The two of you sat in silence for a moment, trying to form your thoughts into sentences. Chan didn’t know how to properly apologize, and you didn’t know how to say what you wanted to without sounding crazy.

Then again, you already told him you were still in love with him, so you couldn’t get much crazier.

“I broke up with her,” Chan spoke up.

Your eyes moved from your water bottle to him, “Huh?”

“Jina Lee,” he specified. “I broke up with her not too long after college started. I didn’t realize how controlling she was until she started making me skip class and studying to spend more time with her. She wanted me to belong to only her and those she deemed to be of her standards.”

“Is that why youdroppedus?” you asked slowly. “We weren’t of Jina’s standards?”

“Basically,” he shrugged, moving his hands through his hair -- he still had that old habit that showed he was nervous or stressed. “That would’ve been avoided if I just didn’t listen to Daniel Lim. In fact, all of this would’ve been avoided if it wasn’t for him.”

“Theseniorfrom high school?” you snorted. “What does he have’t’dowiththis?”

“He was in my algebra class and heard me mention that I was going to ask you to prom. I guess he wanted to ask you, so he told me not to ask you. Since it was Daniel Lim, I figured you’d say yes since like, every girl was after him. By the time I found out you told him no...it was too late to fix anything. I was with Jina, and I hadn’t spoken to any of you in months.”

As all the puzzle pieces started to come together, you whacked yourself in the face with your palm, making Chan laugh. You suddenly looked up at him again, your brows pulling together. There was still one thing that didn’t make sense.

“Why'd you try so hard t’make Jina like you?” you wondered.

“Well...I was in love with you, too,” he admitted sheepishly, a blush covering his face and ears, “but I didn’t think you’d ever love me back. When I thought you’d say yes to Daniel, I knew you’d never love me back. Jina was a smart, nice girl. She was cute -- she was no you, but she was a classmate that was at least nice toward me. I don’t know, I just wanted to get over you. I did eventually fall for Jina but it was nothing like how I felt for you, but I couldn’t just give up what I had for something I thought would never be possible.”

So that was it. This whole thing happened just because you and Chan were both too chicken shit to confess to each other. Your baby-ness had ripped apart multiple friendships, and made you and your four best friends completely hate him.

And you laughed. It started out soft, but built until you couldn’t breath and were bent over. Even Chan was laughing as he realized this, wiping under his eyes and holding his stomach. Your laughter filled the quiet atmosphere away from the bonfire, making the four boys at the picnic table wonder what was going on. But you and Chan were in your own little world, unable to really care.

You didn’t know if you were laughing so hard because you were still drunk or if it was because you actually found this so stupidly ridiculous that it was hilarious. but you wouldn’t really know until tomorrow, would you?

Finally, the two of you composed yourselves, falling into a comfortable silence as you looked up at the stars. You couldn’t see them on campus, but they were especially pretty out here by the ocean.

“Do you really still love me?” he suddenly asked, his voice soft.

You looked away from the stars to see Chan’s cheeks still with a soft blush on them, and a nervous smile on his face. You looked into his eyes -- those dumb nightmare eyes -- and found yourself getting lost in them. They were as dark as the night sky, and shone just as bright.

Fuck him and those eyes.

But you loved those eyes.

And him.

“Yeah,” drunk you blurted. And even then, you kept going, “I thought Ididn’tbecauseI forced myself to block you frommylife but like, I sawyouand...yeah...”

“You wanna know something?” he asked with a sly smile, his hand finding its way into yours. “I still love you, too.”

You opened your mouth, wanting to express your excitement, but that excitement was going to come out in a different way. You pressed your mouth into a thin line to keep that from happening.

“Feeling sick?” Chan guessed.

You nodded.

He just chuckled -- he had seen you get sick in the trashcan in the hallway at school before so this was no big deal to him, “Do you need me to hold your hair back?”

You nodded again.

As you got sick in the grass, your friends rushed over to help. Hyunjin rubbed your back while Jeongin grabbed your water bottle. Minho grabbed the napkins from the glove box for later, and Felix helped Chan keep the stray hairs from your face.

Finally, you were sure your stomach was empty.

“Feel better?” Chan asked as Jeongin handed you the water bottle.

You just groaned as Minho wiped off your face and nose, “Fajitas...”

All five of them laughed, and it wasn’t forced or awkward or anything. It felt just like it did in high school when you were all friends. Things felt normal and natural. Things felt right.

A week later, you, Chan, and all of your friends found yourself at a bowling alley. You’d never seen any of your friends smile so brightly until they were recruited with their old friends they hadn’t seen for four years and reminisced on old memories over nachos and cheap pizza.

“They’re really happy, huh?” Chan asked as you and him walked up to take your turns.

His team -- him, Changbin, Seungmin, and Jisung -- was up against yours, and the loser had to buy dinner tonight. So your alleys were side-by-side so the two teams could still hang out together and catch up. It was nice to see.

“Yeah,” you nodded, holding your ball in your hands as you watched them fondly, “it’s cute.”

“Hey, I was thinking...” Chan began suddenly, leaning against the place the balls came out of between the two of you, “you and I should make this bet more interesting.”

While you and Chan had confessed your feelings that night -- you even confirmed them the next day when he asked again to make sure -- neither of you had asked the other one out. You still felt nervous, and maybe so did he. You didn’t know why you were nervous, you just were!

“Oh yeah?” you smirked. “How so?”

“If I win, you have to go out with me tomorrow night,” he stated.

You felt your cheeks heating up, but you hoped the dim lights of the alley covered the blush, “Feeling bold suddenly, Christopher?”

“Feeling shy, _____?” he teased back.

“Fine,” you cleared your throat, standing up straighter to appear more confident, “if I win, you have to kiss me.”

“So...I win either way?”

“So do I.”

Chan held out one hand, “Deal.”

You put your hand in his, “Deal.”

Chan gripped your hand, suddenly pulling you forward to kiss your cheek before he walked over to the beginning of the lane. You stood there stunned, the blush in your cheeks becoming redder and redder. Chan just glanced back at you with a cheeky grin.

“Alright, can you hurry it up, Nightmare Eyes?” Hyunjin asked, rolling his eyes playfully.

You sighed as the eight boys erupted in laughter. You were never going to live that down.

2K notes · View notes

shadowofadalekmightdeactivate · 5 years ago

Text

Still Human Chapter 10

(A/N: IT’S FINALLY DONE!!! HOLY SHIT I’M SO tired it’s 11 PM someone help me Also-I really, really, really need a beta reader, you guys. I’m looking over old chapters and they have small mistakes that I’m just now fixing. If anyone is interested, PM me) THIS CHAPER HAS TRIGGERS! It has a meltdown description and a death threat. Please don’t read it if either of those disturb you! Tag list: @tinkslittlebelle, @bunny222, @wewuzraw, @narali2003 (Want to be added to the tag list? Send me an ask, I’d be glad to add you!)

If Virgil made a list of things he didn’t like, Christmas would probably top it. It was during a bloody cold and miserable month, was too cutesy for his taste and promoted lies for kids 1 to 13. Mall Santas that smelled of old beer faked jolliness for screaming, snot nosed, entitled little brats who were spoiled beyond belief, sprouting their ridiculously long lists to utter strangers. People sent into debt due to having to buy presents for “friends” and other people they won’t have to talk to again until the next boozefest they call New Year’s Day. It did bring a small break from classes, however. Most likely the best plus Virgil could think of. Spending hours on end lost in the world of music and graphite was the best therapy he could hope to have. Unfortunately for him, Lily loved the Christmas season. And-being so determined to make sure her friend had a social life-made it her mission to get Virgil invited to every up-coming Christmas party she could think of.

“VIRGIIIIIIIIIL~!” Lily yelled out, slamming the door of Virgil’s dorm open. The younger male flinched hard enough to fall of the bed as the blond woman came in. She leaned over him and chuckled at his predicament. “Did I scare ya?” “No, I always expect you to come screaming through my door,” Virgil snarled. Lily laughed again. Virgil swatted her hand away when she offered to help him up. “Tell me, Virgie,” Lily said in a fake innocent voice. “Do you have anything to wear to a party?” “Bitch my closet only has stuff in black,” Virgil shot back. “And anyway, why would you even ask that? You know I don’t like going out.” “But Viiiirgiiiie…” Lily whined. “If you keep this up, you won’t have any friends after you graduate! Don’t you want people to remember you?” “The less people remember me, the better.” Lily fell silent, no doubt hearing the undercurrent of hurt in Virgil’s voice. She dropped the topic and went to his closet, yanking it open. “Uh-you lied, bitch. There’s more than just black here.” Virgil raised his head slightly when she turned around, holding out the sleeve of a purple long-sleeved shirt. His argument died in his throat before he even opened his mouth. The blonde female turned back to her friend’s closet, pulling out every bit of coloured fabric she could find. Some of them were hoodies, some of them were shirts, she found some skirts, a pair of leggings and three scarves. “Only stuff in black”, indeed. “Virgil, come here,” she ordered, sprawling the stuff onto the dorm’s unused bed. “I need your help for this.” “I just said, Lily—” Virgil started to argue, but Lily cut him off by grabbing his wrist and dragging him over. “There’s more than just black here,” she knowingly countered the incoming remark. “And it won’t kill you to go to a few parties!” “What if I get roofied?” Virgil asked in a small voice. Lily’s hand struck the back of his head, making him yelp. “Jesus, Virgil,” she said, exasperated. “No one’s going to roofie your drink!” “Really.” Virgil crossed his arms as the friends faced each other. “So you can tell me for CERTAIN that I’m not going to get drugged out of my mind and kidnapped?” There was a tense silence. Lily sighed and threw one of Virgil’s skirts at him. “Put this on.” “Over my dead body.” “Put it on, Virgil!” Lily dug her head back into the closet. Virgil rolled his eyes and moved behind the spare bed to obey.

An hour later, Virgil stood hugging himself against the cold in front of a mansion, the wind blowing the snow around and stinging his stockinged legs. Lily once again didn’t mind the weather—but then she was in a heavy coat and well defended against the cold as Hell onslaught. Virgil only had a flimsy windbreaker over his sweater to help him. “Come on, Virgil!” Lily interrupted him from mentally writing his will, waving him to come to the door. “It’s not that cold!” “B-B-Bitch, you’re w-wearing a th-th-thick c-coat,” Virgil snarled, his teeth chattering. “I d-d-don’t want t-t-to he-hear it.” “Well then wear a coat next time, silly!” Lily walked over and pulled Virgil against her side, sharing her warmth. Virgil relaxed his hug on himself slightly and mumbled a “thanks”. Lily lead Virgil and one of her friends—Virgil never got her name and couldn’t be bothered to at that point—inside the house, nodding to the person who held the door open for them. The music inside throbbed at his head, already triggering a headache. You’d think they played Christmas music at a Christmas party. Not in this college, apparently. “Come on, Virge!” Lily dragged him to a group of people barely illuminated by deep red lights. Virgil forced a smile as Lily introduced him to them. “Caroline, Susan, Jasmine, this is Virgil!” Lily said. “Virgil, my best friends Carrie, Suzy and Jazzie.” “Um…Hello…” Virgil awkwardly held his hand out for them to shake. Caroline’s lip curled in a disgusted way. “Why is he wearing a skirt?” “Why are you wearing a tux?” Lily shot back. “This is different! If a woman wears a tux, she’s breaking a mold. If a guy does…” Caroline trailed off, wilting under Lily and Jasmine’s glares. “No, continue,” Lily said, her voice dripping with fake sweetness. “I want to hear you finish that sentence.” “Nevermind…” Caroline took a drink from her red cup. Lily winked at Virgil, who gave her a grateful smile. Virgil listened half-heartedly as Jasmine launched into an explanation of how “feminine” she felt. Odd thing to say. Caroline oddly didn’t make any snide remarks about it, but she rolled her eyes every time Virgil tried contributing to the conversation. Eventually the girl moved to stand beside Lily and wound up pushing him out of the group. Virgil bit his lip. He knew he should stand up for himself, but he also really didn’t want to hang out with a group of girls all night like a loser. Hell, he didn’t want to be here in the first friggn’ place. He slowly moved away, heading to a table with a bunch of red cups on it. If he acted like he belonged here, maybe nobody would bug him and he’d be able to think of a game plan.

“Okay, cool it, Roman. You’re being ridiculous. Nobody’s staring at you.” Roman took a deep breath, trying to shove any nervousness away. He can do this! He stuck his hands in his hoodie pocket and stepped further into the house. The music blaring in his ears and muffled human speech didn’t really help his internal chill factor. He resisted the urge to play with his hoodie’s sleeves (he knew what that would lead to) and instead elected to walk around the house. His mind went back to the argument he’d had with his mother the night before. She’d been really upset about something he’d been doing—his “stupid stimming”, she’d said—and was upset that he couldn’t act normal for 5 seconds. “Just don’t act like yourself for ONE MINUTE! Just ONE! MINUTE!! IS THAT SO MUCH TO ASK?! You’re an adult, not a child, now ACT LIKE ONE!” Nope. Nopenopenope. Bad memories. Bad memories won’t help any if they cause him to lose his cool. Roman buried his hands deeper into his hoodie, biting his lower lip. The sounds were really closing in now. ‘I can do this. I have to do this. I can be an adult, prove it to her!’ His feet refused to move. He was rooted to the spot, like a tree. People around him seemed unaware, just brushing past him like he was just a decoration. Someone accidentally touched him at one point and he flinched, moving away and backing into someone. He jolted away from them and bumped into another person. “Hey?!” They protested. “You spilled my drink! Watch where you’re going!” “I-I’m sorry—” Roman moved away from them, flinching when someone grabbed his shoulders. “Calm down, dude,” a voice said. “What drugs are you on?” “Don’t touch me!” Roman jerked away. The man that had grabbed him held his hands up in a calming gesture. “Easy, dude. It’s scary when you’re tripping balls. Come with me, I’ll take you home.” ‘I don’t need to go home!!’ Roman yelled at him mentally. ‘I need to prove something to mom!! I need to last for a little bit longer!!!’ He backed away from the well-meaning hands and suddenly found himself on the floor. The guy tried to reach out to help him up but Roman couldn’t hear his voice over the ringing in his ears. He gripped at his hair to stop himself from flapping his hands, to no avail. Everything was too much, he couldn’t see straight, and even humming loudly didn’t do anything to help. It felt like his chest was crushing his lungs and making it hard to breathe. Was he yelling? He couldn’t tell. Someone suddenly knelt in front of him. Roman focused long enough for him to make out the face of his friend Virgil. He couldn’t hear what he was saying, it’s too much! Virgil took Roman’s hands off his head gently, holding them. He instantly let go when Roman started to flap them. The presence of a friend and finally allowing himself to stim made the ringing in his ears subside enough for him to hear Virgil. “Take it easy, redhead,” he was saying. “Listen to me, not the voices in your head. Breathe with me. Inhale for seven seconds, hold for eight, exhale for four. There we go, that’s much better.” Roman didn’t feel much better. The ringing was starting again and he was getting a headache. Virgil coaxed him to stand and took his hand. Roman gripped it tightly as his purple-haired friend led him away from the noise and the people, away from the music and the heavy feeling. He found himself sitting on the couch, Virgil staying beside him and now playing on his phone. The ringing in his ears and overwhelmed feeling subsided and left him feeling like an utter fool. Mom was right—he can’t handle this kind of scene. He’s not a collage kid. He’s too needy. Virgil looked up from his phone when Roman sighed. “You feel okay?” He asked. Roman nodded. Virgil gave him a disbelieving look and sat up straighter, putting his phone away. “You don’t look like it,” he said. “You looked like you were about to lose it back there.” Roman blushed, rubbing the back of his neck and flapping his other hand slightly. “It’s nothing…” A silence fell between them. “You can’t stand crowds either, hm.” Roman looked up at Virgil again. “You…?” “High anxiety.” Virgil sat back, leaning his head back against the couch and closed his eyes. “I got dragged here against my will.” Roman giggled, trying to hide it in his hand. “Like a damsel in distress?” He asked. Virgil opened one eye to give him a death glare. “Any comment about girls and skirts and I’ll slit your throat.” Roman giggled again. Virgil shut his eye, smiling vaguely. They sat for a bit in comfortable silence, Virgil pretending to sleep and Roman looking around the room. Eventually Virgil opened his eyes again and turned his head to Roman. “Why’re you here?” Roman’s shoulders slumped. “I’m proving something to mom.” “What, that you have anxiety?” “No!” Roman crossed his arms. “That people with Autism can still be adults.” Virgil raised one eyebrow. “I don’t follow.” “My mom and I got into a fight the night before. She wants me to act more normal.” That seemed to get Virgil’s attention, seeing as how he sat up and watched him with wide eyes. Roman continued undeterred. “She complained that I don’t think like an adult and that I can’t even be normal for five seconds.” “I’m sorry—back up.” Virgil waved one of his hands to stop Roman. “She wants you to be what?” “Normal. Without Autism.” Roman shrugged. “I try to tell her that this is my normal, but I guess it’s not enough. She does love me though!” He finished quickly when a dark look crossed Virgil’s face. Virgil started to say something when his phone buzzed. He looked at it for a few moments before throwing it to the floor and burying his face in his hands. “Fuuuck, I don’t want to go back…” Roman tilted his head to the side. He suddenly had an idea. He nudged Virgil’s shoulder and couldn’t help but smile when his friend only moved a finger to look at him. “What if we treat this as an escape?” Roman suggested. “We can run up here if we need to get away again.” Virgil paused to think. Eventually he leaned down to grab his phone and stood up to face Roman again. “Deal. Do you want to stay together?” Roman’s eyes lit up. He grinned and nodded rapidly. Virgil rolled his eyes and grabbed his hand, almost yanking him off his feet as he headed back down to the noise of the party.

Roman and Virgil wound up hiding in the room three more times. Roman had more fun one-on-one with him than he thought he ever would with a house full of random people. Virgil also found himself enjoying the bombastic redhead’s company…Not that he was going to say it out loud. Their fun was soon spoiled by the fact that Roman’s mom had come to pick him up. They were now standing on the sidewalk waiting for her to find a parking spot, Virgil hugging himself and shivering with Roman watching him in worry and trying to work up some courage. He eventually found his voice on the woman’s third lap around the block. “Virgil? I wanted to ask you something…” Virgil looked up at him. Roman struggled to keep his cool (in a better way this time). Why must this man insist on wearing eyeliner, it made his eyes look so big it was so CUTE- “What?” Virgil asked. Roman shook himself out of his enraptured state. “I was wondering…If…” “If you ask me for a kiss I’ll slap you.” Roman couldn’t help laughing at his friend’s bluntness. “No! No! That’s not it at all!” “Then what is it?” “Do you want to hang out this weekend?” There! He said it! Virgil was quiet in thought. He then shrugged. “Sure. I don’t think I have any plans on for that day.” “Really?!” Roman bounced up and down slightly. “That’s great! Thank you so—” His mom cut him off by blaring her car horn. Apparently she’d finally found a parking space…Right across the road. Who’d have thought. “I’d better go inside before I freeze to death,” Virgil said. “O-Okay. Bye Virgil!” Roman waved at his friend as he left. “Text me if you need someone to talk to!” “Who was that?” Roman’s mom asked when he got into the car and started brushing snow off himself. He looked out the window and saw Virgil watching him for a moment before his blonde friend came out and dragged him inside. He smiled to himself. “So I won the bet. That’s my new friend…”

#Still Human AU #Redhead Writes #Sanders Sides #autism au #Roman Sanders #Virgil Sanders #meltdowns #death threats

6 notes · View notes

screamxqueenx94 · 6 years ago

Text

Wolf Moon/Teen Wolf Series- Part 1

Thank you to @mummybear, @ficus-fig and @mrs-mitch-rapp93 ,who gave me the confidence to go for it! You guys are awesome and I love you with all my heart! And to those who are reading this, thank you and I hope you enjoy it too!

A/N: So every part is going to have the same name as the episodes, but they will be told from the point of view of my OC, which means somethings will be left out because she wasn't present and some things will be added. You will learn a lot more about her throughout the series. I really hope you guys enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it! And if you want to be added to my Taglist at anytime if you're not already, just ask :)

Pairing: Eventually in the series; Stiles Stilinski x OC! Charlotte 'Charli' Vérszívó

Warnings: swearing, some underage drinking, and mentions of deceased parents

Italics= inner commentary/ thoughts

Charli's POV

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

It was difficult being in a new place. After everything I went through in the past year, my father and I were forced out of our old home and had to move to Beacon Hills after the incident that killed my mom happened. I don't really miss New Jersey too much, but I do miss my mom. She was the best. She was the rock for our family. She always had a smile on her face even when things were bad.

I miss hearing her sing around the house. I miss the smell of her perfume lingering after she already left the room. I miss being able to tell her anything and not worry about her passing judgements on me. She always knew when to be my best friend and when to be my mom. Most of all, I miss how much she loved my father. He wasn't the best at expressing his emotions, but my mom made him do that and when she died, he changed. He became cold, distant… almost hollow.

We pulled up to the new house and it was beautiful. It was something my mom would have loved. It was a huge gray and stone neo-eclectic style house with a two car garage, and a circle driveway. My father told me that there was an inground pool in the backyard, as if to make me more convinced to be here, but I didn't have a say anyways. I get out of the U HAUL and walk towards the house. I examine the front yard with a bunch of beautiful peonies, roses and snapdragons lining the front of the porch and hydrangeas lining the stone walkway leading to the front porch.

“What do you think, Charli?” My father asks as he put his arm around my shoulders and pulled me closer to him.

“It's beautiful…” I trail off. “...I just wish mom could've been here to see it. She would love this place.” I continue quietly, looking down at my old beat up high top converse sneakers.

“I know… I wish she was here too…” He replied sadly. “But, this is our new life. We're going to get a fresh start here and we're going to make the best of it.” He continued with a slightly more positive attitude.

I sighed and looked back up at the house. My father let go of me and we walked into the new house together. When he opened the double doors, he let me in first. I looked up and noticed the double sided curved stairs that led to the second floor. Why the hell do we need all this space? It's literally just the two of us.

“There's also a fully finished basement for when you have friends over.” He broke the silence.

I looked over and half smiled at him. “Where's my room?” I ask quietly.

“Take your pick. There's at least five of them here.” He smirked.

It was night when we finished unpacking most of the boxes. I carried some crushed up boxes to the curb and threw them away. As I put the lid back on the trash bin outside, I heard a car coming up the road and pull into the driveway of the white house next door on the right side of us. I look up as the door slams shut and see a boy with a buzzcut in a grey cargo jacket get out. After he gets out, he starts walking up the drive, but I may have been staring for too long because he actually stopped to look at me. I quickly made myself busy by putting the boxes that didn't fit in the bin on the ground leaning against it.

He starts walking over to me and starts talking. “Are you my new neighbor?” He asks in a friendly tone. God he was cute.

“Uhh yeah-- yeah I'm Charli.” I answer.

“I'm Stiles…” he holds out his hand to shake mine. Holy crap! His moles are beautiful!

I shake his hand, then shove both of my hands in the pockets of my black zip up hoodie.

“So where did you guys move from?” He asked as he shoved his hands in his jean pockets.

“Jersey. We uh, we lived in Piscataway.”

“Oh cool cool… so did you guys just want a change of scenery or…?” He asked, trailing off.

“No, actually my dad got a new job offer out here and because it's not legal for a 16 year old to live on their own, I had to come along.” I answer as I tuck some of my long, chestnut hair behind my ear, making him chuckle at that last part.

“What’s he do?”

“He's a lawyer.”

His eyebrows raise a bit and he nods. There's a moment of awkward silence between us until he clears his throat.

“Sooo… I'm guessing you're going to be going to Beacon Hills High?” He asks, clearly not sure what else to really say.

“Yeah. My dad originally wanted me to go to a private school, but I convinced him to let me go to public school for a change.” I answer back. “Plus, I'd probably get myself kicked out anyways.”

“You're a rebel I take it?” He asks smirking.

“Only when I wanna be.” I answer back smirking as well, winking, making him chuckle.

We stand there for a minute laughing at how stupid we are. When we stop, he's about to say something until my father opens the front door.

“Charli, come inside. It's late.” he calls. Thanks, Dad…

“Well, I guess I'll see you tomorrow?” I ask, smiling as I walk backwards towards my front door.

“Yeah, I'll see you tomorrow.” He answers back, smiling.

“Goodnight.” I tell him, as my body is facing the door but my violet eyes are still on his honey brown ones.

“Goodnight.” He answers back then starts heading back to his own house.

I go inside and close the door. I have this weird feeling in my stomach. A feeling I never really had before. It was strange, I'm not sure I like it. My face was hurting from smiling so much. Is this what a crush felt like? I honestly don't know.

I take off my beat up high top converse sneakers by the front door and start walking towards the steps to go upstairs.

“Who was that?” My father asked, coming out of the hallway leading from the kitchen with a drink in one hand and a case file in the other heading towards his office.

“Just one of our neighbors.” I answer, trying to head upstairs.

“Yeah? A teenage neighbor?” He asked as he placed the case file down on the big mahogany desk with a raised eyebrow.

I sigh. “Yes dad, a teenager. A teenaged boy.”

“What's his name?” He asked, leaning against the desk, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Stiles.” It just rolled right off my tongue so easily, felt natural coming off my lips.

My father's face twisted. “What the hell kind of name is Stiles?”

“What kind of name is Ambrus?” I shot back.

“Touche… you little shit.” He commented, making me smirk.

“Well, I've had a busy day. I'm going to bed.” I declare.

“Don't you want some dinner?” He asks, holding up his glass to me.

“No thanks, I'll have some in the morning.” I call back as I head up the stairs for bed.

I wake up and get ready for school. I take a quick shower, brush my teeth and look through my closet. I pull out a tie dye t-shirt, ripped faded skinny jeans and the same black zip up hoodie from last night. Since my hair is a mess, as per usual, I decide to just do two loose braids and stop at where the purple dip dyed ends begin and then put on my ‘Anti Social’ beanie. I head downstairs and sit at the island in our open dark wood kitchen and my dad is already dressed for work in his tailored Armani three piece suit and tie.

“Hey, good morning sleepy head.” My father greets as he pours me a drink into a mug. “You excited for your first day?”

“Define excited.” I mumble, still tired because I could barely sleep last night.

“Hey, c'mon now, Charli. Cheer up! Besides, you're gonna have at least one new friend right? That kid, Stiles from next door?” He tries to pep me up as he hands me the mug.

I drink it all in one sip and wipe my mouth with the napkin he hands me. I toss it in the trash and head for the foyer where my shoes from last night and my backpack were. I put on my shoes and throw my bag over my shoulder. I'm about to leave when my dad calls out. “Did you forget something?”

I look up and he tosses me my keys. I catch them. “Thanks, Dad. Love you!” I call out as I head out to the garage door.

I walk in and sitting in the garage is my father's black Cadillac CTS-V Coupe and my purple 1962 Volkswagen convertible. I could've had any car at all, but I just wanted to keep this because it was in the family for three generations now and I'm a sucker for sentiment. I get in and open the garage door. I adjust my mirrors, take a deep breath, start it up and drive off to the school. As I drive, I turn up the radio and the disk jockey announces that she's going to to play ‘Lowlife’ by Theory of A Deadman. I turn it up louder and start singing along as I'm driving.

I get ready to pull into the school parking lot, but get cut off by some dickhole in a grey Porsche. I slam on my horn and flip him off and keep going. I pull into a spot next to an old beat up pick up truck and gather all my stuff together. My phone alerts me of a text and I check it.

Dad: Have a great 1st day Princess! I put ur schedule & money in the front pocket of ur backpack :)

I half smile and get out and walk towards the school. As I'm walking, I'm pretty sure I see Stiles talking to some other kid with shaggy black hair, but I'm not sure so I don't say anything at first. Before I say anything, a strawberry blonde girl walks past him when he tries to get her attention.

“Hey, Lydia! You look… like you're gonna ignore me.” He sounded so defeated. I felt bad, but at the same time, kinda happy because now I got to talk to him.

“Hey, Stiles.” I call out. He looks past his friend's head, smiles and waves at me.

“Hey!” he actually sounds happy to see me. Play it cool, Charli. Don't fuck this up too.

“Charli, this is my best friend, Scott… Scott, this is Charli, my new neighbor I told you about.” he introduced, gesturing back and forth between us.

Scott and I wave to each other and the bell rings. We all head inside and as I'm walking I pull out my schedule and try to look for my first class.

“Who do you have first period?” Scott asks.

“Mr. Westover.” I answer, not looking up until I feel Stiles’ hand on my shoulder.

“Lucky you, that's right next to us.” Stiles says smiling. “Scott, save me a seat, I'll be right back.” He continues as he leads me to the classroom.

We walk in and Stiles goes up to the the older man behind the desk.

“Mr. Westover, this is Charli, she's a new student here.” He states, leading me over to his desk.

“Thank you, Mr. Stilinski, I'll take it from here. Get to class.” He says in a monotone voice, as he sifts through papers.

Stiles gives him a sarcastic salute and looks at me. “I'll see you after class so I can show you your other classes.” He smiles.

“Now, Mr. Stilinski.” Mr. Westbrook's voice raises just a bit. Stiles leaves. “Take a seat anywhere, Miss Vérszívó.” he continues as he motions to the rows of desks facing the board.

I take the last available seat next to a tall boy with brown spiked hair and blue eyes in a leather jacket. I see in my peripheral vision that he's looking me up and down. I can't tell if he's checking me out or judging me, but by his appearance alone, it's probably judging.

“You're friends with Stilinski?” He asks, almost snobbish.

“He's my neighbor and was kind enough to introduce himself, so yes, I'd say so.” I answer back without making eye contact, just sifting through my backpack for a notebook and a pen.

“Well, if you ever decide to hang out with a more appealing crowd, you know where to find me.” He turns back forward, smirking.

“Cool, I'll look for you in the feminine hygiene aisle along with the other douches.” I shoot back as I'm opening my notebook and preparing to take notes. A kid with short black hair starts snickering behind him, which makes me want to crack a smile. The brown hair boy looks back and gives the other kid dagger eyes.

“Mr. Whittmore, is there an issue that needs to be addressed?” Mr. Westbrook calls out, making the brown haired kid's head snap towards the front of the room.

“No sir.” He said.

Mr. Westbrook turned back around to the board and continued writing on it. I looked over at the douche next to me and smirked.

I started looking for my locker and seen Stiles and Scott talking to a girl in the hallway.

“Can Someone tell me how the new girl is here all of five minutes and she's already hanging out with Lydia's Clique?” the pretty girl complained.

“Because she's hot... Beautiful people herd together.” Stiles said to her.

I chuckled and approached them. Stiles and Scott looked over at me and smiled.

“Yeah, toolbag over there just tried recruiting me first period.” I comment as I point to the guy I told off first period who had his arms wrapped around Lydia.

“Wait, Jackson actually tried to talk to you?” the girl exclaimed.

“Ugh… that's his name? Wow, he apparently has a typical douchebag name too.” I joke.

“What did you say when he talked to you?” Stiles asked, rubbing the back of his neck.

“I told him if I needed him, I'd look for him in the feminine hygiene aisle along with the other douches.” I answered.

Stiles and the girl bust out in laughter, which earns me a high five from Stiles. Scott was really quiet though, kept staring at the other new girl tentatively. As if he was listening to their conversation. I could hear it too, something about a party, but I was mostly tuning it out.

“Are you busy later?” Stiles asked after the other girl left.

“Just some more unpacking when I get home, but other than that, no… why, what's up?” he shoved one hand in his jean pocket and adjusted the strap on his backpack over his with the other.

“Well Scott and I have Lacrosse practice after school, but after we were gonna hang out… did you wanna hang with us?” He asked, almost shy.

“Yeah, that'd be cool.” I answer.

“Great, I can text you after practice if you want?” I nod and give him my phone to put his number in.

“Quick question: what's Lacrosse?” I ask.

Whatever I said triggered something because even Scott looked at me shocked. I look at them both. “What?” I ask.

“Okay, forget texting you later. You gotta come to practice.” Stiles exclaimed.

“It's only the biggest sport in Beacon Hills.” Scott adds.

I think for a moment, then I shrug. “Okay, yeah, I'll come watch."

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

That's where I'm leaving off today , hope you guys liked it :)

@mummybear @ficus-fig @music-magic-mayhem @bold-sartorial-statement @zenawa @stiles-o-dylan24 @cry-btch @maaariiiooo13 @thekingofselfloathing @sporadiccookiebagel @bewarethebees @inschi @awesomeandromedablack @raugsmaug @wil2space @bansheeintuition @mrs-mitch-rapp93

#all teen wolf #teen wolf series #teen wolf fanfiction #teen wolf #stiles stilinski x oc #stiles stilinski #scott mccall #allison argent #lydia martin #jackson whittemore #danny #fanfiction #fanfic #part 1 #dylan obrien

37 notes · View notes

bazypitchandsimonsnow · 6 years ago

Text

The Black Swan

Chapter 13

Rating: T

Genre: Fluff/Angst

Word count: 5868

Chapter: 13/17 (All chapters)

Summary: Simon seeks the truth

Read on AO3

AN: Heyyyy this chapter is weird, be warned. Just remember is that we may know what's going on but no one else does. Hope you like this :D

———————————————

“I’ve started working on wind control,” Baz said. “I think I’m getting better. You were right, elemental magic is good general practice.” He flicked his wrist and created a mini tornado, tiny green leaves dancing through the sky.

“Cool,” Simon replied, voice distant and unfocused, just like his mind. Fuck, his mind was so far away it could be considered in a foreign traveller in a neighbouring kingdom. He was still reeling from what he saw last night.

The portrait was currently in the deepest, darkest corner of his closet after Simon spent hours studying it. And many hours and days later, it was still so clear. That boy looked exactly like Baz. Which would make Baz a prince. The prince. Prince Tyrannus Grimm-Pitch, late Heir of Watford, who supposedly died in a fire. Just like the one Baz was taken from as a child. Like the one that killed his mother. Like the one that killed Queen Natasha.

On the surface, it made perfect sense. All the pieces fell together to paint a perfect picture. But it was so fucking insane. How could it be true? Baz, his wonderful and strange cursed boy, actually the dead prince. More noble than Simon ever was. His brain still couldn’t process it.

“Snow? Simon, are you there?”

Simon’s head snapped up. Baz was standing over him. When had he gotten so close? Had Simon been that lost to the world? “Huh?”

“You alright, love? You seem a bit out of it tonight.”

“Uh, yeah, yeah, I’m fine. Just...thinking.”

“Well, that’s a first.”

Simon rolled his eyes and tapped his ankle in lieu of an actual kick. “Shut up, arsehole.”

Baz chuckled and put a hand on his hip. A few strands of black hair fell in his grinning face. He looked beautiful. He was perfect. He should know that.

“You’re really amazing,” he blurted out.

Baz’s face did a strange thing. His head pulled back and his lips slightly parted. Simon was never good at reading people, but that seemed like shock and awe. Was Baz awestruck by such a simple statement? He had to know that. He had to know Simon thought he was the most infuriatingly perfect man in the world.

His smirk returned, awe washed from his face. “Why thank you, Snow, I appreciate you stating the obvious.”

He was playing it off like a joke, but it wasn’t. Simon needed him to know how important he was. Long lost prince or cursed boy, he was so fucking incredible. Simon grabbed Baz’s wrist and yanked him down to the ground. Baz wobbled but found his balance on his knees, looking down at Simon with confusion. Simon took him by the back of the neck and kissed him firmly. Well, it was more just him shoving his mouth on Baz’s, no finesse or moving his lips the way he’d learned to over the past weeks. He didn’t want finesse. He wanted to somehow push his feelings into Baz, make him understand how much he cared just through their mouths touching. And when Baz pushed back, Simon wondered if Baz wanted Simon to know the same from him.

They separated with a small breath. Simon held his face tightly, thumbs dragging over his sharp cheekbones. The same cheekbones Natasha Grimm-Pitch apparently had. Simon was so conflicted. He of all people knew how terrible it was to be a prince. But...

“You really want to find your family,” he whispered, “right?”

Baz blinked at him. He sat back on his legs, wand placed carefully on the ground.He had that annoyingly attractive smirk again. “Well, it would be nice to know if I just manifested out of the aether or not.”

“Baz,” Simon half groaned, half sighed. “Please, just...actually answer.”

Baz squeezed his lips together. Simon tried to smooth out the worry lines on his forehead, but it was to no avail. Nothing short of a professional healer could probably soothe out that tension. But Simon tried anyway. He wanted Baz to feel better.

“I do,” Baz said, his voice a choked, small whisper. “I...I think I want to know if there’s someone out there that misses me.”

“I miss you,” Simon blurted out, almost defensive in a way. “I always miss you.”

Baz let out a breathy chuckle, hot air caressing Simon’s face. “I know, love. Thank you. I do appreciate it. It’s just, it’s not exactly the same. If I had a family, I must’ve disappeared on them. And I...I think, I want my absence to have been noticed. I want to know if someone...wants me to come home.” His voice broke slightly as he said it, and Simon’s heart crumbled at the sound. He was so vulnerable and open. Simon just wanted to hold him and protect him forever.

“And I need somewhere to go too, I suppose,” he laughed. “That’s just being practical.”

Simon wrapped both his arms around Baz, pushing Baz’s forehead into the crook of his neck. Baz hugged him back, bunching Simon’s shirt in his grip. He stroked Baz’s hair slowly. He wasn’t sure if he needed the intense comfort, but Simon would give it to him anyway.

Eventually, Baz pulled back, a half smile pulling at his mouth. He looked calmer. And that made Simon feel infinitely better.

“Let’s stop being all deep and sad, please,” Baz said with teasing lilt. “I want us to just be happy for once.”

Simon grinned and tucked a piece of hair behind his pointy ear. “Sure. I’m always happy around you though.”

Baz kissed a mole on his cheek. Simon noticed he liked to kiss that mole. It never failed to make his face flush. “I’m happy around you too.” He pulled back, wand pointed up. “And I want to show you this.”

He quickly jumped to his feet and held the wand to the sky. “A cold winter’s night.”

There was a small crack of thunder, then Simon felt something chilly and wet tickle his nose. His face scrunched up. He looked up, and felt more cold touch his skin. Simon’s eyes went wide. He held out his hand, and little flecks of white fell down, decorating his palm. He laughed breathlessly.

“It doesn’t snow here,” he said under his breath. “It never snows here.”

“Never say never, Snow,” Baz teased. “You must know by now nothing is impossible for us.”

Their eyes met between the falling powder. Yes, Simon thought, you’re right, nothing is impossible for you. Because you’re incredible and so strong. And you deserve to know that people miss you, even if it means having to possibly give you a burden like mine.

Simon stood up but immediately fell against Baz, head resting on his shoulder. One of Baz’s strong arms wrapped around his waist. They held each other in the soft snow. Baz was so solid and comforting. Simon stood in the cold shower and hoped that once Baz knew, this wouldn’t end in flames.

———————————————

Simon banged on the door as nicely as he could. He was impatient, but he wanted to stay on Penny’s good side. He especially needed to right now. And soon enough, the door swung open, with Penelope Bunce on the other side.

“This is becoming repetitive, Si,” she said, but she was still smiling.

“What, you don’t want to see me?” he asked

She rolled her eyes. “Shut up, arsehole, you know I do.” She waved him inside and closed the door behind them. “But recently, every time you come to my door, you drop some sort of weird question or astounding revelation on me.”

Simon chewed on his lip. Well, he knew this was going to be weird. Now it was just going to be weirder. “Yeah, about that...”

Penny let out a loud sigh and threw herself on the couch. “What is it now, Si? Is Agatha turning into a dragon? Have Baz’s eyes gotten prettier?”

“Uh, no,” he chuckled awkwardly. “Actually...it’s a bit more serious than that. And a bit more real.” He plopped him on the couch next to Penny, rucksack in his lap. “I found something, and I need your help proving I’m not crazy.”

Her brows pulled together. “Okay...”

Simon took a deep calming breath, then opened his rucksack. “I was in the library late at night, researching stuff, trying to find Baz’s family, so he has somewhere to go after the curse is broken. But I didn’t find anything, so I decided to try going further back. And something...weird happened. I found this secret room with lots of expensive stuff in it. I also found this.”

Simon pulled the portrait out of his bag and shoved it at Penny. She jolted back, blinking rapidly. She took it cautiously and adjusted her glasses, examining every detail. “Okay,” she said slowly, “this is definitely noteworthy. I didn’t think that any of portraits of the Queen survived, let alone one of the Prince.”

“Yeah, I know, so did I. But also, the thing is...it took me a second to figure it out, but...” He reached over and tapped Tyrannus’ small, pudgy face. “That kid, looks exactly like Baz.”

Penny’s eyes went incredibly wide. “Wait, you mean...”

“I think Baz is Prince Tyrannus,” he blurted out.

Penny looked at him with a gaping mouth. “You think, that your cursed lover boy, is the dead son of Queen Natasha Grimm-Pitch?”

Simon nodded slowly, fiddling with shaking hands quite a bit. “Y-Yeah, I think he is”

“But, Simon, the prince is dead! He died in the fire!”

“Yeah, yeah I know, Pen, but just hear me out.” He turned to Penny and looked her right in the eye. “Baz was kidnapped from a burning building when he was five. Someone took him and killed his mother, probably the same guy who cursed him. Maybe Prince Tyrannus was taken from the burning palace and everyone just thought he was dead. And that’s Baz.”

“But Prince Tyrannus isn’t missing,” Penny grumbled. “He died along with Queen Natasha in the fire. And how do you know all this about Baz and a fire? Does Baz really remember all these details from when he was five?”

Simon rubbed at the back of his neck, shrugging up to his ear. “Uh, Baz doesn’t remember that well. I actually...dreamed about all of it. Psychic visions and all that...”

Penny gave him a very particular look over her glasses. Simon recognised it from school when they were studying and he said something dumb or impulsive. “Simon, dreams aren’t reliab-”

“I know,” he groaned. “But I’ve been having them over and over for months. And they’re super consistent. And in it, a woman calls the boy I see ‘little puff’. That’s what Baz’s old caregiver called him. It’s too unusual to be a coincidence. And Penny, just look,” he pointed insistently at the picture again, “Baz looks exactly like the prince. Same hair, eyes, skin tone. They’re bloody identical!”

“I guess so...”

“You’ve seen Baz, Pen. Can’t you tell?”

“I’ve only seen him once, Si! From behind a mask and a headscarf! I mean, I’ll take your word for it, I trust your judgement.” He ran her thumb over the fancy frame, twisting her lip. “But, from what you’ve said about him, I don’t think this and your dreams will be enough to convince Baz he’s a bloody lost prince.”

“Yeah, I know. Which is why I was hoping I could look through your library. Your parents have stuff from before the castle burned down, right?”

Penelope sighed, then pushed herself to her feet. “Yes, most definitely. For once it’s probably good my parents are literary pack rats.”

She offered her hand, and Simon gladly took it, letting her pull him up. “Thank the Gods for book hoarding teachers.”

They both chuckled as they walked up the stairs together. The Bunce family library sat right next to Mitali and Martin’s bedroom. It wasn’t that big, and certainly wasn’t big enough to hold all their books. There were so many ceiling high shelves that you couldn’t see the walls. Simon had to tiptoe around precarious stacks of volumes and loose papers. Penny was already standing at a shelf, eyes scanning over the books.

“So what should we look for, Si?” Penny asked. Simon shrugged, and his friend glared. “We can’t sort through everything, Simon. We need somewhere to start.”

Simon scratched the top of his head. He asked himself, where would Baz start? “Um, how about stuff about the fire? I never learned any specifics about it.”

“None of us did, Si. King David took it out the history curriculum. He doesn’t want us to remember there was a royal family before you and him.”

Simon made a “humph” noise. King David and his bloody crown, always fucking everything up for him. “So there are no history books on the fire?”

Penelope shook her head. “Probably not.”

He twisted his mouth, rattling off possibilities in his head. So nothing made after the fire would have information it. But, what about something from when it first happened? Before David was in power. “Was there an announcement? Right after the fire happened?”

There was a pause. Simon wondered for a moment if he’d said something wrong. But then he heard a rustling, and when he turned around, Penny was on her knees, looking through a stack of scrolls. Simon stepped over book stacks to stand next to her.

“What are you doing?” he asked, genuinely confused.

“Well for one, thanking the Gods that my parents insist on keeping every town wide proclamation in case the royals try to contradict themselves,” she said. “Also, you’re a genius, Simon Snow, bloody genius.”

Simon blushed and shrugged. “Thanks, Pen.”

She kept sorting through the pile. Simon leaned down and helped her. Most of the scrolls had a green wax seal with a sword imprinted on it, the crest of House Owens. He tossed those away immediately. But once they made it through the top layer, the seal was a red flame, the symbol of House Pitch. Simon opened them and scanned the words as fast as he could. Most of them were boring. Tax increase this, district redraw that, blah blah blah. But then he found the words “tragic passing”. He hit Penny rapidly on the shoulder.

“Pen, Pen,” he said, “I think I found it.”

Penny scooted closer to him. Simon slowly unrolled the old paper. Luckily, the ink was still solid enough to read.

ANNOUNCEMENT FOR THE KINGDOM OF WATFORD: TRAGIC PASSING OF THE QUEEN AND CROWN PRINCE

August 2nd, 1102

It is with heavy hearts that the Royal Court of Watford must announce the tragic deaths of Her Majesty, Queen Natasha Grimm-Pitch, and His Royal Highness, Crown Prince Tyrannus Grimm-Pitch. Both sadly perished in the disastrous fire that destroyed Watford Castle. The Queen and Prince are survived by His Royal Highness, Prince Consort Malcolm Grimm, and Lady Fiona of House Pitch. The castle shall be rebuilt in due time. The Court shall handle all royal duties until a new ruler is crowned. A vigil shall be held in Watford Town Square in two days time to honour the late Queen and Prince. May they both rest in peace.

“Pretty standard stuff,” Penny grumbled. “Poor Lord Grimm and Lady Pitch, though. They’re stuck up pricks, but they didn’t deserve to lose their whole family.”

Simon’s brow furrowed, contemplative frown pulling at his mouth. “1002,” he said slowly. “We would’ve been five then, right?”

“Uh, yeah, I guess so.”

“Baz is the same age as us. He would’ve been five when Watford Castle burned down, the same age he was brought to the lake.”

Penelope’s face scrunched up. Not on confusion though, more in thought. “You know his birthday?”

“Yeah. February 24th, 997.”

An toothy grin spread across her face. It was how she looked whenever she solved a problem. “Si, if there was a royal proclamation of the Prince’s death, there has to be one of his birth.”

Simon grinned as well. He grabbed her face and put a big wet kiss on her forehead. “You’re a genius too, Penelope Bunce.”

“Thank you, thank you. Now let’s look.”

They sorted through the scrolls again. It was harder now that they were in the Grimm-Pitch ones. Simon had to look over each one before tossing it away. It made everything take twice as long. What a weird thing to complain about.

“Got it!” Penny shouted. “I got it.”

Simon leaned over her shoulder as they read the words.

ANNOUNCEMENT FOR THE KINGDOM OF WATFORD: BIRTH OF CROWN PRINCE

February 25th, 997

It is with great pride that Her Majesty, Queen Natasha Grimm-Pitch and His Royal Highness, Prince Consort Malcolm Grimm announce the birth of their son, His Royal Highness, Prince Tyrannus Grimm-Pitch. He was born late last night at a healthy weight with no complications. Her Majesty is perfectly well after the birth. Prince Tyrannus shall be officially declared Heir to the Throne of Watford in one week’s time. Long may he thrive.

“Wait what’s this?” Simon asked, furiously tapping at the bottom of the page. Unlike the other announcement, there were two large symbols stamped on the bottom of the page. One was clearly the flames of House Pitch. But the other was familiar in a different way; it was of three wheat stalks on a field.

“Um.” Penny brought the parchment closer, squinting her eyes. “I think that’s the crest of House Grimm. They’re descended from farmers, it makes sense.”

Simon tapped it even more insistently. “That symbol, Baz, he-he has it, he has it!”

Penny looked at Simon like he was a few tarts short of a banquet. “What the fuck does that mean?”

“I-It means, Baz he, he has this necklace, he’s had it his whole life. It’s got his birthday on one side, and on the other is this symbol. And you say it’s the crest of House Grimm. So that means...”

“He might have some connection to House Grimm,” Penny said, voice quiet, completely disbelieving.

“Like it being the house of his father!’ Simon bounced to his feet, nearly knocking over some book stacks with his waving arms. “This is it! It’s the same birthday, his necklace symbol. It’s proof that Baz is the prince!”

Simon felt like he was buzzing with delight. And he wanted Penelope to be jumping for joy like him. But she looked unconvinced. In fact, she looked almost sad. Simon immediately deflated.

“You don’t think so,” he said, voice bordering on a whine.

Penelope sighed and looked at Simon with sympathetic eyes. “I want to, Si, I really do. But, I just can’t get past one thing.”

“What?”

“The prince is dead.” She held up the first scroll towards him. “Look at the proclamation, Si. Tyrannus was uncategorically called deceased, after a horrible fire! Why would he be declared dead if he was just missing? Wouldn’t Lord Grimm, Lady Pitch, and everyone else in the bloody kingdom want to have hope that the son of Queen Natasha and heir to the throne was alive?”

Simon opened his mouth to argue, but unfortunately, Penny had a point. They wouldn’t declare a crown prince dead if there was a chance he was alive. “Maybe they made a mistake?” Simon said nervously.

“About the heir to throne?”

He shrugged. “Well, it’s possible, right?”

Penny fiddled glasses, mouth shifting back and forth. “I guess. The person who examined the bodies might’ve mistaken someone else for the prince.”

“Who examined the people after the fire?”

“The court physician, I guess.” Penny’s eyes went wide. She lifted her eyes to meet Simon’s. “Who’s still Lord Wellbelove.”

Simon grinned once more. His heart was beating so fast he could hear the blood in his ears. Everything felt electrified. Even his skin somehow tingled. Hope was such a strange, wonderful sensation. “We have to go see Agatha.”

———————————————

“Remind me again why we need to get into my father’s office?” Agatha said as she fiddled with the keys. Simon and Penny stood behind her. They were all very lucky Lord Wellbelove was with Lady Wellbelove, both of them stuck in another meeting with King David. They had to hammer out final terms before the winter ball tomorrow. It sounded like hell. Simon hoped to save all of them from that hell very soon.

“It’s a very long story,” Simon said. “And I promise to explain it all to you later when everything calms down.”

She gave him a look over her shoulder, one eyebrow raised. Simon gave her his brightest, kindest smile. And thankfully, Agatha just sighed and shook her head. “Alright. I trust you, and I'll hold you to that full story later.”

Simon pressed a kiss to her cheek. “Thank you, Aggie, you’re the best.”

Agatha made a “yuck” noise and wiped her face. “Yes yes, I know.” The key finally turned, a loud click resonating down the stone hallway. “And I’m the keymaster too.”

She pushed the door open. The hinges squealed like a rat’s who’s tail had been stepped on. Penny used her ring to light the torches along the wall. Lord Wellbelove kept a very organised office, thank the Gods. His oak desk was immaculate, with notepaper, a quill, and ink. Shelves were filled with identical versions of brown leather journals. The cabinets were labelled with initial ranges of what Simon had to assume referred to patient names.

“Your father is a neat freak, I see,” Penelope said, taking a torch to scan over the perfectly alphabetized files.

“Yeah,” Agatha sighed. “Something about ‘tidy room, tidy mind’, I think. Don’t ask me, my room looks like a tornado hit it.”

“C’mon, c’mon, we have to look!” Simon said. He threw open the filing cabinet drawer, flipping through the papers as fast as he could without messing it up.

Agatha stood over him with one hand on her hip. “And what the hell are we looking for, Si?”

“Uh, anything about the big palace fire. The one that killed Queen Natasha and Prince Tyrannus.”

“Oh, alright. You can check those files, but I doubt you’ll find anything about that in there.”

Simon spun around, looking up with her with utter confusion and desperation. “Why not?”

“Because,” she sighed, “he wouldn’t be able to keep a record that sensitive, the Court would take it. But even you wouldn’t be able to get into the Court records. They’re under heavy magical lock and key. Father is always complaining about it when he wants to learn from old cases.”

Simon’s whole body and soul deflated. “Oh. That sucks.”

“But,” Agatha walked towards the shelf of leather bound books, “I bet my father made notes in his journals. He’s obsessive about those things.”

“Yes, yes!” Simon suddenly felt alive again. He scrambled to his feet and followed her. “I remember, he was even writing in it during our graduation ceremony.”

Agatha sighed as she ran a finger over the journal’s spines, each branded with a date range. “Exactly. Mother and I were ready to kill him that day. What date are you looking for?”

“Uh, August 1002.” And like it was sent from the heavens, Simon saw that exact month and year stamped on the journal right in front of him. “Like this one says!”

He plucked it off the shelf and rushed over to the desk. Agatha stood behind him while Penny sat on the desk. Simon furiously flipped through the pages. It was a bit hard to read Lord Wellbelove’s chicken scratch writing (like Simon was one to talk). But soon he saw the word “fire”, and stopped dead.

August 10th, 1002, Final Conclusions from Palace Fire

After a thorough examination of the debris, I can conclude that Queen Natasha and Prince Tyrannus were the only deaths from the fire. Everyone else suffered mild to severe injuries, but are recovering well. Final conclusions:

H.S Queen Natasha O. Grimm-Pitch: Death by asphyxiation, most likely from smoke inhalation, body burnt but recognizable

H.R.H Prince Tyrannus B. Grimm-Pitch: Assumed deceased, body most likely too buried beneath too much debris

Despite the Prince’s body being unfound, Lord Grimm has said there is no hope his son is alive. He is too grief stricken and morose to continue. Agreed with King Presumptive David to cease debris search. Tyrannus will be declared officially deceased. My findings will be put in Court records. Hopefully the prince’s body will be found one day so I can examine it properly.

Simon’s jaw was firmly on the ground. And the ground felt like it had fallen out from underneath him so he hit the centre of the world. He read the words over and over, but it stayed the same. The proof before felt like poor, dirty scraps compared to this.

“Holy shit,” Penny whispered, “his body was never found.”

“Yeah,” Simon said, voice shaky.

“Why is that important?” Agatha asked as she leaned on Simon’s shoulder.

“It’s, uh, part of that long story, Ags.” Simon twisted his head to her. “Think your dad would notice if this journal went missing for a couple days?”

Agatha shook her head. “Definitely not. He’s too busy right now, he hasn’t been in this office in days. And I really do expect a long explanation later, Si.”

“Of course, of course.�� He squeezed her hand with a big smile on his face. “Thank you, Agatha.” He looked back at the journal, and something caught his attention. He tapped Penny’s knee. “Pen, look, the Prince’s middle initial.”

He held up the journal to her, tapping his name. She took it and squinted, then chuckled under her breath. “Wow, that’s...quite the coincidence. It’s just an initial though. Agatha, do you know what the Prince’s full middle name is?”

“No, no clue. My father would know, I guess, but he’s still in the meeting with King David”

“Dammit,” Simon grumbled, picking at his nails. He wanted to see Baz tonight, before the Winter Ball. Before this damn engagement was announced before every member of the court.

Simon’s head bolted up. “Aren’t Lady Pitch and Lord Grimm here today? For the ball tomorrow night?”

“Um, they should be,” Agatha said. “No clue where they are though.”

Simon snapped the journal shut, the sharp sound reverberating in the quiet room. “I might know. And I have to talk to one of them.”

“Well, I have to get to work,” Penny said, jumping off the desk. She put a comforting hand on Simon’s arm. “Good luck with all this, Si.”

Simon squeezed her wrist. “Thanks, Pen.” He stood up and immediately pulled Agatha into a tight hug. She hugged him back, though with a bit of hesitation, which Simon understood. She had no idea what was going on, but she was willing to help him anyway. And he really loved her for it. He would tell her absolutely everything later. “Thank you, Aggie. You’ve really helped.”

“Welcome, Si,” she said. “Whatever this is, I hope you solve it.”

He chuckled as he pulled back. “Me too. I gotta run. I’ll see you later, alright?”

She nodded and delicately patted his shoulder. “You certainly will.”

Simon nodded back, then dashed out through the door. He had a vague idea where he wanted to go. And weirdly enough, his vague ideas were usually helpful. Hopefully this one was too.

———————————————

Simon was damn tired. He’d been wandering the guest wing for almost half an hour now and still no sign of Lord Grimm or Lady Pitch. Lord Grimm was probably holed up somewhere. He was notoriously anti-social at these sort of events, only coming out of obligation, and Lady Pitch wasn’t much better. Simon barely knew what Lady Pitch looked like, anyway. She made a point of coming to the castle as little as possible, and was probably only here after begging from Lord Grimm to be there for support during the Winter Ball. Simon guessed she looked like Queen Natasha and Baz. But even if that was true, this castle was so huge.

He turned a corner and slumped against the wall. This felt hopeless. It seemed only fair that after so many victories he’d get one defeat. It was just sad that he had come to a screeching halt this close to the end. This close to what he hoped was the final confirmation, the last clue that Baz was Prince Tyrannus, that he had a family. All he needed was to talk to one of the Grimm-Pitches. If only they weren’t so dark and mysterious and hard to find. Cook Pritchard was a Pitch cousin or something right? Maybe that would be easier. Maybe his feet would hurt less.

“This place is disgusting,” a woman’s voice grumbled. “Malcolm owes me big time.”

The voice’s owner turned the corner Simon was hiding in. She was a bit shorter than Simon, with reddish-gold skin and black hair, save for a single stark blonde streak. Simon caught a glimpse of her deep sea grey eye.

“Lady Pitch!” he shouted, rushing towards her.

Lady Pitch jumped and spun around, eyes wide and hands in a defensive position. Her mouth morphed into a scowl she fully took in who Simon was. She put a hand on the hip of her black trousers. (She was also known for openly flouting social conventions, especially when it came to clothes.)

“Well,” she growled, “if it isn’t Davy’s little exploding orphan princeling.”

Simon instinctively pulled in on himself. “Y-Yeah, it’s me. It’s an honour to meet you Lady Pitch, we’ve...never met me before, I think.”

“No. Because I didn’t want to.” Simon flinched slightly. She took a step forward, looming over him even with her lesser height. “Why are you bothering me, princeling? Don’t you have another family’s dignity to steal?”

“Um, I, uh, I, have a question actually, that I think you could answer, maybe.”

“Oh? I thought the Pitches had nothing to offer except taxes and a ready made kingdom for your father to snatch.”

Simon rubbed his burning neck. “Uh, he’s not technically my father...”

“Whatever,” she spat. “Your adopted father. Doesn’t change that you’re his heir and lackey.”

“Y-Yeah, I guess...”

She took another menacing step forward, both hands on her hips now. “So, what in the gods’ names would you want from me? Or do you get off on wasting my damn time?”

Simon gulped. And he thought Baz could be intimidating. He clutched the journal to his chest, the closest thing he had to a security blanket right now. “I wanted to ask you something about your nephew. Prince Tyrannus, I mean.”

“I only hav- had one nephew, princeling,” Fiona growled, arms crossing over her chest as she shoved her face forward. “Why the Hell do want to know about him? Your King has made it his mission to erase my sister and nephew from history. Looking for some way to resurrect their memory so you can desecrate it?”

Simon violently shook his head. “No! No, of course not, I-”

“Then what? Think my dead family is a fun little curiosity for you to play with?!”

“No! Just...” He took a deep breath. He was this close to blurting out the truth, but that would probably make Lady Pitch even more angry. She would accuse Simon of lying, and that was obviously incredibly counter productive. He took another breath and kept his eyes shut, focusing on his words. “I’m...I’m not like King David. I don’t want to forget the past. I-I want to learn about it. And from what I know about Queen Natasha, she’s someone I could learn from. I could learn from her ideas. And Prince Tyrannus was only five when he...died. He doesn’t deserve to be forgotten, I-I think.”

Simon looked at the ground as the silence stretched between them. It filled the space with an invisible weight the crushed Simon’s lungs and dried out his throat. Eventually, with a lot of built up courage, Simon lifted his head. Surprisingly, Lady Pitch didn’t look angry. Her eyes were narrowed, mouth a thin line. It was critical, but not in a malicious way. Just a curious way, trying to figure Simon out. Simon was familiar with that look. From Penny, from Baz, from lots of people trying to understand him. Few people did. He hoped Lady Pitch would be one of them.

“What do you want to know?” She asked, voice biting. But she still asked.

Simon let out a small sigh of relief. His grip on the journal loosened. “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me before you ask, I may not have the answer. Now ask me your question before I change my mind.”

Simon nodded vigorously. “Right, right, sorry.” He rubbed at his neck, gulping before mustering up the words. “Uh, I was looking at old stuff about Prince Tyrannus, and I noticed that he was sometimes called ‘Tyrannus B. Grimm-Pitch’. So I was wondering what the B stood for...?”

The silence resumed. Lady Pitch didn’t look critical though. Instead, she looked very, very confused. “That’s what you want to know about? What my dead nephew’s middle name was? Really?”

Simon’s cheeks heated up. He went back to clutching the book. “Y-Yeah, I was just...curious. I can’t find his full name. He...he seemed like a nice kid. I was wondering what his full middle name was...” Lady Pitch was still looking at him like he was insane. Simon’s entire face was flushed. “N-Nevermind, I’ll just go now. Thank you for your time, Lady Pitch.”

Simon spun on his feels and started speed walking away. This was a dumb idea. He had enough proof anyway. This was just some sort of stupid desperate act for one more confirmation, he supposed. He didn’t need to know. He-

“Basilton.”

Simon stopped in his tracks and slowly turned around. Lady Pitch was still standing there with arms over her chest. But she didn’t look angry, or sad, or anything really. Just neutral. Which was honestly better than the other options.

“What?” Simon said stupidly. He was still processing.

“Prince Tyrannus’ middle name,” she said with a hint of bite. “It was Basilton, or Basil for short. That’s what we in the castle usually called him. Does that answer your question?”

Simon stayed frozen for a moment, but once his brain came back to life, he nodded rapidly. “Yes, yes, thank you, very much.”

She didn’t say you’re welcome. Simon didn’t expect her to. But she did nod once, and that was the closest Simon knew he’d get to those actual words. “Hope you end up being better than Davy, princeling.”

“Uh, I’ll try.”

“Good.” She turned on her heels and walked away. And that was that.

Simon let out a long breath, resisting the urge to collapse to the floor. He was both filled with relief and buzzing with excitement. That was it. That had to be it. There was absolutely no denying it; Prince Tyrannus was not dead. He was very much breathing, cursed but otherwise well. And he damn well wouldn’t be cursed for much longer.

———————————————

AN: Fiona would've probably fought Simon right there if she could lol. Hope you liked that! I know this is a weird chapter. I'm nervous about publishing it. It was originally linked with chapter 14 but then it would've been like 27 pages long so I had to split them. I might publish chapter 14 a bit early, depending on how much of my essay I get done. Either way, see you guys next time :)

#carry on #snowbaz #simon snow #baz pitch #penelope bunce #agatha wellbelove #fluff #angst #fantasy au #The Black Swan #mysnowbazfic

11 notes · View notes