#she needs a life and sun god she can call a bitch and throw rocks at | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

bradshawsweetheart · 1 year ago

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Here we go, me yelling again🤠

But this thing lying before you, the one wearing the skin of the man that loves you like a sacrilegious coat, does not deserve peace. Bradley does. Wherever he is, if he is alive, if he is dead, if he is asleep, if he is awake…Bradley deserves peace.

The complexity of what’s going on is so masterful and I just want to cry LOL

Everyone is waiting for him to do something, save everyone.

He wonders if they’ll remember him saying that. He wonders if they’ll remember anything he said or did. He wonders if they’ll remember the way his voice trembled.

Javy baby😭 literal weight of the world on his and Nat’s shoulders

They will always remember what Miss Phoenix sounded like when Mister Bob died right there in front of everyone, his body pale and bloody and her wails deafening.

This is so heartbreaking and reminds me of the behind the scenes fact of the [REDACTED] movie where they had to cut the audio of Daniel Radcliffe’s wailing over Gary Oldman because it was too gut-wrenching🥲

“I’m a boy scout,” he answers incredulously. Like, duh. Of course. That’s how.

I just cackled LMAO

But you. You’re someone he can help. You’re someone that just shot three times.

And she’s the someone with only one bullet left now ono

“Look at these guns, huh? Who’d wanna tussle with me?”

He’s trying so hard to reassure them I’m so sad LOL

He wonders, momentarily, if it will sound like that forever now that you’ve been choked within an inch of your life.

My name is Katniss Everdeen. I’m from District 12.

Coyote’s eyes fall to the ground. You can see it written across his face--the grief, the shock. His brows knit and his lips turn down.

Oh baby :(((((

“He hasn’t done anything except crop his own shirts and-and make goo-goo eyes at Gale. Right? Something isn’t right here.”

LMFAOOOOO SO TRUE!!

“Bradley isn’t my best friend,” Phoenix whispers. “Bob was.”

Oof, poor word choice Javy🥲

“You mean you?” Phoenix asks--her tone is pointed and frustrated, but you’re not angry with her.

Natasha pls😭😭

“If he’s possessed…” Phoenix starts, scratching her head and wilting beneath the sun like a flower. “Could we get him back? Or is he gone for good?”

Phoenix is me messaging Millie after every update LMFAO

“What if we burned the ax?” Coyote says. “Like, that’s what happens in The Evil Dead. They burn the book and--!”

So true Javy!! Become Ash Williams!!

“Look,” Coyote starts, glaring at Phoenix. His palms are sweaty. “We all know that you’re aching real bad about Bob, okay? But you’re not the only one who lost someone today. We all lost people today. We all lost Bob today.”

I mean… he has a point. Sorry babe. :(

“I need you guys to move the rock and lock me in there with him,” you tell them. Your fingers are numb. “And don’t let us out until it’s over.”

I’m going to throw up I’m so tense

It’s been a cruel, cruel summer.

She said it!! She said the thing!!

“Birdie…”

No. Stop right now.

“Birdie--what…what’s going on? Why am I tied up?”

No more pretending to be him you stupid mf I will literally suplex you

“Please, I know this summer hasn’t been stellar, but don’t do this! Birdie, please!”

I did laugh at this though LMAO

“You fucking whore!” He screams. “God--look what you’ve--you fucking bitch! You’re killing him! You’re killing him!”

I would literally start sobbing I’m not going to lie

“Do you think I can’t find you again? I’ve been watching you for three summers��I saw what you did with him in the woods. I saw what you did with Jakey-boy in your cabin, you whore. I see everything you do. I’m always here. I live in your nightmares!”

😦

“You’re leaving your friends again,” he whispers softly to you. “The ones you abandoned before…they’ve been calling out your name. They’ve been waiting for you. They want you to come to them. They’re all alone. And they’re so scared, dolly…they’re so scared without you there.”

What the fuck what the fuck what the fuck

“Hold on,” you whisper to Bradley’s body. “Just hold on, alright?”

I CRY!!!!!

So like… Jake’s dead, right? No one’s gone back for him and he’s surely bled out by now🥲

𝐂𝐑𝐔𝐄𝐋 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐄𝐑 — 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐍

—𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐂𝐑𝐈𝐏𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍: 𝐀𝐍 𝐇𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐓 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐔𝐑𝐕𝐈𝐕𝐎𝐑𝐒. 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐀 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐍--𝐈𝐓 𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐒 𝐈𝐍 𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐃𝐒𝐇𝐄𝐃. —𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐒: 𝟔.𝟗𝐊 —𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 —𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 —𝐕𝐈𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐁𝐎𝐀𝐑𝐃 —𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐕𝐈𝐎𝐔𝐒 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐍 𝐆𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐓 𝐎𝐀𝐊𝐒, 𝐌𝐄 𝐂𝐀𝐌𝐏 𝐀𝐑𝐂𝐀𝐃𝐈𝐀 𝐉𝐔𝐋𝐘 𝟐𝟐𝐍𝐃, 𝟏𝟗𝟖𝟕

Panting, you stand over his body. He’s alive--his chest is rising and falling, his lashes are fluttering, and his fingers are twitching. Already there’s a violet bruise beginning to blossom in the middle of his forehead, one that will rise and ache. But for now, as you try to catch your breath and stop the ringing in your ears, he’s out cold.

And for one fleeting moment, as everything around you becomes muffled from the blood cottoning your ears, you’re overcome with envy. Envy that he is lying down, with his eyes closed, and his body at rest. Envy that he can just be.

What you wouldn’t give to just lie down and be.

His lashes flutter again--Bradley’s lashes. He doesn’t wake, doesn’t really stir. He looks, almost, peaceful. But this thing lying before you, the one wearing the skin of the man that loves you like a sacrilegious coat, does not deserve peace. Bradley does. Wherever he is, if he is alive, if he is dead, if he is asleep, if he is awake…Bradley deserves peace.

The envy fades just as suddenly as it appears--replaced with an immeasurable, gut-wrenching rage. One that dominates the ache in your muscles and the tired in your bones and the heaviness of your eyelids and the thumping inside of your chest. It burns your fingertips--singes the ends of your hair and makes all the blood come rushing to your face.

“Fuck you,” you whisper to all this flesh and bone. Your voice does not sound like it’s coming from your mouth--it sounds like it’s coming from the mouth of a woman disturbed, pushed to the brink, close to the edge, enervated, frantic. And with a resounding and overwhelming heave, you realize that all of this is true. “I got you.”

Of course, you’re not talking to Bradley when you say this. You’re only looking at him.

He does not respond.

Reaching into your pocket, your grip still firm on the shotgun, you finger the casings you have left. Four. You have four bullets left. And for the first time today--for the first time in a few days, really--you feel lucky. Lucky like you’ve just plucked a four-leafed clover beneath a double-rainbow beside a heads-up penny.

Okay, you think. I have to move.

Coyote is standing at the bus doors, eyes narrowed on the crease as if Bradley is somehow going to slip in when he’s not looking.

It’s been almost thirty minutes since the two of you left the bus barn and you haven’t come back. Bradley hasn’t come back either, which he’s sure must mean something good. But everyone heard it--the gunshot. It’s been very quiet since then.

His fingers are beginning to tremble as he grips the butcher knife. He keeps repeating it in his head, chewing over it like a mantra: c’mon, Gale. C’mon, Gale. C’mon, Gale.

Phoenix is huddled up with all the campers at the back of the bus, her eyes wide and her mouth closed tight. She cannot rid herself of this horrified expression--and she hasn’t been able to stop crying since Bob died in her arms.

Time keeps flitting forward--children keep whispering, Coyote keeps careful watch over the entrance, Bob grows cold at the front of the bus beneath a pile of donated jackets, palms grow sweaty on the grips of knives--and she can do nothing to stop it. The world just keeps moving and she’s staying right where she is; on this bus.

You’re not back yet. And with every aching moment that marches on, she grows more accustomed to the thought of you lying dead in the woods. It is not a comfortability with which she settles into this--but merely a placid acceptance. Something she cannot change. Something she cannot fix. Another one of her friends dead and gone.

She’s just here on this bus.

“Anything?” Phoenix asks--her voice is thin and muffled from all the children crowding her, each one elbowing another for a spot beside her and away from the windows. “At all?”

Coyote doesn’t look away from the bus doors.

“Nothing,” he whispers.

It’s quiet. A few of the campers are whimpering--Phoenix doesn’t have it in her to comfort them right now. Not when she can’t stop crying herself. Not when this terrible numbness is crawling up her legs like leeches in warm, waist-deep water.

“Is Miss Nightingale going to come back?” A quiet voice pipes up from the back. Phoenix can’t tell who’s talking--doesn’t even turn her head to attempt to find out. “Or did Mister Rooster do something…do something real bad?”

“She’ll come back,” Coyote answers, his tone even and serious. He holds onto the handle of his knife harder. C’mon, Gale. “She always does, right?”

“So far,” Phoenix whispers.

She thinks of you, splayed out on the dirt, not quite fast enough to outrun Bradley. Dying just within the reach of his fingertips, your hair caught in his fists when he lunges forward, your foot slipping on a rock and giving Bradley the opportunity to come forward and take you. One minuscule mistake, one lapse in your stride, one wrong placement of your foot on the earth and you’re gone. Just like that. Just like Bob.

“C’mon,” Coyote whispers underneath his breath. He’s a few moments away from clasping his hands together and praying out loud--would even drop to his knees right now to see you again. “C’mon, Gale. C’mon, now. Get on back here, girl. C’mon.”

“Should we go looking for her?” Another camper asks.

“Mister Rooster would get us!” Another returns.

Coyote can hear it now--the way in which this will all become folklore. Another story to be told around a fire, one inexperienced mouth to another, hands sticky with s’mores as they gesture. Chocolate thick on their tongue when they utter the words he got four of the counselors and the groundskeeper.

For the first time since you left, he peels his gaze from the door to look at all the wide-eyes staring back at him. Everyone is waiting for him to do something, save everyone.

“It’s alright,” Coyote says to them. His voice is quivering. “She’s gonna come back.”

He wonders if they’ll remember him saying that. He wonders if they’ll remember anything he said or did. He wonders if they’ll remember the way his voice trembled.

The younger ones will have faint memories of this, like fingerprints pressed in drying clay--not fully molded, only an impression. The older ones will remember this all, yes, but it will become muddled and fragmented as the years roll forward. They will imagine more blood and less time. They will imagine phantom cuts and bruises and that it was night instead of day. Little details like this--like your hair color and what shoes they were wearing--will change constantly.

But certain parts will be true: they will always remember Nurse Nightingale pointing a gun at Mister Rooster, covered in blood and screaming for him to get away from the bus, from them. They will always remember what Miss Phoenix sounded like when Mister Bob died right there in front of everyone, his body pale and bloody and her wails deafening. They will remember being crowded in the back of the bus, waiting for the other shoe to drop, shoulder-to-shoulder. They will remember the frenzy of lanterns and flashlights as they scrambled from their cabins into the mess hall because there was an emergency. They will always remember Mister Coyote standing at the front of the bus and waiting for you to come back.

“Are you sure she’s coming back?” One of the children asks Coyote. Just a small little thing, barely tall enough to see over the seat. One of Rooster’s, he’s sure. Two little brown eyes peering into Coyote’s. “Or did she leave--did she leave us?”

“She wouldn’t leave us,” Coyote says instantly.

He swallows hard, looks back at the doors. You’re still not here.

“Maybe she ran,” one of the older campers offers, shaking his head as his eyes fill with tears. “Maybe she--maybe she got away!”

“No,” Coyote insists, eyes screwed shut. “She wouldn’t leave us.”

“I hope not,” Phoenix whispers. But she knows, just as well as anyone else, that if you’ve left them behind it is because you are not alive anymore. “I really, really hope not.”

A gunshot suddenly ripples across camp--so loud that it startles Coyote.

“Oh, my God,” a camper shrieks. “She shot Mister Rooster!”

“He probably got the gun!” Another says.

“Hush,” Phoenix urges. She swallows hard. “Be quiet now.”

And then another gunshot rings out--vibrates the gravel and bounces off the loudspeaker that is still playing a jumbled Kate Bush tape.

“Fuck,” Coyote whispers, his heart beginning to hammer. “Shit--what does that mean?”

The third gunshot blasts through the air before anyone can answer.

“Wait a minute,” Timmy Creighton suddenly says from the very back of the bus. “Wait a minute--that was--wait, that was three gunshots!”

“Miss Nightingale shot Mister Rooster three times!”

“No,” Timmy says, shaking his head. “That means help! Three times--S. O. S.. S.O.S!”

Coyote turns to him, eyebrow perched, hope springing to life in his chest like wildflowers after a rainstorm.

“How do you know that?” Phoenix asks, brows furrowed.

“I’m a boy scout,” he answers incredulously. Like, duh. Of course. That’s how.

“S.O.S.?” Coyote asks. “So, that could be Gale--!”

“--Or it could be him,” Phoenix interrupts, brows furrowed. “We don’t know.”

Coyote stares at her.

“But it could be her.”

Phoenix swallows hard.

“We don’t know that it’s her,” she says, shaking her head.

“We don’t know that it’s not,” Coyote says back.

They stare at each other for a moment.

“I’m not leaving the bus,” she says softly. She gestures to the children. “None of us are.”

Coyote’s brow furrows. He adjusts his grip on the knife, holds it tighter.

“But Gale is out there,” he says.

“So is he,” Phoenix returns softly. “And he’s already picked off five of us.”

Now Coyote looks at the ground. Bob’s body is only a few feet away from him. And Jake--God, he can’t even think about Jake right now. He won’t let himself think about him. If he thinks about his best friend dead, bloody, axed--he might just crumble. He might just fold.

But you. You’re someone he can help. You’re someone that just shot three times. S.O.S.. And what if he were the one that shot three times? You would come running with open arms and wide eyes. He knows it. He does. He can feel it in his soul.

“You stay,” Coyote finally says, glancing back up at Phoenix and the campers. “I’ll go.”

“But Mister Coyote, what if he gets you?” Timmy asks.

“Yeah,” another camper agrees, nodding earnestly with their brows drawn together. “Then who’s gonna save us?”

Coyote swallows hard, heart thumping. He shrugs, feigning a cool attitude.

“Couldn’t if he tried,” he says. He limply points to his bulging biceps and gives everyone the only smile he can muster--which is a very weak one. “Look at these guns, huh? Who’d wanna tussle with me?”

No one responds.

“Be careful,” Phoenix says quietly. She won’t allow the fear she’s feeling to spill over and into the air around her--not around the children. “Don’t…don’t die.”

“I won’t,” Coyote says.

And he means it.

Coyote, simply put, is more frightened than he’s ever been as he begins to tread through the woods. He’s walking as carefully as he can, trying not to snap twigs or kick stones. He’s holding the knife and his breath, glancing out the corner of his eye at every sound that isn’t Kate Bush.

The sun is high in the sky--he’d guess it’s not even noon yet. The heat pours down over him, holding him in a flannel blanket as he treks carefully. His grip on the knife is harsh--he knows for certain that it’s not going anywhere.

“Gale?” He whispers--he knows you won’t be able to hear him with his voice this low, but he’s too afraid to speak any louder in case Phoenix was right. “Gale?”

You don’t respond. His heart is pounding his chest, his blood is rushing through his ears.

He’s expecting, partly, Bradley to suddenly jump out at him. He must be ducked behind a tree, his ears perked, waiting for the precise moment to collapse Coyote with brute strength. And if he goes down, if Bradley gets the upper hand, Coyote knows that it will end in his own bloodshed.

The thought makes him dizzy.

“Gale,” he calls again, a little louder.

Again, though--nothing. Just the sound of flittering mosquitos and bumbling bees.

And it’s a few more paces, a few more steps, when he suddenly feels the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end like something is watching him. Like someone is watching him.

Quickly, his head is on a swivel. And at first, he doesn’t see you. Covered in blood and mud and barefoot, you almost fit in right up against the oak trees and the leaves. But there you are, yards away from him, holding the gun and the ax as you stare at Bradley’s collapsed body on the ground.

“Gale?” Coyote asks wearily, eyebrows raised.

At once, you find his eyes. Your face is calm and flat, your hair matted and your clothes thoroughly dyed with blood. But there is a ring of your flesh on your throat that is on total display right now, all flesh and no blood--and he knows it’s from where Bradley tried to strangle you. Kill you.

“Javy,” you whisper--your voice is ragged and raw.

He wonders, momentarily, if it will sound like that forever now that you’ve been choked within an inch of your life.

Neither of you move for a moment as Coyote takes in the scene. There is too much sunlight for such a nasty sight. Too much gore and blood and bugs for the sun to be shining down on you the way it is right now.

“He’s not…dead…is he?”

“No,” you answer, shaking your head. “Just out cold. For now.”

Coyote nods.

“Any of that blood yours?” Coyote asks, gesturing to you with the knife.

Swallowing, you begin to shake your head--but then you remember. Your shoulder.

“Some,” you whisper to him, sniffling. “Not a lot.”

Coyote takes a deep breath.

“Whose is it?”

He’s terrified for you to answer him--but he needs to know.

Your bottom lip wobbles suddenly. You shift all your weight to your left hip and hold the ax closer to you, glancing down at Bradley. Still out. Then you take a deep breath.

“Jake’s,” you answer. “It’s his.”

Coyote’s eyes fall to the ground. You can see it written across his face--the grief, the shock. His brows knit and his lips turn down. And then he takes a deep breath.

“Yeah, I figured as much,” he says. “And Bradley…?”

“It’s not…it’s not him,” you whisper. Sucking in a deep breath, you suddenly choke. You’re not sure what else to say, how else to explain it. “Well, it’s him, but it isn’t. He isn’t--it’s…it’s the maniac.”

You’re worried, for the first time today, that someone will accuse you of losing your everloving mind. That Coyote will scoff at you and try to get far, far away from you and your insanity.

But when you look at him, he’s just looking back at you in total earnest.

“And you know that…how?”

Shaking your head, eyes fluttering closed, you sigh.

“He told me,” you whisper. Your voice is still so hoarse--and your breaths are ragged. “When he…after he hurt Jake. He told me everything.”

“The maniac did?” Coyote asks. His fingers are tingling.

If anyone else were to say this to him, anyone in the world, he’d disbelieve them. But it’s you--and he knows, deep in his heart, that you have been closer to death and gore here than anyone else. And he believes you as firmly as his feet are planted on the earth.

“Yes,” you answer. “Please believe me. Please, I know how it sounds--!”

“--I believe you,” Coyote answers, brows furrowed. He looks down at Bradley’s body again. “So…what do we do now?”

You follow his gaze. The bruise on Bradley’s head is growing into a deep, deep purple now. Purple like the irises that have suddenly sprouted up everywhere.

“Tie him down,” you whisper. “Don’t let him out again.”

Coyote nods.

“I can drag ‘im if you can carry the weapons,” Coyote offers. He knows your strength must be waning, knows that you must be fading fast and hard at this point. “Deal?”

“Deal,” you whisper, relieved.

♀

Phoenix looks between the two of you, tired and scared and in mourning, her eyes heavy-lidded and her lips twisted.

“So…he’s possessed?” She asks.

You nod, can’t even muster the strength to utter yes.

“I know it sounds crazy,” Coyote starts, sucking in a breath.

“Yeah, it does,” Phoenix agrees. She looks at you. “I want you to tell me what you told him that’s made him so gung-ho on this possession idea. Alright?”

“She didn’t have to tell me much,” Coyote says, hands on his hips.

He glances at the nurse’s cabin, where Bradley is tied down to the bed. He still isn’t awake yet--you got him good. A pride swells in Coyote when he thinks about it; you slamming the butt of the shotgun down on Bradley’s head, preserving his life but halting his maliciousness.

“I don’t get it,” Phoenix says. She sighs in exasperation, pinches the bridge of her nose. “What about…this says possession instead of just Bradley lost his fucking mind?”

“I mean--look around us, Nix. Does this seem like a normal summer to you? Has Bradley ever so much as killed a fucking bug before this summer? Or the one before? Or the one before that?” Coyote asks, throwing his hands up in the air. Phoenix blinks at him. “The answer is a big, fat no. He hasn’t. He hasn’t done anything except crop his own shirts and-and make goo-goo eyes at Gale. Right? Something isn’t right here.”

“But why does that mean he’s possessed by the fucking maniac?” Phoenix asks, groaning. “Maybe he…maybe he hid the crazy until this summer.”

“We’re his best friends,” Coyote says, scoffing. “We would see it before.”

Phoenix’s lip twitches.

“Bradley isn’t my best friend,” Phoenix whispers. “Bob was.”

No one speaks for a moment. You take a deep breath--nearly wobbling on your feet.

“He was cut with the ax thirty years to the day of the original murders,” you point out. You think of the newspaper from earlier. July 19th--that was the publication date. But the murders had to have happened before then. “And he told me. Alright? He told me everything.”

“Well, crazy people like to talk,” Phoenix says. Her fingers are tingling. “Why are we believing him? He killed Bob!”

“We know that,” Coyote snaps. He throws his arms in the air, eyes wide. “He fucking killed Jake, too! And Reuben and Mickey. Fucking--he killed Paul, Phoenix! We know that!”

Sensing thats things are going to become too heated between Phoenix and Coyote, as her cheeks redden and his eyes grow wider, you put her hand up.

“Let’s not lose our heads,” you say, voice soft and even but still gravely. “Listen, all I know is that before this summer, Bradley never so much as…he wouldn’t ever hurt anyone.”

“You mean you?” Phoenix asks--her tone is pointed and frustrated, but you’re not angry with her.

She softens when you nod, raise your blood-rimmed eyes to hers.

“Yes,” you whisper. “He would never hurt me.”

She shifts all her weight to her other hip, sighing deeply. Coyote is still looking at her, arms crossed, waiting for a fight. But then she looks up at you, eyes deep and sorrowful.

“Tell me what he told you,” she whispers, really meaning it.

Coyote’s shoulders fall--thank God. Thank fucking God.

So, you tell her everything. Every bit, every detail, every morsel. Jake’s body on top of yours. Bradley’s quiet and calculated plan. The mask that slipped. The chase through the woods. The blood that was shed.

And by the end of it, the three of you are standing out in the courtyard, your gazes listless and your guts empty and aching. Phoenix’s brows are blanched and her heart is racing and she can’t believe this is happening to her. Not here, in Maine of all places, at camp at all places. How is this happening to her? To all of you?

“So, what do we do now?” Coyote asks, voice soft.

“I don’t know,” you answer, eyes screwed shut.

“I mean, you guys tied him to the exam table pretty good, right? Will it hold him?” Phoenix asks, glancing up at the two of you. She knows, as soon as she sees both of your faces, that the answer is a resounding no. “Okay…so, what? What do we do?”

“We have to…” Coyote starts. He stops, sighs, shakes his head. “I can’t even say it.”

“What?” Phoenix asks.

You clear your throat and swat a mosquito away from your face.

“We aren’t killing him,” you say to Coyote, sad and quiet. There is no anger in your bones when you say it--he’s doing what he can. All of you are. No one knows what to do and you don’t expect anything any of you says to be right or wrong. “We can’t…I can’t do that.”

Phoenix shakes her head.

“I mean, he killed everyone…” she whispers. “Wouldn’t it be…I don’t know, just? If we did it.”

“No,” you answer. Your fingers are trembling--you clasp your hands together and sniffle. “No one else dies.”

“But--!”

You look at Phoenix right in the eyes, squinting slightly as the blood clumping your lashes flakes off. Again, you’re not angry. You understand her grief. You understand her desire for justice. You understand where she’s coming from.

“Please don’t make me kill anyone,” you whisper to her. “I can’t…I can’t do it.”

All three of you know that you would be the one to do it, because as strong as Coyote is and as vengeful as Phoenix is, you’re the only one that can stomach death. Death and its scent and its touch and its taste. Only you.

“So, we don’t kill him,” Coyote says. “That leaves us with…what options?”

“If he’s possessed…” Phoenix starts, scratching her head and wilting beneath the sun like a flower. “Could we get him back? Or is he gone for good?”

The thought of Bradley being gone forever makes a deep, endless pit open up in your belly. You feel like it will swallow you whole--so you bat it away, shake your head.

“I don’t know,” you whisper. “He said he was…gone.”

Coyote leans forward.

“But in…like, in The Exorcist, they say the demon fights psychologically. Maybe that’s--maybe that’s what he’s doing, right? Lying.”

“Well, if this were The Exorcist, we’d be short a couple priests. All we have is Mable,” Phoenix says. “And I don’t think it’d be the same.”

“Oh, real nice, Nix,” Coyote says, shaking his head. “That’s a great attitude to have.”

The tension between them is beginning to grow warm--only a spark now, but you feel that it will soon be an ember glowing orange on this sunny, blue day.

Staring at the ground, squinting, trying to remember what happens at the end of The Exorcist, you’re hardly breathing.

“What happens?” You ask suddenly. “What happens, like, at the end of that movie?”

“The demon moves from one body to another,” Coyote answers, brows drawn together. “And then…the new host kills themselves.”

It’s quiet for a moment between the three of you--quiet except for the jumbled Kate Bush tape still playing over the loudspeaker. The lot of you have almost entirely tuned it out by now.

“No,” you whisper. It’s not an option. “What else can we do?”

No one says anything for a long moment.

“It was his blood, right?” Coyote asks. “Like, that’s what started the whole possession thing? He cut himself on the ax--well, he cut himself on the ax.”

“Yes,” you answer. “That’s at least what he--what he told me.”

“What if we burned the ax?” Coyote says. “Like, that’s what happens in The Evil Dead. They burn the book and--!”

“--Are we just going to keep suggesting things that happens in movies?” Phoenix asks. “Because this isn’t a movie, Javy. People are dead.”

“He knows that,” you say, heart squeezing. “Do you have any better ideas, Nix? Really.”

She doesn’t say anything.

“I mean, if blood starts it…blood’s gotta end it, right?”

“Oh, the Chekov’s gun of it all,” Phoenix grumbles.

But then her spine prickles--it’s what Bob would say.

Blood. You think about it as you look down at your hands--they’re covered in the stuff. Vital to life, but so commonly on the outside of flesh. A skinned knee. A bump on the head. A knick while shaving. A papercut.

“Virgin blood is strong--pure. Untainted. That’s what…that’s what happened last time, you see. Nurse Abbott was waiting until marriage. I picked ‘em off one-by-one until she was alone…”

“We could bleed him out,” Phoenix sighs, not serious. Her tone is sour, bitter. “That oughta show him.”

Phoenix, her brows furrowed and her lips twisted, begins to respond before you suddenly stand and interrupt them.

“We used to use leeches,” you say, eyes wide.

Phoenix and Coyote blink at you, their eyes heavy and their mouths flat and their brows furrowed. You can see plainly on their faces that they’re wondering if you’re losing it finally--if the exhaustion is finally settling in.

“What?” Phoenix asks.

“We used to use leeches--like, whenever someone had a sickness or something, medical doctors would use leeches.”

Coyote blinks at you.

“What do you mean?”

Your fingers are tingling as you wring them together, clearing your throat. There is a film of phlegm there that is making your voice hoarse still.

“Bloodletting,” you tell them. “It--I mean, it’s been around forever. We’re talking, like, 470 B.C. kinda forever, right? Of course, like, at first everyone had a really simple view of what it did and diseases and everything. But then--God, was it like two or three years ago? Some coat from Harvard attached a leech to a tike’s ear after it’d been bitten off by a dog. It was big news. And, I mean, it’s kind of the same idea as replacement therapy.”

“Like dialysis?” Coyote asks. “My grandpa does that.”

“Yeah,” you answer. “Just--just like that.”

“Okay,” Phoenix says, trying to digest your ramblings. “And what does that have to do with us?”

Slowly, you sink back down. They watch you carefully.

“If it starts with blood, it ends with blood,” you whisper. “We don’t have a lot of other options or ideas, do we?”

“No,” Phoenix answers. “But where the fuck are we gonna get leeches?”

“Yeah,” Coyote echoes, scratching the back of his head.

Shaking your head, you breathe out shakily.

“I can bleed him out,” you say. “I can do it.”

With wide eyes, Phoenix sucks in a surprised breath. Her heart is hammering.

“I was just messing,” she says, shaking her head. “Damn, I wasn’t serious!”

“I don’t think you should go near him,” Coyote says. He’s staring at the naked bit of your throat where your life was almost taken away from you. “I don’t think any of us should, really. It’s not safe. We’ll be dead meat if we do.”

“Look, if we don’t do something, we’re dead,” you say very seriously, looking into both their eyes. “Our friends are already dead. It’s just--it’s just us now, okay? No one is coming to help. Penny and Mav--shit, they’re still a while away from the next supply run. We’ve gotta do something. We can’t just keep running. We can’t just--we can’t just keep sitting here.”

Phoenix’s tongue is totally dry. She’s watching you very carefully right now--you seem somber and sober. You seem, she realizes, more stable than you have since this all started. A certain calm has come over you, one that wraps you up in its arms and keeps your ragged voice even.

“We can take shifts,” Coyote offers, his voice soft. “You can teach us how to shoot.”

You shake your head.

“No,” you whisper. “You two--you’ve gotta keep those campers alive, alright? That’s your job.”

“What even is it that you want to do, huh?” Coyote asks. He settles his hands on his hips. “Give us the download.”

“I’m gonna bleed him out,” you whisper. It all sounds so much crazier out loud--it feels like you’re talking to them from behind a thick fog, one that smells sweet and dampens your hair. “And then I’m gonna--fuck, I’m gonna stitch him up. Give him blood from the blood drive.”

“Shit,” Coyote hisses. “We don’t know if that’ll work.”

“No,” Phoenix agrees. “We don’t. And what if he doesn’t wake up? What if the blood isn’t enough?”

Spine tingling, you chew on your lower lip. The blood you’re tasting isn’t your own.

“Timmy Creighton,” you whisper.

“What?” Phoenix asks. “The kid who’s allergic to nuts?”

“That’s our savior?” Coyote follows. “We’re fucked. The kid tried to eat a Snickers bar last week!”

“No,” you answer, shaking your head. “Epi--it’s adrenaline. It’s what we use at the hospital when we resuscitate.”

Phoenix furrows her brows.

“So, it can help like…”

“Bring him back,” you say. Your stomach turns, but you persist. “If I lose him, I can bring him back.”

Coyote shifts uncomfortably, the thought of losing another friend today boggling his mind. His temple pulses.

“So, what do we do?” He asks. “How can we help?”

Taking a deep, deep breath, you glance at the nurse’s cabin. You know that he’s in there--and he’ll be waking up soon.

“I need you guys to move the rock and lock me in there with him,” you tell them. Your fingers are numb. “And don’t let us out until it’s over.”

“Nightingale,” Phoenix says, shaking her head. “I don’t want to do that.”

“Yeah,” Coyote agrees. “Me neither.”

“What choice do we have?” You say quietly. “We have to do something. We have to do something.”

Coyote sighs, leaning forward to hold his head in his hands. If he loses you, too--he doesn't know what he’s going to do. He’s so tired, he’s so scared and the thought of you locked in the room with Bradley is turning his stomach sour.

“Why can’t we do it together?” Phoenix asks. “I mean, really!”

“You would just get in the way,” you whisper solemnly. “I can do this.”

“But can you?” Coyote asks, his tone edged but not malicious. He shrugs at you, mouth ajar. “He almost got you, Gale. He almost got you.”

“But he didn’t,” you whisper, still feeling Bradley’s fingers wrapped around your throat.

“Because of him,” Phoenix defends. “You shouldn’t do this alone.”

“I have to,” you whisper, shaking your head. Your eyes are wet. “You two…you have to keep the kids safe. Nothing can happen to them, alright?”

His words ring in your ears.

“And when I’ve finished the kiddos off, I’ll come back for you.”

“And what if he gets you, huh?” Coyote asks, his tone biting your ears. “Fuck--I mean, Jesus, Gale. What about us?”

“I’ll kill him if I have to,” you say, though your tongue burns when you say it. “He isn’t getting out--!”

“--We can’t lose you, too,” Phoenix interrupts. Sincerity drips from her tongue. “Please.”

Turning away from them, you shut your eyes for a moment. In all the hustle, in all the grief, you completely forgot that the Kate Bush tape is still playing over the loudspeaker. It’s loud enough for you to hear over the cicadas.

Like the sun coming out

I just know that something good is gonna happen

“Lock me in,” you whisper. You can’t look at their grief-stricken faces. Two tears fall from your cheeks. “Don’t let me out.”

“Gale…” Coyote whispers.

Glancing around camp, desolate and quiet, your heart squeezes. Only a few days ago, you were warding off Bradley and Coyote as you took Jake’s blood. Only a few days ago, you’re biggest concern was who you were going to end up with at the end of August. Only a few days ago, Bob and Phoenix were leading a game of Red Rover. Fanboy and Payback hosted finger football at their lunch table. Laughter echoed off the gravel. The lake lapped at the rocky shore. The trees were tall and sweet as they scraped the sky. You were bandaging scraped elbows and pulling out splinters. You were running your fingers through Jake’s hair, the sun warm on your cheeks, the crickets singing you a song. You were singing Joni Mitchell around a fire. You were smoking marijuana with your friends and sinking into the soft grass. You were reading Carrie by lamp-light. Lightning bugs used to land on your shins. Cicadas and owls used to sing you to sleep. Jake used to take you by the hand and dance with you in front of everyone, even if you were too shy, even if you were too embarrassed. Bradley said he loved you. So did Jake.

But it’s all over now.

It’s been a cruel, cruel summer.

“Do it,” you whisper softly. “It ends now. It has to end now.”

“You’re gonna kill him?” Phoenix whispers.

Nodding, your tongue quivers in your mouth.

“It doesn’t have to be big and scary,” you mutter. “It doesn’t have to be violent.”

“Death is always violent,” Coyote says, thinking of Jake and Reuben and Mickey and Paul. “There’s nothing peaceful about it.”

But they’re wrong. You know that they’re wrong. You’ve seen it--you’ve seen it so close that you’ve tasted it. It can be peaceful. It can be as easy as falling asleep. It can be as easy as exhaling. It can be as easy as coughing. You’ll make it easy for Bradley.

“I’ll make it peaceful,” you whisper.

It’s more of a promise to Bradley wherever he is. You’ll be gentle.

“Gale,” Coyote says, shaking his head. “I just…”

“She has to do it,” Phoenix says now, her tone soft. She looks you in the eyes, hers rimmed with red and tearful. “Bring him back, okay?”

“Okay,” you say. “I will.”

♀

He isn’t awake yet.

From where you’re standing beside him, your body numb and your eyes stuck on his placid face, you could almost mistake him for sleeping. Eyes fluttered shut, brows unknit, lips flat, body still. Except for the blood splattering his clothing and skin and the welt on his head, maybe anyone could mistake him for sleeping.

Exhaling, you look over at everything laid out beside you. Swiss army knife. Gauze. Suture kit. Adrenaline injections. Bags of blood--your blood--on ice. Universal donor. Morphine tablets. Everything you need to drain him of this evil and then bring him back.

It’s sweltering in here--that’s why you usually always keep the door open. But now you’re locked in, the door barricaded and the windows reinforced. The heat seeps in like a wave.

This will be better if he doesn’t wake up.

And with that thought, you reach for the latex gloves, slowly slipping your hands into them. No movement from Bradley. It’s not until you shakily hold the Swiss army knife that his brows come together.

A low groan falls from his lips as you bring the blade out.

“Birdie…”

Your belly turns itself inside out.

When you don’t answer, too petrified to move, too scared to say anything, Bradley’s eyes open. And your chest feels empty when you see those eyes: no flecks of gold in his irises. Just a deeper, darker brown. Void of anything except rage.

“What’s going on?” He asks, sounding remarkably like Bradley. He looks down, realizes he’s tied to the examination table, then looks back up at you with a pitiful expression of confusion eating his features. “Birdie--what…what’s going on? Why am I tied up?”

“Stop calling me that,” you whisper to him, shaking your head.

He brings how brows together, mouth ajar, then sees that you’re holding a knife. And he jerks away--a real show of wide eyes and gasps.

“What--what are you gonna do with that?”

“Drop the act,” you whisper, shaking your head. “You’re cornered.”

“Birdie, please don’t do this!” He says, beginning to wail. The heat is turning his cheeks bright red. “Please, I know this summer hasn’t been stellar, but don’t do this! Birdie, please!”

“Stop calling me that,” you demand again, your voice louder. You look deep, deep into his eyes and keep your gaze there besides the chill that climbs your spine. “You’re not him.”

He’s about to argue--about to fight you on it--when it dawns on him that you aren’t scared right now. No, no. He can tell. He can feel it. There is not even an ounce of fear in your being right now--just rage. Blinding, serious rage.

“Fine,” he says, tone calmer than before. He smiles softly. “What’re you gonna do, dolly? What’s the plan? What’re you gonna do with that?”

WIth a firm grip on the red handle of the knife, you breathe deeply.

“I’m going to cut your radial artery,” you say softly, just like you would to a patient. “It’s in your wrist. I’m gonna bleed you out…let you die. And then I’m going to bring Bradley back.”

He laughs--a big and booming thing.

“Oh, is that so?” He says tauntingly. “Well, you’ve got it all figured out, then. As if you would be able to do it, dolly. You don’t have the guts.”

“I do,” you whisper. “I’ve got the guts.”

“You love him,” he whispers. “You’re weak like that.”

Swallowing hard, you shake your head.

“I’m bringing him back,” you say.

“He’s gone,” he argues, brows knit. He tugs on the restraints--they’re tight. Too tight to get out of right away. “And he’d need a blood transfusion.”

You point to the few bags of blood on the table, still cold from the ice.

“I have it,” you whisper. “I’m a universal donor.”

“But not a virgin,” he answers, smiling still.

You lean forward, eyes pouring into his.

“I was when I donated,” you tell him.

And before he can respond, before he can do anything at all, you bring the blade down on his wrist. It’s sharp--sharp like a scalpel in the operating room. He gasps, warm blood suddenly flooding the bed, but doesn’t have time to respond before you cut the other wrist.

Writhing, panicking, he looks at you.

“You fucking whore!” He screams. “God--look what you’ve--you fucking bitch! You’re killing him! You’re killing him!”

“I’m killing you!” You grunt.

Slamming the knife back down on the tray, you step back and watch for a moment. There is hot, wet blood on your hands again. Vaguely, distantly, you wonder if you’re going to have to scrape all this blood off. It clings to you like a second skin.

The hair on the back of your neck prickles as Bradley desperately pulls at the retraits, blood dripping from his body in a steady river of red.

“You fucking bitch,” he seethes. “Do you think I can’t find you again? I’ve been watching you for three summers…I saw what you did with him in the woods. I saw what you did with Jakey-boy in your cabin, you whore. I see everything you do. I’m always here. I live in your nightmares!”

Saying nothing, steeling yourself against his words, you continue watching. You’re counting to two minutes.

“Fear is what keeps me alive, dolly,” he grunts, struggling still. “And I will be alive until the world sinks into Hell. I’ll be here, waiting. Watching. Ready to crawl under the skin of another lovesick orphan.”

Shaking your head, you just keep watching. It’s strange watching Bradley bleed out--but it’s not him. It’s not him. It’s Damien. You have to repeat it to yourself over and over again. It’s Damien. It’s Damien.

And then, suddenly and completely, he goes entirely still. He’s just looking at you as blood covers the exam table and puts metal beneath your nose. He frowns, his eyebrows coming together. His face is beginning to grow pasty.

Lip twitching, you stay completely still.

“Jake needs you,” he whispers. “And he’s the one you chose all along, right? It’s always been him. Why even bring Bradley back if it’s not him that you love?”

Saliva gathers beneath your tongue. It’s approaching--you know it is. Can’t be long now.

“I can’t die,” he whispers. His voice is weak. His eyes are beginning to shut. “You can’t…you can’t…”

And then his head lulls to the side and he is dead.

It isn’t Bradley, but a sob rips from your throat anyway. He lies completely still, blood still flowing from his wrists. And without another moment to waste, you jump into action.

Packing his wrists with gauze with one panicked hand, you reach to feel his jugular with the other. It’s weak--probably just residual blood flow.

He’s gone. The evil is gone.

“Hold on,” you whisper to Bradley’s body. “Just hold on, alright?”

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theladyofdeath · 3 years ago

Text

Life As We Know It {Chapter 8}

Summary: After the sudden deaths of Nesta’s sister and Cassian’s best friend, they gain guardianship of their nephew, Nyx.

Based on Life As We Know It (2010) and a prompt sent in by anonymous for our Nessian fanfic contest. This is a modern au.

Instead of doing a tag list for this story, we have decided to have a set posting schedule. Chapters will be posted weekly on Mondays and Thursdays. Chapters will be posted on both my and Shelby’s blogs! >> @snelbz

Life As We Know It Masterlist

Shelby’s Masterlist

Tara’s Masterlist

Cassian didn’t have to go into the bar until noon, so until Viviane arrived for her first day at 11:30, it was just him and Nyx.

The sun was out, and Cassian intended to take full advantage of it. Nyx was in his stroller and Cassian was jogging down the side of the Sidra. He’d only had him for the last half hour.

After Cassian’s breakdown last night, Nesta had apparently decided to let Cassian sleep in. Before Nyx could even cry, Nesta had gotten him up, ready, and fed before she left for work that morning.

He was mortified that she’d had to see that, that he’d broken down in front of her like that. But there was so much of Rhys looking at him, all the time and he’d been holding it in for so long. And knowing that he hadn’t been able to figure out what Nyx needed was the final straw last night.

After Nesta had hugged him, he’d finally gotten the strength to pull himself together, and he pulled from her grasp. He’d noticed the dress she wore to go out then, showing just as much skin as that damn towel had, and had made an excuse about being exhausted. He’d shut himself in his room, staring at the ceiling until he fell asleep around two or three in the morning.

He wasn’t surprised she had barely wanted to see him this morning. She probably thought he was an irresponsible mess, probably figured she was better off taking care of Nyx on her own.

And maybe she was.

Nesta had some natural motherly instinct, just like Feyre and Elain had. It was an Archeron trait, Cassian had no doubt.

And although the Archeron sisters certainly hadn’t had a perfect upbringing, the three of them had always had each other.

Cassian couldn’t say the same.

His mom died young.

He’d never had a father.

Or siblings.

Or any other extended family.

He’d just had Rhysand and Azriel, and although fatherhood had come decently easy to both of them, Cassian couldn’t say the same for himself. He was the goofy, unpredictable uncle of the group, he was good in that role.

Not the ideal father figure.

Cassian picked up his speed.

Nyx giggled and threw his hands in the air.

Regardless of his mood, he couldn’t help but smile down at him.

He loved this kid, and he knew that this kid loved him. He may not be his father, but he would do his damndest to make sure he knew how much he was loved. Every damn day.

Cassian had just gotten out of the shower and gotten dressed when he heard the doorbell chime.

Nyx was standing in his playpen, holding onto the padded railing when Cassian rushed to the door, throwing it open.

“Viviane, hey,” he said, opening it wide enough for her to step through. She gave him a polite smile and he shut the door behind her. “Okay, so Nyx is over there, Nesta left a note on the fridge with our cell numbers, the number for her restaurant, my bar, uh, his pediatrician-.”

Viviane laughed quietly and headed for the playpen. “I’ll call you if I need anything, but I’m sure this little dude is going to be an angel.”

She reached down and scooped him up and Nyx did nothing but beam up at her.

“He’s in good hands,” Viviane went on when she saw the worry in Cassian’s eyes.

“I know,” he smiled, although hesitantly. “Nesta will be home at four-thirty.”

“We’re going to have fun,” Viviane promised, and Nyx giggled.

Cassian took that as cue to leave and hurried out the door. It was stressful, leaving him for the first time, alone with someone they had only just met.

He found himself wondering if Rhysand or Feyre would approve.

He prayed they did.

When he got to the bar, Kallias was already there, making sure everything was ready for opening.

“You’re two minutes late, boss,” he teased.

Cassian snorted. “New nanny. Had a hard time leaving.”

Kallias raised a brow. “Hot nanny?”

Cassian grinned as he came behind the bar. “Just your type, actually.”

Before the conversation could deepen, Cassian seeing the intrigue in Kal’s eye, he was heading to the store room, grabbing a few bottles to keep within reaching distance when they undoubtedly got a little busy over lunch.

“I like hot nannies,” Kallias hollered. “It would be nice of you to share.”

Cassian snorted, heading back up towards the bar. He didn’t reply, shaking his head as he glanced at his friend, and he set about cutting and readying the garnishes for drinks.

With a dramatic sigh, far louder than it needed to be for Cass to hear him, Kallias began turning on the televisions around the room, two on different sports broadcasts and one on a local music channel.

Maybe he would set Kallias up with Viviane.

Even he had to admit…they’d make a pretty damn cute couple.

It was just before 4:30 when Nesta pushed open the front door, prepared to find the house thrown into chaos.

But, it was spotless, Nyx was sleeping, and Viviane was on the couch, reading a book. She looked up at Nesta and smiled.

“You’re home,” she whispered, even though Nyx wasn’t in the room. “He’s been down for about forty-five minutes. We played hard today. I think he’s worn out.”

Nesta blinked, carefully stepping inside and shutting the door behind her. “He was good?”

“Oh, he was great,” Viviane promised, standing up and closing her book with a bookmark placed neatly between it’s pages. “Although, his diaper rash is getting pretty bad. I changed him more often to try and keep him as dry and rash-creamed as possible. But, you may want to keep an eye out. I’ve seen worse, but you still may want to get a prescription from his doctor to help clear it up.”

Nesta hadn’t even noticed that Nyx had had a rash and chastised herself. “Yes. Absolutely, I’ll make him an appointment as soon as I can.”

Viviane smiled again, stopping to grab her purse where it sat by the floor of the couch and dropped her book inside. It was well loved, Nesta could tell, and for a moment, she considered asking what the pretty, young woman was reading.

And then she remembered who she’d been here alone with that morning.

Her eyes popped open. “Oh, gods, I hope Cassian was okay this morning. He’s not…always on his best behavior.”

Viviane brows bunched towards each other, confusion on her face. “I don’t follow?”

“I hope he didn’t say anything too inappropriate,” she rushed out. “He can be a bit much in the mornings, and-.”

“Oh, no, no,” Viviane interrupted, her crystalline eyes going wide. “No, he was an absolute gentleman. On good behavior.” She then added, “And please, don’t mistake my enthusiasm for this job, Nesta, I’m not interested in your husband or anything like-.”

It was Nesta’s turn to interrupt. “Husband?! No, no, Cassian isn’t my husband. Cauldron, no we just have to live together. He’s not even my boyfriend. I can barely stand the guy.”

Viviane hesitated. “Oh, I’m sorry, I just assumed-.”

“It’s alright,” Nesta said, and knew her cheeks were red. “I could see how it would be easy to make that assumption.”

Viviane nodded and rocked back on her heels, uncomfortably. “Right, well...I’ll see you all tomorrow?”

“Absolutely,” Nesta said, trying her best to give a convincing smile.

She knew she was failing.

Convincing smiles weren’t her specialty.

But, husband? As if she would ever marry a man like Cassian. They may have had a moment where they didn’t absolutely loathe each other the night before, but that’s only because he was having a complete mental breakdown.

Nesta may be a bitch, but she wouldn’t kick a man when he’s already down.

Well, at least not in that situation. In a different set of circumstances, perhaps she would.

Viviane let herself out and Nesta said her goodbyes, and shook her head.

Husband.

Oh, fuck no.

After a quick call to Nyx’s pediatrician, and an appointment made for the following afternoon, Nesta set out to make dinner. Nothing too crazy, just a new recipe she’d been toying with at the restaurant and she needed an unbiased opinion - one from someone whom she didn’t employ - to give her an honest opinion. She knew Cassian would be at the bar until eight-thirty or nine, but the chicken salad would be better chilled anyways.

Or she thought it was. She’d have to ask what he thought about that.

She was halfway through chopping up the roast chicken she’d spiced and marinated all day when the monitor to her left let out a lonely cry. Washing her hands, Nesta was hurrying up the stairs and found Nyx standing in his crib. He immediately reached for her, those blue eyes still drowsy with sleep, but Nesta knew he needed to be changed as soon as she got within sniffing distance. Hopefully he’d be sleepy enough that he wouldn’t fight her on the diaper change.

“What did Cassian feed you for lunch, kiddo?” She asked, scrunching her nose as she unsnapped the onesie he wore, and swapped out his diaper for a clean one.

True to Viviane’s word, Nyx had developed a splotchy, red rash on his bottom. After setting Nyx up in a swing by the door, Nesta took a few minutes to Google what a normal case of diaper rash looked like. Afterwards, she had wiped her search history and was thankful she’d gone ahead and called the pediatrician’s office, especially considering they were now closed until the following morning.

She also had to figure out a way to thank Viviane for her suggestion. Nesta almost felt like she owed the girl an apology for her initial reaction to her, based on her assumptions of Cassian. Not that she had any idea how Nesta had felt, but she still felt bad.

She may know a few things about Cassian Nazari, but she knew nothing about Viviane, not yet. Nesta should really give her the benefit of the doubt.

Even though such a thing was not her specialty.

The second they walked into the kitchen, Nyx was crying and reaching toward the fridge. Nesta put him in his high chair, letting him cry it out as she fixed him supper.

In the meantime, she dumped a pile of strawberry puffs on his tray.

He was immediately stuffing them into his mouth.

“You know, I’ve tasted those and they’re not all that great,” Nesta said, preparing him a small bowl of sweet potatoes.

Nyx looked at her and held up a star-shaped puff.

She couldn’t help but chuckle. “No, but thank you for the offer.”

Nesta finished her salad and put the rest in the fridge for Cassian to eat once he got home. After taking a seat, and placing her salad and Nyx’s potatoes on the table, she dug in.

It was, obviously, delicious.

Nyx even seemed to be enjoying his sweet potatoes, though, as always more ended up on his high chair’s tray than in his mouth.

“You have an art for making a mess, buddy,” she said, shaking her head as she lifted another spoonful of the sweet potatoes to his mouth.

He took the bite into his mouth, and sprayed most of it back out in a raspberry.

She raised an eyebrow, setting the bowl down in front of her. “You’re just playing at this point, aren’t you?”

To say yes, in fact, he was, Nyx smacked a chubby hand into the mushed up mix of puffs and sweet potato on his tray.

“That means it’s bath time and then bed time,” she mused, wiping as much of him down as she could. She decided to go ahead and ditch his smeared onesie in the laundry room, and carried a diapered Nyx up to the bathroom.

A mostly uneventful bath later, she discovered Viviane must have been telling the truth about playing hard today. Nyx had been asleep before she’d made it through the second page of his favorite book, his pacifier falling out of his full, little lips.

She gently laid him down in the crib, and tiptoed downstairs to flip through bad reality TV until Cassian got home.

She hated how much she had thought about Cassian throughout the day. For once, it wasn’t about his body. Instead, it was about the fact that he had spent five minutes in her arms the night before, sobbing. She wasn’t sure what to think.

Cassian had a rough exterior.

He was known for his good looks and how many women those looks attracted. Since Nesta met him five years prior, there were only a handful of things she could say about Cassian.

He was beautiful, but that much was obvious.

He knew how to make beautiful instruments, which meant he was good with his hands.

Nesta would be lying if she said she hadn’t thought about just how good he was with those hands.

Lastly, Cassian was cocky as hell. He was hot. He knew he was hot. And he had to convince everyone who didn’t think he was hot that he was hot.

But, one thing that Nesta hadn’t known about Cassian until the night before?

He cared.

He really, really cared.

And he was scared.

She had been willing to put aside their differences for Nyx. They’d come to that agreement when he’d begun to depend on them. But now, she wanted to make things work…for him. He was terrified of letting Rhys down, something she understood. Every time she thought of something she may have done wrong, all she could think about was how disappointed Feyre would be in her.

Except…she knew that wasn’t true. Just like she knew that Rhys would never be disappointed in Cassian. The fact that he’d stepped up, had been willing to care for Rhys and Feyre’s only child…

She just had to make sure Cassian believed it.

Nesta was half asleep on the couch when the door unlocked and opened, Cassian walking through. He blinked once upon seeing her, clearly not having expected her to be downstairs when he got home.

“Hey,” she said, stretching. “How was your day?”

He tossed his keys on the table by the door, looking around, pointedly not looking at her. “It was good. Where’s Nyx?”

“He’s been down since seven-thirty or so, Viviane did great today,” she said, watching him as he walked into the kitchen. “I owe you an apology. You were right, she’s good.”

She heard a grunt of acknowledgment as the fridge opened. He came back into the living room, shaking up a bottled protein shake and cracking it open.

“I made a roasted chicken salad,” she said. “I put leftovers in the fridge for you.” “That’s okay,” he said, voice low. “You can take it to work with you tomorrow. Don’t want to take your food.”

Nesta blinked. “I put it in the fridge for you-.”

“I’m tired,” he said, heading toward the stairs. “Night.”

Nesta’s mouth opened, then shut, then opened again. “I’m sorry, what?”

Cassian stopped at the foot of the stairs and looked over his shoulder. “What?”

I made you dinner. I stayed up to make sure you were alright. “Nothing. Just didn’t realize you were so insistent on being an asshole this evening.”

“An asshole?” he repeated. “I just got home, I’m tired, and now I’m an asshole?”

Nesta just shook her head, falling back on the couch. “Nevermind. Goodnight.”

Cassian just stood there, looking half like he wanted to go upstairs and half like he wanted to chuck the half-empty bottle at the back of her head. He’d already had a long, horrible day full of shitty, rude customers. He hadn’t even realized it was nearing Spring Break until the underage kids with shitty, fake ID’s had descended on the bar today. The amount of customers he had to turn away since they were practically children possibly outweighed the actual customers he and Kal had served.

He’d also had Nesta on his mind all day, on the pity she had to feel for him after he lost it the night before. The fact that she made him dinner was just proof of it, that he was right.

“You didn’t need to make me dinner,” he said, staring at the wall behind her head. “I can take care of myself, alright?”

Nesta’s eyes were closed, her arms crossed as she laid back on the couch. “I didn’t say that you couldn’t.”

“Just because I lost it for a minute last night, doesn’t mean that I’m helpless,” Cassian went on. “I’m just as capable of taking care of Nyx, of being a grown ass adult, as you are.”

Nesta’s eyes opened, then, and she slowly looked over to him. “Is that right?”

“Yeah, it is,” he said, simply.

“Really?” Nesta asked. “Because you’re acting like a gods damned child right now.”

Cassian snorted as he shook his head. “I don’t have the patience for you tonight. Goodnight.”

“You’re a real dick, you know that?” Nesta snapped.

“It’s all you think I’m good for, so I guess I may as well act like it, too,” he called out, not turning back to look at her.

The words struck her, made her feel two feet tall, especially considering how she’d begun to regard him instead. But she wasn’t able to stop the bite of her words as she snapped, “Oh, fuck you.”

Cassian didn’t say a word as he topped the stairs and headed down the hall.

She almost wished he’d slammed the door, almost wished he’d made a spectacle of being angry and shutting her out again, after what she’d thought may have been progress the night before.

It was almost that much worse that his door shut with a soft click.

#nessian #nesta #cassian #modern au #fanfic #sjm #collab #shara #shacmc

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thekillingjoke-haha · 4 years ago

Text

Love And Marriage

Spnquotebingo @spnquotebingo

Quote: You don't save a marriage by sleeping with other people.–Lucifer

Mostly Memory: slant/bold. Quote:small/bold

"What the hell, Anthony!" She yelled scaring both brunettes in the bed she shared with him. The women who looked half her age scrambled off the bed in a rush and ran out of the room getting dressed as she ran out the tower. This time she was throwing objects at the genius screaming and swearing every word under the sun. And yes this wasn't the first time, but its sure as hell will be the last. "How could you do this to me!? Time and time again I forgive and you do it again!!" She tried taking control of her emotions, but they over took her and laid everything out on the table.

Tony slipped on his clothes yelling back and forth with his wife. It was a screaming match that all of New York could hear. "Maybe if you weren't such a controlling bitch I wouldn't need to rush into the arms of a women that would get off my back!" He yelled back and she was stunned into silence. Tony continued talking. "Ever since we been together you've been trying to change who I am and I got sick of it, but you were America's golden girl I couldn't dump you. You just couldn't take the hint ,sweetheart." He finished his intoxicated words got the better of him, but drunk words were sober thoughts and maybe this is exactly how he felt after all these years.

"I want a divorce." She said her voice shaking not wanting to cry in front of the man she loved and she thought loved her back. "What?!" He turned on his heels and stared at her the shouting didn't sober him up, but those four words did. "What did you say?" He asked as if he didn't hear her. "I'm through, Tony. I'm tired of this back and forth. You said it yourself your not willing to change your partying playboy ways so I'm through." She said as she went to get her phone to call her brother. "I want a divorce." Those were the final words uttered to him before she stopped talking to him all together taking off the ring made from the metal of his original reactor the diamond glowing the same blue that lulled her to sleep. Y/n twirled the ring in-between her fingers a nervous habit after the years.

Steve got to the tower from his apartment along with Bucky and Sam. His two friends walked into her bedroom to hear Tony shouting and pleading for her to listen to him. Steve went to his sister as his friends pulled the thrashing man out of the room and to a different part of the building so he could cool off. Tony in the end didn't calm down and was getting violent to the point they had to knock him out and by then Y/n was getting packed with the help of Steve

The suitcase was harshly zipped up as she rushed closing it. Tears flowed freely down her face as she packed all her things well all the things she bought herself. She wasn't running, running was for cowards she was escaping before she drowned herself in whatever kind of love she once had with her husband. Y/n breathed in through her nose as her body convulsed with another fit of silent sobs. Trying to calm down she wanted to get think clear. Did she really want to leave? No, but he didn't give her much of a choice. The light tan line on her finger just further proved she wasn't turning back...not this time. Not even for him. Y/n needed time to think without the threat of the end of the world and out from under her now ex's crushing ego.

She was shacking with anger and in grief it happened again and she was done with it all. Tony fucking Stark her husband, lover, best friend cheated on her again for the third time that she knew of. Y/n saw it she was always there at the wrong time almost like he wanted her to see how pleased he was with another. Steve came out of the bathroom with more hygiene products. "How are you feeling? Are you okay?" He asked for what feels like the hundredth time. Steve knew Y/n wasn't okay he could see it and the sight made him want to rip Stark a new one. With a deep inhale she looked up at him with s slight smile as real as she could make it. "I'm okay I just need to get out of here. Fresh air. New scenery if possible." She said as she looked longingly at a picture on the nightstand not noticing that her brother left with her bags while she stared off. The picture was of her fifth date with Tony after being together as boyfriend and girlfriend for two years, a light festival their first openly public date for cameras to capture them together making it official. America's Sweetheart with a Playboy billionaire...that headline alone should have been the first of many red flags.

The memory played vividly in her mind. Her eyes shined like stars as she dragged him behind her. It was still light outside and the small park was crowded. "Come on, Tones!" She said excitedly as she dragged him along. Many people looked at them and whispered, but they didn't care. They spent the night talking about any and everything it felt so natural. Y/n stared into the sky on their picnic blanket having already painted her lantern with a good amount of wet paint still on her hands. "We've been on what feels like a million dates and this seems like the perfect one to ask you. Will you marry me?" Tony said holding a black velvet box with a f/c diamond ring. "I thought you'll never ask!" She pulled him into a kiss paint covering his cheeks as lanterns where released. He kissed back hands resting on her hips. "Let's go home Mrs.Stark-Rogers." Tony said with a smile. "Well come on then Mr.Rogers-Stark." He was once again dragged away. "No no no my name first Steve will not hold that over me!" Y/n giggled as the memory faded into a much older one.

The twelve year old girl was getting her hair brushed by her mother. "Mama what's love like. I know you love daddy so what's it like?" She asked it's been two years since her father died ,but her mother always said she stilled loves him. "Love is a amazing feeling that doesn't happen often and sometimes it can hurt." The blonde women said to her daughter she couldn't tell her wanting love cost more then giving it. "Why will it hurt?" The young h/c girl asked turning around. "You're to young to know right now, but at some point you will." By the time Y/n turned fifteen she learned that loving someone can hurt after she stood next to her brother and best friend looking at the slab of stone that marked their mother's grave.

The first time it happened she was pissed, but not at the right person at the time. The second red flag.. Screams are what filled the house as Y/n threw clothes at the tramp that was in bed with her drunk husband. She was so anger, but that just hid the pain she was feeling three years for him to cheat. After shutting the half clothes harlot out on the front porch of the Malibu home she stormed back to Tony. He stayed in his boxers on the bed looking dazed he was drunk. "Why?" Is all she could ask as tears fell down her cheeks. The billionaire stood up and walked toward her he wiped her tears. "I'll change. I promise." He kissed her head. She believed him she had faith that he couldn't change for them. After all Y/n did the same she gave up being a hero along side her brother because he told her he already worries about getting home to her as Ironman no need to add the stress of not knowing if she'll get home. So she hung up her red, white, and blue catsuit for him.

After a year Y/n sat in her art studio wear she sold her and other rising artist artwork after Tony said she shouldn't paint in the tower,she painted with her brother laughing messing with colors. She was thankful she put down plastic tarp beforehand a giggle rang out when Natasha walked through the door. Without saying anything she drops a magazine on the table of brushes next to Y/n. On the cover was Tony kissing some red head though a window tears welled in her eyes as she wiped her hands he eyes not leaving the cover till it was picked up off the table. Natasha comforted her as Steve took the magazine and paced. " Am I stupid for trusting him? Thinking he would change?" She asked as the waterworks flowed. "No ,if anyone is stupid its him. Ever since he came out as Ironman he thought he was untouchable. God imma kill him!" The red head said while Steve was flexing his hand not wanting to hit any of the stored art pieces. The third red flag for all to see.

The bus rocked back and forth as she looked over at her brother sleeping next to her. They were heading to the airport and he was going to see her off before possibly killing Tony. Speaking of she looked down at her phone and saw dozens of missed calls and hundreds of unread text. She felt that the world was so much bigger after leaving, after getting away from the place that no longer felt like a home. Turning back to the window a memory came to surface as a teenage girl sat on the bus watching old Brooklyn go by. She thought life was so slow she wanted to grow up faster and experience life. Y/n wanted to find love like her parents had. "What are you thinking about doll?" She turned and in Steve's place was Bucky her adoptive big brother. "Nothing important, James." She said with a sigh as the old modeled cares turned back to modern vehicles and yellow taxi's.

Tony woke up and ran around the tower while calling and texting his wife. "Friday track Y/n' s phone. He said as he went to the lab to get in his suit. "She's as NYC airline." The irish voice answered as he stepped into the suit letting it close around him. Before the hatch could open completely he was flying out of the tower to the airport. "Any idea which flight?" He asked wanting to get there before it's to late. "No boss, but the next flight leaving is heading for U.K and boarding in fifteen minutes." Time was running out he needed ever second he could spare. "We'll make it in ten." That night Ironman flew to save whatever he had left.

Y/n held her ticket in her shaking hands her breath uneven. Steve left after the bus dropped her off they said their goodbyes not making the separation hurt any less. Her thoughts came back to Tony all the good times made her smile, but the dark clouds took them over soon after. It felt so right to be in his arms thinking about the future they had with each other within seconds that became a distant memory. What's sad is she wants to go back wondering if she held on to those moments longer they'll last forever. The ring she slipped back on her finger weighed a ton. Y/n didn't have the strength to take it off not for good at least and this made her feel weak. Pain was heavy in her heart from the constant ache, but the little voice kept saying maybe if we tried harder he would have loved us the way we love him, maybe rushing into a relationship wasn't the best idea, maybe he's happier without us ,maybe not telling him about the positive test was the best option ,maybe...maybe.

A hand resting on her stomach she wanted to laugh, but that would have brought on a fresh wave of tears. She started off the day without Tony in bed and sicker then she's been since her pre-serum years. Y/n went to the doctor completely covered form any prying eyes and the test were clear she couldn't believe it she took about ten test in her studio bathroom before heading back to the tower. Howard warned her and Steve that the serum might sterilize them, but at the time both of them were to small and sickly and she knew getting pregnant might kill her anyways so they both agreed to it. Y/n wished she could hug the man today he made her better and let her have a gift she never thought was possible. A baby was growing inside her. Tony never really talked about kids and neither did she since that wasn't a possibility before, but the moment she held five of the clearer test she wanted to rush into his arms and have him be the first to know. That quickly fell apart that evening and now she's here.

The suit landed out side the airport and Tony immediately ran out of it into the building looking through his tented shades he followed the path Friday set for him rushing through security. "Now boarding flight A145 to United Kingdom. Ahora aborda—" The intercom rang out. He was running out of time. There he saw h/c hair one of a couple dozen in line due to the oddly timed flight. "Y/N!!" Many heads turned at the shout while so gasped and whispers started. She looked at him and froze. His eyes looked bloodshot and he wore baggy sweats and a AC/DC shirt. Turning back around she tried to get on the plane quicker, but a hand grabbed her arm. "Please listen to me. I'm so so sorry! I'm a fucking moron okay? I know I just keep screwing up between us and I know you're tired of me saying I'll change, but if it means I keep you in my life I'll do damn near anything." Tony's voice shook as his eyes welled with tears people crowed to see the Starks some seemed to clued in on the subject while others were lost. "You can't fix this Tony. There's nothing to fix between us you said your piece and actions speak louder then words there is no saving this." Y/n whimpered holding her hand in her own.

"I can save us, N/n! Please just give me a chance too. You and me against the world right?" She shook her head no as she looked into his brown eyes with her glassy e/c ones. "Wrong. You just don't get it do you? You don't save a marriage by sleeping with other people. And I gave you more then enough chances to change because God I changed so much for you!! I gave up saving people, gave up painting in the tower, stopped helping Pepper with business, stopped going to briefings, and so much more. All for you and you couldn't do one thing for me." With quivering hands she gently brushed the tears from his cheeks letting her hands go from his shoulders to his hands. "I loved you, Anthony. I always will have a special place in my heart for you, but clearly the same doesn't go for you." Y/n now held one of his hands bringing his knuckles to her lips giving them a chaste kiss.

She let go of his hand as she stepped back from him many of the passengers having already boarded the plane. "Don't say goodbye." He said voice small and weak. "...don't think of this as a goodbye. We just met at the wrong time in the wrong place. Maybe I'll come back to you and just maybe we can start again from the beginning, but until then this is a see you later." She turned and went on board as he stood their feet glued the the floor. Looking down at the hand she held the ring sat in his palm she left him with a piece of his heart while she took the rest with her. What is a marriage without love

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A/n this is the second to last one before the full masterlist is posted. Fyi I wrote a happy ending and if it's really wanted I'll make a short one-shot of it but angst ending for now.

Next quote is a free space and I'm going ham!!!!

#spnquotebingo #tony stark #tony stark x reader #cheating #quote bingo #pregnant!reader #divorce #angst #no happy ending #steve rogers #Rogers!reader #bucky barnes #natasha romanoff #heart break

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wouldpollyapprove · 4 years ago

Text

All War Can Touch

Request: hiya, please can i request an angsty tommy with the prompts 9, 11 and 18 x

hiya, please can i request a one shot in which the reader is tommy's wife before the war and like they have a couple of kids but in season 1 he meets grace and shit goes down for real? xx

Requested by @i-volunteer-for-finnick & Anonymous

Thomas Shelby x Reader

Word Count: 1.7k

Warnings: neglect, language, pregnancy, alcohol

A/N: I must warn you guys, I didn’t do much editing for this. I was lazy and didn’t want to. @nemesis729 went over it for me and I’m grateful for that. If it’s trash, that’s my fault cause I know I should have edited. But that’s effort. Anyway, I will have the second part out shortly because I can’t seem to write oneshots anymore, they always have to have a second part cause I’m too lazy to write one long fic.

Masterlist

Part Two / Part Three

“I’ll get us some drinks,” Tommy stated, kissing his wife on the cheek before he slid out of the booth in the private room, an action that had become rare since he’d returned from war. A foot out the door and his wife’s voice, no more than a whisper, hit his ears. With a sigh, he turned back to face her, rolling his eyes. “What was that?”

Looking up from her nails, Y/n shrugged, “Nothing, dear.”

Crossing his arms over his chest, he leaned against the doorway, not intending to leave until she spoke her peace. “Why are you lying?”

“It doesn’t matter, Tommy. Go get our drinks,” she waved him away, hoping he would drop the subject. But as he was a Shelby, he couldn’t do that.

“No, tell me what you said.” His face held no expression, features flat and tight, but his eyes… they held a storm. There was a storm of anger and hate brewing in them, the rain that would pour from the clouds was full of hurt, but Y/n couldn’t understand why. She was the one that deserved to have that storm brewing inside her. She was the one that had been walked all over.

Mirroring his stance, arms crossed over her chest, she huffed. “Fine, you want to know what I said?” Her husband nodded, irritated that she was taking her time. “I said, ‘Your girlfriend can get them for us.’” Her words were bitter as they rolled off her tongue.

Tommy was unfazed, simply rolling his eyes in response. Y/n wasn’t sure what reaction she wanted, but that wasn’t it. “Don’t do this here,” he groaned.

“Why not? It’s either here or in front of our children, which would you like? Your bitch to know she may have you after all or your children to know they live in a broken home? Which do you want, Tommy?”

The man rolled his eyes, hand falling to his side, and he stepped out into the bar. Composing herself, Y/n stood and flattened the wrinkles out of her dress. She wasn’t going to have a drink with him, the man that once loved her, when he spent most of his time eyeing the barmaid. Instead, she grabbed her coat, resting her hat snugly against her head and stepped out of the room.

“I hope you know, not answering my question, answers it,” she called to him as she walked to the door, not willing to look back to see he didn’t even glance her way.

Y/n wanted to go back in time. To a time before the war, when they were just to young lovers who smiled at the world. She wanted to go back to her husband that would bring her flowers and dreamt of building his family a cottage. Desperately, she wanted to grasp her hands on the fabric of that man’s tie, the man that spent his nights at home, rocking his children to sleep and dancing with the love of his life, and keep him tucked away from the war.

The war… that’s what had done this.

The fucking war came knocking on their door and Tommy, an hounerable man, couldn’t pass up the fight. Leaving his children and wife behind, he became a new man, one that was unrecognizable at heart. Though he looked older, his heart was black and his mind was broken. That’s what war did, it broke the strong, Y/n knew. But she never thought it would tear her family apart in the most unexpected way.

Sitting across from Polly in the parlor, Y/n could hear her children playing in the next room. Ben was giving his sister orders as they played with their toy horses, the ruckus echoing throughout the house. A smile tugged at her lips, but she was in no mood to give into it.

“Did you tell him?” Polly asked, pouring tea into the cups that sat at the coffee table. Y/n shook her head, taking one of the cups in her hand. “You’re going to have to tell him soon, dear. Tommy’s a smart man, he’ll put it together.”

Shaking her head, she leaned against the back of the chair, resting her head against the soft fabric. The woman across from her followed her movement, waiting for her to look her in the eye but Y/n couldn’t. She couldn’t look Polly in the eye, the woman who was like a mother to her, and let her see how broken she was. “I’m not going to tell him,” she finally muttered, saying the words aloud for the first time.

Bewildered, Polly set down her cup and replaced it with one of Y/n’s hands. “What are you going to do, then?” Voice laced with worry, she never knew what the young woman had to put up with, none of the Shelbys did.

“I’m leaving Tommy.” There was silence as she slipped her hands out of Polly’s grasp and sipped on her tea.

“The war may have changed him but it didn’t destroy him, Y/n,” she scolded her like a mother does a child, causing Y/n to roll her eyes. “Where are you going, then? Your parents hate you for marrying a gpspy and those closest to you are close to your husband as well. And what about the children? What about your baby?”

A sigh escaped her lips as she placed her cup on the table. “Polly—” Y/n folded her hands in her lap. “—it doesn’t matter where I go. Anywhere is better than where he is. He no longer loves me, it’s clear when he slaps me in the face by flirting with the fucking barmaid,” she seethed, remembering the day she first caught her husband too close to the blonde barmaid for her comfort.

“He won’t touch me unless it’s to tell others I’m his. At home, he would rather be with the children than me and when in bed, he won’t even look at me.” Tears were swelling in her eyes, a hand going to caress her slightly swollen belly. “This baby is a miracle considering I’m like filth to him.”

“Have you talked to him about it?”

Had she talked to him about it? Y/n wanted to laugh at the question, of course she had. Tommy knew exactly how she felt. First, she was subtle about it, small hints that any man would understand. But Tommy ignored them just like he did her. And then, she became more verbal about it. Why hide what he already knew? Y/n was furious, hurt, by his actions. She was once the love of his life and if he no longer wanted her then she wanted to know. Being tortured by seeing what he refused to give her wasn’t something she wanted to live with.

She sighed, nodding in response.

“And he doesn’t care,” Polly shook her head, disappointment shining like a beacon in her eyes. Out of all the Shelby men, she thought her nephew would be the opposite of his father. Before the war, he was a loving man. A family man. After, she thought that man was still in there somewhere, but she should have known better. All the nights Y/n brought the kids over, Tommy nowhere in sight, and the days he stayed in the office until the sun rose the next morning should have sounded an alarm. But with the boys home from war, like everyone else, Polly wanted to believe things would settle back into some sort of normal. She was wrong. “If you have a place to stay, I’ll help you pack.”

“My brother and his wife have offered to let me stay with them for as long as needed,” Y/n informed her. “I’d like to leave now, if you don’t mind, since Grace is entertaining my husband.”

Polly nodded, getting to her feet, gesturing for Y/n to follow her as they packed bags for the kids.

Y/n never wanted to leave her husband. She believed that Tommy would come to his senses and at least be kinder to her.

During the war, she missed his touch. The fingers that lingered after a soft kiss. The arms that would encase her as she slept. The warmth that radiated off him when their skin touched. But the war was over and she found herself longing for the exact things she once believed would return to her. Longing for the man she still loved. That’s what hurt the most. Her love for him had never wavered and if they didn’t have children, perhaps, she would wait for years for him to love her once more.

But that simply couldn’t be done when she looked down at the two small beings playing on the floor. Y/n didn’t want them to grow up and believe that it was acceptable to settle for what was given to them. She wanted them to know their worth and know that they deserved love. That couldn’t be done if they grew up seeing their mother throw herself away for a man who wouldn’t do the same.

With their bags all packed, she didn’t regret a thing as her brother pulled up in his car. Ben and Julie were beyond impressed with the object that shone in the evening sun, asking their uncle for a ride before he could even get out of the car. “Are you sure you want to do this?” he asked, approaching his sister with his niece on his hip.

“I am. Tommy made his bed. Now he has to sleep in it.” She smiled sadly and picked up a bag. Once all the bags were in the car, the children along with them, Y/n turned to Polly. The woman was on the verge of tears, Y/n didn’t blame her. This was not the evening either of them were expecting.

“Thank you,” she whispered, embracing her.

Slowly pulling away, Polly glanced between her and the children, who were snuggled up in blankets. “You take care of them, you hear? And write to me everyday, tell me how things go.” Y/n nodded, squeezing her hand.

“You deserve better than this and, by god, you will get what you deserve, I know it.” With that, Polly pushed Y/n towards the car. Who knew when Tommy would be home and she didn’t want him to pitch a fit over something he’d done.

“Be safe, Pol.”

“I will,” she smiled and the car roared to life, slowly making its way down Watery Lane and out of sight.

*~~*~~*

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handwrittenhello · 3 years ago

Text

where the road then takes me

Prompt: Law of Surprise Relationships: Geralt/Jaskier/Renfri, Geralt/Renfri, Geralt/Jaskier, Jaskier & Renfri Rating: T Warnings: None Summary: When Jaskier runs into a pack of wild dogs while searching for his lost hen, he's lucky that Geralt is nearby to save him. But he has nothing to repay the witcher with except the Law of Surprise, and who do they find upon returning to the farm, but Jaskier's sister, Renfri, back early from marauding?

For @witcher-rarepair-summer-bingo!

(ao3 link in reblog)

Jaskier, eighteen, had grand dreams.

They were little more than dreams, unfortunately, because seeing as how he and Renfri had grown up fending for themselves, stuck in a tiny village on the border of Creyden, he didn’t have much opportunity to go to school or learn to play the lute or anything, really, besides tending to the farm while Renfri got… freelance work elsewhere. That was all he cared to know about it—she would leave, and return home every couple of weeks with a decent bag of coin and blood-spattered clothes, which Jaskier would bitch about cleaning. She made enough for them to live, though not comfortably—Renfri had kept him fairly sheltered, but he knew that they were one of the poorer households in town.

Which was why Jaskier only dreamed of traveling the Continent, singing songs and weaving grand tales for the commonfolk. Instead, he was stuck here chasing down their old hen again, after the coop had blown down in the storm for the fourth time. Henrietta was a sneaky fucker, already gone by the time he woke up in the morning. He cursed but pulled on his boots and stumbled out into the cold morning air to look for her.

He cursed all the way to the edge of the forest, where she’d apparently disappeared into, judging by the tracks and the few scattered feathers he found. “Damned hen. Ought to just eat you and be done with it,” he muttered, pulling his cloak tighter around him before heading into the forest.

He followed her trail as the sun slowly rose, stopping when he heard barking in the distance. Fuck, he hoped that was the hunters’ dogs—he hadn’t thought to bring a knife to defend himself with. Whatever it was, he trudged onwards, because they couldn’t afford to lose a hen. Renfri would kill him if—when—she found out.

And then he heard it—familiar squawking, accompanied by those same barks, louder. He crept closer and saw exactly what he’d feared—a pack of wild dogs circled Henrietta, one of them darting in every so often to snap at her slashing claws. She was fending them off pretty handily, actually—Jaskier knew how vicious she could be firsthand.

But the dogs would no doubt attack in force soon, and then she’d have no chance. Without thinking, Jaskier picked up a rock and threw it at the nearest one, hitting it square in the nose. It recoiled and turned its attention away from Henrietta, which was exactly what he wanted.

Unfortunately, it turned its attention towards him, which was exactly what he didn’t want. “Oh, fuck,” he spat, and turned tail as the pack gave chase.

He dashed over tree roots and fallen logs, blind stupid terror coursing through his veins. He had no plan beyond don’t get caught—and he could only run for so long before tiring. He threw a glance backward and saw that they were gaining on him—and fast.

Not looking where was going, he was taken completely by surprise when he slammed into something hard, bouncing off it and landing with an oof on the mossy ground.

Dazed and still half-blind with fear, he didn’t even notice that he’d slammed into a person until they moved, stepping over him and taking on the dogs with an easy confidence, sword swinging with preternatural force.

Two swords, armor, incredible speed and fighting skills? As the man finished dispatching the last of the pack and turned around to reveal mutated cat eyes set in a heavily scarred face, Jaskier realized who the man was. He sucked in a sharp breath.

The witcher sheathed his sword, holding out a hand as if to calm Jaskier. “It’s alright,” he rumbled, voice full of gravel. “I’m not here to hurt you.”

Jaskier picked his jaw up from where it had dropped. “I know that,” he answered, getting to his feet and half-heartedly brushing the dirt off himself. “You’re a witcher.”

“I am. Usually fight more dangerous things than wild dogs, though. Also don’t usually see unaccompanied kids running around being chased by them.”

“I had to get their attention somehow. Henrietta was—wait, Henrietta!” Jaskier, remembered, abruptly spinning on his heel and dashing back to where the pack had cornered her.

“Wait!” the witcher called from behind him, but Jaskier paid him no heed.

He was gratified to see that while he’d been running for his life, Henrietta had seen fit to begin making herself a nest right in the same spot. “Oh, aren’t we cozy?” he grumbled, creeping closer in an attempt to grab her. He was almost upon her when the witcher ruined it, crashing through the underbrush behind him and sending her clucking away just as Jaskier pounced.

Jaskier sighed and turned to face the witcher, who at least had the good grace to look a little guilty. The guilt soon disappeared, though, when Jaskier rounded on him and began to lecture. “Now look what you’ve done. It’ll take me ages to catch her,” he complained, watching as the witcher’s eyes grew incredulous.

“You risked your life for that scrawny thing?” the witcher asked, amused disbelief coloring his tone.

“That scrawny thing is probably the most valuable thing we own, so yes,” Jaskier snapped. He couldn’t stand it when out-of-towners looked at him like that, like he was a stupid farm boy who knew little more than dirt and chickens. Which, to be fair, he didn’t, but it wasn’t as if he wanted it that way.

The witcher’s face cleared to something more akin to understanding—thank the gods it wasn’t pity. “Then I suppose I owe it to you to help catch her,” he said, and in the blink of an eye he’d snatched Henrietta up. Jaskier accepted her into his arms somewhat stunned.

“Thank you,” he eventually managed to stammer. The witcher said nothing in return, and they stood there for a long, awkward moment, before Jaskier realized he was probably waiting for something. “Oh! I don’t—I don’t have anything to pay you with…” he trailed off, recalling all the old adages, that witchers never worked for free. Fuck. Renfri wouldn’t be home for days if not weeks still, and the only coin he had he needed to save for the market day after tomorrow.

The witcher began to speak—what it was he was going to say, Jaskier didn’t know, but he interrupted as an idea struck him. “But I can offer you the Law of Surprise!” he suggested, recalling the ballads of children promised to witchmen. “We’ve a bitch due for pups soon—perhaps we’ll return home and you’ll find yourself with a companion to warm the long nights on the road!”

“Hmm,” the witcher replied, but it wasn’t a no, so he figured that it probably meant he wasn’t about to be forced into the witcher’s debt. Humming, he led the way back to the farmstead, the witcher a silent, hulking protector at his back.

Once they arrived, Jaskier was quick to secure Henrietta in the barn, where normally there would be pigs, but now, after sickness had taken their only sow, there was only dust and hay and the occasional mouse. He left Henrietta to her mouse hunting and led the witcher to the cottage, throwing open the door, excited to see what surprise he might find.

“Jaskier, why the fuck have you brought a witcher home?” asked Renfri, perched on the table and cleaning underneath her fingernails with one of her many knives.

Jaskier paled. “Renfri! You’re—you’re not meant to be home yet,” he choked out.

“What, you’re not happy to see me?” she drawled, eyebrows knitting together. Jaskier, helpless, threw a glance back at the witcher, who was wearing a thunderous expression. Shit.

“I—not in this case, no,” Jaskier said tersely. “Fuck.”

“Some welcome,” she said faux-calmly, hopping down off the table. Jaskier recognized the tenseness in her form that spoke of a predator preparing to pounce. Sure enough, she lunged a moment later, her knife held a half-inch away from the witcher’s throat. Jaskier yelped. “Did he hurt you, Julek?” she asked, not taking her eyes off the witcher’s face.

“No, nothing of the sort, now put that down,” Jaskier hissed, tugging ineffectually at her arm. “He saved me, in fact, and…”

“And?” Renfri asked lowly.

“…and I may have promised him the Law of Surprise in return,” Jaskier finished all in a rush, wincing. “I swear, Ren, if I’d known…”

“That’s the thing about surprises,” the witcher interjected. “But you needn’t worry. I have no plans to claim your—sister?” Jaskier nodded. “As I said before, I need no payment.”

Renfri lowered her knife, and Jaskier breathed a bit easier for it. Renfri was a formidable fighter, but Jaskier doubted even her strength against a witcher. If a fight had broken out, he’d have had to—well, not help, because he was rather useless in a fight, but it was the principle of the matter.

“I suppose I could do worse for myself,” Renfri mused, looking Geralt over critically.

“Wait you’re—Renfri, he said he wouldn’t claim you, you don’t have to.”

“And what if I want to?” Renfri answered. “He seems a decent sort. And not too hard on the eyes, either.”

The witcher, looking uncomfortable, stood there and said nothing.

Jaskier threw his hands up. “You’re insane. And you!” he said, turning to the witcher. “Are you agreeing to this?”

“The life of a witcher isn’t well suited to… companionship,” the witcher replied, face twisted. “Walking the Path is difficult.”

“And if I promise that I can handle myself?” Renfri asked, twirling her knife in one of the many tricks she was proud of. “I’m no stranger to the road. It’s Jaskier you’d have to watch out for.”

“I resent that,” Jaskier said mildly, mostly out of principle. But the prospect was too exciting to dwell on it for long—was Renfri truly proposing that they set out with a witcher? “Ren, do you mean it?”

“If your witcher is fine with it, then I don’t see why not,” she replied. “What do you say, witcher?”

“Geralt,” the witcher corrected her. “If we’re to travel together, you ought to at least know my name.”

“Geralt,” Jaskier repeated. It rolled off the tongue wonderfully. “Oh, this is so exciting! I’m going to write so many songs, just wait,” he gushed. “The Witcher and the Shrike—I can hear it now.”

Renfri pulled him out of his thoughts with a cuff to the shoulder. “Ow,” he said mildly. “Wait—you are planning on sharing, right?” he interjected. “Because, I mean, look at him.”

“Am I a toy to be shared among siblings?” Geralt asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Is that a no, you don’t want to sleep with both of us? Because I’ll respect that, I will, but also, not to objectify you or whatever, but dear gods please, I think my poor heart might break if I didn’t get to fuck you at least once.”

“Jaskier! Leave my Husband Surprise alone,” Renfri said, shoving him away. “Go get packed. Essentials only!”

“Alright, alright, I’m going,” Jaskier placated, raising his hands in surrender. “Don’t get up to anything while I’m gone, you lovebirds.”

As he left, Geralt turned to Renfri. “Is he always like this?”

“Yeah, he’s chronically stupid. Gets it from our father.”

“Remind me again why I agreed to this?”

“Don’t know, but it’s too late now. You’re stuck with us, witcher,” Renfri replied, looping an arm around Geralt’s.

Geralt made a show of sighing, but in truth, he wasn’t annoyed as all that. At least it would make life more interesting.

#the witcher #witcher fanfiction #geraskier #geralt/renfri #geralt/jaskier/renfri #geralt/jaskier #witcher rarepair summer bingo #wrsb #geralt #renfri #jaskier

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athena-is-a-chaotic-lil-shit · 4 years ago

Text

Feral Fatality

(Part 3)

Last update for now! I hit a wall and so...I need to shift direction, make way for my requests (up til now I merely wrote one word) so gonna forget this one for the time being and push this deep under every article I have in the works—

Anyways, some fluff before I disappear *insert peace out and fade meme*

Pairing: Jason Voorhees x Fem!Reader

Word count: 1.6k

Warnings: Nothing extreme, a little blood only.

—

The masked killer gave you one shook of his head before he took off.

Saving you... for last?

Why weren't you afraid? Hell, you are going insane.

You looked down at the corpse under you. Time to clean up the mess, no one would want a rotting bitch on their doorstep.

Standing up, you decided to drag the body into the woods, maybe an animal would be happy to eat her flesh.

Huh, you were taking everything so well.

After you left her body a good distance away from your cabin, you went back to wash up, the red liquid on your skin was beginning to itch. You took off your clothing, the blood on your them was hopefully still removable, you wouldn't want to throw them away if you can help it.

Your thoughts strayed to that of earlier. You killed someone. You killed Betty.

And it felt good. Euphoric, even.

You never thought you could end someone's life, one of many that wanted you dead too.

"It was self-defense..." you assured. They intended to kill you anyway, the food they served for you was possibly poisoned. Even a fool would notice how suspicious they acted.

Not to mention Eloiza declared it straight to my face.

Then again, she would still die with the murderer out for her blood, it's just that I ended her myself.

Everyone's probably dead by now.

You stared at your hands– your palms, swollen from gripping your murder weapon.

"...Jason Voorhees. I wonder if he'll kill me too..."

You trailed off as your head drooped, your previous high fading out as your limbs felt heavy. Wobbling your way to your bed, gravity did its thing and you fell on the soft sheets and blacked out, the distant ringing of screams but a mere lullaby to you.

—

The ever-rising sun warmed your slumbering form as its rays peeked through the gaps of the window, stirring you into consciousness.

You groaned, rolling away from the prickles of their heat, wanting to get more sleep from last night's events...

Last night?

You shot up, rubbing your grogginess away as the thoughts of the past evening came rushing in. You couldn't believe it. Or did you? Did you really do it?

Was it all a dream??

You brought your hand to your right cheek, the action so sudden that you smacked yourself, instantly regretting it when you felt like you've just planted your face on nails.

"God fucking—" You clenched your teeth and squeezed your eyes shut, muffling your scream. Little tears threatened to pour out so you looked up to keep them in. When the pain numbed down, you exhaled and panted hoarsely.

Well, damn me if it was a dream, that fucking hurt!

A gurgling noise.

Right, I didn't eat anything for dinner.

You sighed, time to take care of your business before anything else! You could eat a whole stallion with the way your stomach grumbled. You stood up and plodded to the cupboards where you kept your food. Unfortunately, you didn't have a horse at hand, and you doubt you could even kill such a beautiful animal, so some easy-to-open corned beef would have to do. Maybe two-three cans would sate your hunger.

Knock, knock.

"Yeah, yeah, wait a bit, I'm opening dinner... breakfast. Dinkfast or breakner? Mm." You responded nonchalantly, still lethargic from both the pain and exhaustion. You pulled on the ring of the can. And it resisted like a lil shit. Three more tries and it didn't budge. You slammed it down the table, huffing.

Easy-open my ass!

Knock, knock.

Yeah, right, the door. You moved to grab the knob and whipped it open. Your face met with a broad chest, a bluish, dark gray shirt stained with what looked like dried blood and dirt. Slowly trailing up, you froze as you met two blue orbs staring down at you from behind a hockey mask. Your jaw dropped.

The silence dragged on for who knows how long before you broke away and fumbled. Absolutely lost, you did what a totally sane person would do.

You stepped aside and invited him in.

"I, uh, come in then, Mr...Voorhees." You uttered, your eyes unblinking as you looked anywhere than at the killer who took careful steps into the cabin.

——

Jason trudged to the cabin you resided few hours after he finished cleaning up the mess. Ten meters away and muffled words followed by a silent scream reached his ears. Five large strides and he was at your doorstep, coming to a halt and contemplating on barging in and scaring you even more, or knocking.

Knocking seems to be the calmer option, although he was concerned if you were hurt again. He doesn't know why he's feeling such...emotions towards you, technically a trespasser but different...

A minute passed before he knocked, twice. You answered something about eating and made-up words. He knocked again after he heard you slam something down and huff. Before he knew it you opened your door and stared. You were a lot shorter up close, craning your neck up to meet him.

You looked at each other for a while, before you moved out of the way to let him in. Even going as far as calling him Mr. Voorhees, which baffled him. So you knew who he was. If so, why didn't you leave or scream at him? That and a bunch of questions ran around his head.

He needs answers.

——

You stood to his left, facing his side as you felt awkward. You were in a room with a mass murderer, a legend. What's more, you were the one who let him in. You pinched the sleeve of your navy blue jacket from behind as you rocked on your feet. Was he here to end your life? No, no wait, if he wanted that he could have done it when you were asleep. You're pretty sure he could break down the door and crush you with it and you would never wake up again. Same as just now but he...he knocked? What will you even do if he decides to carry out the task now? You were, by no means, fit to fight back. You can't even open a fucking easy-open can! He could snap you like a twig any second now.

You waited, resigning to your fate and wishing you were reincarnated as a rock in your next life.

"..."

Well, nothing happened. He just stood there, unmoving as he faced the opposite wall.

A grumble and he whipped his head to you, making you flinch. Curse your stomach for being such a whiny shit. But you couldn't resist your hunger anymore, you need to eat. Moving a step at a time around him, you took hold of the can and pulled, swearing when it didn't budge. You were gonna die at this rate, if not by the killer behind you then by fucking starvation.

You felt a finger poke your shoulder, not even a flinch as you were too frustrated to care at the moment. You turned around to face the man, he was looking at the can you were holding.

"Oh, uh, I haven't eaten anything? The damn can just won't let me have what's inside." Since when did you talk this much?

He gestured, his gloved palm exposed, as if waiting for you to give him the can.

You placed it in his hand. With one tug, ONE TUG, of his finger it opened. It looked like he just touched it and the lid gave away. You huffed in disbelief as he handed it over to you with two fingers. You grabbed a spoon from the drawer and started wolfing down the contents. If you were gonna die might as well be full.

When it was empty, you glanced at the other can on the table, untouched. You looked back and forth a couple of times between the man and at it. You guessed he understood since he silently picked up the can and opened it for you. The corned beef ended in your stomach seconds later.

You set the last can down, only to pick them all up and dumped them inside a garbage bag you set up yesterday. Grabbing your tumbler from beside the sink, you took large sips from it.

Wiping your mouth with the sleeve of your hoodie, you walked past him and went to sit on the bed. He followed you. You stared at the one who murdered everybody else, standing in the middle of the cabin.

"..."

"So...Am I supposed to die now?" you asked. You sneaked a glance at the machete in his holster.

He didn't give you any response, but he stepped closer until he was in front of you. You didn't look up.

The man raised his hand, and you shut your eyes, expecting the worst— only hoping it was painless and quick.

You almost jerked when you felt his hand on your head.

But what surprised you was how gentle it was, no pressure at all, not even close to a killing move. Then you realized...

He's...he's patting my head.

His hand...wasn't cold nor warm, but the way he did it was akin to petting a little animal; stroking the top of your head so softly you sniffled. This made him stop and step away from you, his hands waving— hovering around you it was practically comical.

"N-No, I'm alright," you answered his silent question. "It's just...I've never been patted like that before and I...It was nice."

You've been subjected to abuse and degradation most of your life that a gesture, one that meant no harm or malice, made you cry. You wiped away the wetness of your eyes before you looked at him.

"Thank you, Mr. Voorhees. I actually wouldn't mind if you kill me, but I guess you won't...?"

He gave you a soft grunt in reply, and you giggled.

The man patted your head once more, before he made his way out of the cabin, closing the door quietly behind him.

You let out a quiet breath. Jason Voorhees simply appeared on your doorstep, helped you with your food, patted your head, and walked out without a word.

It's crazy and it wasn't a dream— if the throbbing on your cheek was any indication.

You're happy though. More than happy to be alive.

#jason voorhees #jason voorhees x reader #jason x reader #jason voorhees x fem!reader #feral fatality #athenawrites #my writing #slasher fic #slasher x reader #slasher x fem!reader #friday the 13th #horror fic #fluff #slasher writing #slasher fanfiction #jason voorhees fanfiction

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novannna · 4 years ago

Note

"Let go of my hand." With nobell? 👀👀

ahhhh rae tysm for the ask i had a lot of fun writing this!!!!

nova and danna are just doing a standard mission, when stuff goes wrong.

tw: death, bombs, heights

wc: 2035

“So,” Danna said smoothly, coming up behind Nova. “Got any plans tonight?”

Nova rolled her eyes. “Yeah. I’ve got a date.”

“Do you? Is the lucky person any interesting?” Danna smirked, and leaned against the railing surrounding the rooftop.

Nova shrugged. “Eh. I like to think that I’m the one who really completes the relationship.”

“Hey!” Danna frowned. “Rude.”

Nova rolled her eyes again. “You were asking for it. And you know I’m joking. You are the interesting one, I just like to stand next to you and look pretty.”

“And you excel at that,” Danna replied, leaning in to kiss Nova’s cheek. “But I’d say you’re pretty interesting yourself, with your uncle being Ace Anarchy, and being the former supervillain Nightmare.”

“You think so?” Nova asked, her tone part sarcastic.

Danna grinned, and pushed herself off the railing, and threw an arm over Nova’s shoulder. “I know so. Believe me, all my other partners have never saved the world from a sadistic asshole pretending to be a god.”

“Yeah, I am pretty great aren’t I?”

Danna grinned, and leaned in to kiss Nova’s chapped lips. “The greatest,” she murmured.

Nova glanced over at the criminal behind them. Just a simple robber, nothing special. There was only a need for two Renegades to deal with him. It had only taken a few minutes for them to find, and subdue the criminal. Now, he was sitting, bound in handcuffs, and propped against the railing of the roof, a strange smile on his face.

“How long till clean up gets here?” Nova asked, her face twisting. “Something feels off about that guy, and I can’t wait for him to be out of our hands.”

Danna followed her gaze, and wrinkled her nose. “At least an hour. We’re out at the ass end of Gatlon, and there was a problem that required immediate attention. You’re right though, he’s scaring the fuck out of me.”

“And he’s not even a bird!” Nova widened her eyes in mock amazement.

Danna scowled, and lightly punched Nova’s arms. “Shut up.”

Nova smirked and raised an eyebrow. “Make me.”

“Is that a challenge?” Danna asked, already pushing Nova’s choppy hair out of her face, and cupping her head in her hands.

Nova laughed softly. “What do you think?” She lifted her brown eyes to Danna’s and inhaled her warm scent. Danna smelled like flowers, and sun, and all the best things in Nova’s life.

“Are you smelling me?” Danna asked, amused.

Nova’s face flushed bright red. “Maybe,” she half mumbled. “You smell good.”

Danna laughed, her voice sending warmth through Nova’s body. “You smell good too, Star.”

Nova froze, her smile curving into a frown. “Do you hear that?” A faint beeping noise, barely hearable, but still there.

Danna cocked her head. “Hear what?”

Nova drew away from Danna and walked towards the noise. It was coming from the robber, his lips still in a twisted grin.

There wasn’t any happiness, or playfulness left on her face. “Star, what do you hear?”

Nova didn’t respond. Instead, she knelt next to the robber, and carefully peeled back his jacket.

A ring of explosives around his waist, and a timer blinking down. There were only seven seconds left, each red pixel sending a bolt of fear into Nova.

The robber laughed, low and sinister. “You lose, bitch.”

“Nova get back!” Danna screamed, stumbling away, her feet clumsy with fear. “Get away from him!”

Nova couldn’t get far enough. The timer blinked out, the red 00:00 mocking Nova. The explosives erupted in fiery red heat, the blast throwing Nova around. She landed hard against the railing, the metal sending sharp pain into her back. A large piece of debris smashed against her shoulder, sending pain lancing through her arm.

“Nova!” Danna screamed, her voice sounding far away.

Then the railing was tearing away, and Nova was falling. Her body was falling through the air, ready to shatter against the hard concrete far below.

Her body came to a wrenching halt. Danna was leaning over the edge, eyes full of terror and tears. Her hand was wrapped around Nova’s, the only thing keeping her from falling to the merciless ground.

Nova could feel the wind blowing against her clothes, a reminder of how high she was.

“Hold on Nova,” Danna gasped, her face screwed with pain.

Nova nodded, too terrified to speak.

“Can you pull yourself up?” Danna asked.

“I… I don’t think so,” Nova said. “I think my other arm is broken, and there’s nothing for me to hold onto. I’m stuck.” She could feel both their hands start to get sweaty, both from the exertion and fear.

Danna nodded, her movements frantic and forced. “You’re going to be okay,” she said. “We just need to wait for the others to get here.”

Nova shook her head. “That’s over an hour Danna. I can’t hold on that long.”

Danna’s hold on Nova’s hand tightened. “Well you have to. I’m not letting you die tonight.” There were tears spilling out of Danna’s eyes, cutting tracks through the dust left from the explosion. Dimly, Nova was aware of how filthy she was too. Her entire body was gray,and her hair was full of dust.

“What are we doing tonight?” Nova asked, trying to think of anything but the air below her. Trying to think of anything but the fact that she could be moments away from death.

Danna half laughed, half sobbed. “You’re hanging off the edge of a 200 foot building, and you want to ask about your date?”

Nova tried to shrug with her broken shoulder, but instead gasped at the rush of pain. “I’m trying to think of something pleasant to look forward to.”

“Well I can’t tell you,” Danna said, her voice breaking. “It’s a surprise. If you want to find out, you just have to hang on for a little bit longer.”

Nova laughed, but it was sobered by the impossible reality.

“Danna…” She said softly.

Danna shook her head. “No. You have to hold on for long enough, you understand? I’m not letting go, so you can’t either.”

“They won’t be here for at least an hour. One arm is broken, the others in pain, we’re both tired. It’s impossible.”

“No, you can do it. I can do this. Nova, you aren’t fucking falling, understand?” Danna’s voice was strong, but her eyes betrayed her doubt.

“Crystal,” Nova replied, trying to blink away tears. “But if-”

“No ‘if’s’.”

Nova tried to smile, and nodded. “Alright. I’m surviving, then we’re going to go on our date, and you’ll surprise me with some wonderful evening.”

“Exactly. You see, pretty simple.”

Simple enough in words. But still Nova’s arm ached, and her fingers grew sweatier, and all she wanted to do was let go.

But if Danna wasn’t giving up, then neither was Nova.

“Can you reach your wristband and call for help,” Nova asked.

“It was broken by a rock in the explosion.”

“Fuck,” Nova muttered. “Is there anything we can do?”

Danna shook her head.

Nova cursed again. “My hand really hurts,” she murmured.

“Mine too.”

“I don’t know if I can’t hold on for an hour Danna.” Nova met Danna’s eyes. “I want to hold on for as long as possible, but can we please be realistic?”

“No,” Danna said, her voice breaking into a million pieces. “I know how impossible this is, but I can’t fucking let you go Nova. I can’t watch you fall. I can’t.” Her body shook with barely contained sobs. “I fucking love you. I’m holding on until the Renegades get here, and even then I’m not letting go. There’s only one ending to this, and it's me and you walking out of this together.”

Nova was sobbing too, the force of her grief making her body move on the wall. “Danna, please. You have to be realistic.”

“I can’t think of it Nova. Because if you fall, then it will be my fault. I let you die. I would be the one who let your hand slip away. I can’t live with that.”

Nova nodded, heart thudding in her ears. “Then I just have to hold on a little longer.”

“Why did this happen? Why did he have to have a bomb, why did it have to be us?” Danna asked.

“I don’t know.” Nova could feel her skin starting to rip open from Danna nails grasping her wrist so tight. “There’s nothing that we could have done.”

Maybe it was true, maybe it wasn’t. But, at that point, it didn’t matter. All that mattered was the arm holding Nova tight, keeping her safe from the world.

Nova was finally starting to think that they may be able to wait long enough for her to be saved.

Of course, that was when it came tumbling down. The piece of roof Danna lay on, weakened by the explosion finally had enough. It started to rip out of the wall, carrying Danna with it.

With a scream, the girl managed to wrap an arm around the metal railing, just as the stone fell down, shattering against the concrete so far below.

“Danna, are you okay?” Nova asked, horror coating her throat. Her breath was coming out in short gasps.

Danna nodded. “Good enough. I’m not too hurt. But the railing is starting to rip out. I don’t know if it will hold.” She was crying. Her body was shuddering, maybe for the first time considering what could happen.

Nova wasn’t though. She knew what had to happen. SHe knew what she needed to do. Fuck, she didn’t want to though.

All Nova wanted was to go home hand in hand with Danna, back home to their small apartment and friends. She wanted to have their date, then have a few more. But they weren’t going to be able to hold on forever, and Nova wasn’t going to bring Danna with her.

“Let go of my hand Danna,” she said quietly, her voice barely a whisper.

But still Danna heard her.

“What? Are you crazy? No way!”

“I can’t hold on much longer, and that railing isn’t going to hold the both of us forever. I’m not going to make it, you know that.” Nova was perfectly calm now. If Danna was in danger, then Nova was ready to die for her. She’d do anything for Danna.

“It will hold,” Danna insisted. “Nova, you can’t let go. You can’t make me live without you. You can’t.”

“I love you,” Nova screamed. “I love you so fucking much, so don’t you dare risk yourself for me.”

Now she was crying. Big fat tears rolling down her cheek, and falling down to the ground like rain.

“Hold on,” Danna pleaded.

Nova looked at Danna, tears clouding her vision. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered, and she let go.

Such a simple feat. So easy, just a single thought.

But it was the hardest thing Nova had ever done, letting go of Danna. Letting go of the life she had wanted. The life she had fought for. Letting go of her everything.

Danna still held on to Nova, but it wasn’t enough. With each breath, Nova slipped a little farther.

“Nova!” Danna screamed. “Please, just wait. We can do this. Please, I can’t live without you.”

“I love you so much,” Nova said softly, trying to convey all the unspoken words. “But there’s no good ending for us. I won’t last another hour.”

The metal railing groaned, and both girls fell a little farther.

“I don’t think we’re going to have our date tonight,” Nova said quietly.

Danna shook her head. “We will! We’ll have one every night! I swear, just hold on a little longer!”

“Danna, promise me something,” Nova said. “Promise you won’t mourn forever. Promise you’ll try and find someone new. Please.”

“Nova!”

She smiled sadly, and met Danna's eyes. “It’s okay, Danna. Let go of my hand.”

“No, I can’t,” Danna sobbed. “You can’t.”

Nova closed her eyes, and kicked off the wall, breaking the contact between her wrist, and Danna’s hand.

She could hear Danna’s scream, muffled by the wind, and then there was nothing at all.

#asks #ask game #ty!#rae tag #nobell #nova artino #danna bell #novanna #renegades #supernova #archenemies #my writing

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writingbakery · 4 years ago

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⥂ 𝐧𝐨 𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐨𝐫 (𝐚𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐬)

chapter i | price tag punch ; the last thing you’d ever expected is to see kuroo tetsuro’s lying, scheming ass again. little do you know, you’re about to get very well acquainted, all over again, for the lovely price tag of $60 million. a job’s a job, right ?

dessert pairing; international smuggler! kuroo tetsuro x international smuggler! fem reader

warnings; a solid right hook to the jaw, criminal activity, meet-ugly, reuniting exes

a/n; oh boy, i hope y’all are ready to hate kuroo’s smug lil ass !

the last time you saw kuroo tetsuro, he was harnessed to a helicopter rope above an abandoned villa as dutch police put you in handcuffs. he’d betrayed you, sold you out to the competing smugglers and stolen the briefcase containing the priceless original drafts of mozart’s earliest compositions, and he did it all with that absolutely infuriating shit eating grin he always had when he pulled a fast one on someone. usually, it was a competing thief. this time, it was you.

a years partnership down the drain, and a year’s worth of hookups & whispered love confessions burnt with that final bridge. you’d never forget the way he looked that morning, golden in the rising sun as he deserted you. your heart had never truly recovered.

luckily, you had contacts in nearly every agency; you were a free woman ten hours later, purse a little heavier from pickpocketing every cop who’d given you shit. [the hermés bag was a “self gift” from the bitchy receptionist. at least she had good taste in handbags.]

recovering from the betrayal wasn’t so easy, nor quick; you lost count of how many nights youd spent in some slicked up city bar, drowning your sorrows & scouting out new jobs. two years of rock bottom hadn’t been kind to you, but you were finally on the up & up, reestablishing yourself among the ranks of your fellow smugglers.

you were a thief, for god’s sake. you couldn’t mope forever.

thankfully, in the two years since “the dutch incident” — as you’re so dramatically labeling it — you haven’t seen so much as a whisper of tetsuro. he wasn’t accepting jobs or teaming up with anyone, not that it would matter to you if he was. in your mind, kuroo tetsuro was dead & gone; you’d like to keep it that way.

besides, you had more important things to think about than him.

you’d been tapped for a business meeting, with an elusive mr. ondori — on paper, the man was a ghost, completely off the grid. none of your contacts knew him either, so you were going in completely blind; less than ideal.

still, you trusted yourself to handle whatever life could possibly throw at you. you were prepared for anything now, & you keep that mindset as you ride the elevator up to the penthouse of an apartment block in london that looked too expensive for even your red bottom heels to walk through.

pushing open the wide, polished wood door, you can see nothing but high end furniture & floor to ceiling glass windows at first. it’s a beautiful apartment, & you’re wondering just what kind of smuggling job you were taking on when you spot an all too familiar head of spiky black hair.

never presume a thief dead until you see a body.

kuroo fucking tetsuro saunters over to your wide eyed, shocked form, a far too smug grin on his lips.

“hiya angelface — you miss me?” he looks just how you remember him; a mess of black hair falling over one eye, broad shoulders & sharp jaw shaping an unfairly handsome face. it’s like not a day’s gone by since the “dutch incident” — it’s almost laughable how little he’s changed.

for a moment, you’re both staring at each other in tense silence, neither one of you making a move to break it.

and then you pull your fist back with surprising speed, fist landing clean with a solid crack! against kuroo’s jaw.

well. that’s one way to break the tension.

when you focus again, your hand is throbbing, the lavish apartment in chaos; kuroo is whining like a bitch, blood is on the polished wood floor, & you realize with a start that he’s real. kuroo tetsuro is cowering behind a suede chair that probably cost more than the both of you combined, a split lip & a bruised jaw marring his — still stupidly handsome — face.

“i cannot believe the fucking balls on you, kuroo backstabbing piece of shit fucking rat bitch tetsuro ! you were dead to me ! dead & gone, for good, & you’ve got the audacity to trick me into meeting you here after you fucking sold me out—“

“alright, alright okay ! just let me explain, okay? please put down the vase.” you didn’t even realize you were holding it, brandishing it above your head like a weapon more like.

you lower it slowly, face not changing as he straightened himself out. “five minutes, kuroo. five minutes, then i’m leaving.”

he nods hastily, hands still up in a peaceful gesture as he watches you put the vase down. sighing in relief, he sits down in the chair, motioning towards the free one across from him — which you tentatively sit in.

“first... i’m sorry. i know it doesn’t mean shit now—“ “—you’re damn right it doesn’t—“ “—but still. i’m sorry. i’m also sorry that i can’t give you an explanation. but i’ve got a job for us now, so can we just.... put it behind us, at least until i offer you the job?”

you nod slowly, your glare not softening in the slightest; he’ll take what he can get.

“$60 million, kitten. 60. million. dollars. typical billionaire bullshit — he cheated on his wife, she robbed him of the most expensive thing he had in the house, he wants it back. in & out, okay?” the price tag makes your eyes water, & it almost seems laughably easy. except....

“why me? the amount of smugglers you could hire before me is longer than your dick—“

“ouch, kitten, no need for insults.”

“stop calling me that. you lost the rights two years ago.” he sulks a little at that, but you’re past that. he’s lucky you’re even still listening. “why me, kuroo?”

“i’ll be honest, i wouldn’t have decided on you either. i figured... i’d done you enough damage. but it was a condition of the job. i could have anyone on my team, but you had to be apart of it.” you frown at his words, confused & concerned; why would they want you?

luckily, kuroo’s got an answer for you, looking sheepish. “i’m not as good on my own, i’ll be the first to admit it. fucked up some jobs since we split. it’s probably insurance, ya know?”

the answer isn’t enough, but you accept it, mulling over the proposal with a sigh. “$60 million?”

“$60 million, ki— [y/n], & you’ll never have to see my ugly mug again. hell, you could retire. aren’t you tired of running?”

the words ring around in your head, & you can’t lie, it’s too good to pass up; even if it meant being stuck with kuroo for longer than you’d ever be comfortable with again.

“$60 million & i ghost, kuroo. i’m not doing this for you, so don’t expect me to like it, either.” from the look on his face, you’d have thought you’d agreed to marry him in paris.

“you won’t regret this, kitten. i mean, [y/n]. “ god, that’s going to get annoying.

“shut up, kuroo.”

“of course, dear.”

whap!

“ow ! alright, jesus christ kitten— put the vase down!”

bonus: “i’m surprised you didn’t know it was me. ondori literally means rooster in japanese. you’d call me rooster head all the time.”

“yeah, back when you were tolerably insufferable & not a waste of good, clean oxygen.”

“ouch, kitten. you’re a murderer with words.”

[taglist: @cloudydayanime @animefandomally @seita @kyberhearts @rienin ]

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fanfiction #kuroo tetsuro x reader #kuroo x reader #hq!! au #hq!! x reader #haikyuu!!#haikyuu kuroo #evywrites #kuroo x you #kuroo x y/n #no honor series

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ratonnhhaketon · 4 years ago

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See The Fire In Your Eyes (Chapter 4)

Read on Ao3 | Previous | Next

Summary: Catherine Hays grew up in a picture-perfect, high society family in Virginia. She had her whole life planned out for her and was about to get married to a man she could not stand. When her brother uncovers a murder plot and has to pay with his own life, Catherine decides she can’t continue playing along. She takes control of her own destiny and goes south to a pretty little town called Blackwater.

Warnings: Swearing, Canon-typical violence, Kidnapping

Chapter 4 - Misadventures In Mail Delivery

It had been about two weeks or so since the incident with the stagecoach, and Catherine had definitely been keeping busy around camp. Mrs. Grimshaw quickly put her to work with the laundry, dishes, and assisting Pearson with the stew preparation. Adjusting to the life of an outlaw was a slow and strange process, especially after never having to do regular chores prior her entire life, but it was starting to feel normal. She even picked up new skills and hobbies that she enjoyed, like sewing, despite how many times she pricked herself while Tilly taught her the basics.

Catherine awoke to a particularly chilly morning and quickly got dressed in an effort to block out the cold air. A simple long-sleeved maroon shirt and a pair of black jeans, that she actually preferred over skirts after wearing them so often, accompanied her riding boots. She ran a brush through her tangled hair, taking time to pay special attention to a stubborn knot in the back, before putting it in a simple plait.

As she exited her small tent she raised her arms up and stretched, groaning a bit when her lower back popped a bit. Like every morning, she made a beeline to the fire and grabbed a cup of coffee.

Hosea called her over to the table he was currently sat at. “Would you mind taking a ride into town to pick up the mail?”

She gave a quick nod at him before downing the rest of her coffee. “Of course! What do we need?”

“Mrs. Grimshaw ordered some clothes and there are probably some letters for Dutch and myself.”

“Sounds good. I’ll get a move on now.” They shared a smile before Hosea returned his attention to the book in his lap and Catherine headed back to her tent. She grabbed the dark blue jacket that was slung on top of her clothing trunk before walking over to where Arthur, John, and Lenny were standing and enjoying their coffee. “Morning fellas,” she said with a warm smile as she pulled the jacket on.

The group replied with their own nods and small ‘morning’s of acknowledgement before she spoke up again. “Well I’m heading into town to grab the mail, any of you need me to pick up somethin’ from the store?”

Arthur spoke up first. “A pack of cigarettes would be nice.”

~~~~~

She looked between the other two as they just shook their heads. “Can do, Mr. Morgan. I should be back in an hour or so.”

The ride into town went smoothly as always. Catherine passed only a few people on the road, as the sun was still just over the horizon, and stopped at the post office first. She collected everything they needed, a stack of letters addressed to the ringleaders of the gang and a package for Miss Grimshaw. She securely strapped the package to the back of her horse before slipping the letters into the saddlebags and walking to the general store.

Catherine made a quick lap around the store, picking up Arthur’s request as well as a can of peaches for herself and some candies for Jack. As she stood at the counter to pay she felt someone staring at her and quickly looked around the store before taking note of the man paying a little too much attention to the box of biscuits in his hand. She passed the clerk a few bills before gathering her things and returning to her horse.

As she was putting the things into the saddlebags, that same looming presence of someone watching made itself known once again. Catherine quickly slipped the cigarettes and chocolate bar into the inner pocket of her jacket before she mounted and spurred her horse into a gallop to get out of town as fast as possible. When she was barely half a mile out of town the sound of steady hooves following her seemed to grow louder with each passing moment. She spared them a quick glance over her shoulder before turning off of the road and into the thick forest of Tall Trees.

Her mare protested every time she was spurred on to keep up her pace, but the stead never once slowed down. Catherine ducked and weaved through low hanging branches, keeping a hand held out in front of her face to avoid any collisions.

The sound of hooves only faded for a moment as she ducked into the forest before reappearing almost twice as loud. A small “shit!” escaped her lips as the sound of hooves and the edge of Tall Trees grew closer.

Catherine failed to realize that she was nearing a small cliff and, before she could slow down, her horse slid down the slope uncontrollably. Her mare began to freak out, frantically trying to regain its footing on the loose dirt and rocks, and bucked her off in the process. She fell to the ground with a hard thud, pain in her chest and the air fully gone from her lungs.

Between ragged breaths as she lay on the ground, trying to regain her breathing, she noticed the sounds of hooves had stopped and steady footsteps crunching leaves began to approach her. She tried to reach for her pistol but one of the men shot a bullet next to her head, obviously missing on purpose.

“The boss is gonna be very happy about this,” the other man chucked. The last thing she saw was her mare sprinting off in the direction of camp before the butt of a rifle knocked her out cold.

~~~~~

“Hey, Lenny!” Arthur called to the man on guard duty as he walked towards his horse. “Has Miss Hays gotten back yet?”

He adjusted the rifle in his hand as he turned to look back at the man behind him. “No, I haven’t seen her.”

“Damn, I could use that pack of cigarettes she promised.” No sooner than the words left his mouth did the steady gallop of hooves start to approach the camp. The two men looked towards the sound expecting to see the woman they were just discussing, but were met with her dark brown mare barreling down the path. Arthur, wasting no time at all, instinctively put his hands up to slow the horse and grab the reins. He calmed her down enough that she stopped moving, though she was still shaking her head and huffing from the unfamiliar contact.

The two men shared a glance before Lenny spoke up. “Well,” he exhaled. “This ain’t good.”

~~~~~

The world was a haze around Catherine as she started to come to her senses. The room she was in was mostly dark, with a small stream of light peeking in from the torn curtain. She blinked a few times to get her eyes adjusted to the space around her. It was a small room, with a mattress pushed against the opposite corner of the room and a table covered in playing cards and empty cigarette cartons next to her.

Her mouth was dry and tasted like metal. Her vision was still blurry from the darkness, but she could still tell her eyes were very swollen. Despite her whole body screaming and protesting against her, she tried to move. Her muscles ached against the rope tied around her hands and legs.

She stopped struggling when a male voice spoke up outside. “How much longer do we have to be in this shithole?”

Another man replied, “Another day or two, probably. Just waiting on Calvin to send word for us to send her back.”

She felt her stomach churn. Of course he was behind this.

The door to the cabin swung open and she could vaguely make out the shape of a man walking towards her. “Look who’s awake, boys!” As he walked closer she recognized the figure to be the man that shot at her earlier.

“I’d rather die than go back to that rat,” she spat, struggling against the ropes.

The man laughed and crouched down next to her. “As much as I would love to make that happen,” he said with a smile. “I’m afraid Mr. Foster specifically requested you be returned alive so he could decide exactly what to do with you.” He lifted up a hand to her cheek, stroking the soft skin with his thumb. God , she wanted to throw up. Or punch him in the face. “Pity though, that he gets to have all the fun with you. I bet you’d make a very-”

Before he could continue she moved her face to the right towards his hand and bit down hand, directly at the base of his thumb. He yanked his hand back and grabbed it, making sure that he wasn’t bleeding. Catherine looked at him with fire in her eyes and he returned the gaze with pure anger. “You bitch!!” he yelled, using his opposite hand to slap her across the face. Her head went back and hit off the hardwood of the wall behind her, a yelp of pain escaping her lips. The world started to spin around her and her vision started to get hazy. She vaguely heard the man spew some string of curse words at her before she blacked out.

~~~~~

The second time she woke was to gunfire outside of the small cabin. The men that captured her were not only yelling a lot between each other, but she had a feeling that they were losing the fight as well.

“Check inside, we’ll keep watch out here,” a distant voice said. It sounded hazy and muffled as it broke through the ringing of her ears.

The door to the house opened and she tightly shut her eyes from the heavy moonlight. After a moment she opened them to see a figure approaching her, to which she instinctively curled her bruised body further into a ball. Her figure shook violently from fear and the cold air surrounding her.

“Hey, s’okay. I ain’t gon’ hurt ya.” the figure spoke up in a soft tone. The voice was deep and gravelly but also gentle. One that felt familiar and safe.

She looked up with tears in her half-lidded eyes and said, “Arthur?” Her voice was weak and sounded almost like a wheeze.

“Shhh, it’s alright. We’re gon’ getcha outta here.” He carefully cut the ropes on her arms and hands. “Can ya walk?” When Catherine slowly shook her head Arthur bent down to slide his arms under her legs and behind her back. He hoisted her body up- to which she let out a loud cry of pain- and walked back out of the small cabin, careful to not hit her against the doorframe. She rested her head against his chest as they walked to try and stop the world from spinning around her.

For the first time in what was probably days she felt safe.

“Take her back to camp,” another voice spoke up. “We’ll stay back for a bit and make sure no one is left.” Arthur sat her on the front of his horse’s saddle and carefully got in behind her to assure she wouldn’t fall during the ride.

As they rode off back towards camp Catherine kept her head propped up against Arthur’s chest with her eyes closed, desperately trying to ignore the aching pain her body felt as the horse galloped. Her right hand clutched the front of his shirt, her legs dangling over the side of the horse, and a few stray tears leaked out of her eyes.

“Well be back soon, just stay with me.” She felt his chest rumble against her head as he spoke and groaned out in pain, to which he instinctively wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “I know it hurts but we’ll be back soon.”

She started to feel lightheaded and groggy. Using the last of her strength, Catherine opened her puffy eyes and looked up at Arthur. “Wasn’t.. O’Driscolls,” she murmured, voice nearly giving out at the end.

The last thing she heard was Arthur’s confused “What?” before her field of view was swallowed into blackness and she slipped out of consciousness again.

~~~~~

Catherine didn’t remember much of what happened after that. She remembered a lot of yelling, people rushing around, and what she thinks was Arthur and Lenny talking. When she was finally fully conscious she woke up to a very dry mouth and almost every part of her body in pain. She looked at her surroundings and realized she was back at camp, in her tent, with Hosea reading a book beside her cot. Upon noticing her awake he smiled and shut the book, and reaching for a cup of water he had resting on the crate next to her.

“Good to see you awake, Catherine.” He helped her lean up and drink, reminding her to go slow and breathe so she didn’t choke. “You gave us all quite the scare.”

Before she could reply the flap to her tent was opened and Arthur’s familiar hat peaked in. “Glad to see you’re up.”

She felt the corner of her mouth turn up in a light smile at his voice. Hosea waved Arthur in and stood before saying, “I’ll let you catch her up on everything, but make sure she eats something and gets a lot of rest.” He gave Arthur a pat on the arm before leaving and closing the tent’s canvas.

“How..” she started, struggling to speak as her throat was still sore and voice was almost gone. “How long was I out?”

Arthur sat down in the chair next to her and leaned back. “A few days. You’ve been in and out a couple times, but never as aware as ya’ are now. Hell, Reverend was considerin’ reading you yer last rights last time you were conscious.” They shared a chuckle at the thought before Arthur continued. “Took a hell of a beating back there but at least Miss Grimshaw will go easy on you for a while.”

Arthur looked at her for a second and took in her features. “Do you have any idea who those men were? ‘Cause you said they ain’t O’Driscolls when we were coming back to camp.”

She let out a sigh. “Yeah, I do.” Her gaze shifted from him to the canvas covering the top of the tent. “Calvin sent them. The man I was supposed to marry.”

He looked down at his feet and nodded, before looking back up at her a moment later. “I’m guessing he’s not too happy you left your old life?”

Catherine’s eyes returned to the man next to her. “Not at all.” She swallowed the lump in her throat and looked down at her hands, her thumbs fidgeting together in her lap. “I’m sorry you have to deal with this. I didn’t want to get you all wrapped into more problems than you already have.”

Arthur leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees. “Catherine,” he said with a sincere tone, “You’re a part of this gang now, which makes you family. And as a family one person’s problems become a concern for all of us. If this son of a bitch shows his face again we’ll take care of it.”

She smiled at the sincerity of his words, tears threatening her eyes. The two sat in silence for a moment, enjoying each other’s company before a thought popped into her head. “Oh!” she said suddenly. “Is my horse alright?”

Arthur chuckled at her concern. “She’s perfectly fine. An hour or two after you left she showed back up at camp without you, so me and Lenny figured you were in trouble. Real smart girl you got there, seeing as she was able to bring herself all the way back to camp on her own.”

Catherine smiled at the good news. “Thank god she’s alright.” Her eyes drifted to the trunk on the floor next to Arthur’s chair and she spotted her jacket laying on top of it. “Arthur, could you grab my jacket for me?” She gestured with her right hand to where it lay and he picked it up before gently laying it on the bed next to her. “Before I forget,” she said with a smirk as she reached into the pocket on the inner lining. “You might be wanting these.” She handed over the, now slightly squashed, pack of cigarettes to him.

He laughed as he accepted the gift, having nearly forgotten that he even asked for them. “Thank you very much, Miss Hays.”

“Consider it payment for rescuing me from my captors.”

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im-immortal · 3 years ago

Note

Favourite EK lyrics ? ❤️💜

"And I'm losing time, losing weight I'm a loser for this man I've been lost since our first date He is a tight-rope talker, I can't balance at all He says it's fascinating watching me tip-toe and crawl He says my ex-boyfriend is boring, he says the moon is the sun He says anxiety can be the source of lots of fun My best friend made a list of ways his love is off-track But I don't give a shit And I refuse to call that bitch back..." --Back On Love

"And I'm angry when he leaves me I love, they love me not Popsicle to my temples, I'm so fucking hot And I'm frustrated forever About the air that hangs around Wafting around my apartment I can't cool down..." --Popsicles

"Oh, I've been watching you all day in those dark sunglasses And I've been wanting you more and more with every moment that passes You like to say it's all wrong, I like to say it's all right The type that never hurts But to see you at this party feels like a sign from the universe But, if it's not Say you got drunk and lost, lost, lost..." --Drunk and Lost

"When the world is on fire But your heart is on ice It's hard to know what's wrong and what's right But if you wanna feel your blood burn, get to the floor Scream to God, "I want it more!" More hurricanes, snow storms, rain in my face More midnights drunk and dizzy, dancin' at your place A life of fame and fortune and the star of some show Now it's almost over, almost time to go..." --Last Chance

"And if we're gonna be laughin', I would like to be in on the joke Sometimes I think you show me scabs Just to tempt me to tear 'em away Makin' me draw blood Will never make me wanna stay Oh, it's sad but true Love is never enough..." --The Turtle and the Monkey

"And I've got a song in my head And It's never done I tried strumming out the chords The night we started having fun It sounds like crickets in the floorboards Cupcakes in the dark The drums of fireworks and staircases and Echo Park Got your notes on napkins And my blood on your walls Our soda glass love Could only take so many falls Can only take so much rain Before it drowns, dissolves Gets dragged down the drain I only wish you the best But I've got this pain in my chest It doesn't soften or scab Lessen or fade..." --Soda Glass

"Maybe I just wanted love so badly I drew it up to look like you Colored in the corners with some lipstick What's a girl at a rock show supposed to do?" --Boy Band Hero

"The movie goes by so fast It's been a month and a year The world is a hurricane You and I are just a single tear The mountains cut against the sky It's like I'm in some dream The supporting character to something else's lead..." --The Supporting Character

"I am done with the jealousy Done with the fighting Done with the words that feel just like biting I have found a new man with a heart he wants to share It just goes to show, life isn't always unfair I have pumped new blood into this heart for him to take We're gonna move to California, to a house on a lake And someday, we will kiss, in front of family and friends Only cake and champagne and no need for weapons..." --Weapons

"I can't help but break in half each time you ask me to bend I can't help but unravel when you pull out a thread I just lose my mind when you mess with my head And I will always throw a tantrum if you throw me just some bone I'm not your puppy, I'm a famous fish, who'd rather swim alone..." --Mermaid Song

"I swear he's trying to say he loves me The way he's moving his mouth I swear he's trying to say he loves me But the words never come out Baby, that's what I call feeling mortal Put your head and cry on my shoulder We can watch the moon turn bright blood red You can stay the night in my treehouse bed Oh, he's got my soul in his hands And oh, next to Skid Row on a rooftop, we slow dance Is this forever? I'm not at my best But I'm addicted to the music Swear I hear in his chest..." --Mortal

"And oh, I kissed a boy on the west side of town With a Porsche and a million-dollar record deal Oh, but there's a boy living downtown Doesn't understand how he makes me feel Logic tells me I should drive that Porsche toward the sand But my heart only beats for this downtown man So I'm lovin' like a loser Batting zero for ten I'm gonna drive downtown and make the same mistakes again I can’t say I didn’t know better I can’t say that I was just naive When he left before the night was over I was crying in a blanket on my knees Praying, “God, please give me direction” Scrub away his scent with five-star hotel soap It doesn’t matter how he pushes and pulls Oh, Los Angeles, I’ll never give up hope..." --Same Mistakes

"She said she's packed to go But I know she'll never leave 'Cause when it comes to giving her whole heart My sister's just like me..." --Genetic Makeup

"You've got these rough spots I'll rub 'em down I wanna show you I'm not just some easy girl you found Let's go to Paris, let's go to Rome You're like a hotel that I keep wishin' was my home You're like a hotel I mistake for a home..." --Easy

"I am a sun, he's like a cloud I gotta know what he's about So I defy the laws of daylight Turning down the waves that burn bright He gets heavy, he gets dark He leaves a shadow on my heart Now I'll never light the world the same Without windy whispers of his name..." --Jonathan

"You build castles in the clouds, when the sky was clear and blue No one else sees cloud castles 'cept for me and you And the grayness turns to glitter, with a laugh and a wink All the buildings are outlined in orange, and gold and pink My black, white life turns to color But baby, I'm with another..." --Masterpiece

"But I was never yours, and you're no longer mine Oh, I'd like to kiss you, but my lips are purple And I'd like to love you, but our love is spent And we wasted our wishes, hurt our best friends, Made a home in heartache, And now we can't pay the rent So what can I, what can I do for you, honey? Buy you a coffee? Lend you some money? Walk you to Times Square. walk to the moon?" --Times Square

"Stealing all my thunder when I try to boast It's got it hooks in my brain like a radio song Over and over 'til I'm forced to sing along You're a smart, pretty catch, quite a winner If you were just a few pounds thinner Oh, I wanna be skinny, let my bones show Let the world grow while I am shrinking I wanna be beautiful, I'm constantly in fear And crying midnight tears 'bout what you're thinking Oh, God, give me self-control God, give me one more mile God, give me some small space to fit for a while..." --Skinny

Well, that got away from me :) But I can't even begin to explain how much I relate to EK's lyrics. Her music is beautiful for so many reasons. Thanks for the ask! <3

#ask im-immortal #emily kinney music

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jojo-reader-hell · 5 years ago

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if requests are open,,,,,,, Blease,,, I need formaggio as an older brother to a little sister who's 17 and almost as fucking chaotic as he is,,,,,,, I'm DIE

YAAAAAAAAAS FIRST REQUEST!!! I’m living for all of us wanting big brothers! And I love stinky cheese man, so I hope you enjoy this little thing I had on my mind whilst doing the dishes at work!

...

Formaggio was lucky...

“GET YOUR FILTHY HANDS OFF ME!”

Crying echoed throughout the streets of Napoli. If he hadn’t decided on a whim to take the alley, he would have been too late.

“Shut your yap whore!”

He was running. The crying was getting louder. Nearly tripping over his own feet. He could hear the screams, they were yours. There was no mistaking that voice. Hothead that you were, you wanted more than anything to escape the hellhole that was the family home, even if it meant joining him in his life of debauchery. You’d used that exact word. Like he simply picked pockets on Sundays.

“GET OFF OF ME! GET OFF!”

It wasn’t easy to keep you away. After he stopped sending letters he thought you would give up. You used to follow him, screaming and carrying on in a fit when he finally had to drag you back home, could still feel the pain on his knees where you would kick at him. Of course being your big brother, Formaggio could easily outrun you if need be. Yet that didn’t make it any easier. He still died inside any time he had to go. It was easier to be a check in the mail for you to cash, that way your parents wouldn’t drink up the money. As much as he wanted to save you from that den of squalor he knew there wasn’t any way they’d let a teenage girl without a Stand into Passione. There was no work to be had for a young lady... well, that was a lie. There was always work in the mafia for everyone.

But he could never do that to you. Couldn’t live with himself if he allowed them to dress you in the shortest dress they could find, painting you like a clown with ruby lipstick and purple eyeshadow, eventually auctioning you off to the oldest and horniest creepy bastard that would inevitably be the highest bidder. Seventeen year olds could yield a pretty price in Passione...

“I promise not to hurt you if you stop screaming~...”

“GET OFF! LIKE YOU’LL HURT ME WITH THAT NEEDLE DICK!”

“... what the fuck did you just tell me?!”

Formaggio heard the contact of a hand on skin, heard you yelp, the crumple of your body hitting the pavement. And the crying... That mother fucker who got you wouldn’t live to see the sun rise. Whoever it was, he was going to kill him. Cut his balls off and shove them down his throat for touching his baby sister. Yet as much as he was keyed up to make a kill, he found himself freezing when he saw the pink aura surrounding you. Your mouth was closed, you weren’t the one crying like a baby.

“I SAID YOU HAVE A NEEDLE DICK! YOU WANT ME TO SAY IT AGAIN?! I WILL!”

“You’re going to regret this you slut-!”

“NEEDLE DICK NEEDLE DICK NEEDLE DICK NEEDLE DICK NEEDLE DICK-!”

You screamed like a five year old throwing a tantrum, the crying turning into a shrill scream that made Formaggio clap his hands over his ears. Through the caterwauling he could hear another’s screams joining that of the Stand that was howling over your hunched form. The one that had been trying to take your innocence had blood soaking through the front of his pants, cupping his crotch and screaming in agony as you chanted your childish insults at him, the Stand holding out her hands in front of her and echoing his screams.

“GO THE FUCK AWAY!”

He had to have gone deaf temporarily, it seemed like it would never stop, until you stood and threw your hands forward and sent the bastard flying. Eventually the Stand’s screams died down, breaking from a banshee’s shrieks to shallow gasps for breath. Like she’d run a marathon...

“Oh god dammit!” You growled at her, “You’re going to be alright!”

You snapped your head around when your brother called your name, screaming for him as the Stand crumpled in a heap on the dirty street.

“You FUCKHEAD!” You whined, tackling Formaggio.

“Stupida!” He screamed back at you, “What the fuck are you doing here huh?! You trying to get yourself killed?! You could have been somebody’s bitch if I hadn’t been walking this way! You fucking retarded?! What the fuck is wrong with you?! Stupida! STUPIDA!”

You both began slapping and punching at one another, your brother choking up as he demanded answers. You were so stupid... he could have lost you forever... you could have been hurt... he would have never... ever... EVER forgiven himself...

A sniffle breaks up the tearful reunion. He’d forgotten about the Stand that had protected you, and now that he was able to focus and get a better look, he noticed she seemed oddly familiar to him. Rather small, looked like a porcelain doll with long bangs covering the top of her face, only leaving her plump lips exposed as she bit them. She wrung her hands, making a clacking noise as her long two toned hair shook back and forth.

“What the fuck...” he muttered under his breath.

“I don’t know where she came from or who she is...” you insisted, “But she keeps following me and she won’t leave me alone... can ghosts interact with people?? She... she’s been helping me find you.”

“Uuuughuuu... ughhwaa...”

Her voice was strangely garbled, like she was being drowned under water. Now that he got a good look at you, he noticed your eyes didn’t mirror his own anymore. The pupils were enlarging, beginning to take over the iris and sclera as the Stand kept wringing her hands.

“Stop it Cry Baby!” You cried. “You’re alright! They didn’t even hit you, I’m the one that got punched!”

You rubbed an angry spot on your cheek, making yourself and the Stand, Cry Baby, flinch. She hiccuped, saliva running down her lips as your eyes began to water.

“Don’t you fucking dare!” You warned.

“Uuuughwaaah... Waaah... WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH!!!”

Her howling before was nothing compared to this, and evidently she had complete control over your emotions as well. You started in on the water works like Formaggio had never seen before, hiccuping and wailing as though you were an infant. He couldn’t do much to help... it was all too much... it was hard feeling so helpless...

“WAAAAAAAAAUGH!!! AAAAAAAUGH!! Mmmm.... Mwuuuugh??”

Cry Baby stopped just as suddenly as she started. It had to have been instinct... There was no other way... no other explanation for Little Feet to be rocking the Stand in his arms, nuzzling Cry Baby as her screaming began to die down, your tears drying up with hers as she stuck a thumb in her mouth, whimpering and letting herself be rocked gently back and fourth, back and fourth.

There was no place for a teenage girl in Passione, but maybe... Formaggio thought, just maybe, there might be room for a Stand User with an ability such as this.

#formaggio #formaggio x reader #jojo’s bizarre adventure x reader #jojo’s bizarre adventure vento aureo #la squadra #la squadra esecuzioni #reader is a stand user #cry baby #melanie martinez #jjba stands #little feet #jjba #jjba va #jjba x reader #jjba stand oc #stand oc

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wilde--at--heart · 3 years ago

Text

End of March - Alex Learns a Couple of Truths

ALEX

No lights are on when I open the door to my condo. I should’ve swung by here yesterday. Except that a major project for Hoodoo Mobile kept failing to render. I had to spend all day calming the client (and nagging Bridget about finding decent tech support, since that falls under her ever-expanding domain). I stumble over a stack of flat boxes. I’m about to blow a gasket. Chris isn’t close to moving out. I’ve been beyond patient with her. I’m tempted to start packing her stuff myself.

My rage defuses at the sight of her. She’s asleep on the cream leather sofa, hugging a ratty beige teddy bear like a sweet, neglected child (she was). Moonlight streams in from the side window. The pale silver light illuminates her face. I stand still, watching her. God, she’s beautiful. With her long lashes and turned-up nose, she resembles an old-fashioned doll. I didn’t want to hurt her, but I had to.

My eyes fall to a sheet of paper on the coffee table. I pick it up, curious. My heart lurches in my chest. A grayish blob floating in a sea of black, a tiny dark smudge on one side. I can hardly believe it.

Our child.

Christine really is pregnant. She wasn’t lying.

I am going to be a dad.

I perch next to her, gently shake her shoulder. “Hey, Chris.”

Her eyes flutter open. Her mouth splits into a grin of perfect little teeth.

“Alex!” Her face is radiant. She looks ecstatic to see me. No one else looks at me the way she does. Not even Marissa. Her eyes gleam bright. Her smile has no artifice. There is nothing controlled about her. She’s wild and free, which I absolutely loved about her, but hated, too. She could never rein herself in. Right now, I don’t care. I cut my own reins loose.

I throw my arms around her. She smells like strawberries and her Satsuma shampoo. I missed her smell. I feel as if I’ve come home again after a decade-long absence. “I hope you’re okay. I’ve been such a jerk to you and I’m sorry. It didn’t even hit me until now.”

She doesn’t say a word. Just clings to me like a barnacle on rock. I wonder what’s going through her mind, search my own for what I should say. The strap of her silk nightdress slides off her shoulder. My eyes fall to her engorged breasts. I hate how I convinced myself she was lying (because it was easier).

Our lips meet and we begin kissing. God, how I miss her sometimes, the old her, when we first got together. I’m kissing that person now. I run my hand along her shoulder and down her arm. Her skin is as soft and silky as her negligee. I reach up underneath and slip it off over her head. I run my hand along her bare tummy. I plant a kiss.

Inside, a brand new life is forming.

Made from my life, and hers.

A miracle.

* * * * *

CHRISTINE – 5:30 am

Alex snoozes on the couch while I lie on my back in bed wide awake. Fooling around felt like old times, but I know him. He’ll wake up hung over with guilt, and convince himself it was no big deal because we stopped short of going all the way. We didn’t fuck. A midnight text from his new girlfriend interrupted us. When it comes to relationship boundaries he has the precision of a lawyer. I roll onto my side and hear the pipes in the bathroom shudder, then the shower hissing. He is so predictable. Up and at ‘em way earlier than he needs to be. As soon as he’s finished, I go to confront him in the bathroom.

“I’m almost done.” He keeps his towel around his waist while he steps into his boxer briefs. I can feel his guilt from where I’m standing. “They scheduled this stupid power breakfast at the Ramada and I just got the call for it. Harvey’s going to be there so I have to go.”

The steamy air stifles me. I flip on the exhaust fan and block the door. “I know you don’t want to be with me. All I ask is for you to have a relationship with him or her once they’re born.”

He hangs his head, resumes getting dressed. He can’t even look at me. “Of course I will! What do you take me for? I don’t understand why you always assume that––”

“I’ll be honest,” I say, praying that whoever this new chick is, she kicks him to the curb. If she doesn’t, she has zero pride. Knowing him, he hasn’t told her yet. “I wish we were still together. I know what it’s like to grow up without a father around and––”

“I’m sorry, Chris.” He holds his arms around me. His skin is sticky. The smell of his aftershave stings my nostrils. “We’ll talk about this later tonight. Let me know how your doctor appointment goes.”

He is so fucking cold sometimes. Goddammit! “You cheated on her last night!” I shove him square in the chest, sending him stumbling backwards, his arms flailing. Why else would he have stopped kissing me the second his phone beeped? He’s trying to have his cake and eat it too and he damned well knows it. I saw his phone. Her page-long text about all the things she was wanting to do in bed with him.

“We were never serious.” He purses his lips, bundles his clothes in his arms, and barges past me.

“Does she know that?” When he doesn’t answer, I snatch his arm, digging my nails in. He tears out of my grip, glances at the blood oozing out of a scratch on his bicep, and puts on his shirt and jacket. “Better watch your balls because you’re juggling a few too many, hm?”

“Quit taking everything the wrong way! I need to think about how we should go about telling my parents and it’s not so easy to break the news to a—”

I let out an exasperated shriek, storm back into the bedroom, fling myself down on the mattress and curl up. I’m about to explode. He always does this!

“I’ll talk to you later!” Alex calls through the door. Then I hear the one to the hallway slam shut. Rage boils in me; I’m freaking out. If Alex were any kind of man, he’d be here for me. He’s a fucking pathetic coward, a lying, cheating shit, and probably stringing how many new chicks along right now.

I stomp into the living room, desperate to blow off steam. I grab a side of the nearest bookshelf and slam it to the floor. God, that feels good. High on endorphins, I pitch Alex’s favorite vase against the wall, feeling an amazing rush as I watch it shatter into a million glittering pieces that catch the rays of the morning sun. The gift from his bitch of a mother couldn’t have met a more deserving fate. I wish it was her skull. Would serve her right for calling me trash right to my face.

Next, his precious stereo. I pick up the amp and raise it high over my head like a WWE wrestler about to smash a chair over the head of his opponent.

“What are you doing?” Alex gawks at me from the hallway.

Shit. “I thought you left.”

“I forgot my ...” His eyes land on the splinters of crystal spilled across the floorboards. He shakes his head and I’m on the verge of collapsing in tears. He’ll never understand why I get like this. I have this monster inside of me. No matter how much I try to keep it chained, it always breaks loose.

“Hormones,” I whimper, but he’s too furious to care. While I stand frozen like a marble statue, he takes the amp out of my hands and tucks it under his arm.

“I can’t deal with you like this––get help. Mental help. This is why we aren’t together anymore! Thanks for reminding me!” He leaves again, slamming the door behind him. I’m so numb I feel my whole sense of self slipping away, disappearing into thin air. I don’t need help, I just need him to be more understanding, to stop being so goddamned cold. Just once.

Fuck it. I call his direct line at work. If I word it the right way, he’ll have to hear what I say before he realizes it’s me and hangs up. At the beep I say, “You tell her, or I will. Bye.”

#Destination Wedding #Novel #suspense novel #Love triangle #stalker #stalking #psycho ex #crazy ex girlfriend #crazy ex gf #crazy ex #fiction

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gen-z-student-quotes · 5 years ago

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Heres a ton of quotes from my high school

Student 1: “I had a leg up on her but you saw how that turned out…” Student 2: “How did you have a leg up?” 

S1: “She knew my great grandpa.” S2: “And how old is he?” S1: “He’s dead.” S2: “Oh…” Student: I thought I just took a human life. S1: “I need one that’ll hold all eight of my children.” S2: “I thought you had like twenty?” S1: “…I killed them.” S1: “Click it real fast!” S2: “NO! Thats illegal in the state of the United States!” Science Teacher: It’s time for Duggie to get frisky. Band Director: “Who has the Kubasa?” Student: “Im a kubasa!” BD: “You’re not a sausage.” Science Teacher: “Third rock from the sun.” S1: “Jupiter…right?” S2: “….NO!” Librarian: Maybe its possessed by satan. BD: Tuba or not tuba. Student: Tuesday is the best day of the week for some unknown reason other than the fact that it’s Tuesday. Science Teacher: My head is very foggy today and the drugs haven’t helped. Don’t quote me on that. Student: “How should parents handle a bad report card?” 

Spanish Teacher: “Death.” Student: Aaron, move your penis out of the way. I need to get water. Student: Do I really want to go to medical school or am I subconsciously trying to impress my parents? Thats a secret I don’t even know. Im always having a crisis. XOXO, Family Disappointment S1: “Something fun to hit.” S2: “On.” S1: “That was stupidly smooth and I hate you for it.” Student: “Called the Scuds.” Spanish Teacher: “Hah. This gets worse the more you talk.” Student: I got through middle school via sleep deprivation and self deprecation. Student: I’m high bi and ready to die but I’m single and too focused on getting into a good university to mingle so cross cross applesauce do me a favour and just get lost Student: Im here Im queer and i'm full of existential fear. Student: Im single but I’m too afraid of rejection to mingle. Student: Im not a jellyfish… (quietly) I’m a human. Student: I went to bed at 9:30 last night. I am THRIVING! Student: I don’t know why but I have a weird fear of Catholics. Student: This band is the beginning of a porno I swear. X15 Student: Tea is just leaf juice and its gross. Student: Coffee is just bean juice so- S1: “Whats wrong with murder?” S2: “A lot of things Emilee- Theres a lot of thing wrong with murder.” Student: You called me a ginger yesterday. I will give you gingivitis. Student: “How do you do it?” English Teacher: “Most of us are medicated” S1: *barks and growls* S2: Silence you furry. Science Teacher: “Potassium.” Student: “Bananas” Student: Quit! You got fry dust in my eye! Student: See if your Armor of God protects you now. Science Teacher: I hit 190 pounds and I felt like a toad. Science Teacher: “It was really a cool feeling.” Student: “Was that a pun?” Science Teacher: “…Frosty.” S1: “Moment.” S2: “I’ve been singing that wrong my entire life! I thought it was woman!” S1: *Turning around in rolling chair* “Wait- repeat what you just said.” Student: Why did you draw a burning Elmo? Creative Writing Teacher: “The ‘H’ word” Student: “Hell?” CW Teacher: “nO!” S1: “Who said I ruined the peanut butter sandwich? It is now a cockroach peanut butter sandwich.” S2: “Ewww” S1: “Crunchity munchity.” Student: *while walking out of class* See you all in therapy. Student: *while walking back in* Hello guys, its just your neighborhood disappointment. Science Teacher: “Are you talking to your stomach?” Student: “Yeah..” Science Teacher: “Thats weird.” Student: “What are you dressed up as?” Spanish Teacher: “The bitch that I am.” Student: Im gonna name my kids gonorrhea. No, Crabs Brown. Student: Suck my strap on. Student: Its pronounced DIK DIK! Student: I’m gonna drink lead. Student: Mrs. Bustle, do you know what gonorrhea feels like? Science Teacher: Thats the stupid molecule at work again! Vice Principle: No reason to go outside today. Its cold… rainy….. I don’t want you to get sick. You can go outside during the bonfire. Where it will be cold and rainy! Student: I walk around the house with a non-binary flag on my ass. Student: This tea would taste a lot better if I was on a deserted island. Student: Our generation are the ones who ate tide pods. Natural Selection is coming for us. Student: It all started with Harambe. Student: Its my turn on the brain cell! Math Teacher: I had no expectations but you still disappointed me. Science Teacher: The cool thing about rocks is that you can throw them at your friends. Animal Care Teacher: Remember! Don’t flush the hamsters! Student: The toothbrush water isn’t the same. Band Director: I will tear out your liver! Student: *In spanish* You’re a whorehey. Student: I’m a complement to have in your life. *Seconds later* Can I jump out the window now? Student: *Walks in the room* I think my phone just shit itself. Student; Half of them were in serious relationships- wait, that makes me sound like a hoe. S1: “It was something you used to be obsessed with.” S2: “Oh…..Depression.” S1: “Are these eyeballs?” 

S2: “Uhhh duh.” S1: “Why were they in the microwave?” S2: “I was doing an experiment!” 

Student: I WILL beat your ass. Student: I’d probably go out and stand in the middle of the hallway, mocking them. Student while pushing themselves across the floor: Slither slither… *louder* Slither slither.. *louder* I’m a snake. Slither slither SSSssssSShksssks Student: I want to turn my finger nails into potato chips. I want to dip them in hot grease and flavor them barbecue. Student: *In a terrible Russian accent.* Close the door! I don’t want my toes to be turned into popsicles! Vice Principle: Today we are having food…I’m not sure what it is but it’s food. S1: “Ok boomer.” 

S2: “I’m not a boomer I’m a Leo!” Student: Are you looking at Reindeer privates? Student: The shit you see at 4am in *Insert Town Name* is very interesting.

- I think it's really cool when you guys send us these 🖕

#gen z #gen z humor #gen z life #gen z memes #gen z problems #gen z quotes #gen z funny #gen z mood #gen z stuff #gen z things #submission

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einlov · 5 years ago

Text

Knife to a fist fight.

A story between two troublemakers. 🔪 + 🌸

🌸~🔪| Featuring: Male-to-Female reader! | 🌸~🔪

Warning: Transphobia and Violence.

Playful warning: The best parents in the damn world! 🏳️‍⚧️

Setting: School! (elementary-ish??-middle?)

Day: Valentine’s Day

Word count: ✰ 13k ✰

Children’s laughter and screams fills the sunny atmosphere. The temperature is above 75 degrees, but the soft wind cools everyone down. I continue to play with my rock collection, they all have names, but there’s one that stands out from the rest. The rock is fragile, it seems to break when under pressure, even if it’s a simple squeeze. I tend to keep that rock away from the others as the rock doesn’t feels accepted from the others. Staring at the rock, I hear my teacher calling back the class, dusting off I collect the collection and walk over to the teacher.

We all head into the bland classroom and take our seats. I take the table that has no one around it. The teacher stands in front of the classroom, “Now, we can finally pass out our Valentine’s candies. Remember, if I see a wrapper on the floor though the passing out will be canceled.” The room erupts with sighs and “yes ma’am!” In a flash students head for the backpacks and hands out candy and cards to their friends. All I can do is watch. After everyone passed out their goodies, I was empty-handed. The teacher flashes me a sad smile and continues to help other students with passing out goods. The table near me looks back at me and laughs, they continue with their gossip. Bitting my lip I stare at my lap, I was wearing the skirt for our uniforms. The school almost kicked me out because ‘I’m a male’. Thanks to my parents, they kept me in the school by cursing out the principal and threatening legal action. They are and will always be my supporters. Helping me feel more comfortable with myself, mom covered my face in subtle makeup and I wore bows in my hair. That didn’t stop the teasing though, “You know, my mom told me that sinners don’t get good things.” I look up at the girl at the nearby table, she leans near my table with a smirk. Her friend joins in, “Yup, and my mom said that people like you deserve to burn in hell.” The boy across from them stares at me, “God don’t like ugly!” They all laugh in unity. My face is blank, I’ve heard that comment for the whole school year. I simply ignore them and go back to staring at my favorite rock in my jacket pocket.

The period is finally over after continuous nasty comments and hits with candy pieces. One piece hit my eye, all I can see is floaters from that eye. When they were confronted by the teacher they said it was an accident. She believed it. I sigh while walking to gym class. I was staring at the two lockers rooms, the coach demands me to go into the boys locker room as she says, “Look, as long as your name is (deadname), you will still be put into the system as male. I’m sorry, but you need to go in there.” I sigh and head to the boys locker room slowly. All I hear is my heart beating rapidly, then a high-pitched voice catches my attention, “HEY YOU! What are you doing?!” I look back to see a girl with blond pigtails. She skips towards me, “Can’t you read? That’s the boys locker room, the girls locker room is over there!” She holds onto my arm and guides me into the locker room, I search around for the coach’s attention, she was nowhere to be found. I’m trying to pull away but her grip is way more tight. When we are near the lockers, girls stare at me blankly and whisper to each other. The blond girl looks back at me with one eyebrow up, “Well, where’s your clothes?” I look down at my feet, they are in the boys locker room, in my locker. She sighs, “You aren’t the talking type hm? Well that’s okay! I have a feeling we are going to be friends anyway!” I smile softly at the ground, she shoves shorts in my arms, “I’ll wear my shirt and you wear my shorts ok?” I nod slowly, looking around the room I spot the restrooms and enter a stall. This uniform shirt looked weird with the pink shorts, but I couldn’t help but to feel good in them. As I walk out the stall a full body mirror is in front of me. I admire the shorts, but can’t help but to reach for my flat-chest. All the girls at least have a bump in their chest area, but me. All my mind says is, ‘Because you’re a male.’ I sigh and walk over to the girl’s locker, she stands up and smiles at me. I smile sadly at her, “...thank you.” She nods extremely fast, “You look adorable! You even wear it better than me!” She puts on a fake pout, I can’t help but to smile widely. Her arm links with mine as she skips for the exit of the locker room. When we reach outside, boys that came out of their locker room glares at me. The coach runs up to me and scolds me for not entering the boys locker room. The girl beside me stares at the teacher blankly, I stare at the ground while closing my eyes. The coach sighs and rubs her forehead, “Don’t do that again! Just for that your grade is dropping 20%.” I roll my eyes while she walks away and guides the class to the court near the locker rooms. The girl near me whispers, “Bitch.” I choke on my spit and stare at her, she smiles at me gently. We both stare, laughing as we walk to the court, together.

The heat wave hits us hard as we all jog around the court. The court is wide and surrounded by basketball hoops. The blond girl kept up with my pace, she would shove some people out of our way and tease people...did I join in the taunting? YES. Oh, did it feel good, to see their faces when the blonde silently theatened them if they said something back, it was a sight. Though, that didn’t stop a kid named Liam, he is from my previous class, teasing me. The blonde pushed him out of the way as he was about to crush us into the fences near us. Liam sped up and looked back with a scolding face, “What was that for?” The blonde rolled her eyes, while my confidence grew bigger as the seconds passed near her, I said with my eyebrow connected, “Well, I don’t know, it’s not like you almost crushed us into the wired fence.” He sizes me up and down, “The fuck did you say to me he-she?” The three of us stop running as he proceeds to get in my face. My hands are shaking by my side, I can feel my eyes stinging, the heat from the sun couldn’t compare to the amount of heat my face produced. “Tch, who are you scaring? She will say it again!” The girl near me stares at me with a smirk, with all of the kids running we were covered. Though, some kids started forming a small circle around us as I open my mouth. My jaws feel like it’s going to lock in, the only noise that comes out of my mouth is a small “yeah...”. The blonde’s lips form a upside down curved line, she looks me dead in the eye and say, “Boys aren’t suppose to lay their hands on us, so, if he even tried he would get in trouble. And not just by the school.” Her eyes narrow as she says that last sentence, she holds my hand near her. I breathe and look straight at him, “Yeah...where’s your manners? Haven’t your...mom taught you how to treat...a lady- ladies?” He gets in my face and huff, “You ain’t a lady, girl, or woman, boy. You want to know what my mama taught me?” He is 4 centimeters from my face, the grip of my hands gets loose. My eyes are dilating, he continues, “When someone messes with you, you knock some sense back into them.” There was no more talking, a punch was thrown...

The circle leans back as the boy falls back from the blonde punching him square in the jaw! He stands back up and rubs his jaw, instead of tackling her, he aims at me. My first fight has begun. The circle erupts with gasp, cheers, and taunts. I fall onto the ground as he grabs for my collar, with all his weight on me I struggle to get on top of him. The coaches shouts are far but are approaching quickly, with my face turnt to the direction of the coaches voices, he takes the opportunity to punch me in my face.

And another one.

And another.

Another.

Again.

And...

Again.

...

Tears spill out of my eyes as my mouth collects dust. He takes a small break to get off me, I turn my head to spit out blood, feeling on my busted lip and searching for the blonde. When I spot her she being held by one of Liam’s friends. She continues to try to kick his...nuts as she is in front of him with her arms linked together, behind her. We catch each other’s eyes, she yells, “GET UP.” I watch Liam’s friend lift her up and throw her down into the dirt. The pain from my face is ignored as the adrenaline helps me get back up. My vision goes red. Liam stares at me with a smirk and his arms crossed, he walks around me and watches the coach approaching. Taunting me. Before I knew it, I lunge onto someone.

STRIKE ONE-

My vision is blurry, but my hands kept going...I shouldn’t punch this hard nor rapidly, but I couldn’t help by release my emotions through rearraging Liam’s friend face!

STRIKE TWO-

I wasn’t raised like this. Mom always said that words spoke louder than fist, but it felt good. Every hit felt like I was hitting a ball on a bat, my arms are shaking, my bows are scattered around us the others hung from my hair, but I can’t deny that it felt good to stand up again and-

STRIKE THREE-

Be needed and supported. I’m doing this for me and for my new...friend. If someone taught me something it would be ‘When someone messes with you, you knock some sense back into them’. T-ha. I guess Liam isn’t so bad after all, at least for life lessons. I have a feeling he’ll be on the TV for aggravated assult.

The blonde is near me holding back Liam from getting to me, her hair is pointing in all different directions, our clothes are covered in dust and dirt. Liam is trying to restrain from hitting her, but she keeps on swinging and biting. The crowd is hopping, some people recorded. It felt like we were animals at the circus, entertaining to please their boredom. I look down at my hands, Liam’s friend is barely responsive, he is covering his face with his arms...mom is going to be disappointed in me.

I look back towards the blonde, she is reaching into her black slippers, Liam lays on the ground trying to kick her away. The sun hits a shiny surface from her hands, she does a small flick to the object, it’s small, it looks like she is gripping the side that has a handle...is that...a knife?!

I get up and reach for her from behind, but the sound came up already.

SWOOSH

My vision and hearing goes in and out as everyone in the fight was swung off each other. I was pinned down by one of the school officers, the blood of Liam was near my face, his blood was absored by sand near the concrete of the court. The blonde’s pocket knife was stained with his ruby colored blood, she quickly put it back into her shoes as the other school officer chased her. She climbed the fence and made a run for it...without me. The crowd is still around, the last thing I hear is screams, shouts, and cheers. My body relaxes, my eyelids drop.

__________________________________________________

The sound of a silky voice clouds my hearing, then that voice started to up their tone. The yelling came and my eyes are opened. Raising up was difficult, my back felt like it was on fire, I couldn’t feel my legs. The room that surrounded me was very clean and quiet, the hallway wasn’t so quiet. I was placed on a patient’s bed, it’s hard, but the covers around me were fluffy. A bottle of water sat on the table near me, I glup the water in three attempts. A nurse comes in and checks the room, “Oh, you’re awake. Good, your mother have to leave. So, you will be going home. Do you feel any pain?” I shake my hand to represent ‘kinda’. She nods and checks on the cuts and bruises that covered my body, mainly on my arms and face. Luckly, my facial features weren’t in too much damage from Liam’s attack. I wince while remembering the beatdown that occured to Liam’s friend.

A yell comes from the hallway, “YOUR CHILD CAUSED ALL OF THIS, I HOPE YOU ARE READY FOR COURT-”

That silky voice counters, “COURT MY ASS. THAT DEMON YOU PROCREATED HIT MY CHILD, MAYBE IF YOUR SON LEARNT SOME MANNERS HE WOULDN’T HIT GIRLS.”

The other woman screeched, “YOUR CHILD ISN’T EVEN A GIRL!”

There is silence.

“BITCH.”

Screams and shouts are erupting from the hallway, the nurse dashes out of the door.

“Honey! Please calm dOwN-”

“PUT DOWN THE HEELS, SWEETHEART-”

“Ah...fuck it. THAT’S MY WIFE AND I’M PROUD, GET HER BABE!”

A small smirk appears on my face, ah, yes, my parents. ‘Words speak louder than fist’. T-ha. How is she going to explain this to me?

I walk slowly to the door, my legs feel like it’s going to give out, but I made it. The door is opened slightly, I could see my mom holding onto the woman’s hair, my dad is collecting her stuff off the floor like her heels, the woman is screaming as my mom dogs her out, I was afraid the woman’s face was going to fall off! Liam is behind the woman, he is trying to pull her away from my mom. A sick smiles marks my face, it doesn’t feel good hm Liam? To watch someone you care about endure this...karma is a beautiful thing. Through all the things I’ve been through, it’s not enough, he should consider himself lucky, my mom isn’t the one for letting scum go easily.

My dad’s eyes fall on me, he is mouthing the word, “Get. In. The. Car.” I nod and grab the keys he kicks to me from the floor.

After making my escape from the school, I turn on the engine and turn on some music while waiting for my parents.

Minutes pass, my parents came out, my dad is carrying mom out of the school, something brown is in mom’s hand, hair. I couldn’t contain the chuckles that escaped my mouth. Dad opens the passagers door and places mom in the seat gently, he even placed kisses on her cheek as she continued raving about “the bitch”. He shakes his head while smirking at me, my smile becomes wider as I try not to laugh. He walks around the car and settles into the driver’s seat, we all buckle up and prepare for a long ride.

“I mean, who did she think she was? A lawyer? The bitch works at the local coffee shop, I should have theatened her with law, as I ACTUALLY have a damn degree in law.”

A lawyer that commits crimes, in this case, assult. Ah, you’re doing great mom.

My dad nods and continues to listen to her rants, my mom opens the sun visor to check herself out. Her make up looks untouched, her hair remains in perfect conditions, nails are still on, her professional outfit is still black and tidy. I turn to the window to look at myself, geez, is that Satan herself?

“I still look good, don’t I love?”

“Definitely.”

She smiles at him and leans to kiss his cheek, his lips perk up. I couldn’t help myself, “eww.”

Dad laughs while reaching for mom’s hand, she takes his hands and looks back at me, her smile fades. Her authoritarian voice appears and her face is stone. Sigh, it begins.

“Syria.”

She’s using middle names...great.

“Yes, ma’am?”

“You know what I’m going to say hm?”

I nod while crossing my arms and slouching.

. . .

“WHY IN THE HELL, DID YOU GET INTO A FIGHT?! DIDN’T I TELL YOU ABOUT KEEPING YOUR HANDS TO YOURSELF?! ARE YOU TRYING TO GO TO COURT?! DID YOU KNOW I HAVE TO PAY FOR A KID’S MEDICAL BILLS, BECAUSE YOU DECIDED TO BUST THEIR FACE IN?! HAVE YOU LOST YOUR MIND?! SYRIA, ANSWER ME, DID YOU LOSE YOUR DAMN MIND?!”

“Um, n-”

“HUSH, AIN’T NO ONE TELL YOU TO SPEAK, I’M NOT DONE!”

Geez, it was hard to not roll my eyes, but I was afraid if I did, I wouldn’t have them anymore.

“MEDICAL BILLS AREN’T CHEAP, YOU THINK MONEY GROW ON TREES?! WHERE IS THIS?! WHERE IS IT?”

She points to her head while getting close to my face, I breathe in and out.

“NOW I HAVE TWO PARENTS ON MY ASS, BOTH OF THEM CAN SUE ME AND YOUR FATHER! ESPECIALLY WHEN A DAMN WEAPON, WEAPON, WEAPON!!!! WAS IN THE FIGHT. YOU CARRYING KNIVES NOW!?”

“Mom, I didn’t carry the knife, the blonde did! She-”

“YOU JUST REMINDED ME, WHO IS THIS NEW FRIEND OF YOURS?! WHAT’S HER NAME?! AND WHAT KIND OF FRIEND RUNS TO LEAVE THEIR OWN FRIEND IN TROUBLE?! IS SHE YOUR REAL FRIEND?! WHEN DID YOU MEET HER?! IS SHE NEW?!”

I started to grip my hair and stare down at the floor, all I could do was sigh and breathe heavily.

“Love, stop, let her breathe, you know she wouldn’t start a fight willingly. Let her explain.”

Dad looks back at me slightly, a sympathetic smile is sent my way. Thank you dad. Mom breathes out and sits back in her seat. My breathing slowly regulates to the normal speed, ungripping my hair I put my hands into my lap, and look up. Mom is facing forward, she grips onto dad’s hand harder, and uses the other hand to rub her forehead.

There is silence for at least 10 minutes. We are close to home.

“Syria...why? How did it start?”

“Well, um...”

I explain EVERYTHING, I rather not be in more trouble.

“Hm, well that would explain most things like where you got the pink shorts, and who it even started it in the first place.” Sigh.

I nod, “Yup, it all leads back to the blonde. Honestly, mom, I don’t know her. I don’t believe I’ve seen her around the school before. Also, SHE was the one that carried the knife! I was trying to prevent that cut, as much as I hate Liam, I knew you were already disappointed in me. I didn’t want to disappoint you two more.”

Finally, comfortable silence, or at least comfortable enough to speak confidently.

Dad speaks up, “See, I’m telling you, we raised a good kid. You should have known she wouldn’t cause any of this.”

Mom nods slowly, “Hm, yes, but, she did antagonize him.”

“Mom, I remembered what you said to me, if I couldn’t lay my hands on him, I went to the first best thing, words.”

Dad chuckles, “That’s my kid, use her words against her, hurt doesn’t?” He leans near her to stick his tounge out at her, she rolls her eyes with a smile.

“Shut up, anyway...I did say that...touché.”

Me and dad’s laughs fills the car, mom only smiles and looks back at me.

“Alright, alright, I’ll give you that one, but you are still going on punishment for BREAKING that same rule you are shoving in my face. Also, you better stay away from that girl, she’s no good. You and her have been placed on suspension for a week and recieved a referral. You will be doing housechores until you go back to school, no ifs, ands, and buts.”

“Yes ma’am.”

Dad inputs with a smirk, “Speaking of fighting, what about your fight Ms. Mike Tyson?”

Mom chuckles and dusts off her shoulder, “Nobody talks about our daughter without getting a can of whip-ass.”

Dad nods, I smile at mom, she looks back at me and smiles back.

“Look at me, you come from a place of love, you understand? I’ll be damned to let a little hoodlum and the mother disvalue you, because you are everything with a bag of sunflower seeds, you understand?”

My teeth are showing at this point, “Yes, ma’am, tell me something I don’t know.” I dramatically flip my messy hair, a bit of dirt comes out of it.

Mom warmheartly laughs, dad smirks back at me before parking into the garage.

While dad stops the car, he collects mom’s belongings. Mom stops me from getting out and says, “Syria, listen to me, don’t be like me, be better than me. I shouldn’t have put my hands on that...woman. It was legally wrong, but sometimes our morals get in the way. Whatever you choose don’t let your emotions control you, you have a brain for a reason, use it. Also, take a shower you smell.”

I chuckle slightly and nod, she leans and kisses my forehead.

We get out and all settle at home.

A knock on my door interupts my thoughts, “Come in, please.” My dad’s head pops into the room, “Hey angel, I wanted to speak to you about what happened eariler.” I nod while crossing my legs on the bed. He walks in and sits by me.

“Firstly, what you did was irresponsible and in result, me and your mom are possibly going to face...ok likely going to face legal actions.”

I nod slowly, a small sad smile is all I give.

“But, we love you nevertheless, please stay out of trouble.”

Nodding, he continues.

“Now, with that new friend of yours...I don’t know her personally, so I don’t believe she is bad for you per se. I believe she left you for a reason. Why would she leave you after trying to defend you? That doesn’t add up.”

Hm. That’s true. She did punch Liam to get him to leave me alone, I’m sure she didn’t expect him to attack me, but, why? Why leave me behind?

Dad yawns and continues, “Anyway, in that fight you mentioned something...those punches you served to the friend! Show me what you got champ!”

I laugh and punch the air with a pathetic attempt at a punch, dad leans back and dramatically falls off the bed, “Geez! Are you training with Ms. Mike Tyson up there?!” We both laugh loudly as he gets off the floor and dusts himself off.

He holds onto my shoulder and says with a warm smile, “We love you, don’t forget that! Also, remember what I said about that girl, there’s always two sides of the story.”

I nod rapidly and he places a kiss on my forehead. I use to hate those kisses they gave me, it made me feel like a child, but love doesn’t age. After saying night, I settle for bed...and morning chores. Sigh.

Happy Valentine’s Day to me.

_________________________________________

SNAP.

My eyes open automatically.

Rrrrrrr....

What. In. The. World.

From the end of my bed the moonlight that hits my cover is not in their scattered positions. The light is completely intact...even though the window has a “t” frame in the middle of it. My window is open.

I lean up and stare straight ahead at the window, well I was right, the window is up and a small hand is entering the window.

I freeze.

All I was able to do was watch the figure enter and trip on the frame of the window, hitting the hard wood floor in my room.

I finally hop out of the bed and run to the figure. Before the figure could get up or say something, I punch them square on the face. I repeatedly hit the figure while they huff and cover their face.

“Wrong house, you scum!”

“ACH. GEEZ, I TRY TO HELP YOU OUT AND THIS IS HOW I AM REPAID?!?!”

My fist freeze in the air, the figure kicks me in the stomach, I hit the end of my bedframe. The figure dashes to my lamp on one of my bed stands, like that I see the person clearly.

I turn around fully to look at her, the girl that got me in trouble.

“Wat-what-WHAT IN THE WORLD!?! I-I-WHY AND HOW?!?! I-?!?”

She sighs and rubs her arms, unbothered.

“You suck at greeting friends! Is that really how you treat friends?”

My eyebrows connect, my fist are balled up, “Friends? Friends?! Friends don’t leave their friends to make a run for it!”

“Sorry?...”

“SORRY?! THAT’S IT?! SERIOUSLY?!”

I back her up onto my bed stand, my lamp is tipping over.

“BECAUSE OF YOU WE CAN’T GO TO SCHOOL FOR A WEEK, THAT’S A LOT OF WORK TO MAKE UP. THEN I HAVE HOMECHORES. THOUGH, WHAT REALLY PUSHED ME TO THIS ATTITUDE WAS YOUR RESPONSE TO BEING IN TROUBLE, YOU RAN. THEN, YOU POP UP IN MY HOUSE TO SAY SORRY?! REALLY?!”

She stares at me, “Yes.”

I grab onto her hand and walk her to the window, turning to her, “Get out. All you did was cause trouble. I don’t want to be friends with you. But before you leave, tell me why.”

She closes her eyes and drops her head, “I’m sorry.”

I roll my eyes, “Ugh, get out-”

She continues, “I have caused trouble today, but if you believe I regret what I did, you’ll be mistakened. I did my duty as a friend. I didn’t want you to get in trouble, it was all games at first, I didn’t expect this.”

My grip on her hand gets weaker.

She raises her head to look me in the eyes, “I don’t have parents. That’s why I ran.”

I let go of her and stare wide-eyed at her. She blankly stares and continues, “You know what happens to parentless kids?”

I nod, “Orphanage.”

She nods.

There is silence for a couple of minutes, she walks to my bed, and pulls snacks out of her uniform pants and place them on the bed.

“I ran around the school to get them off my trace. When they lost me they placed a missing child report, while I was hiding in the bushes in front of the school, I waited to see if you were a bus rider or car rider. Luckily, your parents picked you up earlier than the dismissal bell. I followed your car by using the crosswalks and sidewalks. When I was near your neighborhood I lost your car, so I stopped by the store and got snacks. I visited every door and peeped in each house to find yours. I was placed in school without parents by using my parents names for my school files, even though they left me years ago, with fake IDs and signatures I was placed in a school.”

. . .

Lost of words...my dad wasn’t kidding when he said ‘there’s always two sides to a story’. Since I was focused on my emotions so much I didn’t notice her clothing. It was the same clothing I seen her with at gym, Liam’s blood still rest on her shirt. Her slippers are tearing up, must be from all of the running she did. Her pegtails are slanting, her shirt and school pants are dusty and covered in dirt. Her face was all most grey from the dirt, the cuts are uncovered and filled with dirt.

Well, now I feel bad. Even with me hitting and yelling at her, she still got me some snacks to make up for her mistake, something she can’t even afford...

“Toga.”

I say, “Uh?...”

“My name is Toga. I hope you like chocolate, it’s the least I could do.”

“...thank you.”

I walk to my clothing drawer and grab a pair of nightclothes, Toga sits on my bed and watches me.

“Toga, go to my bathroom and change, my parents are sleeping upstairs, you should be fine. The bathroom is across my room.”

She raises one eyebrow, “...When you get out of the bathroom, get the medkit from under the sink and give it to me. I’ll clean your face and cuts.”

She smiles slightly and take the clothes to change, “Don’t eat all of the snacks! I’m hungry too you know.”

A sad smile appears on my face, I shouldn’t do this. I’m already in trouble, what am I doing?...I walk to the window and close it, something shines from the light of my lamp, looking down below the window I seen the pocket knife. Picking it up I place it near my lamp.

My bedroom door opens again, Toga is wearing a matching checked night set, they are pink. She places her slippers in my closet, “Place your clothes in my laundry basket, I’ll sneak them in the washing machine in a moment. Your shorts are in my clean clothes, near the morning I’ll place your school clothes and gym clothes together under my bed. Since your school shirt was left in the locker room I’ll give you one of my school shirts. Uh, sit on the bed with the medkit, I’m gonna sneak to the laundry room.”

She still carries her dirty clothes, “No. I’ll go with you. Aren’t friends suppose to stick together?” Before I can object, she slips the medkit out of her arms and place it on the bed. She looks back at me, waiting. I sigh and nod. Friends.

The laundry room is upstairs...we creep upstairs. Luckily, my parent’s door is shut, we quickly grab the powder and put the clothes in the machine. In case my parents check the machine, I blend the only dirty clothes on the floor with hers. She walks around the house a little bit as I stuff the clothes in the machine. The clean clothes are searched through to find the pink shorts, lets hope mom doesn’t notice. I walk out of the room and guide her back to my room.

“I like your house, it’s fancy!”

I wouldn’t call it fancy, the wallpaper is aged, the toilet system is trash, the washing machine leaks water from the back...but now I feel like a princess compared to Toga.

“Uh, yeah...kinda. Anyway, lets clean those cuts.”

She nods, we sit on the bed after I lock my bedroom door. Her cuts seems to come from tree branches and when she was thrown onto the ground, my hands ball up for a moment at that memory. I use my basic knowledge in caring for cuts, alcohol, cotton balls, and bandaids.

Toga held onto my hand as I applied the alcohol to each small cut, I couldn’t help but smile at her “Ack! Ow! Slow down!!”. It’s just funny to see a girl who almost stabbed someone to death cry over small cuts. She pouts, “You laughing at me?!”

My smile widens, “Well, hehe, it’s funny to see the badass in gym class cry over simple taps with alcohol.”

She smiles widely, “It stings, but don’t be fooled! I’ll still stab someone for you.”

I add on, “Again.”

She rolls her eyes, “Tch, that was barely a cut! I didn’t stab him! My knife just happened to dig deeper into his cheek when I grazed him! Not my fault.”

She shrugs with a smile, a small smirk is on my face.

We fall in comfortable silence. Though, her loud smacking on a chocolate bar fills the silence a bit.

I cover her in cute bandages after proper care, designs of kittens, flowers, hearts, and short self care quotes are all over her face and arms. I pack up the materials and place them back in the bathroom. When I came back, Toga sets three candy wrappers on the bed stand near her.

She spots me, “The rest is yours, I’m full. Do you have some water?”

I raise one of my eyebrows, she only ate three candy bars, how is she full? Plus, there’s one problem with that considerate action, there’s 25 candy bars left! How and why would I eat all of that chocolate?? I sigh and push the candy bars back to her. She stares at me with her eyebrows up.

“Do you not like chocolate?”

“I don’t like chocolate comas, this is too much! Take half, you deserve it, also, how did you get away with half of the store in your pants??”

Her shoulders goes up and down, she says, “What do you think the knife is for?”

My eyes widen, “You...what did you do?”

My body tenses up as she stares at me, “I robbed the store.”

There’s no emotion into that sentence...I mean those corner store workers have families too! That’s not right!

She gets up and explores my room, stopping by my dresser with a wooden chair near it. The dresser has a star shaped mirror, pallets of makeup, lipglosses, collections of rocks, and a music box.

I was barely able to close my mouth...but why? It wasn’t necessary for her survival...how does she survive without parents?

“...Why? But, why Toga? You...you could have harmed someone for something so small! You did that for candy? Why?!”

Her hands are admiring my music box, the box has two kids that twirl when the handle is twisted. It’s wooden, except the kids, they are made from clay. One of the kids wear a dress with black slippers, the other has overalls with shorts. They twirl together. She pays me no mind.

I huff and walk over to her, grabbing the box out of hands, I set it back on the dresser. She follows the music box’s placement with her eyes. My hands trembles as I reach for her cheeks. The stare is back. My eyebrows creases, I push her cheeks together lightly and force her to focus on me completely.

“Toga, why.”

Her eyes closes. I sigh while relasing her face, I walk towards the bed and sit while rubbing my forehead.

There’s silence for a while. Then, a voice asks something, “How do you work this thing?” I look up to see the music box in her hands, I respond by a tense stare. She gives me a small smile and turns to face the dresser, “That’s fine. I tend to figure things out by myself a lot. Play-sesame!” A chuckle escapes her. I watch her tinker with the box for a couple of minutes. I sigh and say, “You twist the handle, not pull or push.” She turns a bit with a smile, “Thank you!”

The room is filled with the soft melody and voice.

Though, all I can hear is “ouu!” and “cool!”.

Then, her hips starts to shimmer. We stare at each other, one of my eyebrows are up, with a frown. Her mouth tries to follow the lyrics, but fails. Her feet starts to move to the side while going foward towards me. The rhythm is not with her, but she still twist and twirls around the bed. Then I feel a hand lands on mines, grabbing it and dragging me to the middle of my room. Her hands takes both of mines and we ‘tango’. She kept stepping on my toes, in responds she got scolds from me. They all fell on deaf ears. The room looked like it was spinning and warping as we spun a couple of times.

“Toga, let my hands go! I’m tired and dizzy, plus, you still didn’t answer my question!”

“I like that melody, is that your voice?”

“Toga-”

“She sounds really pretty.”

“TOGA-”

“Ou, I knew it! Only pretty people can recognize other pretty people!”

Why is my cheeks burning? Did she...NOPE. SHE’S TRYING TO DISTRACT ME. I’m not falling for that! I want answers!

“TOGA-”

“You’re so cute-”

“SHUT UP-”

“AH! You look like a pretty tomato!-”

She dips me, I almost fall out of her grip until she settles her arms around my waist. HOW?! I’m like twice this girl’s size!

“The prettiest I have ever seen!”

“Ugh!-”

“How did you fit such a pretty voice into that box??”

“UGH. THAT ISN’T ME. THAT’S THE VOICE OF A OLD FRIEND!”

When I look at her face, a sick smile is forming on her face.

Oh. No. She. Didn’t.

She tricked me to get information!

“I bet she’s not as pretty as you though.” Her smile causes her eyes to squint. My eyes narrows as my face feels like the sun is near it!

Before I can demand for her to answer my question and stop dancing, the grip on my waist gets tighter as my body is swung out of the room. She uses one of her hands to unlock and open the bedroom door from behind her.

“WHAT THE-”

We guide across the wooden floor in the hallway, though the music has been stopped our feet still remembered the soft melody.

My voice is lowed as I chastise her, “Toga.”

Her body keeps on dragging me out of the hallway, she stare at me with a smile. She grabs onto my hands and pushes away from me to come back and spin me.

“You need to-”

We are approaching the kitchen, my arms starts to ache, but I continue whispering.

“Ugh, I swear if you don’t let go I’ll-”

Her hands are now gripping my hands harder,

“T. O. G. A. LET GO OF MY-”

One of her index fingers touches my lips, a small “Shh.” comes out of her mouth. When my lips opens slightly,

“ACK-”

I am spun away from her, hitting one of the counters with my hips!

As I am rubbing one side of my hips, in my peripheral vision I see a light coming from something. Though, there is a shadow in the light. Turning my head a bit, the light was coming from the refrigerator, I see that blond hair...yup I made my decision, I am not having children in the future. Demon spawns.

A small “ahhhhh.” comes from her, I struggle to get near her, but before I could reach for her she turns around with a red liquid dipping from her mouth. I look down to her hands to see that nasty carton of tomato juice in her hands. This girl is drinking from the carton!

“WHat thE?!?! Put that down! Where’s the cap?!”

She shrugs her shoulders and burps. I wave a hand in front of my face and reach for her ear.

“Ow! I was thirsty!...You want some??”

I take the carton of tomato juice out of her hands and yank her ear.

“NO. I DON’T WANT SOME. BUT I’M GONNA GET SOMETHING IF YOU DON’T GET BACK IN MY ROOM! I’m already in trouble! Did you forget that!?!”

The sound of footsteps stops our movement...

We look at each other and dash to my bedroom!

I close the door quickly but quietly, then I push Toga into my closet, she nods and squish between my hanged clothes and shoe boxes in the corner. Closing the closet door I dash to my bed stand and push the knife under my bed.

I grab for a book that was in my dresser, and lay on the bed. Now, the waiting game has begun. There’s still the sounds of creaks from the footsteps...

The room is completely silent, my breathing starts to get caught in my throat when that sound gets louder, the footsteps speed up.

My eyes close, I make sure the book is on my face, I keep on my lamp light to create the “oh I fell asleep reading” image.

The footsteps aren’t there anymore...I exhale, Toga peeks out the door when two minutes pass.

I give her the thumbs up and put my book on the bed stand near me.

To be sure we stayed quiet for a couple more minutes.

The coast is clear.

I sigh, Toga flops onto my bed, she lays on her stomach and stares at the door.

“Darn it Toga! We could have got caught!! If you wanted something to drink we could have walked to the kitchen!!! Now, one of my parents can be up right now!...Wait, did we close the refrigerator?...Isn’t the carton still out??”

She scratches her head and swings her feet. “I don’t remember. Anyway, I’m bored, what can we-”

“Anyway? Anyway?? We almost got in trouble! And you’re worried about fun?? What????-”

Words starts to fuse together as I rant to her, she listens and watches me. A few “mhm” and “I understand” comes from her. When I am done, I flop onto my pillow and close my eyes.

I feel weight on my legs, looking down, Toga is laying across me with my music box in her hands.

“...when did you get the music box?”

She looks from the box and smiles at me, “Minutes ago, I thought you were asleep already! I was getting bored...”

There’s silence

“What the heck is on your face???”

I lift myself up and take her face into my hands. There’s black streaks near her eyes, some of the lines look smudged. Something shines on her face, on her cheeks, forehead, chin, and nose...I look over to my dresser.

“Seriously?!”

My lipgross is shining against the surface, and my eyeliner is mixing with the lipgloss. The eyeshadow was untouched.

I feel her cheeks go up, looking down at her, she gives me a toothy smile.

“I wanted to look pretty, like you!”

Why?? Why does she keep on complimenting me??

“It’s back! That red shade! Why can’t you take the truth? You’re cute!”

“Ugh...lets go to my bathroom to get that off your face. Why did you put LIPgloss on your face anyway??”

“Oh...that’s what that was?? I thought it was a face shining thing. I like the shininess!”

“That’s highlighter!”

“Ohhhh...wait what?? Why would you put a highlighter on your face??”

Her eyebrows are up and she is scratching the side of her head. How does she not know what makeup is? She looks pretty girly to me.

I sigh and hold onto her wrist, we walk to the bedroom door.

Tap.

I stop and look back at Toga. She shrugs.

Tap. Tap.

The sound seems to come from the door...we stop and stare at the door.

Tap-tap-tap!

The door moves against the frame like someone is knocking on the door!

We give the final stares and go into positions. Toga dashes into the closet, I look around the room and put my stuff back where they were. The messed up makeup was stuffed into the dresser, the lipgloss codes my hands, I wince while wiping my hands on my pajama pants.

I speed walk to the door. Exhaling, my hands reach for the door knob. ‘ACT NORMAL. ACT NORMAL.’

...

The door is swung open. There’s no one here.

...

When I was about to close the door, something seems to push it away.

I looking down, I see a black silky looking coat on a mini-paw? Their eyes are glossy and wide, a nice shade of green in their eyes dances in the moonlight, I stare at the shape of a white moustache...Raymond! Thank goodness.

His smirking lips opens, “Meow?”

“MEOW?!” The sound of the closet door opening shakes the wall near it, the girl stumbles before reaching the bedroom door, she pushes me away from Raymond. I spin myself before hitting the wall near me, I reach my bed and stare at the back of her head while squinting my eyes.

“A cat?! Hello!- Oh- Uh- I meant, meow! What’s your name? Meow?”

“Meow!”

She gasps, “That’s a pretty name! Mine is Toga!”

I can see her hand reach for him, her arm shakes slightly. I move to the side to see what was happening, his black paw is encased in her small hands, they shake...hands?

She looks back at me with a wide smile, “You didn’t tell me you had a cat!”

My eyes roll, “Maybe because I have been through hel- stuff this whole night.”

“Ouu! Look she almost cursed! That’s unlady-like! Right?” She looks back at Raymond, I swear I seen his head go up and down slightly.

She moves out of his way as he walks in the room with a sway in his hips. His tail is up and swings, his head is up, and his eyes are closed. Sigh. Now I have two divas in the room.

He jumps on my bed and licks his paw while Toga runs around him, she spills words of praise to him. He would occasionally look at her, then turn his head with his eyes semi-closed and continue with his bathing session.

Her movement stops completely, I raise my eyebrow at her after locking the door.

“I just thought about something...we have three people in this room. Makeup. And snacks...you what that means?”

I am afraid to answer. Who knows what she has under her sleeves. I walk to the bed and sit by Raymond.

“SLEEPOVER! This is my first sleepover! Ouuu, what should we do!? I say makeovers and munching on snacks! Oh! How about-”

“How about we SLEEP. It’s too late for all of this! And keep your voice down!”

Plus, I wouldn’t call this a sleepover, more like ‘trying to keep a person from dying on the streets’-over.

She sends me a pout, her attention is on Raymond now, “Well, what do YOU say? Party! or Sleep?” She rolls her eyes at the last word, Raymond is now staring at her.

I huff, “Darn it Toga, it’s the middle of the morning! We don’t have much to do anyway.”

Her attention is now on me and Raymond follows her stare. They both stare at me with blank stares.

“Oh, come on Raymond, you know we should go to sleep, don’t stare at me like that.”

He stands up completely and stretches, I watch him walk over to Toga, Toga beams at the back of Raymond’s head.

My eyes are blown out of proportions, no, he, didn’t! He knows what he is doing! Encouraging her behavior, t-ha, ‘cats are nice’ they say. I shake my head while saying, “...Traitor.”

He stares at me, he looks like he is smirking. I roll my eyes while rubbing my forehead.

She is basically jumping on my walls at this point...I just want to go to sleep.

His continues to taunt me...I should have got a dog.

Toga chants, “Sleepover! Sleepooooovvvvver!!”

A chain of “mew” and “meow meeeow” follows her chants.

Raymond and Toga runs around the room, “Sleep-”, She double points at Raymond, “Meow!”

The room is now surrounded with the phrases,

“Sleep-meow!”

“Meow-sleep!- wait-”

Raymond looks back at her while she jumps around with him, his brows goes down, he shakes his head at her.

“Ugh! I messed it up again! Start over!”

“NO. DEAR THE HEAVENS, NO.”

They look at me with one eyebrow raised, “Just!...Sit down! Please! I can feel my nerves trying to escape from my ears! I’ll...I’ll think of something! Just give me time, please!”

They settle down a little bit, the bed bounces me up as they tumble onto the bed. All I can feel is my forehead heating up and my eyes drooping. What time is it anyway? It has to be 3:00, because if the heavens took my asks, they would be knocked out by now.

As I look behind me, I see Raymond laying on Toga’s stomach...He never did that to me! A pout appears on my face. Toga looks at me with one eyebrow raised, “Well, what did you think of?”

Sleep.

I sigh and search around the room. My eyes stops on the music box, then I shake my head. That music box puts me to sleep, but doesn’t do that for Toga, who knows if she has another dance routine in mind? What else puts me to sleep, but isn’t something that blows my mission. Mission: ‘put the damn demon asleep!’. I can see a light bulb flash above my head! THE MIGHTY HAIRBRUSH.

I rush to the dresser, my hands avoids the lipgloss, I grip onto the handle of the hairbrush, then look back at them as they watched me.

“Hairbrush? Really? What are we gonna do with that??”

“Well...”

Come on! Think of a GOOD reason! My eyes falls onto her messy hair. Ah. Right, I forgot to put her hair up...

“-you did mention makeovers, so, you’re first! Maybe we could...”

DON’T SAY IT! DON’T-

“-put color in your hair?”

DARN IT.

She pops up and nods quickly. A small shriek escapes her, Raymond hops off her and spins in circles, they both cheer...my ears feels like it’s gonna fall off.

“OK. OK...sit on the bed. I’ll get the materials...”

Sigh. Why did I set myself for failure. I know this is gonna go wrong. The girl seems to cause trouble in every environment.

A mini tray is in my hands as I walk into the bedroom. It’s blue with stars that I painted on when I was seven-years old. They are white and gold. Toga waits with her legs swinging and Raymond sitting in her lap. I walk over to her and set the materials on the bed stand near me. She hums while I comb and study her hair. Her hair seems to be gray from leftover dirt and dust. Everytime I wiggled strands of hair, the dust would almost choke me to death.

“Eh. You wash your hair right?”

She looks up at me and nods.

“Yup, with water.”

I raise my eyebrow, “Just water??”

She nods slowly, “Isn’t that the right way of doing it??”

Me and Raymond look at each other. I sigh and leave the room again. This time a bottle of shampoo, bucket, and washrag was in my hands. She reaches for the shampoo and examines it.

“Shampoo?...Oh! So, that was what I was missing?! It smells good!”

I nod and gently pops the rubber bands from her pegtails. These rubber bands are for art supplies, so they yank some of her hair. She flinches and looks up at me. I mumble an apology.

There is silence for a couple of minutes. When I am done with the rubber bands, the bucket is placed in her lap, Raymond hops off her and watches me while sitting near her. I push her down while applying the shampoo and washing it out by the water in the rag. She kept raising her head and waving her hands, I sigh and force her head back down.

“ACK! It’s in my eyes!!”

“Maybe if you kept your eyes closed it wouldn’t be in them! Stop moving!”

Raymond would lick her arms to calm her down, it kind of worked. Though, water stained my carpet as she knocked over the bucket a couple of times while squirming.

When that was done, she narrowed her eyes at me.

I roll my eyes, “Oh stop it, it wasn’t that bad. Plus, I would have done this in the shower, if one of my parents weren’t possibly up right now! Take this as a lesson.”

A pair of eyes glares at me as I walk out the room to clean and put materials back. Before leaving the bathroom, I grabbed one unused towel and one dirty towel.

When I walk back into the room, Toga was whipping strands of her hair gently into Raymond, he was jumping at her hair and paw-ing her hair. A small smile was on her face. I walked over to them and adjusted her head to look up at me. She releases her hair while I dried her hair with gentle circular motions with the clean towel. The dirty towel was placed under our feet. Lets hope mom doesn’t pop into my room in the morning to see this towel and Toga...

She smelled strands of her hair, “What is this smell?”

I respond while reaching for the hairbrush, “Cinnamon. You ever had any snacks with cinnamon in it? Like Cinnamon Toast Crunch?”

“That’s cereal right?”

A ‘mhm’ leaves my lips as I brush the back of her head. She nods slowly, “When I was younger, yeah.”

I twist the hairbrush a little bit when it reached the ends of her hair, “Hm. How old are you?”

She looks up at me with her eyebrows raised, “Uhhh, 13...”

The hairbrush stops, “You sure?”

She nods slowly.

The room is now silent.

Raymond sits in her lap as she scratches his head gently. My hands continues to slowly guides the hairbrush. The room starts to disappear, my thoughts are getting loud.

Does she celebrate birthdays? How?

...Does she eat cake? How and where does she get the cake?

How does she continue to live without proper care? Stealing can only get you far...

Did she ever get caught stealing before? What happened if she did?

...What is it like to be...abandoned.

A small hand is on my wrist that carried the hairbrush. The room starts to reappear, Raymond and Toga looks up at me with one eyebrow up.

“Why did you stop? That felt good! Please brush here again.”

Her hand guides me to the center of her head, the hairbrush brushes through the hair in circular motions.

“Sorry.”

I continue the motion without her assistance.

She breaks the silence again, “Are you okay?”

One of my eyebrows are raised as I glance at her. I respond with a nod.

Raymond hisses with no true malicious reason behind it. He usually did that to show disapproval in what I said or did.

I break eye contact with Raymond and distract myself with styling her hair.

Toga looks down at Raymond with a wince, “What’s wrong buddy? You okay??”

He nods slightly and licks her cheek. After that his stare starts to make a hole on the side of my head. I shallow my spit and continue ignoring him.

That same small hand stops me. The hairbrush is pulled out of my hand and placed on the bed stand. I look at them with one eyebrow raised. They return a look at me. Raymond shakes his head at me while Toga looks between the both of us.

“Are YOU sure?”

“Yes. Now, what style do you want? Ponytail? Buns?”

“Braids!”

“Oh. Ok, what kind?”

“Any??”

“...Ok.”

Since her hair was silky and extremely straight, I got through two medium-sized braids that was placed on one side of her head. Now, two more on the other side would complete the look. Then, hopefully she’ll forget about the coloring hair idea. Seriously. Why would I propose that??

Raymond still stares at me, but now he laying down on his paws, he looks like a loaf of bread...with thick angry eyebrows. Sigh. Sometimes I wish he couldn’t read my mind.

I sigh and open my mouth slightly, but another voice beats me to talking.

“What are your birthdays like?”

My hands stop mid-braiding, her eyes are back on me as she waits for my response, “...kinda, um, hm. I can’t describe it.”

“How come?”

I shrug and stare at her hair instead of her.

“Do you like your birthdays?”

Raymond hops out of her lap. He struts to me and rubs his head against my thigh.

A small sigh ecsapes my lips. Kinda. Just kinda. My family is supportive of me, but sometimes...all I want is a friend near me as well. No matter how much I wish for one it doesn’t come true.

I feel my chest getting heavy, my hands starts to shake, and my vision is getting blurry.

All I can whisper is, “Kinda.”

She glances at my eyes for a bit. Before I knew it her arms are around my stomach, firmly. The messy makeup is smuging as she moves her face against my shirt.

“Tell me what’s wrong, please.”

I breathe in and out before speaking, “Just...my birthdays are fine. I have family behind me during those days...not every child has the opportunity to experience that.”

My eyes fall on her as she stare up at me.

I continue as my voice cracks a bit, “So, I shouldn’t complain. My life could be worst.”

There is silence for a bit.

That high-pitched voice responds, “That’s stupid.”

I jump a bit with one eyebrow raised.

She shakes her head with a straight face, “That’s the stupidest thing I have ever heard!”

A small smile appears on her face, “And that’s a lot coming from me!”

The smile dims down a bit as she continues, “I don’t need you to pity me. Also, don’t compare my situation to yours! That’s not fair. We all have problems! What good does it do to ignore yours?”

A sound comes from Raymond as he nods and stares at the two of us, “Meow!”

The hug around me gets tighter, Raymond joins by attempting to use his tail.

One last thing comes from her, “We are human you know. It’s ok to cry!”

My lips forms a curved downwards line.

My vision is even more cloudy.

My lips quiver, I manage to whisper, “Thank you...”

She releases me to stand in front of me and give me a proper hug. It’s loose...and extremely warm. My arms dangle beside me, Raymond licks the hand near him.

After I blinked, I was sitting on the bed with Toga beside me with the hairbrush.

She gently pulled strands of hair out of my bun and brushed the strands.

I sniff out a sentence, “What are you doi-ng?”

She smiles a bit, “Hm, you sound funny!”

“Shut up.” A smile starts to form on my face. Raymond jumps into my lap. I brush his cheeks with my nails.

She responds with her eyes squinted and a small pout, as she focuses on the strand of hair that fights back against the brushing. I can’t help but chuckle softly. “Sooo...are you going to tell me the truth? What’s wrong?”

I look down at Raymond as he looks at me with a small ‘smile’.

...No. This is all I needed, for today. A good cry.

Thank you, my special stalker.

I shake my head. Raymond nods slightly and closes his eyes while taking in the rubs.

“But, I do have to tell you something else...”

She raises her eyebrows and leans a bit closer to me, “Well, come on, tell me!”

A smirk is on my face, “You smell like tomato juice. I hate tomato juice.”

She gasp and leans back. The hairbrush is against her chest and her other hand in against her forehead. Raymond ‘snorts’ and I giggle, genuinely.

A small hand pushes my shoulder softly, “Meanie! Plus, tomato juice is good!”

My eyes roll playfully, “How? It taste like dirt.”

She smirks, “How do you know what dirt taste like?!”

My smirk gets wider, “Maybe because my head was practically in the dirt yesterday.”

Her smile drops as she rubs her neck, “Ohhh...right...”

I reach her shoulder and giggle, “Seriously...what we did was stupid, but, I don’t put that all on you. WE kicked some ass back there!”

She giggled and teased me, “Ohhh! Look at that! The goody-two-shoes cursed!”

Her finger flicks my nose a couple of times, Raymond lays on the bed and watches us poke and taunt each other. We both end up on the bed, panting softly. Raymond lays in between the both of us, his tail kept hitting Toga’s face.

My smile slowly fades as my serious tone comes back, “Ok, ok. Back on the subject. Toga, I have had a friend before, but, they had to leave. It’s been years without them. So...I’m not use to...this. You know. Someone that isn’t apart of my family, willing to listen to me. It’s new...just give me time. One day I’ll be able to tell you everything, just not now...it’s hard to find people like you.”

She stares at me and nods.

We both stare at the ceiling for a moment. Until, Toga sits up and stares at the mini-tray filled with coloring materials. She looks back at me with a smile. I roll my eyes and smirk, “I was hoping you would forget about that.”

She shakes her head and pouts, poorly hiding a smile.

I sigh and sit up with her. We go through each color. Blue was something that reflected well on my hair, but not for Toga. We looked like clowns, with colorful streaks in our hair. She kept pulling strands out of my bun to put new colors into my hair, I used the un-done strands of hair for her. Raymond would occasionally push off the colored ‘crayons’ onto the floor. The carpet was almost representing the LGBT+ flag.

There is comfortable silence. Until a question popped into my mind.

“Toga, why do you like tomato juice? It’s disgusting.”

She continues to put purple streaks into my hair, “It reminds me of blood...I know, weird.”

I shrug, “Not really. Blood is cool, it keeps us living.”

Plus I can’t judge. I play and talk to rocks...not the average thing a kid my age does.

She sighs a bit, “...yeah.”

I hold onto her shoulder softly and stare into her eyes, “Look, we all have weird interest! I like talking to my rocks. I even give them names.”

She smiles slightly, “Weirdo.”

I smirk, “Hush!”

Her smile gets wider before I continue talking, “When I’m around rocks I get a strange feeling. Like someone is hugging me, it’s a fuzzy feeling. Rocks don’t judge you, you know. So, maybe you have a special connection to blood. There’s so many jobs out there for people like you! Think about so many lives being saved from your interest! You can do good things with that connection.”

She looks down at her feet with a small smile, I grip a little harder.

“You would be the best doctor! Scientist? Blood donor? Organ donor? The possiblities is nearly endless. Plus, you would look pretty cool in a lab coat! Just don’t kill me if I appear in your hospital.”

Her teeth are showing, she pulls me into a tight hug. She whispers, “Maybe. Thank you. I haven’t heard that before...”

I return the tight squeeze. When we release each other, her hands hold onto the red crayon. Her fingertips are covered in red marks. I raise one eyebrow as she grabs onto leftover strands of her hair and my hair. She attempts to braid them together, it’s sloppy work so I help her.

Once our hair was entwined together, she drowns each strand with red. I watch her as she concentrates on each strand. Raymond squeezes between us and play with the ends of our hair. His claws would occasionally get struck, ending up with us squawking and hissing.

The deed was done, but I still had one eyebrow raised.

Our heads are almost together, she looks at me with a smile, “To friendship!”

Her feet gently stumps against the carpet and towel. Her hands are balled into fist, it hits her knees everytime her feet hits the carpet. She stares at me with big eyes and a wide smile, continuing to chant, “Tooooo friendssship!”

I can feel my feet starting to copy her stumping. Her hands started to clap lightly and a small sway is followed behind each clap. My eyebrows go up as my body starts to copy her movements. Raymond joined in by creating circles on the bed and joining in her chants. He would jump sometimes and hit my cheek with his paws, the nails were hidden of course.

She smiled at Raymond as they continue to chant, but I didn’t join in, I watched them have fun. Toga looked at me with raised eyebrows, “Well, what ‘cha doing? Join us! This is a chant for friendship!” I nod with a small smile, “I know, it’s...nice. But. Just. Hm...” My movement stops. Since Toga was still moving, I could feel strands of my hair being pulled. I wince. Raymond sits by me and rubbed his head against my arm. Toga stopped moving and stared at me. Her smile fades.

“Sorry! Got a bit too happy.”

“I can tell. ” I rub the spot that was pulled. She rubs the same spot.

“So....now that we are friennnndddsss, we should really make it official! Like-”

A yawn escapes her lips, she covers it. A little smile is on my face. Sigh. Finally.

I smirk while patting her head, “-like going to sleep! Seriously, I’m certain it’s 5:00 now, we should set up for bed. Not set up more activites.”

She pours and tries to look away from me, but our hair pulls me with her, “I’m not tired yet! Raymonds not tired either! Look!”

We look down in between us to find a yawning cat. He looks up at us and shakes his head at Toga. After that he settled in between us and closed his eyes while shaped like loaf. She sighs and raises her hand in defeat, “Fine! Fine!...I’m tired.”

I respond with a ‘mhm’. She rolls her eyes and stretches her limbs. I stop her from trying to lay down, “Let me take that off your face first, I don’t want you breaking out.”

“Ohhh, right, I forgot I had this MASTERPIECE on my face.”

I smile widely, “Mm, last time I checked, dollar tree styles don’t make it on the red carpet.”

She gasps while I giggle, “Ok, ok, stay right here for a minute. I’ll get makeup remover.”

She pouts and crosses her arms. Right when I get up, she gets up as well. I raise one eyebrow at her. She looks at the hair between us. Oh...right.

“Forgot about that. Help me unbraid this.”

She nods and we get to work.

But, one minute turned into five.

Then ten...

We stop and rub our hands. The pain in my hands starts to affect my fingertips. They are extremely soft and wrinly. She sighs and looks at me, “Uh. We aren’t making any progress.”

I sigh, “I can see that...”

She puts her hands on her hips, “Well, what’s the plan now??”

I yawn and shrug, “Honestly...I don’t know. I’m tired as well. Though, I do know something, we aren’t going to the bathroom now. We can’t risk you getting caught, especially with all the noise we’ve been making.”

She nods slowly, “Maybe you have something in the room??”

I shake my head, “I don’t believe I do, at least not for removing makeup or untangling hair.”

She sighs and yawns, “Well....can we sleep now?? I’m sleeeppppyyyy.”

My hand rubs my eyes, my legs are starting to give out, “How are we going to sleep? Our hair is tangled and your makeup will rub onto my pillow cases!”

She shrugs and walks to the bed. I pull back.

“Toga...we need to find a solution.”

Her eyes roll, “Not now please! We’ll find something to do in the morning...”

“But my parents-”

“Pleeeassssseeee?!?!”

My eyes shut, my arms are getting lower as the seconds pass, and my legs gave up when she collasped onto the bed. Raymond moves slowly to the end of the bed and rest. Our faces are in the bed. We drag ourselves onto the bed completely, she places her head onto my pillow. I take the pillow near her. We face each other. Our hair is begging for us to get closer. She sighs and clings onto me. Her arms hug me, it’s warm, but I feel a little too warm. Her breathing is slowing down, but my eyes keeps staring at that messed up face on my pillowcase. Sigh. My parents are definitely gonna kill me.

I watch her mouth out, “...I thought of something...I never asked for your name. What is it??”

Her eyes are still closed, but I still stare there, “...call me Syria.”

Her lips goes up, “Pretty name...for a pretty person!”

I roll my eyes while she smiles widely.

There’s silence for a couple of minutes.

My eyes are closed, but I see complete darkness, even when the lamp is on. The room is filled with quiet breathing. Her hold on me gets tighter, but it isn’t the worst feeling. It feels like a bear hug. My body is going numb.

My thoughts are getting quieter.

Before I can fade into complete slumber, I hear a whisper.

“Syria?”

I feel a finger poke my cheek, but my mouth is completely shut.

“...I have something to say. Even if you’re asleep right now.”

I still can’t respond, but I listen.

“Everyday is the same routine. I steal snacks for my dinner and breakfast. Taking clothes from stores as well. Do I use the knife? Yes. Why? I don’t have a choice. I have to provide for myself...”

My ears peck up a bit, as she exhales.

“...I’m not sure about my future. My school grades are bad. I have no parents. What is there for me? Nothing. But, it’s nice to not be alone.”

I hear a smile as she continues.

“I cause a lot of trouble for people...I don’t blame them for leaving. But, I came to the conclusion that I don’t care for them. I hate them.”

Her smile seems to get wider as some words slur.

“...but, because of their failure to take care of me, I met you...therefore I ask you for one more thing, don’t leave, please. Today was nice, even if this ends in the morning, you will always be someone I care for. A friend. A friend that deserve more than snacks. One day I’ll be able to steal something more valuable for you. You asked why earlier. The answer is simple, for you. Even if me using a knife to get snacks seems dumb to you, I’ll keep doing, if it was for you.”

I can feel her poking my face gently. My mouth seems to loosen up, before she could continue talking I whisper.

“...Toga. You don’t have to continue stealing and possibly harming someone in the future. A little hope can go a long way...you, no, WE, can improve as people. Just have a little hope...”

Her voice gets strained.

“...together?”

I can feel her pinky hooking onto mine’s.

“...I’m sure I don’t really have a choice now.”

A small giggle is heard.

“At least you know.”

I sigh and smile. My pinky squeezes her’s back.

The final thing that comes from the room is one more sentence.

“Thank you for being a friend.”

A smile seems to be printed onto my face. My consciousness is slipping.

But, one more thought is presented into my mind.

‘Hm...who knew? Dreams could come true...’

The room is gone and my dream state is on.

* - * - *

My body is loose. My eyes squint while the sunlight hits my face. While grunting, I stretch my limbs. When my feet hits the end of the bedboard I look down at my feet. Empty.

I look to the side of me. Empty. My body shiver as we slept on top of the covers instead. I fight my shivers and sit up. My feet hits the wet towel, beside the colorful carpet. I sigh and reposition the towel to cover that area. I look to the bed stand that still had the mini-tray on it.

I stand up and creep to the door, it was kinda open...

I look out of the door, the hallway is clear and quiet. I walk into the hallway and lean onto the wall that allowed people to enter the living room/kitchen. The smell of bacon, pancakes, and eggs fills my senses. My stomach grumbles violently. When I was about to walk into the living room, the sound of a pan falling causes me to go back into sneaking.

A smooth voice sighs. Then, the sound of a door opening catches my attention. Looking into the kitchen, I see a white door open, the wall is covering the stove area. So, the person coming out of the bathroom wouldn’t be seen by mom, she was cooking breakfast and texting. You’ll only see the person if you were in my position...

That was a REALLY GOOD thing! Because when I seen that messy and blond hair...my jaw dropped.

I wave my hands in the air, rapidly. Trying to get the attention of the airhead! She doesn’t look my way, with every step forward, my heart drops. I’m gripping my hair and the wall.

She has entered the arch.

The kitchen.

The area that is going to be the death of me!

Oh no!

Oh dear!

My breathing is speeding up, I feel like I just ran...

I hold onto my stomach, I can feel the bile climbling up my esophagus...

Toga walks to the countertops in the middle of the kitchen, apples and pears are in a bowl in the middle of the countertops. Since those countertops form a table, they had chairs. She sat in one.

IDIOT. IDIOT. IDIOT.

The only thing that gives me hope, is the lack of my mom turning around. She faces the stove. Putting down her phone beside the stove....

There is silence.

Then, my mom vocalizes something, her voice is a bit relaxed, I can see her face from the side, she has a pout and downward eyebrows.

“Good morning. Syria, did you wash your hands?”

I stare at Toga with wide eyes. She still doesn’t see me. ‘TOGA. PLEASE. FIND. A. WAY. TO. RESPOND.’ is all that is rushing through my mind.

A small “mhm....” leaves her mouth...NO TOGA! IT’S “YES MA’AM”!

I can see one of my mom’s eyebrows go up. Her hands still pays attention to the eggs in the skillet pan....

“Hmm, you must feel funny today. Maybe because you left tomato juice sitting out! Syria, seriously, why were you drinking something out of the container?? Especially something you despise??”

She sighs and continue to scramble the eggs...

I feel like my heart is going into overdrive. PLEASE TOGA, LOOK OVER HERE!

“Well, remember your job today, wash the dishes after this breakfast. Then, hopefully your mood would improve after eating, a better mood increases any activity darling. I use that knowledge for handling your father.”

A small smile is on her face. My grip on my stomach loosens up a LITTLE bit.

Toga stares at the back of mom’s head...she smiles a bit.

“Oh, I forgot! Toast is over there, use that to help distract yourself while I complete these eggs.”

She points to the dining table, it has at least 5 pieces of toast on a plate. Luckily she didn’t turn around completely!

Toga gets out of the chair....

I see Raymond running into the kitchen, he runs up to Toga. She picks him up and grabs a piece of toast...the buttery one. MY piece of toast. I feel a pout on my face, while my stomach grunts in disapproval as well. I grip my stomach and hush myself.

Toga stands by the plate and eats the toast slowly. Her face lights up when she shallows MY...sigh, the piece of toast. Raymond looks up at her with those eyes. The gulit tripping eyes. REFUSE TOGA, REFUSE!

She pouts while chewing slower.

No.

FIGHT BACK.

REFUSE!

...

A piece of toast was now in his mouth. TOGA. WHYYYY??????!

Mom is reaching for a plate...the eggs are almost done.

The toast hangs from his mouth, he tries to munch on it, but the action is aggressive. She munches on one side of the toast, he attached to the other side. They fight for the bread, but there can only be ONE winner. Raymond. Of course. He yanks it away from her. But, there’s a problem.

She. Screeched.

Time slows down.

Mom’s head slowly turns to her direction.

My breathing has stopped...

and a plate has dropped.

• • •

The screaming....has not stopped.

“WHO AND WHERE IS YOUR PARENTS??!? WHOOO???-”

“I-HOW DID YOU GET IN HERE?!?!?- DREEEEWWWWWW!!!”

She is leaning into the stove, her hands are on the handle of the oven. Her eyes are blown out of proportion. She’s not the only one. My eyes are about to roll out of my eye sockets...

I hear heavy footsteps rushing down the stairs, his movement has caused my strains of hair to blow into my face. He rushes into the kitchen with a tie loosely on. He stands near mom, following her eyes, he spots the blonde with Raymond...and the toast hanging out of his mouth. Speaking of mouths, mine is on the floor.

Dad raises one eyebrow and stares at mom, “Damnit, I knew we should have used a condom!”

She turns to dad with a gasp and pure disgust.

T-ha. Just when I thought the bile was coming up, it was ready to come out!

Dad smirks and works up mom more, “Hmmm, that child don’t look like me though??? We need Maury??”

Her hands reaches her hips, balled in fists. She uses one hand to SMACK dad on the back of his head!

She raises her voice, as dad puts one finger in the ear near her, “DO THIS LOOK LIKE COMEDY CENTRAL TO YOU?!??! THERE’S A RANDOM CHILD IN THE KITCHEN, FOOL!”

He rubs the back of his head and nod, silently saying sorry.

She turns her attention back to Toga.

“Are you lost?! Are you hurt?! WHY DO YOU HAVE A BALD SPOT IN YOUR HEAD? Where do you come from?! How does Raymond know you?!?!”

My head is pounding...then I feel a strange cool sensation on the top of my head. I search around my head to locate the feeling, I found a spot...there is no hair there...WHAT. THE. FUCK. This was the spot...I look straight to Toga’s bald spot.........SHE RIPPED US APART........SHE.....I need the wall for complete support now.

Toga stare blankly at mom, her eyes are sparkling?....

Her mouth opens, “Wow...now I know where Syria gets her beauty from!”

Mom drops her face, she rubs her chin, “Did...did you say...”

Mom and dad looks at each other with one eyebrow raised....

• • •

“SYRIAAAAAAAA-”

sigh....

GODDAMNIT TOGA!

#toga himiko #bhna x reader #himiko toga x reader #bhna fanfiction

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