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the-omni-princess · 5 years ago

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Blood Bound [Chapter Seven]

Author: @the-omni-princess

Pairing: Vampire!Bucky x Witch!Reader

Summary: Vampires and witches have been known enemies since the dark ages. Backstabbing, secrets, and magic turned supernatural brethren again each other. As a natural-born witch, you grew up on these stories, your own monsters under your bed. What happens when one of those sworn enemies claims that you are his blood mate, the vampire equivalent of a true mate? Will you give in to this man out of time? Or destroy him for the sake of your Coven?

Word Count: 4K

Warnings: smut! (18+ only), blood kink (?kinda? lol he’s a vampire so), fluff, nightmares, cursing, flashbacks, Bucky being adorable, a hint of dom!Bucky and Praise kink, let me know if I missed anything

A/N:

For a <18 version/summary, please message me and I got you.

Finals are killing me so rip, I’ll be working on writing challenges/Secret Santas (lol I’m in multiple) first then the next chapter of this series (on the bright side, guess who’s writing a Stucky one shot :D )

[Series Masterlist] [My Masterlist] [Playlist Inspired by the Series]

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Previously….

“Hey, Bucky?” You whispered softly.

“Yeah?”

“Kiss me again.” He obliged, closing the distance to kiss you again. He was the one to deepen the kiss first, gentle yet dominating, demanding your full attention. You got lost in his touch, pressed against him as his hand around your waist pulled you tighter against him. “James,” you practically purred against his lips.

He groaned softly, smirking. “I love it when you say my name.” His lips brushed against yours, easily pulling your mouth back on his.

“Then I’ll keep saying it, Angel Eyes,” you murmured, pulling far enough off of him to run a hand through his fluffed up and mused hair. He groaned softly, making you grin as you lightly traced your fingertips against his scalp. “I want to remember, Bucky. Help me remember and I help you remember? All of it? From the beginning? I know a witch from another Coven who can help us.”

He leaned his forehead against yours, lips brushing past yours as he nodded. “All of it, Sweetling. From the beginning. And Theo?”

“Yeah?”

“I love you too.”

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“Hey, Bucky?”

“Yeah, Little Witch?”

“Why’d you jump in front of that silver dagger? It would have like, ya know, hurt Nat, but it would like kill you. Dumb bitch juice much?” You turned to face Bucky, still wrapped in his arms, completely content with just teasing him.

“Don’t come after me with facts, y/n/n, it's not fair.” He groaned, “I just acted, didn’t really stop and think.”

“Also, did my entire coven fuck off because they thought we were gonna bone?”

“Honestly, I was kinda crying because I took too much blood from you, Nat called me a pussy and said your anemic ass passes out easily, paraphrasing here-“

“Obviously.”

“And Nat and Steve, totally have a thing going on btw,” he continued, ignoring your interruption, “Kinda like shared a look and Nat went, ‘Alright, well, coven’s gonna just move this party outta here, give these kiddos some space,’ and that’s when I noticed you killed that Council Member, which is incredibly hot honestly, and like woah you’re hot, sorry sidetracked.”

“Keep boosting my ego and you might get more kisses out of it,” you bopped his nose, grinning playfully as he snapped his fangs towards it, making you yelp and burst into a fit of giggles.

He happily buried his face in your neck, holding you close, “My powerful and adorable witch,” he murmured.

“My brooding and dark and mysterious but actually a big goofball vampire,” you retorted, grinning when he pulled back to give you a look. “What? It’s completely true.”

You shrugged, grabbing your phone off the nightstand to shoot Nat a text. The Coven group chat was already lit up with messages, mostly them talking behind Sam and Steve’s back about the vampires, and planning their next move, and of course, the obligatory ‘making fun of the couple for their sex-scapades’ messages.

Bucky read most of the messages over your shoulder, not wanting to let you go so easily. “How many eggplant emojis can Wanda text before her fingers hurt?”

“Don’t let her hear that, or you’ll find eggplants everywhere. I made that mistake with the donut emoji,” you leaned your head against his shoulder, shooting a gif of a girl rolling her eyes.

“Did that picture just move?” Bucky whispered behind you.

“Do you not know what gifs are?”

“Phones are too easy to track; we usually use burner phones. Call and simple texts only.” He explained, much to your amusement.

“Allow me to teach you, oldie,” you teased, spending the next hour showing him the world of social media. His little grin and wide eyes sent your heart fluttering, and you silently prayed he didn’t hear it.

Soon, you yawned, your eyes threatening to close as sleep started to pull you in. Bucky simply tightened his arms around you, tucking you both underneath the covers of the bed. “Sleep, Sweetling. I’ll be here when you wake up,” he kissed your head tenderly, causing you to smile tiredly.

“Promise?” You spoke mid-yawn, letting Bucky place your phone back on the nightstand.

“Promise. And then we’ll talk about everything that happened. You deserve to rest.” You didn’t reply, only burying your face into his chest, elated to drink in his scent, the warm vanilla, and mint overtaking your senses. Spending so much time around him lately, you no longer minded the faint scent of copper blood mixed into his scent, but now you noticed something else. Tones of earthy traces, sparks of flame, and salt from the sea. He was starting to smell like a witch too. That last thought had you smiling goofily as sleep overtook you and your mind plunged into darkness.

Warm hands. Big, dragging, gentle, soft. Light kisses below your ear. Whispers of love. A murmur of “Sweetling.” Contentment. Sated. But this time the memory didn’t flee, it continued. Light kisses became heated, hands pressed against each other, fingers brushing alongside a soft fur blanket. Gasping breaths, nerves lit up on fire. Bits and pieces like a puzzle pulling together to make the final picture.

“Come on, James! It’s the summer solstice and a full moon, and you are taking positively forever!” Your voice cried out, tugging a warm hand with you, your other arm carrying a woven basket filled with candles and blankets.

Pale moonlight illuminating the grassy meadow as you let go of his hand, placing the fur blankets down before lining the stones, crystals, and candles in a circle. “I do not think the moon will climb any faster than it does every year, Theodosia,” Bucky stood there, his hair an inch longer than you remembered, grinning as he helped make the circle comfortable.

“Still! I want this to be perfect,” you whispered, sighing softly as you stood in the middle of the circle. Alone with only your lover in the wilderness, unafraid to be who you really were. At peace. Excited.

You pulled on the string of your cloak, tugging it off until you tossed it out of the circle entirely, bare as you sat on the furs. Looking up at Bucky, you smiled, “Will you be joining me, or staring the entire time?”

He simply smirked, “I would not mind watching, I must admit.”

“Oh nonsense, hurry yourself or I will send you back home,” you teased, ignoring the blush threatening to creep onto your face.

“I am moving, do not worry, Little Witch,” he chuckled, pulling off his own cloak and tossing it out of the circle before lying beside you.

Without a word you threw your leg on the other side of his hips, easily finding your way above him, straddling his hips. “Why hello there, My Love,” you smiled warmly, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“Hello there, Sweetling,” his hands gripped your hips, the electricity pulsing from your body didn’t affect him, simply surrounding you both as the winds started to pick up. Light kisses became needier, heated. “I’m yours,” he pledged in a soft voice.

“And I’m yours. Forever, mo chridhe,” You smiled warmly, his eyebrows furrowing as he pulled you close to kiss again. Your hands ran through his hair, moaning softly as he nipped at your bottom lip. Electric pulsing came from a source that was not your powers, euphoria as flashes of other memories swept along like a coursing river.

Picking flowers in a meadow, laying amongst the lavender.

Lying beside a fire, warm hands around your body, pulling you closer by your hips.

Handmaking candles in preparation for the winters, lining your coats with furs, placing new fur blankets on the bed.

Your back arching, fingers gripping those same furs as you cried out.

Murmurs of spells and enchantments, healings.

Whispers with sour tones behind your back. Witch. Devil’s Spawn.

As quickly as the wave of memories turned changed, they quickly turned back to icy blue eyes. Eyes and arms that pulled you in, kissed your head and lips that said they loved you. James. Bucky.

“This isn’t real, Little Witch,” He gently cupped your face in his hands. “This isn’t real, it’s time to go,” He whispered.

“I don’t want to go again, James. I don’t want to lose you again,” you murmured, closing your eyes as you leaned against his hands.

“Don’t you remember, Theo? You found me again, I won’t let you get away that easy.” Your eyes fluttered open, deep blue ice pulling you back into the bright room. You noticed it was an older room, seemingly of a log cabin. You’ve been here before, but you couldn’t quite remember when. “I’m never letting you go again.”

“I thought you said it was time to go?” You looked back at him, nuzzling deeper into his warm arms. Something about that seemed wrong.

He smiled warmly, tilting your chin up to look at him, affection burning in his eyes, “It is, but I’ll be right there when you open your eyes. I’ll be your anchor in the light, you’ve always been the Good Witch, now it’s my turn to guide you to light magic. We’ll go together.”

“Promise?” Your voice showed exactly how terrified you were.

“Promise, Sweetling.” He smiled, kissing your temple affectionately, “You won’t be alone. Now, wake up.”

You gasped awake, eyes wide, shaking. Bucky was sitting up above you, wide eyes and trying to calm you. His mouth was moving, and you absentmindedly felt his hands gently holding your face. Your senses seemed to flood you at once, the bile rising in your throat, terror filling your body as Bucky’s words finally registered in your brain.

“There you go, baby girl, breathe with me. In, out, just like that,” following his words your trembling soon stopped, and you let your eyes close, trusting in the man in front of you. Sighing softly, he pressed his thumbs against your cheeks, and you were surprised to find that it came back wet. You were crying. God, you felt kinda pathetic but being in his arms made you feel safe. “You alright now?” He asked softly, your only response being a small nod. You couldn’t even remember why you were crying.

You moved closer, leaning against him on the bed again. “The memories… They’re coming faster than I can stop them.”

“What did you see?” His voice was soft, still cradling you close, not willing to let you go so easily.

“Doesn’t matter too much,” you mumbled, hoping he didn’t notice you blushing as you recalled the moonlit ritual with him.

“Does it? Or are you too embarrassed to say it?” He teased, tilting your head up to look at him, you were curled up in his arms, both of your arms secure against your chest.

“Rituals in the light of the full moon,” you swallowed thickly, steeling your courage. “Using sex magic for bigger spells,” you murmured.

His cheeks flushed pink but kept on grinning, clearly enjoying your shyness. “Is that it, Little Witch?”

“Mostly flashes of random moments,” You paused, becoming more serious, “I hate how none of them connect, it’s all a bunch of random pieces of string in a cobweb…”

“Or a really fucked up jigsaw.” He gently laid you back down across the soft blankets, laying beside you. “I understand that more than you think.”

You moved closer, gently rubbing your nose against his, allowing your eyes to close as you pressed a kiss to his head, letting his head rest at the top of your sternum. “I want to remember you, all of you. You’ve always been there, in the back of my head for years and I haven’t even noticed. You’ve always been a part of me,” you gulped faintly as his nose pressed lightly against your collarbone, grazing past the skin there, lips dotting small kisses along the exposed flesh above your mint charm necklace.

“I used to wonder why I was obsessed with honey. Sam used to tease me that there was no pleasing me,” he continued pressing kisses up your skin, “No matter what honey I tried, I never liked it, it was never right. Now I know it’s because,” he paused at your pulse point, teasingly licking up the thin cords of your neck that shielded your arteries from exposure. The attention made you keen, a faint whimper escaping your lips; one you instantly regretted as you felt his responding smirk against your skin. “Your scent is the honey I was missing. My mate’s scent,” he murmured, placing a possessive kiss just below your ear.

“Mate?” you whispered, the question at the forefront of your mind promptly evaporating the second he started to suck gently on your pulse point, fangs brushing against the skin without breaking it.

“Mine,” his voice was at a near growl, which sent a warm spark directly to your core.

“Make me remember, mo chridhe,” you weren’t quite sure where that phrase kept coming from, an underlining need to say it, but you decided not to question it. “Please-“ your pleas died off with a small breathy moan as his kisses moved up just far enough to suck a line of hickeys right under your jaw.

“Gladly, Sweetlin’ I’d do anything for ya,” as his voice got huskier, his accent started to slip in. He rolled a bit of his weight onto you, moving his lips higher again to claim yours. He was dominating, just a level below overwhelming; too much without being too much.

As your lips are being kissed, very thoroughly mind you, his hands start to push up your shirt, a random button down you happened to have on a chair earlier and Nat must have put on you while you were passed out. Must have had blood on the other shirt.

Your skin was heating up, your hands finding their way onto his body. One hand pressed against his abdomen, nails scratching faintly, enjoying the little groan he would give you in response. The other hand in his thick curls, finding purchase in them as you arched faintly against his touch.

“Bucky?” you murmured, biting your lip as you pressed your forehead against his. “Bite me,” you paused before adding in a soft voice, “Claim me.”

He pulled away, icy blue eyes wide, voice hoarse, “How do you know about vampire claims?” It was a little archaic, but a vampire could claim another nocturnal, and sometimes even humans. It wasn’t painful per se, but it would be for life.

“When I was doing research into vampires, I read it in one of the older texts.” You whispered, suddenly nervous. “Y-you don’t have-“

“No, no, Sweetling,” his hands pulled away from your hips, tenderly holding your face in his palms. “I just want you to be sure. Being Bound to each other is one thing, we cannot control that, but Claiming? It’d be forever, no one would come near you,” his thumbs gently rubbed circles into your cheeks, eyes watching your response carefully.

“I know… I’m yours, remember? Forever,” you placed your hands on top of his, pressing a soft kiss against his fingertips.

His face softened, his thumb running along the seam of your lips, his eyes glancing down before focusing on your eyes again. “And I am yours,” he agreed, smiling faintly. “I remember…. Are you sure you want this, Little Witch? You don’t have to let the past define you - define us.”

“I’m sure. The past isn’t making this decision for me, Bucky. Our past brought me to you, but I fell in love with this version of you. I love every form and every part of James Buchanan Barnes.”

“God, I love you,” he confessed before pushing forward and kissing you. Desperate as he kissed you deeper, demanding in his ministrations. You pushed his hands back onto your hips, your own hands quickly finding their way back to his hair, tugging him closer as you moaned softly against his lips. He groaned softly, his hand gripping your thigh and pulling it over his waist.

Lips breaking apart for breath, voice hoarse and gasping pleas. He simply smirked in response, your hands moving past his shoulders to tug his shirt up. He pulled away, sitting up, chuckling as you whimpered softly from the loss. “Patience, baby,” he teased, pulling his shirt off and tossing it aside. You blinked a few times, your brain connecting to your body again before pulling your own shirt off, looking up at him shyly. He ran his hands down your sides, before tugging your hips closer to where he was kneeling on the bed. “If you want to stop, just say the word,” he leaned over you, foreheads pressed together as he kissed you again, this time softer, with more reverence.

“I want this, I want you. Don’t stop, Angel Eyes,” you murmured against his lips, eyes fluttering closed with a small moan as his hands ran up against your inner thighs, pushing them apart.

“Gladly, Sweetlin’” his touch was teasing, but his hand soon moved right over your throbbing core, making you gasp softly. He dragged your shorts and panties off with one tug, throwing them aside hastily before his fingers returned to your folds, teasing as he spread your slick around. “Fuck, you’re so wet. Is this all for me?”

He pressed harder against your clit, rubbing small circles there making you cry out. “Ye-yes! All… all for you,” your hips jerked against his hand, choking out a moan as the pleasure started to electrify every nerve in your body.

“Is that right? How bad do you want me, Little Witch?” You whimpered softly, your mind swirling, unable to fully formulate a response. Your hand gripped his wrist, writhing under his touch as his hands started to tease your entrance. “Answer me, baby,” he warned against your ear, thoroughly enjoying your squirming. He kissed down your neck, taking his time teasing your skin with his teeth. Your hands quickly gripped onto your comforter, toes curling as he kitten licked your nipple, lips attaching to it before sucking harshly.

“So- ah! So bad!” You cried out, breathy moans escaping your lips as he slid two fingers into you.

He pumped them in and out slowly before curling them against your walls, smirking against the skin of your collarbone as you practically wept. “There it is,” he marveled, soon pumping his fingers faster against that spot, his thumb rubbing circles into your bundle of nerves as he sped up.

The knot in your stomach tightened, your heart fluttering as you neared your edge. “Please, James. Please,” you practically begged, not noticing his smirk as he watched you squirm for him, his free hand pressed against your stomach to keep your hips from moving.

“That’s it, Sweetlin’, let go, I’ve got you,” his hand pushed your hips down as you arched against him, the show of strength adding to the building ecstasy. The knot snapped, sending you into euphoria as you moaned his name. Electricity ran up your spine and down your arms, gripping onto him as little sparks surrounded you.

He watched you in awe, slowing his hand once you squirmed away from his hand from the overstimulation. He chuckled, pulling away from you as your eyes opened. You groaned, the first sight you saw being him sucking his fingers clean. You tried catching your breath, pushing off of your elbows to sit up, grabbing onto his jeans and pulling him close with it, attacking him in a heated kiss.

Your hands immediately went to the button of the jeans, practically ripping it off as you unzipped them. “Off. Now,” you gasped against his lips. He nodded, obliging as he pushed his knees up off the bed to stand, scrambling out his jeans and boxers. You bit your lip, smirking as you watched him trip over himself. He froze, unsure if he should continue, giving you the ‘deer in headlights’ look. You sat up on your knees, pulling him closer and using his surprise to push him down onto the bed, putting yourself on top of him. “Need you now, babe,” you murmured. Straddling his hips, you kissed him deeply as he lined himself up.

Slowly lowing yourself down onto him, you moaned, feeling the stretch of his length. He wasn’t small by any means, so you slowed down, whimpering softly as your hips met his, his length fully seated in you. “F-fuck, you feel so good,” he mumbled, his hands gripping onto your hips. You preened at the praise, taking a moment with him bottomed out, adjusting to his thick length.

“So do you,” you lean your forehead against his, pressing kisses across his face as you softly rock your hips. You moved slowly, lacing your hand in the hair at the nape of his neck, your other hand gripping onto his shoulder as you raised your hips a little faster. You dug your nails into the thick cords of his muscles, moaning as you moved. His hips bucked up against yours, making you basically mewl out, “Fuck.” You whimpered, your eyes closing as he fixed his stance, continuing to meet your hips thrust for thrust as you rode him. “Couldn’t just let me be in control, huh?” you teased, circling your hips against his.

He chuckled, gripping your hips to still you. “Bold of you to assume you’re in charge here,” your eyes opened in slight surprise, a chill going up your spine as you realized his eyes were a mix of his witch and vampire sides, red with a golden ring around them. He took charge, slamming his hips up, making you yelp as the pleasure spread at the rough display, both arms around his neck holding on for dear life. You most definitely didn’t mind this side of him. “You take me so well, such a good girl,” the praise sends your head spinning, a fact he locked away in his head for later. “Fuck, Sweetling,” He groans loudly as he grips you tighter, using the angle to pound up into you.

“Fuck, ple-please,” your voice died off as he continued, in total control of your pleasure. One hand was wrapped around your waist, keeping you steady as he moved harder, his length pressing against sensitive nerve endings you didn’t even know existed. His other hand slid between your bodies, roughly circling your clit, making your body seize up, clenching around him.

“Cum for me, Sweetling,” his voice was husky, lips pressed below your ear, “Then I’ll Claim you,” he promised, his own moan cutting his voice off.

You could only reply in breathless whimpers and mewls, brutal yet beautiful bliss overwhelming your body as the familiar knot in your stomach snapped again. He licked right over your pulse point, his hips stuttering a bit as he praised you, “That’s it,” he practically snarled against your skin.

Just as the pleasure started to die down, you felt his fangs brush against your skin. You relaxed in his arms, perfectly boneless. “Come on, Bucky. Cum for me,” you nuzzled your nose under his ear, “Please,” you groaned quietly, one hand tugging lightly on his hair.

His growled softly, fangs bared before they sunk into your lifeline just as he came hard. You cried out, the bite sent euphoric sparks down your neck and spine, pooling at your core and lighting up your brain which sent you gasping and crying out into another orgasm. It was completely different from the last time Bucky fed on you.

Just like that, you felt something snap inside of you, the hole you felt in your chest all your life shifted, filling. The yearning gone, filled instead with contentment and consuming bliss. You could feel and hear Bucky whimper against your neck as he pulled away, hips slowing until they stilled. He still held you close, gently licking the mark on your neck, cleaning off your blood as the wound closed while you mewled softly.

You both just held onto each other, catching your breath, gladly pressed into each other. “Did you feel that too?” You whispered once your breathing became normal again.

He pulled away slowly, a small sheen of sweat on his skin but he was grinning at you. “I did… I think my vampire side is a little happy I claimed you,” he teased.

You blushed but couldn’t help your little smile. “I concur,” you joked, kissing him softly. The heat and passion from earlier dwindling down, both of you sated. He held onto your hips, turning and laying you both down on the bed again, holding you close, unwilling to let you go just yet. “Ya know, we didn’t get much talking done.”

His eyes lit up as he laughed, grinning as he kissed your temple. “I don’t think your Coven will mind much. Now rest, Sweetling,” he pushed a curl of hair behind your ear, tenderly holding you. Your legs curled between his, your body tucked into his broad chest, letting his scent mixed with the smell of sex surround you.

“You too, mo chridhe,” you smiled warmly, holding yourself close together as you let sleep take both of you into the depths of darkness.

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mo chridhe means My Heart in Scots Gaelic

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For a tag, just reply/comment, if I don’t see it, just message me. Tell me what you think! Literally, any comment makes me happy! Like, comment, reblog, interact <3

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limitededitionsanderssidesblog · 5 years ago

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Will Deceit Disguise Himself Again???

So a thought randomly came to me regarding Deceit, who and will Deceit disguise himself as next? Thus far in the series, after DWIT, Deceit has only disguised himself as two sides, Patton and Logan. There are still other sides he can transform into.

But will he? As we’ve seen so far, disguising himself hasn’t lead to any significant success and he was always found out eventually, so will he even bother to try again? Well, they say third time’s the charm. But for what purpose would he need to go in disguise?

Well, let’s take a look at the other times Deceit has impersonated one of the other sides.

Deceit as Patton, in CLBG:

In order to analyze his reason behind this disguise, let’s revisit the plot behind this episode.

Thomas, who had made a previous promise to his best friend Joan to attend his staged reading, gets sidetracked with a handsome fella and forgets to uphold his promise to Joan. The next morning he gets a, seemingly angry, text from Joan asking where he was the previous night. The sides then argue over what course of action to take over the matter, be honest and face Joan’s wrath, or lie to not hurt their feelings.

In this episode, Deceit decides to impersonate Patton in order to convince Thomas that fabricating the truth would spare both Joan’s feelings and protect Thomas from any negative side effect that would come with damaging their friendship.

Later in this episode, after deceit is revealed and leaves, Patton calls him a form of “self-preservation” who wants to act in Thomas’s best interest.

Deceit knew that Patton, who is one of the most influential sides, would be adamant against lying because of his morality towards altruism. Therefore, he went in his stead before he could be summoned, which is why he was the first to appear. His entire goal in this episode is simply to protect Thomas from getting hurt and to try and convince him that lying isn’t something so morally evil.

But he isn’t just protecting him from external harm, but also from internal. Take this line into consideration.

I usually ignored this line and disregarded it as Deceit simply being snarky, until you take in Deceit’s cannon ability and responsibility to hide away all unpleasantries that Thomas doesn’t want to admit or know about himself.

He’s reflecting his purpose to protect Thomas, and he’s purposefully being sarcastic and chastizing. After all, Deceit was forced to keep himself hidden for years because Thomas didn’t want to admit that he was capable of dishonesty. He’s just as much as a side as the others, yet he wasn’t allowed to give his opinion or contribute to any of the debates because of Thomas’s fearful thinking and denial.

Years and years of being rejected finally grew to much, so when his plan to protect Thomas was rejected, he gave up on trying to conceal himself and dropped the act, although he still wasn’t able to reveal himself until Thomas gave his consent to know about him.

Look at his expression when he has to silence Logan from saying his name:

He’s just so done with it all, he looks annoyed and tired like, “Great Thomas knows something is up yet I still can’t reveal myself.”

He doesn’t take any pleasure it keeping his existence a secret, but he’s forced to, it’s how Thomas unknowingly programmed him to be. Until at the end of the episode when Thomas finally sees him for who he is and he’s no longer required to stay in the dark.

And he doesn’t even wait that long to stay gone. The next episode he’s the first of the sides to make a cameo in WDWGUITM

But then he’s immediately told to leave. After waiting years to finally be accepted into the group, he’s still ignored and despised. But more on that later.

Deceit as Logan, in SvS:

Okay, a quick summary of this vid- GO!

Thomas had just found out a few hours ahead of that he got a callback to be in an upcoming movie directed by Alfred Hitchcoppolucas, an esteemed director in this universe. However, the callback shares the same date as the wedding of two of Thomas’s friends, Lee and Mary Lee. The sides then argue which one they should go to, while Deceit initially disguises himself as Logan to try and reason why the callback is a better choice, but it quickly discovered.

I won’t go into too much depth over why Deceit wants Thomas to go to the callback (you can see my other theory, What is Deceit Really After? for further detail) but basically what Deceit is after in this episode is security for Thomas both socially and financially, a result as the part of him charged with self preservation.

But not only that, Deceit wants Thomas to stop denying the parts of him that are hidden away. Take a close look at these lines from SvS:

“That’s not really necessary. I think now you see that all this is-”

“But you’re still missing the point!”

“Okay, let me put it this way. Life... is like a pinata. Sure, and you want that makes you happy, right?! Well, in order to get that stuff you must attack the pinata. But you’re wearing a blindfold right now. You can keep it on if you like the game better that way, but if you take it off, it’s easier to get that stuff you want.”

The main point and purpose behind Deceit spending his time trying to get Thomas to admit that he wanted to go to the call back was not simply to get him to go, although that is a good portion of it. His true purpose was to get Thomas to take off his blindfold and stop denying the other sides of him still hidden away.

So, back to the main point, why did Deceit disguise himself? Well in Patton’s case it was because he still wasn’t allowed out as himself, and to protect Thomas from a potential fallout in friendship. With Logan, it was to convince Thomas to let the other sides out too and face the facts of his true self, and to get him to go to the callback for security. With these grounds covered, is there any real reason for Deceit to disguise himself again? And even if he did have a reason, who would he disguise himself as?

To figure that out, let's look over what disguising himself as the other two main sides would gain him.

Deceit as Roman:

From the first time we saw Deceit, we’ve seen him manipulate and trick Roman. In every episode he plays a major role in, he uses Roman almost like a puppet. Even roman admitted to feeling “used” at the end of CLBG.

For this reason, Roman appears to be very important to Deceit’s plans, not only because he is easily swayed with pretty words and affection, but because he shares a lot of his viewpoints. In the times that lying was brought up as a possible course of action, Roman was always initially in favor of it. And, since a large part of Roman is egoism, he can often come off as selfish, which Deceit has also been caused.

Disguising himself as Roman would be the perfect way for Deceit to get his point across without being ignored or met with negativity.

On the other hand, if Roman were to find out about Deceit disguising himself as him it could lead to a falling out between them, and cause Deceit to lose the only ally he has with the main four. This, as well as Roman chivalrous side, would never agree with letting the dark sides free, after all, he was the one who coined the name and has announced his dislike for each of the dark sides at some point or another, including pre-aa Virgil.

So the likelihood of being copied? 6.5/10, very possible, but I wouldn’t count on it

Deceit as Virgil:

This one is much harder because of their conflicting interests and their complicated history that has been hinted to but not (yet) shown.

In CLBG, Virgil was against Deceit!Patton’s idea to lie to Joan and thought it would be better to tell them the truth. This could be due to the his fear of being caught in a lie outweighing his fear of making Joan upset; or, it could be his fear that lying would summon Deceit, who he clearly doesn’t like.

In SVS, Virgil isn’t clear on his stance on the callback vs wedding debate and instead is only focusing on the fact that he doesn’t want Deceit there.

So, overall, there isn’t much for Deceit to gain by transforming into him, as the others are all well aware of his hate for him and everything he stands.

But what if Deceit were to go about it a different way?

As I once described in my other theory I linked above, it is very likely that Deceit wants Virgil back on his side because of the influence and power he has. So what if instead of disguising himself to participate in a discussion, it was to make it appear as if Virgil reverted back to his old ways and get Thomas and the others to despise him again so that he’d have no choice but to go back to the dark sides.

Even if Virgil were to appear and reveal him, this would give Deceit the perfect opportunity to let a few secrets from Virgil’s past slip. Even if Virgil denied them, that seed of doubt would be plated in Thomas’s head. And that could grow into a weed strong enough to push Virgil away, right into Deceit’s hands.

Likelihood though: 4/10, not completely impossible, but most likely won’t happen.

At this point, Deceit is so over being hidden away and having to keep the others hidden away, one possible reason he released Remus, that he may not even want to disguise himself again. It is possible we won’t see him impersonate another side on screen for a very long time, or if at all.

[Short message undercut]

Sorry, I couldn’t get this idea out of my head and I had to write it down to try and sort it all out, but honestly just came out like a mess, I’m not sure if this makes any sense. Anywho, this is my take on the whole situation. Feel free to ignore this.

#Does. this. make. any. sense???#sanders sides #sanders sides theory #ts theory #ts theories #thomas sanders #deceit sanders #ts deceit #patton sanders #logan sanders #roman sanders #virgil sanders #remus sanders #thomassanders #fanders #famders

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pluviophile-bookworm · 5 years ago

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AWAE 1x3 rewatch: thoughts and reactions

I took a completely unannounced break from posting my reactions to AWAE. How rude of me. But I hope whoever reads these can forgive me, as I’m sure you’d understand that university is no joke. I’m not going to be posting for a while because I simply haven’t got the time to rewatch and write a reaction post, but I’ll be back as soon as I can. For now, I’m leaving you with my thoughts on 1x3 in celebration of the Netflix release of season 3.

I’m actually really excited to be rewatching this episode since I’ve forgotten quite a bit of its plot details. I do remember it marks the first appearance of Gilbert, all the kids, and the school setting. I’ve told myself many times before that if this show was just Anne and her friends going about their day-to-day life, I’d still watch it and love it. So let’s dive right in.

I’m so happy to actually see Anne smile from ear to ear while getting ready for her first day of school. She’s nervous, but excited, and she deserves something positive after being denied so many joys for so many years. True, it will not be easy at first, but I can’t help admiring her positive disposition even though she is several years behind and is still not exactly accepted into the society of Avonlea with open arms.

Anne dropping and breaking that cup reminds me of myself on my first day of middle school - even up to the hope that it’s not a sign of how the rest of the day is going to go. However, unlike me, Anne keeps up the positive attitude and, as I already said, I admire her for it.

As much as I understand why Anne feels the way she does about her looks (she’s only 13 and she’s probably spent all her life being told she was ugly because of her red hair and freckles, and she never found beautiful heroines in the books she read that had those features), I agree with Marilla on this - Anne should find a worthier overriding concern, or indeed feel lucky she doesn’t have to worry about anything bigger than that anymore.

Matthew and Marilla have only had Anne for what, a couple of weeks? But they already look like typical parents sending their only child off to school. I love them so much as parents. I just love them in general, too. Now that was a beautiful cold open, of the type I call “gold open”.

Talking to the trees as if they were fine ladies and decorating her hat with flowers is such an Anne thing to do... society may find it odd, but I love her for it. What can I say, I love this girl and that’s that.

As much as Diana wouldn’t admit it because she was raised by her mother, I believe she loved the way Anne looked with the flowers on her hat. I also believe that she would have very much wants to do the same, but would never be allowed to. Just saying that makes me go back to her awesome development throughout the majority of season 3... Anne has been a big influence on her, obviously.

“It won’t be long until my parents accept you” - well, they did, but they were still very disapproving of Jerry and his family just because they’re poor - which is probably not their fault. And I know it took saving Minnie May’s life for them to accept Anne, while Jerry never did that... but didn’t his family take Diana in when she was (supposedly) so badly injured she couldn’t walk? Isn’t that a good thing? and instead of accepting the Baynards, the Barries were even more terrible to them afterwards. Double standards much? Ok, I got sidetracked. Let’s go back to 1x3.

The whole scene of Anne meeting Moody and Charlie has me laughing out loud, from the “I’m Moody” - “I’m sorry” exchange, which makes me think that Moody’s name is dad joke material, to Diana’s “Don’t talk to the boys. They’re ridiculous.” And then she mentions Gilbert Blythe in a way that makes me think - am I correct in assuming she had some sort of feelings for him, too? Did every girl have a crush on him but repress it in favour of Ruby? What would Ruby say about that?

These girls have me in stitches, a much needed change from the tragedy and drama of the first two episodes. And then... there were many “started from the bottom” moments in this season, naturally, but I think Jane is an exception to the rule. She actually started out pretty well, standing up to her brother for a social outcast she just met, and then in season three she almost supports him in something much more terrible. She had potential. That’s such a glow-down. But hey, not everybody can be Prissy.

“Never let them know when you like them, either” Is that what you do with Gilbert, dear? Because I don’t think you’re very good at it. But it seems that Anne took that advice a bit too literally. That would explain a lot of her actions throughout the series.

Wait, Mrs. Andrews was one of the ladies who invited Marilla into the Progressive Mothers? Seems like Prissy turned out to be more her mother’s daughter than her father’s, then. But it’s a bit of a mystery to me how a progressive woman married a man who takes his son’s side when he assaults a girl... Seriously, the whole Andrews family is a mystery to me. First we have Prissy and Billy, who grow up to be like their mother and their father respectively - while being raised by both parents; and then there’s Jane whose character development is in the wrong direction if it’s there at all. I can’t figure them out at all.

Anne and Diana’s polar opposite reactions to long division is a perfect illustration of their vastly different backgrounds. While privileged Diana is long done with long division, Anne just realises how far behind she is because she’s spent her young life working in abusive households instead of getting the least bit of proper education. It just makes you wonder how she managed to become such an avid reader when she never seemed to have any proper formal education. But there is the case of Matilda Wormwood who taught herself to read even in the worst possible environment, so why not?

I’m glad the age difference between Mr. Phillips and Prissy is at least acknowledged by someone... while I wouldn’t quite describe him as “old”, he’s more than old enough to make a relationship with 16-year-old Prissy wildly inappropriate and an outright crime by today’s standards. I’m so glad things turned out the way they did for Prissy in the end.

Wait, so people back then used to think that a simple touch between a male and a female meant intimate relations? No wonder the girls reacted the way they did when the time came to dance with boys in season 3. This, along with the entirety of 3x5, is solid proof how badly these young people need proper sex ed... unfortunately, they won’t be getting it. They’re pretty much on their own when it comes to that.

I have no idea how i’m going to endure seeing Mr. Phillips for the rest of the season. And half of the second one. He’s one of those people that just make you wonder how on earth they ever became teachers. Like, even if he was somehow convinced he wanted to become one when he was young, how did people responsible for his higher education let him proceed to that profession with a character like his? Internalised homophobia or whatever Freudian excuse people may think of for him is certainly no excuse for the way he’s treating Anne in this scene. But can I take a moment to share a weird observation I just made - it just so happens that Anne starts her acquaintance with both her teachers in the series by spreading rumours - although accidentally.

“Are they in love?” - “When it comes to intimate relations, I’m not sure it matters.” Anne just spoke a dark truth without realising it. Although her knowledge is vague and filled with unusual euphemisms, she seems to have realised something important - love and physical intimacy aren’t mutually required in a relationship - unfortunately. I don’t even want to talk about it. Maybe I’m just not the right person to discuss such matters.

Talk about abusive household... even Anne, a very young girl with no sex ed, realised Mr. Hammond habitually raped his wife when he would get drunk... imagine the horrors the poor girl has endured in that family - and the horrors the members of the family themselves have had to go through on a daily basis... and now the girls are isolating Anne because of what she’s experienced... let’s skip ahead.

“Feminism... what exactly does it mean”? Well, ask Anne Shirley- Cuthbert - I’m sure she can explain it to you. Because you ladies insist on calling yourselves progressive, but some of you seem to not understand that true feminism is about treating all, and that means absolutely all women as equal to each other and to men.

“Especially for those who are unlikely to marry” - what exactly do you mean by that? Is a girl who doesn’t get married before 17 somehow less worthy of respect in your opinion? I don’t know exactly who that woman thinks she is, but I didn’t like the suggestion in her tone...

I’m just glad Anne plucked away the flowers from her hat before Marilla could see them... of course, she should be free to wear as many flowers on her hat and in her hair as her heart desires, but such is the situation that she can’t afford to do it right now.

Is this the same Rachel Lynde who represented women in a council made up entirely of men? The one who insisted on adding three more women to it? The one who offered Marilla as one of those women? Well, of course you could argue she is not the same Rachel - she was later changed by Anne, like pretty much everyone else in Avonlea. And I’m glad that such a change took place. Because imagine where Avonlea, nay, where the world would be without Anne Shirley- Cuthbert. How dare whoever is responsible for the cancellation take her away from us?

“I reckon every new idea was modern once - until it wasn’t.” Matthew is just about the best man of them all since day one. In Matthew we trust.

“You know, there’s a difference between having an opinion about something and pronouncing judgement” - Marilla just put Rachel in her place by pointing out the fine line between voicing your opinion and acting like your opinion is the only valid one. Good on you, Marilla!

Anne is so dedicated to catching up and advancing further in her education... no wonder she ended up tying with Gilbert for first place at the Queens exams. Speaking of Gilbert, I just can’t wait to see him for the first time again. Is that coming soon?

I just can’t help admiring Anne more and more with every scene... she’s so optimistic about each new day that it just gives me hope that the sun will, indeed, come out tomorrow. Oops, wrong optimistic red-headed orphan... anyways, if the sun doesn’t come out, there’s still Jerry’s refreshing sarcasm and snarky one-liners.

Billy has some nerve calling Anne out for saying “nasty stuff” about his sister - sure, what she said wasn’t the most innocent of things, but she certainly didn’t mean it that way. Besides, Billy himself will go on to do way nastier stuff to another poor girl - and never realise the dramatic irony. Because he’s the classic straight white entitled man, one of those people you just can’t like. No matter what they do.

There he is... couldn’t arrive at a better time, could you, Gil? This is one of my top 5 favourite moments of his throughout the entire series. It’s literally the equivalent of seeing a girl being attacked by a guy and talking to him as if he’s a civilised person instead of taking up his own aggressive tone, and I love that they chose to introduce Gilbert in such a context of all possibilities. “Any dragons around here need slaying?” Gilbert Blythe is a true knight in shining armour and he knows it.

“Miss? What’s your name? Miss?” And thus begins the story of the two most confused teenagers in Canada, the slowest of all slow burns, the love story to end them all. A shaky start, sure, but it’s a start.

“You can’t talk to Gilbert Blythe. You can’t even look at him.” Can you believe they’ve come from here to the point where they unanimously decided Anne was the only one who could ask Gilbert how babies are made... isn’t it ironic? But, I mean, from this episode all the way to the end, she did a very good job of convincing every one of them, including herself, that she didn’t care a single bit about Gilbert.

I just can’t get over Anne’s reciting... she’s certainly managed to get all eyes on her - but mostly Gilbert’s, with the most expressive pair of eyebrows above them... once again, Anne has made a strong impression... one that some liked and some will surely condemn - but it’s their loss.

There goes that scene... the notorious apple from the notorious Blythe orchard we never got to see Shirbert in. And I have to say, Anne might have made a good ventriloquist. Too bad she’s not supposed to talk to Gilbert because... girl code is a thing. They won’t accept her as one of their own, yet she must play by their rules. It just seems unfair.

Do the people of Avonlea have no sense of relativity and context? A bad rumour shouldn’t be taken so dramatically when it is a prepubescent girl who’s spreading it. She should be forgiven on account that she just didn’t know better. Instead, the very same story was repeated years later with Josie, where, again, nobody cared to gauge the circumstances - Anne only intended to defend Josie, not tarnish her reputation. It’s just the skewed priorities of the time that caused things to turn out the way they did.

And this is the little moment that most likely started the spark in Jerry’s mind about wanting an education - just a simple remark from Anne that happened to contain a word he didn’t understand. They do say that it takes just one spark to start a fire. This little boy of mine is going far. Not without Anne, though. The two of them took their time to warm up to each other, but who could stop them when they finally did?

Gilbert is positively going to waste all of his chalk if throwing it at Anne is how he intends to get her attention. I have to say pulling on her braid was a bit too childish for him based on how he was established, but hey, we all have our moments, and for Gilbert, this is one of the most iconic ones in the source material, so why would anyone change it? Anne’s story wouldn’t be authentic if she didn’t crack her slate over Gilbert’s head. This immortal Anne of Green Gables scene was impeccably delivered by the infinitely talented cast of AWAE.

Taking away the E and the Cuthbert from Anne’s name was a cruel thing to do. I can’t tell you how I trembled when I read this scene in the book years ago, just because of the E and how it felt like salt in the cuts left by what had just transpired, but now, the Cuthbert, too - the one thing that is solid proof to Anne that she belongs there - that she belongs to someone who finally accepts, maybe even loves her as she is - that, I have to say, is an awfully terrible thing to do to a young orphan if we look at it through Anne’s eyes. And let’s admit it, we all did in that moment if not in any other.

Storming off is what any sensitive young girl with a strong sense of justice like Anne would do in her place, and, to her credit, she did walk out in dignity at least up to the schoolhouse’s door. I have to say she handled the situation way, way better than I ever could have.

I mean, I would have reacted the same way as Anne when she said she was never going back to school, but let’s think for a second. There’s a little boy in the barn who would gladly take her place. Because going to school, however challenging at times, is a privilege. She should take a moment to catch her breath and realise that.

To sum up, in this episode we saw: Anne’s shaky first day of school; the introduction of all of Anne’s schoolmates; the accidental scandal concerning a supposed scandalous accident; the Andrews family never ceases to puzzle me; “progressive mothers” being not so progressive; Marilla and Anne face similar bad treatment from their respective peers; a shaky start to the slowest of slow burns; a spark is ignited in Jerry; a broken slate and more than one broken heart.

#anne with an e #anne with an e spoilers #awae #awae season 1 #anne shirley cuthbert #gilbert blythe #diana barry #jerry baynard #ruby gillis #moody spurgeon #jane andrews #billy andrews #prissy andrews #marilla cuthbert #matthew cuthbert #in matthew we trust #feminism #jnk watches awae

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aweebwrites · 6 years ago

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Side-Effects (The Fic)

“Lloyd. Let Kai know that breakfast will be ready in a moment.” Sensei Wu says, sipping his tea as Zane attended to breakfast with Nya watching him idly nearby.

While Zane couldn't be trusted with fire, he was the only one who could cook meals without forgetting about it, being too impatient or making it taste like fresh garbage. They never pressure him however. They were just as fine taking turns heading out to Ninjago City to pick something up but Zane had those days where he wanted to do more than hole himself up in his room under dozens of blankets for hours- or even days- and today was one of those days.

“Sure thing Uncle.” Lloyd says, glad for something to get him moving.

He headed upstairs to where the rooms were, taking the stairs three at a time.

The Desert Bounty had 4 floors with their rooms being on either the fourth or third floor. The second floor was the living space, dining area and kitchen while the ground floor was the training area. Kai's room was on the fourth floor along with his, Nya's and Sensei Garmadon’s. Sensei Wu, Zane's, Jay's and Cole's were on the third floor. While the Monastery was still a work in progress, they would most likely spend a lot of their time here. After all, the had to share rooms in the Monastery and that didn't play out well as far as Lloyd heard from the others.

“Hey Kai.” He says, knocking at Kai's door before opening it. “Breakfast is ready.” He says to the fire ninja who was laying in bed and staring at the ceiling.

“Ok.” He sighs after a moment, getting up.

“If it's one of those days, I can bring breakfast up instead.” Lloyd suggested, shifting from one leg to another repeatedly.

“No, it's fine.” Kai says, stepping out and closing his door before heading down with Lloyd. “I haven't eaten with you guys in almost a week. I can suck it up today.”

“Alright.” Lloyd nods, knowing better to try and persuade him otherwise or tell him take it easy.

“Yo Kai!” Nya says with a grin once they walked into the dining/kitchen space before snorting, realising that she made a funny. “Get it? Yokai? Demon?” She says as Kai sat in his usual seat, pointedly ignoring her.

Due to all of their issues, their seating arrangements are fixed. At the head of the kitchen island they ate all meals at was Sensei Garmadon who was currently out, Kai to the right then Lloyd, Cole, Sensei Wu, Zane, Jay and Nya. While Nya is mostly tolerable, she gets under his skin sometimes. Kai just wants to make it through a day without flaming up.

“Very funny Nya.” Lloyd says with a smile to deter her.

“Isn't it?! Because yokai are demons and demons are usually seen with fire and he's the elemental master of fire so it will works out it's so weird kinda like this weird scorpion I saw yesterday that had two stingers like how does that even work plus the desert sand is so hot but underneath the top layer is much cooler I went digging around to see if I'd find anything interesting yesterday but I got sidetracked when I remembered that….” As Jay went on and on, Zane set down breakfast on the table before taking his seat and pulled the scarf he had on closer to his mouth.

He didn't need to eat anymore with his new shiny body but he was fine with just sitting and watching the others. Yes, he missed it sometimes, being able to eat but not for long.

“Thank you for the meal Zane.” Sensei Wu says and all but Cole echoed the same.

He only huffed and begrudgingly began eating. He still hasn't forgotten that argument they had 6 months back and while he couldn't remember the details, he remembered he was still mad at him.

I don't want to be.

His food was great however, not that he'd tell him that.

But I want to.

“What are we doing today Sensei?” Nya asked him, cutting random shapes into her eggs.

“Today is meditation Monday.” Wu announced.

“Meditation?! I hate meditation! It's always sit still and clear your mind but I can never clear my mind not even for a few seconds I just have to keep going like a solar powered scooter in a place where there's no night time speaking of I have to finish the schematics for that or ask my dad for some help he shouldn't be too busy since he's planning on coming in for a visit soon maybe I can get him to bring more copper wirings but I don't think I need much more of that I should ask for that diskjumpsprangle socket instead I could make 10,000- no 100,000 things with it like…”

“Ugh…” Kai groaned, rubbing his temples at Jay's endless chatter.

He loved his friend and he understood that he couldn't control it but it got to him sometimes. Everything has gotten to him at some point if he's being honest with himself. At least he's grown used to it enough that it was rarely a trigger.

“Jay, you don't do actual meditation, remember?” Cole pointed out.

“Oh yeah! I totally forgot like that time I forgot my own name! That was funny though I'm pretty sure it had something to do with the fact that I hadn't slept on 4 days because I had this cool idea that wasn't as cool as I thought but…”

“Shouldn't Dad be back now?” Lloyd asked his uncle, fiddling with his fork, his legs bouncing with his excess energy.

“He decided to pick up a few things in Ninjago City first. He should be back in time for meditation however.” Wu told him as Jay chatted off a no longer listening Zane's ears.

He hadn't been at the table for long and he's already had enough social interaction with the others. He sighs and stood, tucking his mitten covered hands into his pockets.

“Where are you headed?” Nya asked him, a beach ball sized water bubble in hand as he passed her by.

“My room.” Was his only answer as he left.

“Nya, you know the rule. No powers at the table.” Wu reminded her, pouring Kai a cup of ClariTea and sliding it over to him.

“Totally forgot.” Nya says with a grin, taking her focus off the water orb- and of course dousing the entire table in water, filling everyone's lap with it.

“Nya what the hell?!” Kai snapped, bolting to his feet and turning over his cup of ClariTea in the process but he was already soaked.

“Whoopsie.” She grinned as the others stood as well.

“Whoopsie?” Kai says through gritted teeth as his clothes began to steam.

"Oh boy." Lloyd sighed to himself.

“WHOOPSIE?! You soaked everyone and my breakfast with your stupid WATER!” He yelled, pounding burning fists on the table and evaporating the water there and rapidly burning into the granite countertop of the kitching island.

“She did. And she's very sorry about it.” Lloyd says, quickly covering Nya's mouth. “Say Nya, Zane hasn't watered his garden today.” He says, pushing her towards the stairs.

"Oh yeah..." She says then headed downstairs.

“Arrrg! She's such a child!” Kai yelled, flaming up even more.

“Hey Kai-”

“One day! Just one day is all I wanted without THIS happening!” He yelled, skin going orange as his flames reddened further.

“Um, Kai-”

“I’M SICK AND TIRED OF THIS STUPID FU-” Kai's furious ranting was cut off by the reinforced metal that made up the floor melting under his feet, sending him plummeting to the ground floor.

“I tried to warn you.” Jay says, peering over into the hole.

“AAAAARRRRRGGGG!!!!!”

Jay barely managed to jump back quick enough for red hot flames to come blazing up.

"Nya?!" Lloyd yelled, rushing over to the window to see if she got out in time.

"Yeah?" She says, looking up at him from Zane's garden, water bubble in hand.

Lloyd only sighed in relief.

“Holy hot tamale! That was epic! Well not epic as in good but like epic epic like that was super cool to see but not super cool that it happened though it kind was but not-”

“Jay.” Cole says, cutting him off as he took off and wrung out his shirt. “Your eyebrows.” He says and Jay reached up to touch them.

“Oh man! This is the second time this month! My mom is gonna make me wear makeup again and drawn in eyebrows aren't a good look on me it makes me look like some kind of drag queen not that anything is wrong with them hut how do they even walk in those heels it should be…” Jay went on, forgetting about his eyebrows already.

“Before you get back brother, I'll need you to tap into our savings...” Wu says to Garmadon over the phone, looking at the large hole in the kitchen area.

Not to mention the damage downstairs...

__________________

(Heya! So you remember that Side-Effects AU I came up with a while back? Here's a small fic to show you an idea of how things are for the main 7! And for reference, almost everything up to rebooted actually happened but after Zane rebuilt himself only to still feel cold, he kinda snapped and froze over the whole factory- including PIXAL and the cultists that came to kidnap them. Long story short, season 4 and after never happens. I hope it wasn't too bad!)

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maealbert · 6 years ago

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The Liaison // & Oh’s

AU Characters: Team x OC (Lucy De Luca) A/N: This is a follow up to Exes! I haven’t posted it yet because I’ve been working on future parts to The Liaison. But here we go! The Liaison Master List

tag list: @idkbutspencer @literallyprentissstwin @remember-me-forever-silent-angel @cynbx @tenaciousarcadeexpert @rawritsmolly @dontshootmespence @princesswagger15 @drspencerreider @illegalcerebral @marvelfanlife @rt8815 @punkpenguin2019 @extremeobsessions101

“Where’s Julianne?” Lucy says looking around the hospital room. Spencer rests his hands on her shoulders laying her back down in the bed.

“She’s alright. She’s sitting out in the hallway with Emily.”

“Oh gosh, I’m sorry,” Lucy says shaking her head. “I had no idea she was there until she was literally standing over me…”

“I should be the one apologizing,” Spencer says as he pulls a chair over. “I got sidetracked with Vivien and didn’t even notice that Julianne had left.”

Lucy gasped as she sat up again. “Vivien… Where is she?”

“I dropped her off with Will. She’s fine. I’m surprised you haven’t asked about the baby yet.”

“Oh the baby! Is it alright?”

“He’s perfect.” Spencer says grinning from ear to ear.

“We’re having a boy?” Lucy questions. Spencer nods his head. “I haven’t told anyone because I just found out myself. But I think Garcia’s been wanting to do a gender reveal since she found the pregnancy test.”

Lucy giggles shaking her head. “Gotta love her.”

A knock comes on the door and Emily peers her head in. “There’s a little someone here who wants to see you.” She says before stepping aside.

“Mommy!” A little girls shouts. She was soon followed by the social worker. “Look who came to visit.”

“You’re early.” Lucy says as she pulls Vivien into her arms.

The social worker nods her head as she walks over to the bed. “I...ummm...I have some bad news.” She says. “We found family. They live up in Maine.”

“Oh…” Lucy says. “Well that’s uh...great…”

“Not really.” The social worker says as she pulls another chair over. “I went through their records. Home life, financial stabilities, everything really. They just aren’t suitable for these girls.”

“How so?”

“It’s their estranged grandparents on their father’s side. No offense, but they’re old. Like pushing eighties--old. The girls won’t be adults by the time the grandparents pass. Nicholas had kidney failure and he refuses treatment for it and Kathy has alzheimer's. I’m trying to talk to the judge here about still giving you custody.”

“What do you the grandparents say?” Spencer asks.

“They want to see their grandchildren, but they don’t want custody. They can barely take care of themselves let alone caring two minors as well.”

“But the judge won’t give us custody?” Lucy questions.

“Her hands are tied. We have to go through the Maine Family Courts in order to sign over custody to you two. Which means, instead of us meeting here at the courthouse, we have to meet in Maine with the judge and go from there.”

“So do we bring the girls with us?”

The social worker nods her head. “They must attend the court hearings and bring all of their belongings that they have here right now. Once we know where they will be living, I will ship the rest of their things to their location.”

“So we have to leave?” Vivien says looking up at Lucy and Spencer. “I love it here.”

“Yeah, me too.” Julianne says as she walks into the room. “You guys are the best. Plus when our grandparents pass, we’ll be put into the system and separated. I don’t want that. I want a family. A real family.”

“And we will do our best to keep you both here.” Spencer says as he pulls Julianne onto his lap. “We are a family now no matter what.”

_______

Two Months Later

Spencer lays on the bed letting out an exasperated sigh. “Long day?” All he did was look at her and she knew it wasn’t good.

“Why couldn’t you have gone into work and I stayed home?” He says getting off the bed and walking over to his closet.

“Vivien is sick and she wanted mommy to stay home, plus my aunt called this morning announcing her visit.”

“Your dad’s sister?” Spencer asks.

“Not really.. He worked with her a lot and she was around a lot when we were growing up so I just called her our aunt.”

“Tomorrow. I’m hoping she’ll be nice enough to take care of Vivien while I go into work tomorrow. Which she isn’t very difficult to care for. She only time she whines and when she coughs.”

“And how long is your aunt staying?”

“Monday.”

“The whole weekend?! But we planned on taking the girls to the museum to help Julianne with her report. Please tell me she won’t be joining us.”

“No..” Lucy says shaking her head. “She’s coming to town to visit and she has a meeting with the British Consulate so she needs a place to crash.”

“Okay no offense, but she scares me.” Spencer says climbing under the covers.

“You know, I always thought she looked like Emily when I first met her. I instantly thought of my aunt when I saw Emily.”

“Maybe they’re related.” Spencer jokes. He leans over to kiss her before laying down and turning off his lamp.

_________________

Lucy woke up to the doorbell ringing. Glancing over at the clock she saw that it was 7am. The girls didn’t have to be up for another half hour. Who could possibly be at the door? Dragging herself out of bed, she grabs her hoodie and tosses it on over her t-shirt and heads for the front door. She opens the door to find Emily standing on the porch. “You do know that I’m not going into work today, right?”

“Vivien’s sick, I know. I was looking for recipes to use to help her get better or at least feel better and I found this soup that my mother used to make for me when I was sick. It tastes about the same, but I think she put more honey in it that actually instructs. I thought I’d drop it off on my way in.”

Lucy hears a door close and then her aunt’s voice as she yelled at the taxi driver. “Uber’s are more reliable than you.”

“I know that voice.” Emily mutters.

“You do?”

“Uh yeah.. She’s my aunt..”

“Looks like I owe Spencer twenty bucks.” Lucy says.

“What is she doing here?” Emily asks.

“She’s in town for a meeting and visiting.”

“Visiting? Visiting you?”

Lucy nods her head. “My dad worked with her a lot so I basically grew up with her and we just always called her our Aunt. Which she pretty much is compared to his actual sisters.”

“Small world.”

“Well two of my favorite faces to brighten up this gloomy morning. I didn’t know you two knew each other.”

“And I didn’t know you were my boss’ aunt.” Lucy says as she lets her and Emily inside.

“Mom?” Vivien calls from the bedroom.

“You have a kid too?”

“It’s a long story.” Lucy says as she heads for the girls’ room. “What’s wrong?” She asks sitting down on Vivien’s bed. She felt her forehead. She was still very hot.

“My throat really hurts.”

“Alright, well Auntie Em just brought you some soup, do you want to try some of that?” Vivien nods her head. “Okay, then let’s go try it and see how you feel afterwards.”

“Mom, the button fell off of my sweater. Can you fix it?” Julianne says walking in from the hallway.

“Of course, but for today wear something different and I’ll fix it when I can.” Helping Vivien out of bed, Lucy carries her to the living room and lays her on the couch.

“Hey Viv,” Emily says as she walks over to the couch with the bowl of soup in her hands. “I know you’ve been under the weather the past few days so I made you some soup. My mom used to make it for me whenever I was sick.”

“Who is she?” Vivien asks pointing to Emily’s aunt.

“Vivien, this mine and Auntie’s Em’s aunt Margaret.”

“Which would make me your great-aunt.” Margaret says as she sits down on the coffee table. “I knew your mother since she was just as small as you are now.”

“And Auntie Em?” VIvien asks.

“I knew Emily when she was just a wee little baby. I married her Uncle Edmund just after she was born.”

“Did mommy tell you that she and daddy were taking us to the museum this weekend?” Vivien says sitting up on the couch. “Jules has a report on the space shuttle so we’re going to the museum to look at rockets and planets!”

“Yes but you can only go if you’re better.”

Vivien’s smile faded and she pouted at Lucy. “But mom.. I want to see the rockets.”

“So do I but your health is more important to me right now than model rockets.”

“Not all of them are models, mommy.”

“Mom, I’m ready to go.” Julianne says as she runs out of the hallway throwing on her jacket.

“You stay here with Viv,” Emily says as she stands up from the couch. “I can drop Julianne off on my way to work.”

“Are you sure?” Lucy asks.

“Yes I’m sure.” Emily says. “In the meantime, you can catch up with Margaret.”

“I expect to see you tonight at dinner!” Margaret calls after her.

“Dinner?”

“Oh yeah, Emily’s mother is hosting a dinner tonight with some leaders from the British Consulate, which reminds me. Would you like to be my plus one?”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Oh come on, Luce,” Margaret says rolling her eyes. “Spencer will be fine with the girls tonight. It’s only a few hours. Cocktail hour and then the dinner and you’ll be home before the girls’ go to bed.”

“Of course he can handle being here with the girls...but you know Elizabeth never liked my father.”

“That doesn’t mean she doesn’t like you! Your father just had different views than her so they disagreed a lot.”

“But I’m his spawn, Margaret. She’ll think I’m just like him and treat just the same..”

“Well if she tries to pull anything on you, I promise you I will unleash hell on her.” Lucy giggles making Margaret smile. “Now come on, let’s go find you a dress while Vivien drinks her soup.” She says pulling Lucy off the couch.

_____________________________

“You could’ve said no.” Emily says laughing as she zips up the back of Lucy’s dress.

“She gave me no choice. Gosh, what if your mother hates me?”

“You may be your father’s last offspring, but that doesn’t mean you’re like him. Alright? Don’t worry about her. Plus if Margaret said she’d handle my mother if she steps out of line.” Emily fixes the pins in Lucy’s hair. “Also, if she plans on going to prison for unlawful murder of a fetus, she’ll think twice before she says or does anything distasteful.”

“Distasteful?” Lucy says raising an eyebrow. “Now you sound like my grandmother.”

“We better not have the same grandmother too.” Emily jokes. “Alright, you’re good. Now let’s go. She might not hate you now, but she will if you’re late.”

______________________________

Looking up at the mansion, Lucy placed a hand on her stomach as her nerves heightened. Taking in a deep breath, she follows Emily and Margaret up the steps to the entrance of the building. Stepping through the door, an arm was placed in front of her stopping her from walking any further. “Robert, let her through.” She hears Elizabeth call. Robert steps away to ler Lucy through.

“I know I only spent like three hours at your house but my-my you look even more radiant now than ever.” Elizabeth says as she approaches Lucy. “Now I know you’re a little nervous about being here with mine and your father’s disagreements in the past but that’s over with. And I would never treat you like I did him.”

“Did you call her beforehand?” Emily asks Margaret.

“I gave her a little warning. I want this night to go as smoothly and as quickly as possible.”

“Oh god, who invited that slut?” Lucy looks up towards the stairs to see a few woman standing close together, wine glasses in their hands.

“Why are they here?” Lucy says looking away from them.

“Their father was in the same rank as yours,” Elizabeth says. “He’s very close with the British Parliament. I take it you know them.”

“I wish I didn’t.” Lucy says. “We went to the same high school together when my family moved here.”

“Well well well, it isn’t Lucy Goosey.” The middle woman says as she approaches Lucy. “Long time no see. How’s the FBI treating you? Still working with Orkin?”

“Um no, I’ve been with the BAU the past year and a half.”

“And you’re knocked up. Who was stupid enough to sleep with you?”

“Look at her dress..” The one on the right spoke up.

“Really? You three are still acting like you’re in high school. Grow up.”

“Goosey’s got an attitude. Guess that’s what happens when you’re the daughter of a Marine and working for the FBI.”

“She’s trying to be a kiss up too. Did you bribe the Prentisses into letting you crash the party?”

“Ladies!” A booming voice called from the top of the staircase. A tall, muscular man in a Marine uniform descended that stairs. “That is enough.” Emily went to stand beside Lucy, her arms wrapped protectively around her shoulders. “Lucy, how great to see you again. I know it’s been a year since your father’s passing and I give you my condolences. I wish I could have been there for the funeral.”

Lucy nods her head. “I appreciate it, Colonel Robins. And I’m sure he would have too.”

“And as for my daughters… I apologize. Sometimes I regret bringing them with me to social events.”

“Hey!”

“Daddy!”

“What the hell?!”

Lucy giggled as Emily pulled her away. “See? You always have someone in your corner. But let’s get something to drink because I am dying for some wine.”

________________________

“Pssst..” Lucy says as she shakes Spencer. “Spencer… Wake up…”

“Hmmmm?” He says turning over and lifting his head. “Luce? Are you okay? What time is it?”

“Ten o’clock. I am so sorry I’m late.”

“No you’re fine.” He says sitting up.

“How was the dinner?”

“Oh goodness, I wanted to die.” Lucy says as she makes him unzip her dress. “First I was verbally attacked by the Sanderson Sisters and then during the dinner, I was so sick I barely touched anything and I ended up throwing up on Emily’s shoes in the car. I literally feel so embarrassed and so crappy that I don’t know which is worse.” Lucy pulls off her shoes as she lays down on the bed in her under garments.

“I wish you’d come to bed like that all the time.” Spencer says as he begins kissing her.

“Oh!” Lucy exclaims pushing him away. “Vivien-”

“Is already sleeping and so is Julianne. Vivien’s fever is gone and her glands aren’t swollen anymore. I think Emily’s mother is a witch.”

Lucy giggles as she climbs under the covers. Resting her head on Spencer’s chest she listens to his heartbeat and soon finding herself falling asleep.

If you liked this part, than please be sure to leave it some love and some feedback! I’d appreciate it! I want to know what you all think!

Thank you! :)

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dong-hyucks · 7 years ago

Text

Blissful Blizzard ; Daniel

Prompts: 1. “Do you have any sugar?”, 2. “Look -- don’t panic -- there’s only a blizzard.”, 8. “Merry Christm -- oh no.”, 11. “You’re warm.”, and 19. “You look cute.” Characters: Kang Daniel // Reader Genre: f l u f f // college!au Word Count: 1.7k+ Admin: CJ

Masterlists || Christmas/New Years Special || TDC/CNY Masterlist

the weather forecast said it wasn’t supposed to snow. the weather forecast said it wasn’t supposed to storm until later in the week. boy, if you knew the weather forecast was going to be wrong every time something happened, you would stop watching the news ...

you were having a christmas party tonight. you invited almost everyone you knew. (including your cute neighbor and his friends wink wonk) you were nervous, to say the least.

this party had a guest from basically every social status. you invited the sweet cashier who always talked to you about your day. you invited your mother, who was sometimes very snooty. you invited your college friends, and extended the offer to their significant others.

and also—

you invited kang daniel, ong seoungwoo, and yoon jisung

the troublemakers of your apartment complex. the ones who scattered your laundry around your whole building. the ones who emptied your friends makeup kit by making clown faces on her mirror

you weren’t even sure how they broke into your apartment. but, you believed if you didn’t invite them, worse pranks would begin to pop up until the worst of the worst reached you.

and yes—

you asked the infamous trio to come to the party, but they turned you down immediately. seongwoo looked a bit sad (probably since he wouldn’t be able to hit on any girls), jisung—the one who did the turning down—looked sympathetic, but did the deed nonetheless, and daniel looked relieved.

relieved? yep.

but, you, having had enough of them already, graciously (and gladly) stepped back from their doorway and walked back to your own room.

there was one part of you though, that couldn’t get daniel’s face out of your head. relieved? why would he be relieved? you and rina weren’t that bad. in fact, you two were better tenants than they were.

but that fact was always there. that one question.

why was he relieved? did he like someone you had invited? but, you hadn’t told anyone who you were inviting ... except rina.

the thought shouldn’t have bothered you that much, but it did.

the only thing that pushed your train of thought off of its tracks was the putrid smell of burning dough. and, that’s when you remembered, you still had gingerbread cookies in the oven.

and, they happened to be burning.

you rushed into your small kitchen and yelled at rina for a couple seconds.

“why couldn’t you have gotten the cookies out?!” “i didn’t hear the timer go off!!” “bullshit! this is the loudest timer in the house!” the conversation ended there, but you were undoubtedly fuming.

and, in light of the situation, you would definitely have to make a new batch of cookies

“do we have any sugar, rina?!” you shouted again. you heard an almost inaudible “i don’t know,” so, you decided to start searching.

you looked in the lazy-susan where all of your powdered cooking supplies were. not there. you looked in the cabinets above the stove-top and the microwave. not there. you finally resorted to looking in the pantry. not there either.

and you, being the bigger person, made the choice to go out in the cold and get the sugar from the grocery store around the corner. it wasn’t a very long walk, so you just sucked it up and put on your snow shoes.

the whole way there, you grumbled about how rina was incompetent, and about how she couldn’t do anything to help you out. only herself. you really needed to look for a new roommate.

after all, she didn’t even pay half of the rent.

but, the warm air that rushed to envelop you was comforting, and made you forget about your anger momentarily. it was nice to be embraced by something that wasn’t a blanket for once.

even though this thing wasn’t living either.

you looked far and wide for a bag of sugar, and you were so immersed in the search that you didn’t notice the small jingle of the bell above the door. but, somewhere along the line, you were sidetracked and started to look for things other than sugar.

eventually, you had a cart full of items.

cinnamon, a ham, a couple two-liters, a few cases of cheap beer, and then one measly bag of sugar. you were a bit frazzled (to say the absolute minimum) when the receipt came.

as you were walking out the door, the cashier flashed you a tired smile, and muttered a single phrase. it alone made your head turn.

“merry christm — oh no.”

you whipped your head around, and were blinded by the glare of the sun reflecting off the—what must’ve been—foot of snow on the ground. you shook your head a few times, making sure what you saw was real

“oh god. you’ve got to be kidding. i have a christmas party to throw!”

only an idiot would be dumb enough to walk around in this type of weather. you mentally face-palmed yourself. you should’ve known. only something like this to further ruin your day.

so, obviously, you’re Idiot No.1, but “who is Idiot No.2?” you might ask?

“hey sejun!”

it was none other than kang daniel. the cashier turned his head and offered daniel a bright grin.

“do you have any sugar? i’ve been looking, but i haven’t been able to find any.” sejun looked to you, “(name), do you think you can show daniel where the sugar is? though i don’t know where he thinks he’s gonna go with it.”

“yeah, sure, i guess.” you reluctantly made your way over to daniel, who was beaming at you.

while you walked him over to the aisle where the sugar was, you tried to spark up some small talk.

“so, what do you need sugar for? are you baking as well?” “no, i’m going to put it in seungwoo’s pants drawer. all he wears is black, so it’ll be hilarious.”

“oh. well then.”

“yeah.” an awkward quietude cocooned the atmosphere, until daniel began to walk towards the white bags with outstretched arms. to be frank, he looked like a pale, long past expired, gallon of milk.

great.

just what you wanted with your burnt gingerbread men and women.

spoiled milk.

you didn’t really know what made you think of milk, maybe it was his skin. maybe it was the nice, cold cartons right next to him. and, come to think of it, you were getting kind of thirsty.

but, you were stuck in this shop. nowhere to go, nowhere to leave from. the doors were blocked by the snow as well as the in-store wifi.

and then, just like magic, the lights flickered and then, you and daniel were plunged into sudden darkness (not including the emergency lights). you didn’t know if anything could make this day worse.

daniel, whose breathing could most likely be heard from three feet away, started to pace in a jagged line. it was quite obvious. kang daniel—one of the troublemakers of floor five—was afraid of the dark.

kang daniel was afraid of the dark

kang daniel was afraid of the fucking dark.

once again (this time trying not to bust into laughter) you were the bigger person, and instead of just leaving him in the middle of the aisle, you took him to the only place available to sit.

nope, this shop didn’t have benches or chairs, so you opened an air tight sealed freezer door and sat down on the small ledge.

you patted the spot next to you and gestured for daniel to sit. you may not have known each other very well, but you still offered him a seat. he gratefully complied, and plopped down next to you.

you chuckled for a good thirty seconds, before you came to you senses. instantly serious, you looked to daniel.

“look—don’t panic—there’s only a blizzard.” he glanced at you with wide eyes. probably surprised that you even mentioned it.

but, as his gaze drilled deeper into yours, he could see that you were more reassuring yourself than you were him. then, he began to laugh. he laughed long and hard. and your lips curled into a deadly scowl.

“what’re you laughing at, daniel?”

you spat out his name like one of mother’s homemade cold remedies

“oh, nothing, just the look on your face.” you turned bright red. “stop laughing, i’m trying to be nice!” “sure you are. if this is what nice is, then you can bet that i made the list this year.”

“shut up.” “i’m good.” “do you even know what that phrase means? i’m guessing not.” “sorry, i’m not sure my vocabulary extends that far.”

“oh god. why did i have to get stuck in this store with you?”

he paused, opened his mouth, shut it, then opened it again.

i can’t believe i’m saying this but, you look cute.” it happened. you were KO’ed. your feet swept from under you. breath was punched out of your lungs. daniel. kang daniel thought you were cute.

“thank you.”

dead. dead. dead. dead. dead. d e a d. d e a d. d e a d. d e a d.

you had just thanked kang daniel for calling you cute.

thanked.

what the fu—

you buried your face in your hands, and felt tears prick at the back of your eyes. your cute neighbors meant nothing anymore, because as you had gotten to know daniel, you’d found out that you two had a lot in common.

you thought he was cute too.

you definitely wanted to say it too him, but you just couldn’t. well, you could physically—he was sitting right next to you, and proabably wanting you to say it back—but you didn’t think your heart was ready for that.

so, instead, you faked a shiver (which was clearly false and quite gaudy) and leaned into him instead. he tensed, but soon relaxed, and sneaked his arm around your waist.

it was silent for at least ten minutes before daniel spoke up.

“hey, i don’t really know what this means, but i just wanted to say i’m sorry about putting itching powder in your roommate’s shirt drawer.”

“it’s fine. i’m looking for a new one anyway.”

“a new drawer?”

“no. a new roommate.”

the silence once again engulfed the situation, but this time, it wasn’t awkward. it was soft and gentle. it was welcoming. you felt strangely at home in daniel’s arms.

“you’re warm.” your statement was a bit muffled due to your cuddly actions.

daniel chuckled

“thank you.”

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bloomsoftly · 7 years ago

Text

take your time (in a hurry), ch. 2

this is part 2 of @ragwitch‘s birthday gift! i’ll have one more up this week, on her actual birthday. if you haven’t read the first chapter, this one won’t make much sense. love you, queenie. ❤️❤️❤️

read: part 1, part 3

Chapters: 2/? Relationships: wintershieldshock (Darcy/Bucky/Steve), Darcy & Tony Rating: T (for now) Summary: Darcy is the bastard daughter of one Anthony Edward Stark, who was banished from New York for getting a girl pregnant out of wedlock. Now that her grandparents have died, she embarks on a quest out west to find her long-lost father. Twenty years later. Should be a piece of cake. (old west!AU)

Despite a restless night, Darcy was up just after dawn the next morning. There was too much to do; at some point in the middle of all her tossing and turning, she’d realized she couldn’t stay here. Not in this house, and certainly not in the shadow of Zola and his scheming machinations. Whether or not Peggy found a way to find her father, she wasn’t staying in New York.

She wasn’t looking forward to telling Maria. Not that she had to—the other woman had a knack for being able to read her thoughts almost before she’d even had them. In this case, it was easy. As soon as Darcy directed some of the servants to start packing up the house—starting with her grandparents’ bedroom and other, lesser-used rooms of the house—Maria was there at her elbow. “Not going to wait for Mrs. Carter to come back before you make your decision?”

“You know she’d yell at you for calling her that, Maria. And no, I’m not. We both know that there’s only one option for me. Can you see me tied down to a man too scared to tell Zola no?”

The other woman only snorted in reply. Dusting her hands briskly on her apron, she said, “Well, that's settled, then. I'll have the maids pack up in here, next.” She waved a hand around Howard’s study at all the books and his strange inventions, plus the keepsakes he’d gathered from his travels. Darcy looked up from where she'd been combing through the loose sheets of paper on her grandfather’s desk. She wasn't ready for this room to be packed up, and she opened her mouth to tell Maria that, but was sidetracked at the next words that came out of the housekeeper’s mouth.

“Then we'll go through your clothing to decide what will survive the trip.”

“What trip?”

Maria leveled her with a skeptical, don't-try-to-pull-one-over-on-me-missy look. “For the journey west. You trying to tell me that you're planning on leaving New York and it's not to go find your father?”

She hadn't said as much out loud, but Darcy couldn't deny that it had always been her intention, ever since Aunt Peggy’s words the night before. Even if she spent the rest of her whole life looking. She looked away. “I'm not ready for the servants to clean up in here.” That was all the answer Maria needed.

With a soft squeeze to her shoulder, she murmured, “I thought not. Well, I hope you find something that hints at where he might be. ‘West’ is mighty vague, even for an intrepid young woman like yourself. I wouldn't hold my breath, though.” She headed across the room, reaching for the chords for the drapes. “And while you do that, I might as well go see to the preparations for our journey. It's never too early to get the ball rolling.”

“Our?” Darcy muttered blankly, blinking owlishly against the light as Maria threw open the curtains. Dust floated in every direction, disturbed by the sudden motion. No one had been in this room in days, not since Darcy’s grandparents had died.

“Our,” Maria confirmed, her tone as hard as steel, and as immovable, too. “You didn't think I was gonna let my little girl go traipsing off across the country without me, did you?”

In between one heartbeat and the next, Darcy flew across the room. One second, she was staring at her friend from behind the desk, finger still tracing the line of ink across one of Howard’s ledgers. And in the next, she was in Maria’s arms, clinging hard and blinking away tears. The other woman’s arms were light and gentle against her back, rubbing soothing circles against the fabric covering her back.

Once she was sure she wouldn't embarrass herself by crying like a child, Darcy pulled away. Maria’s face was stern, but her eyes were understanding. “It's been a rough week for you, little dove, I know. But you'll get through this. You've still got me.”

Nodding her head quickly, Darcy stepped back. Smiling around a sniffle, she assured, “I know. I don't know what I'd do without you, Maria.”

“You'd figure something out, Darce. You're a resourceful one. But you don't have to. And whenever you find someone you can rely on—”

“—you shouldn't work alone,” Darcy finished.

(read more link here)

“Good girl.” With one last pat to her shoulder, Maria headed for the doorway. “Your grandfather never learned that lesson. I might suggest going through your grandmother’s things, instead. Of the two, she was the more likely to learn from her mistakes, don't you think?” She tilted her head toward the smaller desk in the corner, the one that had belonged to Darcy’s grandmother.

She had a point. It had been her Grandpa’s greatest weakness, to always think he could do everything alone. He’d never hesitated to shove away the people who disappointed him, and he never looked back. With that in mind, Darcy unceremoniously dropped the leather-bound book she was holding to the desktop—she didn't care about being sloppy, now that Grandpa wasn't around to yell at her for it.

Grandma’s desk was much less cluttered, and she was able to pick through its contents easily. The smell of her perfume still lingered on the pages of the books, and Darcy held them up to her nose with a pained inhale. She closed her eyes against the memories and the grief; it had always been so much easier to love Grandma. Less hard edges, without the alcohol and self-imposed isolation that had worn away at Grandpa.

But her work was also devoid of any mention of Darcy's Papa, which brought on grief of another kind. She'd been so hopeful—

“Mrs. Carter and Miss Carter are here to see you, Miss Darcy,” one of the maids said from the doorway, eyeing her with interest.

“Thank you, Anna.”

The girl—well, she was a little older than Darcy, so probably couldn't be considered a girl at all—lingered in the doorway. “Do you want me to pack e’erything up in here, next?”

She sighed. “Yes, you might as well. Thank you.”

With a bob and a curtsy, the maid was gone. Deciding it was best not to keep Aunt Peggy waiting, Darcy turned toward the door. She trailed a reluctant hand over her grandmother’s desk in a final goodbye. Only to stop dead as one of her fingers tripped a little wooden switch. With a quiet click, a secret compartment opened on the desk.

Inside rested a small book, bound in dyed leather and wreathed in dust.

For Darcy, the inside of the cover read. With excitement rising within her, she quickly flipped through the pages. Her heart sank as page after page was blank, but she persevered through to the end of the book. There, on the last page and written in Maria Stark’s distinct handwriting, was a message.

If I die before I’m able to tell you this in person, I’m sorry. Look for a friend near Santa Fe. I love you.

Tucking the book into one of her hidden pockets, she hastened for the door. With any luck, Aunt Peggy would have more information on her father’s whereabouts. Santa Fe. She had a direction, at least. With her pulse pounding in her ears and her heart lodged firmly in her throat, she practically flew down the stairs. She didn't care what any of the servants thought, for once. All she cared about was finally being able to find her father. Twenty years after her birth, she might actually have a way to locate him.

Peggy and Maria were already murmuring to each together as she walked in, shoulder to shoulder as Sharon looked on. “You’ve been doing what?” Maria hissed, dropping her voice as the door opened. Seeing that it was Darcy who walked in, she turned her glare back on the other woman.

“I’ve been keeping track of Anthony over the years,” Peggy repeated. “As best I can, at any rate. His wild streak doesn't seem to have abated at all, as far as I can tell.” She held a letter in her hands, which she brought up in front of her eyes. Peering at it, she said, “My most recent letter indicates that Anthony was holed up somewhere near—”

“Santa Fe?” Darcy cut in, eager to prove Grandma’s hint useful.

Peggy's sharp gaze met hers. “Puente Antiguo, actually. A little desert town near Santa Fe. But that's a hell of a guess, girl.”

Everyone's eyes were on her. “Grandma hid a note for me to find.”

“Ahh.” Aunt Peggy’s eyes were fond. “I always knew Maria Stark had a backbone stronger than she let on. Too bad she didn't use it while she was alive.” Darcy opened her mouth to defend her grandmother—how, she didn't know, when she secretly agreed with Peggy’s assessment—but the older woman waved her off. “But no matter. It looks like your grandmother wanted to reunite you, as well.”

No one knew what to say to that. “So, what now?” Darcy asked into the quiet of the room. “If I leave, what’s to prevent Mr. Zola from getting his hand’s on my grandparents’ estate anyway?”

“I met with the solicitor this morning,” Peggy revealed, heading toward the settee. The two younger women followed, but Maria headed to the hallway instead. Probably for tea and coffee.

“Mr. Fury?” Darcy liked the man, a lot. He was one of the few people—including Aunt Peggy—who had always been willing to speak his mind around the Starks, social consequences be damned. He had a strange sort of naked ambition that Darcy admired, if only because it meant she wasn't always having to read between the lines to assess his motives. She also liked his courage; as a black businessman—in banking, no less—he had more than his fair share of enemies in the city. But he never gave up. And he was ruthless, which was why Grandpa Howard had hired him in the first place.

“The very one. He sent a note for me while I was out yesterday, asking for a meeting. He implied it was urgent.” She paused, and Darcy barely restrained the urge to roll her eyes. Aunt Peggy was wonderful and her stories were so interesting. But she also had a serious flair for the dramatic.

After a few seconds, it was clear that she wasn’t going to immediately continue. Huffing a silent breath, Darcy prompted, “And?”

“Let’s not be uncivilized, dear. We can wait for tea.” Peggy’s eyes were shark-like, sharp and piercing, and her grin was borderline wicked. She’d never been this openly devious when Darcy’s grandparents were alive. At least, not that Darcy could remember. She liked this new version of her aunt.

That didn’t mean she wanted to have to wait, though. Turning her head slightly so that Peggy wouldn’t see, she caught Sharon’s gaze and rolled her eyes. Sharon bit her lip and stifled a laugh behind her hand. A bony hand reached out and pinched Darcy’s ribs, hard enough to make her jump. She squeaked and turned an accusing gaze on the older woman, rubbing the soreness away with a palm. “Aunt Peggy!” she whined. But her aunt wasn’t fazed; she just stared at Darcy with a challenging look.

The door opened, breaking their playful standoff. Maria looked between them with pursed lips, then rolled her eyes and moved to set up the tea and coffee on the low-standing table that sat between the three women. “Why don’t you pinch Maria when she rolls her eyes?” Darcy muttered under her breath.

“Because Maria would skin anyone alive if they touched her without permission.” That drew a reluctant grin from the housekeeper, who ducked her head to hide her pride at the statement. Darcy looked at her with new eyes, then turned back to Peggy with a hopeful look. Her aunt chuckled. “That’s her story to tell, darling. But I wouldn’t try to pinch her, if I were you.”

Maria cleared her throat and handed Peggy her cup of tea. “Anyway. What did I miss?”

“Nothing at all,” Sharon muttered grumpily. “Aunt Peggy refused to get to any of the good stuff while you were gone.” The woman clucked her tongue at her niece’s cheek, but Darcy drowned it out with her laughter. She and Sharon exchanged matching looks of mischief, and a little piece of Darcy’s anxiety drifted away. Sharon had always been the quieter of the two, but it was good to remember that she had a friend through all of this devastation. Someone her own age who could understand how she was feeling.

“It’s true, Aunt Peggy,” Darcy said, still chuckling. “You were playing up the suspense while we waited.”

Her aunt waved that away and turned her gaze on Maria. “Nevermind all that. Maria, I was just telling the girls that Fury sent me a note yesterday, telling me he needed to speak with me on an urgent matter.”

Maria’s cup clattered a little against the plate as she set it down. The hot coffee inside sloshed and turned, but didn’t spill over the edge. Her gaze was curious as it met Peggy’s, and all of a sudden Darcy remembered the fond way Maria spoke about Mr. Fury, and the rumors that had spread below-stairs about the two of them. She’d never given them any second thought; what Maria did and with whom didn’t seem to be her business, quite frankly. But now Darcy wondered whether she’d be taking her away from a man she loved, if she pulled Maria west.

The sound of Peggy’s voice had her putting that thought aside, to ponder over later. “The urgent matter Mr. Fury alluded to was the matter of your grandparents’ estate, Darcy. Zola got one thing right, at least—you are to inherit everything.” The information, for all that it was shared so casually, had the effect of shattering china on the room. Everyone froze. It was ridiculous, really, considering that they’d all expected such an outcome. Well, there’d always been the chance that her Grandpa would’ve changed his mind, especially after the fight they’d had.

She hadn’t said anything to anyone about it, but she’d been worried that in the end they would decide that she wasn’t worthy, their bastard granddaughter. The one whose name carried a smear of shame that wouldn’t ever go away, the product of a son they preferred to pretend they’d never had. Darcy hadn’t ever felt like she truly belonged in the Stark family home—she’d had little fantasies of her unknown mother coming to fight for her, or her Papa stealing her away in the middle of the night so that they could go on adventures together. She’d loved Grandpa and Grandma, at the end of it all, but they hadn’t ever truly felt like home.

Maria’s gentle touch on her knee had Darcy looking up. “They loved you,” she murmured, too quietly for the other two women to hear. It was soft and gentle, a reminder without recriminations. Maria had been a major part of Darcy’s life, practically since birth, and knew exactly how tumultuous the relationship between Darcy and her grandparents had been. Not too bad, clearly, or at least not bad enough that they’d cut her out of the will.

With an aching heart, Darcy found herself wishing that some had been set aside for her long-banished father. A sign of forgiveness, or even atonement, for pushing him away. She said nothing of her thoughts, though. Patting Maria’s hand, she offered a nod and a subdued smile and turned back to Peggy. “And once Zola finds out—”

“He won’t stop,” Peggy confirmed. “He’ll get much worse, if anything. His methods have been fairly subdued until now. But if he thinks he can force you into marriage, well…there’s nothing he won’t do.” The words she wasn’t saying hung in the air over them, and Darcy and Sharon both shuddered. They’d heard the horror stories.

“But the good news, if you wish to call it that, is that a marriage, forced or otherwise, is his only option. Your grandparents named me your guardian until your twenty-fifth birthday or marriage, whichever comes sooner.”

“What does that mean, exactly?”

Peggy took one long drink from and set the empty cup on the plate with a decisive click. “Might as well get all the details out of the way, hadn’t we? Then we’ll know what we’re working with, here. Better call for more tea, Maria. This is going to take a while.”

The explanation was a long one, if only because Darcy was new to discussions of inheritance and legal verbiage. In the end, the Carters stayed all day and well into evening. There was a tense moment, right when they were discussing the arrangements that Peggy would have to make with Mr. Fury before Darcy set out west, when a maid scratched at the door. “Mr. Arnim Zola is at the door, Miss. He asked if you’re available to receive him.”

Everyone looked at her in silence, and it took Darcy a second to realize that she was the mistress of the house, now, even if Aunt Peggy was over for a visit. “Please tell him I’m indisposed, Beth.” The girl curtsied and went on her way, but the little ball of terror she’d felt at hearing Zola’s name didn’t fade.

When she turned back, there was a sympathetic glint in Aunt Peggy’s eyes. It was immediately swept away in the wake of pure determination. “Whatever you do, Darcy-girl, don’t let him in. Pretend to be ill or overcome by grief or whatever you have to do, but do not allow him entrance. Cease to go out altogether, if you must—actually, it would be best not to tell anyone of your plans, other than those already in the room. Zola has eyes and ears everywhere. I cannot stress how conniving that man can be, and how dangerous he is to your future.”

She already knew—that one conversation from the night before was enough to last Darcy a lifetime. Instead of saying so, she simply nodded her head in agreement. “I understand, Aunt Peggy.”

“Good. Then I will work with Nicholas on the legal aspect of things, Sharon will keep her ear to the ground on her social outings, to see if Zola has been stupid and let something slip. And you and Maria will sort out the house, Darcy. Decide what you want to keep, what you want to take with you, and what you would like me to sell for you. And I will take care of the rest.”

That was the plan.

And it was a good one, for Darcy’s physical and mental health. It was a huge task, to decide to pick up and move west. There was the house and the servants and all of her grandparents’ things—and her father’s, which she’d found hidden away in one of the attics—and even if Peggy could technically handle all of it, Darcy didn’t feel right leaving it all behind without a backwards glance. And she was grateful, too, for the time to breathe, to acclimate herself to the idea of moving west. Perhaps for the rest of her life, when all she’d ever known was New York. It was a daunting thought.

So, all in all, Darcy was in favor of the plan. And for a couple of weeks it went very well, and nothing seemed like it could possibly go wrong: there was not a peep from Zola and Peggy worked with Mr. Fury to make sure everything was in order, while Darcy and Maria took charge of packing up the house, divvying it into what would be kept for Darcy and what would be sold at auction. She should’ve known that it couldn’t be that simple, but she was caught up in the relative ease of the entire process.

Until, that is, someone decided to set the house on fire.

#wintershieldshock #darcy x bucky x steve #darcyland #darcy is tony's daughter #queenie and bloom forever #old west!au #fic update #take your time in a hurry

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sincerelyilea · 5 years ago

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Para Kay Axel

I met you exactly 11 months, 1 week, and 1 day ago. How have you been? The last time I talked to you was 4 months ago, on your birthday when I greeted you. From what I see on your social media, you seem pretty happy with your girlfriend. I’m happy for you. I really am. But there are your occasional “big sad” tweets. I hope you’re doing better in that regard, buddy.

I am writing this letter because I feel like I never got to fully acknowledge my feelings and thoughts about what happened between us, because it was either to painful or tiring. So now I will, because I want to leave all of that in 2019. I wanna start fresh this 2020. Hopefully, with Evo. So, yeah. Here goes:

I knew from the start that what we had was unconventional. I guess I was so on guard, because you were my first. Up to this day, I don’t know if my being on guard was a good thing or a bad thing. Did it hinder us from becoming more? Probably. But did it save me from a worse pain? Very likely. I didn’t let myself love you because my gut always told me that something was off. Something about us just didn’t feel right. I think you knew that, too. I don’t know if you ever really meant it when you said you loved me.

I know we were both tired of the fights. Oh, god, the fights. It’s like we couldn’t go a week without fighting about something. You’d get on my nerves or I would get on yours. We both know that there were times wherein the most logical thing we could have done was to end it. We both tried to, I think. And at some point I think we both begged for the other to stay - promising we would make it work. That we’d be better. Try harder. I swear to god I tried. I tried to be more understanding. Calmer. Loving. What you wanted me to be. I promised you I was gonna see us to the end. But somewhere, somehow, we plateaued. That’s what you said - we plateaued. Maybe I was in shock, because I was trying my best. But it wasn’t coming across? I tried, Axel. I really did. But did you? During the latter part of our relationship, you were so angry all the time. Minor mistakes I did would piss you off. It was hard to be around you, but I still wanted you. I kept thinking we just had to try harder and communicate better. But then you left. You ended things three times in the span of one week. You only came back twice. Tell me, why’d you keep me around? I was ready to let you go. Was it because I was someone convenient? Someone you slept and woke up with. Someone you were intimate with. Someone who was there for you when you needed to unload feelings about your Mom and your acads. Was I just someone you talked to when you had no one?

Alam ko naging toxic din ako. Naging toxic tayo sa isa’t-isa. May mga bagay kang nagawa na never kong maiintindihan kung bakit mo nagawa. I was so angry and hurt, because I felt like I deserved an explanation, but I never got one. Was I that expendable? Did none of your words and promises mean anything anymore? I know I made mistakes, but I owned up to them, because I promised I would do my best to make us work. But I think that meant jackshit to you. I had to find out through your Twitter??? I will never understand how you could have done that to me. But anyway, I am not writing this letter to talk shit about you (although I already kind of did. Tough shit, bro).

This is me saying goodbye. This is where I leave you, Axel. It might be hard to believe, but I think I’m not angry at you or at what happened anymore. I hope it’s because I’ve moved on, and not just because I’m happy with Evo. But for what it’s worth, thank you. Thank you for what was and for what never will be. We had our moments, and there were times I thought what I felt was love. You know there were times wherein I almost said it. But I’m glad I didn’t, because looking back, I know I would not have meant it. Thank you for leaving when you did and for not coming back when I begged to get back together. If you had said yes, we would have probably ended up worse. So thank you from saving me from myself and probably a lot more pain. I don’t think I regret meeting you and being with you. Maybe some parts I do regret. But I don’t know if I would have met Evo if I wasn’t in such a shitty place after what happened to us. If meeting Evo meant I had to go through what we had again, I would do it in a heartbeat. Because of you, I now know how I don’t deserve to be treated in a relationship. No offence, dude. What you did in no way absolves me of what I did. But at least I had the balls to admit it. Okay, I’m getting sidetracked again. Sorry. But for reals, thank you for what we had, whatever it was and however brief it was. There is one thing I learned from you - it’s that we can always be better. I try to be. I hope you still do, too

Goodluck with your life, your music, your family, your acads, your girlfriend. Thanks for being part of my 2019.

#personal #for that guy

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cakelanguage · 7 years ago

Note

Hey whenever you get some spare time (I know it's a long shot for you I know pls pace yourself) but could I just ask u to write me something w bros! Ichigo and Rukia not being able to see each other for a long time and then reuniting? I miss bleach and I miss my friends and if I can't see you guys then projecting is my next best coping mechanism

ABSOLUTELY MY DUDE! I miss you so much ;-; I hope you enjoy this reunion fic (I may or may not have slipped in a ship or two oops). Also, sorry for any errors I only got like two hours of sleep last night, but I tried to proof read it so hopefully it’s okay.

You can also read on AO3

Real world stuff kind of took priority in Ichigo’s life fora while once he started actively trying to get his medical license. Sure hestill had time to quickly dart off and destroy a few hollows every now and thenbut even that was getting hard to do while trying to balance all his classesand his part-time job. Therefore while he was focused on succeeding in class,his social life dwindled far below what it used to be. This included visitingone of his best friends: Rukia.

See, Rukia was also busy trying to learn the ropes to being avice-captain and fill in the shoes that Kaien had occupied all those years ago.From the few smidges of information Ichigo managed to pry out of Orihime on hislatest visit to the bakery she worked at, she was doing an excellent job andher squad respected her authority. And while he was happy for her and happywith what he was doing he felt lonely.

The last time he had gone this long without seeing Rukia waswhen he lost his powers which left him unsettled and sometimes made himhyperfocused on the presence of Zangetsu and Tensa in his soul. His friends hadbrought it up a few times, that he needed to take a break and go visit, but healways had an excuse it seemed whether it be work or school.

But after a couple weeks into his third semester he receiveda text from Rukia.

It was a straightforward text, very Rukia bluntness thatbasically said that he needed to get off his butt and come see her because she’dtaken time off but couldn’t get clearance to take a trip to the world of theliving at the moment. Apparently it was much easier to get clearance when youwere an unseated officer of a division because power levels didn’t have to beblocked or whatever in the same way.

Ichigo was kind of thankful that he didn’t have tounderstand how Soul Society worked.

He made the arrangements with his work, promising to work anextra shift or two when he came back but they waved him off. Apparently he wasone of the few who hadn’t taken any time off before and they had debated onforcing him to take an off day. He tirelessly worked until the late hours ofthe night before to finish all of his homework before leaving in the morning.

He was finally going to see Rukia again after all this time.

Getting to Soul Society was relatively easy. It was dodgingeveryone so they didn’t sidetrack him on his way to see Rukia that was the hardpart. He liked a good number of the soul reapers, but that didn’t mean hewanted to talk to them right now. He had more important matters to deal with.

Seireitei looked the same, not that he expected otherwise.When eternity stretched out that far he supposed it would be hard to reallyacknowledge how much time had gone by. He enjoyed his stroll through thestreets leading to the Thirteenth Division. While it was Rukia’s off day hedoubted that she’d have left the barracks to return to the Kuchiki FamilyManor. Something about it being too fancy for her sometimes or something. Hewaved good-naturedly at the few squad members he passed who hesitantly wavedback.

It was sometimes hilarious to be so highly regardedespecially when they gave him the bug-eyed look after he acknowledged them.Maybe Ishida was right, maybe his head had swelled a little with all thepraise, not that he’d ever admit that to his face.

Without realizing it he’d made it to the gardens that were locatedjust outside the captain and vice- captain quarters. The water in the pond andthe rustling of the trees created a peaceful ambiance that Ichigo hadn’trealized he missed. His life now usually consisted of long, grueling lectureson the body and medicine with the cacophony of other student’s chatter fillingthe silence.

Suddenly he was tackled by a blur that had him stumbling andscrambling to find his footing. When he’d steady himself he turned his gaze tothe person who was now wrapped around him.

His face softened and a smile crept up at the corners of hismouth. “Rukia,” he said, wrapping his arms around her and giving her a softsqueeze. She seemed to have grown a little since he’d last seen her based on whereher arms were on his body. Not that would stop him from calling her a midget torile her up.

A mumbled conversation barely met his ears and he laughed. “Mightwanna speak up, midget.”

A light headbutt was all he got for his ribbing, but hegrinned all the same.

Rukia pulled away slightly. “I said I missed you, you idiot,”she said.

Ichigo grinned. “I missed you too.”

The two fell into a serene silence, just holding each othercomfortably as if afraid that if they let go the other would disappear. Slowly,Ichigo managed to get them down on the ground before letting Rukia go. He tooka minute to really take in Rukia now.

As he thought, she’d grown a little. The baby fat that hadgiven her a childlike appearance had completely disappeared leaving behind amore angular jawline and sharp cheekbones reminiscent of her brother. Eithershe hadn’t grown a lot or she’d requested a new uniform be made for her. Whatreally caught Ichigo’s attention was her hair. He’d only ever seen her with onehairstyle, the ends flicking outward in a swoop, but not anymore. She’d cut itinto a bob, the strands brushing against her jaw. From what he’d seen in Ishida’smagazines, lots of girls were turning to the style.

“You cut your hair,” he finally said, breaking the silence. “Itlooks nice like that.”

Rukia blushed. “Yeah, I got it cut last time Orihime came tovisit.”

“Orihime comes to visit you?”

“W-well sometimes, she has more free time and likes to bringlittle gifts when she comes.”

Ichigo smirked. “So, you guys go out together?”

Rukia raised an eyebrow. “Yes?”

“Like a date?”

Rukia’s eyes widened and she sputtered while Ichigo burstinto laughter. “I-I—N-no it’s just—Orihime and I—“

Ichigo waved his hand as if to brush away her excuses. “I’msorry I’m just teasing you, but it’d be fine if you were going on dates.Orihime’s a sweet girl, she’d be good for you.”

Rukia grumbled the blush still dark on her pale face. “And Uryu?”

Ichigo cocked his head. “What about him?”

“Orihime’s been telling me how much time you guys have beenspending together.” She waggled her eyebrows playfully. “Lots of alone time.”

It was Ichigo’s turn to flush at the comment and he felt afunny fluttering in his stomach at the accusation. “We’re in medical schooltogether, of course we spend alone time together.”

Rukia hummed skeptically. “Oh of course, that’s definitelywhy you two went to the last festival together.”

Ichigo stared. “How do you know about that?”

“Orihime.”

Ichigo sighed and ruffled his hair. “We did go together, but uh- I don’t think it really meant anything toIshida.”

“Ooh, you’ve graduated to using ‘Ishida’ now?”

Ichigo rolled his eyes. “Yes I call him Ishida now. Didn’treally think I could keep calling him Uryu, considering,” he gestured to hisheart, “y’know?”

She snickered. “That’s so cute, Ichigo.”

“Oh shut up.”

They fell back into tranquil silence and updates on theirlives with ease. It felt so natural to talk to Rukia, he didn’t feel the needto force the conversation along or fill the silence when it fell between them.It was almost as if no time had passed. He hadn’t registered how much he’dtruly missed her in his life until they were reunited.

They’d ended up lying down at some point and Ichigo turnedhis attention from the gently floating clouds to look at his best friend again.

“Hey Rukia,” Ichigo said softly, his voice nary a whisper inthe wind. She turned her head towards him raising an eyebrow in confusion. Hesmiled softly and turned his attention back to the clouds. “I really did missyou.”

Rukia smiled before she too turned her attention to the sky.“I missed you too, Ichigo.”

Ichigo felt all the tension he’d unknowingly been carryingleave him and chuckled. No matter how far or how long it’s been, true friendsfall back into the puzzle of your life and snuggle close to your heart.

#bleach fic #fanfic #ichigo kurosaki #rukia kuchiki #rukihime #ichiishi #teasing #it's cute #fluff #fluff and humor #reunion fic #everything is nice #it's just a cute fic #my fic

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rabidwrestlingfan · 7 years ago

Text

Making You Cry

Author's note: I have no idea where this came from. It just hit me. Have some angsty as fuck Tyler Bate. Hope you guys enjoy! - Blue "Time won't fly, it's like I'm paralyzed by it I'd like to be my old self again, but I'm still trying to find it After plaid shirt days and nights when you made me your own Now you mail back my things and I walk home alone" - All Too Well by Taylor Swift It had easily been the longest two weeks of Melody's life. Being back in Vegas was... wrong. Sure it was big and full of life, but it wasn't anything like where she had been the last year. A part of her would always be in the United Kingdom. Exploring the sites there had been amazing. In fact her life there was amazing, until suddenly it wasn't. It seemed that the almost constant fighting with Tyler had started out of thin air. After a few months of unsuccessfully working through things they both decided that it would be best to end it. There was no doubt in her mind that it had broken him just as bad as it did her. She had read once that you could love someone with everything in you, but love alone wouldn't always be enough. She knew now that was the truth. He knew how much she loved him and vice versa. They had told each other repeatedly before she got on the plane. Her parents had been kind and didn't shout any form of a 'told you so' when she called asking if she could come home. In fact everyone had been nothing but kind. Her younger brother, ever the proud new driver, had even began buying her treats and sitting through movie marathons with her. Charlie had welcomed her back to the gym with open arms. He hadn't even charged her. Best of all, not one person asked her to explain what happened. In fact it was like he had become Voldermort. No one even said his name around her. She was brought out of her thoughts by her phone insistently buzzing in her pocket. She knew who it was without looking. "Hey." She answered, trying to keep her voice level. He still bought butterflies and a quickened heartbeat. "Hiya, M. I wanted to let you know that it says the package is there." His voice sounded wrecked, and she hoped it wasn't because of what she thought. She decided not to bring it up. A breakdown in the middle of the street didn't sound particularly amazing. "I'm like ten minutes away from the house. Thanks for everything, Ty. It really means a lot." Her voice was soft even to her own ears. "Are you walking home alone? That's dangerous, Melody!" Tyler chided. She rolled her blue eyes with a sigh. "You sound like my parents! it's literally a fifteen minute walk, and I'm pretty sure I can handle some muggers." He let out a sigh of his own. "Well, I'm not hanging up until your home. How has everything been?" The small talk already felt forced, but she started walking again nonetheless. "Okay. Everyone has stopped giving me all their advice. My mom finally stopped asking me if I was pregnant, so that's nice. I didn't fully realise how much I hated timezones until now. They still treat me like I'm going to break." The words flowed like a river. Conversation with him had always been easy, except it had never hurt before now. She didn't tell him how many times she woke up completely expecting him there. She didn't tell him how much she dreaded going through the stupid package. She heard a forced chuckle on the other end. "You'd be surprised how many people over here thought you were pregnant. I don't know whether I'm more upset that people think I'd ever let you leave if you were or that it's a normal occurrence. It also kind of worried me that everyone thought that even though you had a match right before you left. I do understand the time zone thing, though. It gets to be bothersome pretty fast." He went quiet for a few seconds before he spoke again. "I'm sorry they think you're gonna break. If you.... God I feel so stupid saying this. If you need someone to talk to, I'm here. No matter the time or where I'm at. I'll answer the phone. I'll always answer the phone if it's you, Mel." His voice cracked at the end, and the tears filled her eyes. Why did it have to be so hard? "I-I know, Ty. You're amazing. You've been amazing since we met and you'll continue being amazing." Melody stated as steadily as she could. Judging by his immediate cursing he had heard the wobble anyways. "Christ, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you cry. I'm tired of making you cry. You don't deserve to go through this. I'm sorry I just keep hurting you." His voice sounded so pained to her. It only made it worse. She had already been told that he'd dodged social interactions whenever he could. He stopped going out for drinks after shows, and kept to himself at shows. Even when he was talking to others he was noticeably sidetracked. "You don't, Tyler. Don't blame this all yourself, because you'll drive yourself crazy. Besides... you heard Tabbitha. Maybe we just need time. Maybe this will all blow over and we'll be happier than we ever dreamed." She noticeably left out the possibility of things not working. She couldn't imagine things not working. They had been people's first thought when they heard soulmate. She was his and he was hers. She had moved to England for him, and fought all the doubters. "I hope you're right." He finally whispered. She definitely knew now that he was fighting back tears. What she didn't know was that he was staring intently at a tiny box. He had bought it a couple of weeks before the fighting started. No matter how much he asked he couldn't get her father's blessing, but he got everyone else's. Tabbitha and Leena's were the two that really mattered. When Melody had moved out at seventeen, with her parents blessing, it had been with them to make life easier. They probably would have never met if she hadn't. He didn't ever want to imagine that. The ring was rose gold and lined with pink diamonds with a bigger white diamond in the center. It had cost a pretty penny, and he could care less. It was everything he knew she'd want in her engagement ring. Except she never knew he had it. It looked like she never would with how things were going. "I'm home." She finally broke the silence. "I'll see you in a few weeks, yeah?" It was selfish and he couldn't help it. Whatever was wrong he didn't think this much distance would help. But when she looked up one day and told him she thought it'd be best for her to go home he simply nodded. He wanted her happy. "Two weeks and four days." She answered sadly. He nodded even though she couldn't see. Would things be better then? Would they be worse? "Stay safe, M." He told her, accent thick with emotions. He refused to say the word goodbye. "You too, Ty." She replied lowly. As soon as the call disconnected he shut the ring box and put it back in his drawer. Only time would tell what the future held. Melody had sat outside to collect herself for a few minutes. Her parents were on their annual anniversary trip, but she had noticed her brother's car in the driveway. The first thing she seen upon opening the front door was a giant box pushed to the side. The box of heartbreak. "Hey, Mel!" Liam greeted her happily. She smiled at him before speaking. "Hi, Liam. I'm glad to see the house is still standing." They had been close as kids, but naturally grew apart as they got older. It was nice to have a bond again, even if it was partially because he was worried about her. "I was just heading out to grab some junk food. Do you want to go?" He asked. In reality he knew she'd want to be alone to go through the box. "I'm good, thanks anyways. BUT will you be the best little brother ever and buy me some brownies if you're near the bakery?" She asked with a pout. "I planned on stopping by there anyways. I'll be back in a little bit, alright? Then we'll have a movie night." With that he was out the door and she was left alone. Except for the box of memories she didn't really want to relive. That's how she found herself sitting on the couch with a bottle of soda and a box of tissues. She was finally almost through going through everything. Luckily nothing so far had been damaged during shipping. She hadn't even cried too extremely. Her hand blindly brushed against smooth glass and she immediately froze. She had gotten to the pictures. The first one just had to be the one that went on the dresser. It was the members of British Strong Style with the members of The Dynamite Dynamic and had been taken by Mark after a Progress show. Everyone looked happy. Tabbitha was showing off her engagement ring, Trent beaming beside her. Leena had somehow convinced Pete to give a miniscule smile. Her and Tyler were practically glowing they were so happy. It was her favorite picture. The tears got progressively worse the more she went through the pictures that had once decorated their apartment. Pictures off the life they had had for the last year and a half. Sadness turned to surprise when she realised there was a smaller box under the pictures. She would recognize that messy scrawl anywhere. After carefully removing the box she sat it on her lap and opened it. The first thing she seen was a note. "Kid, he's a fucking dumbass. He had the love of his life handed to him, and he let you go. I promised everyone that I'd kill him if he didn't fix your problems from the day you got the keys to your flat. If not for the hope I know you have his nuts would already be in his throat. He has a month. Hurry back to your real home and help us take over the world. - Pete" She couldn't help but chuckle. She knew how lucky she was to see the caring side of Pete. He had taken her under his wing, and even she didn't know why. She did know that she missed her best friends. The box was filled with things meant to make her smile. One of those things being a specially made pink Bruiserweight hat. She was shook from her thoughts by the front door opening. "I got pizza!" Liam yelled excitedly. Maybe things would be okay. Only time would tell.

#wrestling imagine

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diamondsableye · 7 years ago

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The Ivory Parasite

It's kinda funny how your viewpoint on anything really can be completely shattered within a day, hell, usually it happens in a matter of minutes for most. Like the time you caught your parents putting presents under a beautifully decorated tree (probably adorned with ornaments yourself) on a chilly Christmas Eve. Or maybe when you lost one of your teeth and didn't tell your parents out of forgetfulness and woke up to the sight of its shiny, pearly color still resting under your pillow. If you never had any of those wondrous experiences, you are either in denial, or you had no childhood. Sorry, I'm rambling, aren't I? Well, the fact of the matter is that I am dying as we speak. (or type for that matter) I should probably specify and say that I am dying as the result of becoming a host to a devilishly malicious parasite. It's almost comical how I thought just a few hours ago that the only real harmful parasites you could get in the modern world were maybe tapeworms, but even then they're easily dealt with and even easier to prevent. I think I've droned on enough and should probably start explaining how this mess even started. I'm not sure how long the Incubation period lasts, but if this thing takes control of my brain first, then I'm going to speed things along.

To start off, I should probably give the setting where all this started, which is around the southeastern area of the U.S. I'm not going to give my precise location in case some idiot tries to be the hero and save me. Please don't look, really. I don't know If you can stop whatever is afflicting me once it fully takes hold, and the fewer people I come in contact with, the better. Anyways I'd advise you not to go out at night, actually, venturing into any dark and moist environment is probably a bad idea as well. (as you can see, I learned that the hard way.) Lock your windows and doors too, hell carry cyanide around with you too, just anything you can think of to keep yourself safe from this damn parasite! But I digress, I at least want to get the story of my encounter out there, so you know what to expect, or something like that.

It all began last night, a particularly humid night for that matter. I was dealing with lots of stress, from social events to finals and the end of school, and even a few existential crises here and there. (I have never been sure of my life or anything for that matter.) So I ventured outside to get some environmental therapy. I was living in a cheap apartment at the time, (One not even suited for roaches if I might add.) so I threw on some old sweatpants and a hoodie, before deciding to take an Uber out to the local park. My car at the time was my parent's 'hand me down' and frequently had to go in for maintenance. I can't get another car that's at least decent for not finding a high paying job fast enough. (Then again, what kind of high paying job can I really get with an arts degree anyways that doesn't require a minimum of ten years experience?) I'm getting sidetracked, the point is I was out there alone without any quick way to get back to my small flat. That didn't really register with me however because I was already in the midst of a full blown panic attack and even the few sentences spoken between me and my driver was enough social interaction for weeks in my troubled mind.

For a moment I realized that the park was less occupied than usual, but I reasoned with what little sanity I had left, that there were fewer people at night, and I usually strolled through the park grounds during the day. Using the flashlight on my phone, I decided to take my usual route through the deer trail that I had discovered a few years back, during one of my first few trips here. I should probably mention that I have high functioning autism and some various other mental issues that typically come along with it, like ADHD and anxiety. My old psychologist that had done social therapy sessions with me during my teenage years recommended that I try nature walks as a form of stress control. So ever since I was about 16 or so, I've frequented this place often and knew most of the east side like my own home. That being said, it was glaringly obvious that my small 'hidden grotto' as I referred to it, had been discovered. I couldn't tell if the damage was done by an animal or a human, but whoever or whatever had done it really ransacked the place. The overhanging tree next to my climbing rock near the middle area of the clearing had been nearly shredded in half, with deep gashes in the bark. I was honestly surprised that it was still standing. Patches of dirt and soil had been torn up from the earth and had been strewn all about the spot of land and the various forms of foliage that dotted the vaguely barren expanse. Small areas of shrubbery had been completely ripped from the ground from their roots (But not all were in one piece.) and appeared to be thrown around the site. This set of my already shaken nerves, but oddly enough the urge to run never came. Instead, I was utterly captivated by my own morbid curiosity.

I know this might sound strange, but I've always had a strange fascination towards the nightmarish and gruesome the world offered me. (Drawing blood is probably one of the most relaxing activities I enjoy.) It was this bewildering interest that brought me to look closer at some of the stranger markings left in the soft, moldable soil. I was confused at first, to say the least. I found myself to be staring at bundles of handprints and footprints littering the topsoil. The strangest thing was that they weren't positioned in a way I could accurately follow, or to put it simply, there wasn't any way that the prints could've been created that didn't defy the basic laws of human anatomy. Took a mental double take as I re-envisioned the possible movements that would've been taken. It still didn't add up, even if someone were to scamper around on all fours like some wild creature, there's still no way they could've made those prints. It was confusing, to say the least, and my tired mind wasn't in the mood to search for a logical explanation. So, like the idiot I am, I decided to follow the prints deeper into the woods. I guess it's my fault for always living in a sheltered environment, not knowing how to deal with wandering criminals that would hold you at knifepoint or mentally unsound druggies that would become violent at a moment's notice.

I was about a few yards into the continuing woods until the dense underbrush became too thick to pass through. Feeling rather unsatisfied I decided to head on back letting my tired body lead the way until some rustling bushes caught my attention, followed by a small rabbit leap out of them, startling me somewhat. It was injured, made evident by the long gash on the side of its body, fresh blood staining the otherwise clean pelt of its cream colored hide. I half pitied its plight while half expecting a wild fox or bobcat to chase it, following suit. Figuring that there's no reason to stick around my damaged and not so secret anymore grotto, I walked down the deer trail the second time that night, making a mental note to find another, not so banged up hideaway. I was about halfway through the trail when yet another sound grabbed my attention. What I heard could only be described as gargling, except it was the lethal kind, like the sound of someone drowning. Quickly jerking my head around, trying to locate its source, I was met with the complete lack of movement and sound, a silence which no one should ever hear in a forest. I started to panic, changing my leisurely stroll to a faster half jog. Eventually, my own nerves got to me to the point where I turned my half jog to a full run. At that point, every passing branch felt like a limb darting out at me, and every twig became fingers tugging at my hair. Even my own breath sounded like the pained gasps of someone barely living. Looking back at it now, it might as well have been.

I decided that I had enough nature for that night and decided to take the trip back home. The sun had set hours ago, and I really needed to get more sleep thanks to my unshakeable habit of working on projects throughout the night. I was about to call another Uber when I realized that I didn't have enough pocket money on hand to afford the trip back. Cursing myself and not wanting to wait half an hour for the next bus, I began the 30-minute trek back home, according to Google maps. The streets were relatively barren like usual, save for the few partygoers and late night travelers still present. It was only after a short while did I notice the now unimaginably strong smell of spoiled eggs and soured milk emanating from the resting hood of my jacket. Expecting the worst, I gently slid it off while walking, careful of its disgusting contents, and peered inside the hood.

It was a finger, a human finger. One that was green and black from rot and decay, looking weeks old. I threw it to the ground in panic, with questions racing through my mind faster than the lead car in the Indie 500. The most notable one being "how?". Maybe there was a dead body in the canopy above me? Somehow it got picked up when I was running? I was trying to come up with a reason for it, any reason at all. I flashed back to the rabbit I saw fleeing the clearing with the gash along its abdomen. It was made by a fox or wolf or some other natural predator right?

"Hey doll, ya looks as if ya seen a ghosts or somethins. Ya interested 'n a drinks?" A large, mildly intoxicated man called out to me, breaking me out of my haze. He chuckled heartily, seeing me physically jump, escaping my stupor. I hadn't realized I had passed by the rather shabby bar that served as my one fourth distance landmark. Glancing up at the one bright, now barely functioning neon sign, it read "Al's Ale". I chortled to myself at the thought of a balding man somewhere in his forties and who was most likely an alcoholic at that managing to snap me back to reality faster than my nature walk.

"What? Are ya deaf or somethins? Don't leaves me hangin ya pretty thing, I knows ya wants ta shares a shots or twos wif ol' Sammy heres" he continued with a more pronounced lisp.

"Oh, ah. N-No thanks, good-uh-sir." I responded in my usual, stutter riddled fashion. Hearing this, he let out a hearty laugh before retorting

"No mores al-alcohol for ya! Sounds ta me that ya alreadys got enoughs sweet cheeks."

"Yeah, I-I buh-better get, uh going." I meekly responded before continuing my way back home.

"Yeah! Party hard sugar tits!" he called out after me.

Pretty soon 'Sammy's' cries along with the general ruckus of the bar faded behind me as I continued on towards my apartment complex, leaving me alone with the general ambiance of the near barren street and my own thoughts echoing their hushed worried tones throughout my head. However, something lingered throughout the general atmosphere of the city's slum. The general disturbance caused by the strays and the alley cats had disappeared, but they hadn't vanished completely. Instead, they were replaced with something one would describe as being more calculated. It wasn't like the usual white noise of scurrying paws, and occasional growls, barks, and hisses during a scrap over food or turf. This was very different. It was what sounded like distant, haggard breaths, the creeping sway of determined movement and, the slight shuffle of something being dragged along the ground. I told myself that this wasn't out of the ordinary, that this was just some old, late night janitor making his rounds, garbage bag in tow.

I wasn't buying my cheap, half-hearted explanations, and becoming more vigilant than usual, began to look around for the probable cause. I told myself that I was just overreacting, that whatever this was is entirely logical. Within one quick glance, however, nearly all thoughts that this was the result of something ordinary completely vanished. I had locked eyes with dead ones. However, they retreated back into the alley from which they had appeared from as quickly as I had caught sight of them. I started off in a full blown sprint, nearly tripping on the uneven sidewalk. However, even with adrenaline coursing through me as my fuel, I have to admit that I was not terribly overweight, but I still was extremely out of shape. Needless to say, I couldn't keep running for too long and soon had to revert back to a slow walk. I didn't know what it was, or if it was following me, but I rejoiced at the sound of the usual city sounds enveloping the streets and alleyways once more. However, my good news stopped there as I had missed a turn in my hurry and was still about 15 minutes away from my apartment.

The rest of the trip back was agonizingly painful, jumping at every sound I heard. I doubted my sanity, but the world provided me with a harsh reality check each time I fell into questioning myself by gifting me with unnatural sights just at the edges of my vision, darting into some unknown hiding spot each time it presented itself. Maybe a rotting limb here, a fractured bone there, or maybe a spindly, Ivory appendage crawling back behind the corner it came from. I wasn't sure what was real anymore, only finding solace in my own room once home, locking the door just in case.

I brewed some tea for myself, not for taste but for stress relief as I settled down in my bedroom. By that point, it had started to rain, and I gladly settled down, relieved that I had not been caught in the steady downpour. The rhythmic beat of the rain put me at ease hearing its patter against the windowpane. It was almost surreal. The effect of the rain and tea combined began to lull me into a trance like state as I casually drifted between consciousness. I awaited the warm welcome of sleep, resting underneath my bed covers. However, this was interrupted by an unusual tapping at my window. Half expecting it to be tree branches or something of the like, I remembered that trees only tapped against the windows of my parent's house and that there aren't trees outside of the building. I jerked my head around almost hard enough to pull a muscle at the realization and turned to see several black tendrils retreating upwards.

I sat in stunned silence for a moment before reality came crashing down on me and bolted towards my kitchen. I grabbed a knife along with my phone and keys and was heading out my apartment door when I heard the window to my living room shatter. I was taking no chances and decided to call the police. Running down the halls towards the stairs, I glanced over my shoulder to find whatever it was already close behind after reducing my door to splinters. Taking off down the stairs, I tried to explain to the operator what was happening as best I could. It wasn't far behind, I could hear its wheezing breaths inching closer and closer to me. I finally saw the door to the main parking lot, taking my chance, I shoved open the double doors for myself and slammed them behind me into the creature. I actually managed to cut off some of the tendrils with the door as I shut it, and I could hear it screech in pain as they were sliced. I checked my phone to make sure I was still on the line, and I was notified that dispatch was on their way and would arrive soon. For the briefest of moments, I really thought I was going to make out of this alive. That feeling was all too early shattered as the creature started to forcefully pound at the doors. It only took a few strikes for it to force its way out, and I was finally able to see the beast in all its glory.

It used to be a girl, now broken by what I am sure to be a vile parasite. Her body was mangled nearly to pieces and was experiencing severe decay. The gray skin had rotted of her completely in some places, exposing some of her bones and deteriorated muscle. The black tendrils had actually been eye stalks and had a bright white orb among each tip, and they seeped out of every hole and tear in the skin. I could see them writhing underneath. The legs along with the pelvis and spine had been spun until they faced backward, and the neck was broken, leaving the head to freely move limply around in the dead flesh. I also noticed that the body was missing a foot and several fingers. However, that was only what used to be human, the real parasite showed itself by the various ivory, insect-like limbs that jutted out from broken arms at the elbow, what remained of the ribcage, and from inverted legs. To my horror, it seemed that somehow, the girl was still alive, as I could hear her shallow breaths as she struggled to breathe. I could see her twitching in pain at the touch of those stalks wriggling under her skin. I could hear what remained of her vocal chords trying to cry out, but only giving off a gargle as they decomposed and stirred into her own rotting flesh.

I was frozen in fear, I tried to move, tried to shout for someone anyone to help me, but the only thing I managed to do was give off a pitiful whimper of fear as the parasite advanced towards me. It swiftly picked me up with the two front legs extruding outward from under the rotting skin of her arms. As it cradled me in its strong grasp, the rotten and broken human arms once belonging to the girl clasped onto my shoulders, dragging me closer to her face. She tilted her head to a close upright position, and her once brown hair, now blackened and matted fell from her face and drifted across mine. I wanted to die from the smell alone. I would've vomited had I not skipped dinner, never the less I retched and recoiled from being as close as I was to her face. Her eyes once dead in her sockets I'm now sure were peering right through me into my very soul. Slowly she opened her mouth, and two more small insect-like appendages revealed themselves extending from the tears in her neck. Without warning the ivory limbs attached themselves into my jaw, forcing it open. As the girl's mouth kept widening, the smell as impossible as it seemed, continued to get worse, and I was crying from the horrid aroma. I watched and felt as she gave me what only could be described as a kiss of death, that is, my widened mouth on her gaping one, and having what was left of her almost completely shredded lips hanging down in thin raggedy pieces darting across my face. Soon enough she extended her tongue down my throat, far longer than any human's tongue and I felt something crawl down it, something horribly rancid. With that, the creature withdrew its tongue, dropped me on the pavement and left. I couldn't make out where it was going to in my shock, and I just lied down in defeat. I cried until the police showed up and I kept crying afterward. I think at some point they tried to explain to me that what occurred was just a home invasion and I must have dreamed up the rest.

I want to believe them, I want to think that they're right, but I can't. I can't when I can feel this parasite moving inside me. I feel what I think are more tendrils moving around inside my skin, and see my blonde hair turn dark and have patches of skin turn gray with rot. I know I'll be like her soon, and I can feel it growing inside me. It's getting harder to breathe, and type, and think, and I didn't sleep at all last night. I wonder what will happen If I kill myself, will I still live and turn into that thing? Or will I kill the parasite along with myself as it's host? I know I can't go anywhere or see anyone. Otherwise, I might spread it more, despite the urges telling me to visit my friends or family or just go out into the grotto one last time. I'm trying to fight it, but I don't know how long I can keep it at bay. I really do think yhis thin is tryun to git in m hed bc I fel ih t gt n.

Sorry for the ruckus! I went to the officials, and they say that I'm all better so no need to worry!

That being said, does anyone want to trade contact info? I'd love to meet some of you IRL, you know, in real life? Anyhow, ring me up if you want to meet!

After all, I make for great company.

#creepy #creepypasta #writing

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mialbowy-blog · 7 years ago

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Wrong Party

It became exceedingly obvious that a mishap in communication had occurred. I was, probably, mostly to blame. Though, I don't know why the noticeboard had social events so close to dungeon raids; maybe, unlike every other town on the continent, they just listed them as 'Raids', so they'd be next to 'Parties'?

Anyway, getting off topic. They were looking for someone capable of magic for a party. I excelled at slight-of-hand and misdirection, the pinnacle of party magic. Match made in heaven—chaotic heaven.

I thought it a little odd that a few burly men and a slender elf were having a party, but minority rights had been a big part of the struggle recently. Ask me, everyone should have the opportunity to hire magicians, for whatever reason. Society wouldn't crumble from a few more coins in my purse.

Sorry, I'm very passionate about my beliefs, always get sidetracked when they come up. So, there I am trundling behind them and we go off into the woods. No problem, don't want to cause a fuss. I get that. But, we start going off the track and so I ask, not so much worried as curious, “Where are we going?”

The leader—the biggest and burliest of the men, easily confused with a bear (no pun intended)—replied, after a hearty laugh, “T' Ol' Gregg's Dungeon.”

I liked to think of myself as knowledgeable about the various social scenes and, well, I did have some notion of certain… niche… scenes. “Oh,” I said, and some of my (not so much concern as intense concentration) must have showed because they all had a hearty chuckle (except the elf, who had more of a giggle.)

“Yer scared? Can turn back if ye are. Wouldn' blame ye.”

“No, no, not scared. Intrigued at the, um, new experience,” I said back.

My response only amused them further, and earned me the nickname 'Lamb', which I hoped referred to my optimism rather than my upcoming slaughter. Though I do confess, I wondered if it was part of their lingo I didn't know about. After all, they did have bears, and lambs were kind of like little bears? But wouldn't I just be a cub instead of a different animal entirely?

Back on the tracks, we went along an increasingly well-trodden path towards a mountain. Made me think about if a dwarf ran the place, and what kind of things they'd have—what with their penchant for metal and leather.

I became aware of the sobering of the others when we came close, though I didn't sense their tension and mistook it for anticipation. In hindsight, they probably did anticipate what was coming in their own way.

Not wanting to disrupt the mood, I followed behind in silence. The elf took the lead, taking us around the base of the mountain, slinking through the tree line. Given what I'd heard happening at some of those kinds of places, I thought it a plausible safety measure, if a bit over the top. After all, who was gonna start a fight with three guys who looked like barbarians or warriors or paladins, and an elf that had a giant bow on his back?

I didn't have long to dwell on that thought before the elf found the back entrance: a narrow crevice between two boulders. My mind wondered if it had been intentional. Inside, the lighting consisted of hissing torches, casting the hallways in quite the ambience. Adding to it were distant moans of pain as well as the occasional scream. I couldn't help but reaffirm that I had milder tastes.

Part of my cluelessness then came about as I kicked a stone by mistake and they rounded on me as one, with fingers pressed to their lips. Well, surprise parties were definitely one of my strengths. Hiding something in plain sight was practically a prerequisite to be a magician in such a competitive industry.

We skulked around a lot more, the elf with his super hearing steering us clear of anyone or anything that might ruin the 'surprise'. Honestly, I started getting sore feet, and the dark paths with patches of acrid smoke left my eyes drooping and watering.

Eventually, the elf really tensed up, and it looked so unusual for him, or for any elf for that matter. Always look like they're water balloons in disguise, elves did, no offence meant. Just the calmness they always had, and it left him.

He motioned us to the corner, and the men had a peek around too, exchanging serious glances.

I asked, as quietly as I could, “What do you want me to do?”

The leader held on to a look of concentration as he took another peak around the corner. “Well, we want t' get the ring off him. Ye got any spells to do tha'?”

Hearing that, it clicked into place that it must be a bachelor party. An old friend getting married, gotta sneak in and steal the ring to keep him from marrying some dragon of a woman. What he was doing in a… niche… place didn't matter to me, I'd hit one of my familiar routines.

“Just the thing,” I said, smiling. I had an excellent smile. Part of the job required a very convincing smile, because it made people relax. I guessed it reassured them, because they nodded and moved out the way for me.

Though I couldn't see their faces as I strode around the corner, I'm sure they had an expression of horror.

The room looked rather ornate, opulent even. Fine rugs and golden details—candlestick-holders, goblets, crown—as well as short men dressed in metal armour that certainly resembled guards made it seem… almost like a royal chamber, of sorts.

But I'd hit my stride and nothing could topple me. Part of being a magician meant looking confident and no one stopped confident looking people, because I made it all the way to what could, conceivably, be called a throne, without so much as a twitch from any of the occupants.

“Good day,” I said, bowing slightly. “May I shake your hand?” I asked, while reaching out to shake it anyway.

Green, cold, and slightly scaly, it definitely didn't resemble any hand I'd shaken before. Fortunately, instinct didn't care about any of that and went through the steps. I gestured at the lady, who was also green, and looked scaly, and asked, “Is this your bride-to-be?” while taking my other hand back, subtly sliding the ring off. “Stunning, a rare find indeed,” I added, really flourishing my gesture. “I'm in awe!”

The ring slipped off the end of his finger, rolling down my fingers and into my palm as I closed it.

Then, I realised that, somewhere along the line, I had gotten something wrong, because the ring pulsed with a kind of arcane power. I'd held magic items before; every magician struggling to make ends meet thinks about a little charisma-boosting amulet or something. The ring, though, took not only the biscuit, but the jar along with it.

If the man noticed, and he almost definitely did, his stupor lingered from my sheer stupidity.

So, I went on with the show. “I'm afraid your friends confided in me that, in their eyes, you can do better,” I said, gesturing back at the corner where the four of them consisted only of heads around a corner. “So, they hired me to stop you from making the biggest mistake of your life.”

I showed him the ring, holding it between my thumb and index finger, before dropping it into my palm and flicking it down my sleeve, then showing him my empty hand.

“That is, unless your love can overcome my magic,” I said, showing off an excellent grin.

A flick of my wrist brought the ring back up and I palmed it into my other hand while doing general gesturing. Small secret: if a magician is gesturing, it's probably to move something from one hand to the other.

With another flourish, I flicked the ring up and caught it with my thumb and forefinger again, showing it off in the other hand. One of the guards moved their pike under their arm and clapped. I usually got a better applause than that, but I had to work with what I had.

I spun it into the air, looking like a little golden ball, and as it fell down I clapped around it, and it was once more in my sleeves. After showing off my empty hands, I flicked again to bring it back up onto my palm, and showed off a few intricate back-and-forths between my two hands.

Nearing the end of my routine, it suddenly occurred to me that I'd have to improvise the ending. Thinking faster than ever, I extracted a coin from my pocket during a bow and kept it hidden in my palm.

“Now, for my second to last trick,” I said, once more approaching the man. “Your hand?” I asked, though still grabbing it anyway. I held it out and open, and put the ring down on it. “If your love is true, then no magic can take this from you,” I said, slowly curling his fingers around it, and raised a hand to go with some weird chanting as well as distract him while I switched the ring with the similar-feeling coin.

I stepped back, and pretended to cast some bogus spell, acting as though pulling on his hand. At the least, I did a good job because his hand jerked towards me—all thanks to his belief. Taking another step back, I rubbed my hands together and took a breath and did the same, really overacting. Another handy skill for magicians, that.

One more time, and then I half-collapsed, breathing heavily. “Truly, my magic is no match for your love,” I said. “Show us, show us that you have kept a hold of your love.”

Everyone looked at his hand, the fingers unfurling, and I shot up and ran.

The men and elf stared at me as I barrelled around the corner. “Run!” I said, half sliding and half falling into the far wall.

For a day's work, it paid rather well.

Written in response to the prompt:

Black mages use the dark arts. Necromancers raise the dead. And you? You're a magician mage, trained in the more entertaining fields of magic. You never told your adventuring party about your specialication...

Found here

#short story #comedy #fantasy

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