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olivia-anderson-fanfic · 3 years

Text

A Miraculous TikTok Account

Part 31

First

Idk what happened. I was struggling to get this chapter to reach 1k words and then I blinked and it was 2k

... sorry?

Rena was the queen of pissing people off.

(She pinned most of it on her kwami, but it might just be because she had siblings. She’d been the baby for over ten years. It was the youngest’s job to piss off the older ones, it was basically in the job description.)

But even she knew that Chat had gone too far. She didn’t even have Chloe’s power of sensing emotions, but she knew from the moment Ladybug walked inside that shit was going to go down.

There are two types of anger.

Some people’s anger runs hot. Red faces and a voice raw from screaming and tears rolling down their cheeks. Rena’s anger ran hot, so did Chloe’s and Carapace’s. When Ladybug had stormed into the house, eyes full of fire, Rena had placed her in the hot anger category with them. She was fine with that. Preferred it, even. It was easy, predictable.

But it ended up not being predictable. She’d pointed the woman on her way and waited for the banging on the door, for the screaming to start.

… it never did.

Rena hesitated for only a few moments before heading up the stairs. For once, she was glad her kwami made it so people couldn’t easily sense her presence, because she did NOT want Ladybug’s anger to transfer over to her.

The woman’s hands were limp at her sides, her head resting against the door, her eyes squeezed shut. Rena watched, not daring to breathe…

And then Ladybug’s face forced itself into a neutral expression and she headed up to her room.

Rena watched her go and found herself almost scared of one of the people she’d used to idolize.

Ladybug had cold anger. Cold anger was everything that hot anger was not (obviously, cold and hot are opposites...). It was all thin lips and quiet words and dead eyes. And it was far, far worse for anyone involved. Because hot anger was traceable, there was a distinct escalation to follow until fists and words were thrown at each other. You knew when it was coming, you knew that when it did it would be over quickly.

But cold anger… it simmered under the surface. You may be able to detect when someone was experiencing it, but you’d never know when it would boil over or how.

Rena hoped that, whatever Ladybug did to retaliate (because she WOULD retaliate, pretty much everyone does at some point and she’d already had something against Chat), that it wouldn’t be too bad.

She made sure to be extra nice to the woman as she waited for something to happen. Ladybug probably knew why she was doing it, but that didn’t mean that she didn’t accept Rena’s offer to take patrols off of her hands when she’d noticed she was swamped with work or say no to the snacks she was giving her.

It was great. Rena’s chance of being murdered was like… 10%. Which she would take. It was better than Chat’s 90%.

Days passed, and the tenseness in the house did not leave.

Rena, obviously, was not a fan of the high tensions. No one likes to be in a tense place, and in Paris this was even worse. She was practically waiting for an akuma at all times.

On the other hand, it was a pretty good distraction. If she was constantly worried about what Ladybug was planning, then she wasn’t worrying about what Fu said --.

Damn it. Now she was worrying about what Fu said.

Because, as much as she hated it, the words they’d exchanged about her possibly getting corrupted felt far more real.

Back when she had only known about the other four miraculous holders, she hadn’t been worried. He’d gotten it right four times in a row; even Chloe, who was decidedly NOT a nice person, was very kind. All four of her predecessors were clearly chosen very carefully to fit the characteristics of their miraculi while also possessing heroic traits. Why would he drop the ball with the last hero?

But, no, now she had to live with the fact that he wasn’t totally infallible when it came to choosing heroes. Had Pieris been a fluke? Had the other miraculous heroes been the flukes?

Pieris had had the easiest miraculous to control. She had the hardest. Would she be able to stay sane while using it?

Part of her hummed that she’d already slipped some. That her time watching Chat had been an abuse of power and she knew it. So why had she done it?

Because it was necessary, the other part of her whispered. It was for the good of Paris.

… was she even completely sure that part of her WAS her?

She curled her fingers around the miraculous that hung around her neck like a noose.

And then Ladybug walked into the room and thank FUCK a distraction. Chat tensed up from his spot at the window.

… Ladybug brushed past him, her lips pressed together thinly as she made her way to the kitchen.

Rena couldn’t stop wondering about Chat. He had a tiny frown on his face as he watched the doorway she’d disappeared through. She wondered, vaguely, why he’d done it. It was a bad idea, anyone with two brain cells to rub together would know that, so why?

But she wasn’t really close enough to ask. So, she was left to just look on the internet for some theories.

(Her personal favorite was ‘it’s flirting!!!!!!’. The LadyNoir stans were always fun. Wrong, but fun.)

Four days in, Ladybug struck…

How did she know? Chat screamed at five o’clock.

She groaned and shuffled out of bed, rubbing her eyes as she slowly poked her head out the door to see what had happened.

Chat was standing in the doorway to his room after a long patrol… and it looked like he’d dropped into a pool of glitter… or, as her eyes took in the amount of glitter around his feet and the polka dotted tote bag resting on top of his head like a hat that was much too large for him to pull off, a pool’s worth of glitter had been dropped on him.

There was a beat before he slowly pulled the bag off of himself and tossed it into the room. And… wow, there was even more glitter than she’d thought.

It stuck to everything about him (the sweat probably didn’t help). She no longer felt like she should be rubbing her eyes because damn did he need it more. Not that it would help all that much, his hands were just as coated in glitter and it would probably only hurt him more.

There was a click of Chloe’s door opening and the woman stared at the scene before she mumbled a ‘it’s too early for this’ and closed the door again, presumably to go back to sleep.

Carapace walked out, the bags under his eyes more pronounced than usual and the cup of coffee in his hand was the size of a water bottle. It was midterms for him. He was… not taking it well.

“Sorry, Carapace, go ahead and go back to studying. Didn’t mean for him to come home so early,” called Ladybug. She was sitting in the ladder to the attic, legs swinging idly. She tipped her head to the side as she considered him. “Go back to studying. If you need help, I’m good with math and science.”

He looked between her and Chat, who was struggling to blink his eyes open without permanently going blind.

“Do you really want to get on my bad side, too?” Mused Ladybug. “You don’t need anything distracting you from school right now…”

Carapace winced at the threat. He continued to look between the two of them before sighing and slouching a bit. “Can I at least help him get to the sink? He’s going to blind himself.”

She clicked her tongue but nodded. “Sure, I guess.”

Rena hesitated. “May I take a video?”

Ladybug fixed her eyes on her and she fought the urge to shrink back into her room or look away.

And then she shrugged. “Sure. News is kinda your thing, right?”

Rena tensed a little, her brain screeching to a halt. Did Ladybug know about her Ladyblogger days? There was no way she did, right? Sure, Ladybug had known her a little bit back in the day because Rena had often hung out around akumas for her blog, but surely it wasn’t well enough to figure out her identity, right --?

… wait, no, she was still talking about the TikTok. Ladybug looked very confused about her sudden freeze up and Rena had to think of an explanation FAST.

She pulled a bright smile to her face. “Yeah. Not allowed to do as much as I’d like, but y’know… it is what it is.”

Ladybug still looked a little confused, but she shrugged to herself and started heading up to her room.

The video on Rena’s account was just a video of the aftermath in short cuts.

“Ladybug got Chat back for that video he posted about her!” She explained to the camera.

Chat was covered head-to-toe with glitter outside of a small area around his eyes. He was also struggling to figure out how brooms worked, it seemed. Rena had considered helping but honestly it was kind of funny to watch him attempt to sweep something with the wrong end and how did he not know how a BROOM worked it was a BROOM --?

“Regretting it?” Said Rena, sitting down beside him.

He wore an irritable expression, though that was hard to look at all intimidating when he looked like a child’s arts and crafts project. “A little, yeah.”

“It was dumb to mess with her.”

“A little, yeah.”

She laughed a little at that.

He brought up a hand to rub his eyes tiredly, because he wasn’t as used to not sleeping as Carapace and Ladybug were, and Rena had to grab his arm to stop him so he didn’t die by glitter-in-eyes-syndrome.

… but now she was kind of regretting it. Because her hand was all glittery.

He gave her a tiny smile.

“Thanks. And, uh, sorry about the hand.” He looked down at the broom and dustpan he was apparently still unsure about how to use. “Well, at least it’s over, right?”

Rena privately disagreed. But she didn’t say that aloud, instead she just smiled and pressed a kiss to his cheek… which she also regretted.

The camera caught her vague choking noises and curses for a few seconds before it cut.

Carapace was struggling to write an essay because of all the glitter on his hands.

“Fuck I should’ve let it go I should’ve let it go fuck c’mon I don’t know how I’m going to explain this to my professor fuckkkkkkk --.”

“Do it online.”

He whipped around, brandishing his pencil like a weapon, and only slightly relaxed when he realized it was her. “When did you --? Nevermind, whatever.” He sighed. “My teacher is old so he only accepts stuff on paper. It’s stupid.”

Rena reached out and gave him a little head pat.

The video cut briefly to a video of Chloe sleeping and decidedly not helping anyone with anything.

Ladybug was only there for a few moments. Rena had gone up to see her in a red crop top and black leggings. She sent her a smile and a wave despite the fact that she was currently doing her best impersonation of a pretzel. “Hey! You filming a video, too?”

Rena stared at her, wondering how she’d managed to get that flexible, and then realized she was talking to her and quickly nodded. “Yeah yeah yeah, just reporting on the incident… how’re you feeling?”

She watched Ladybug do a back roll and by the time she was finished all of her limbs were miraculously untangled, which was insane and should be impossible but I digress. “Great, honestly! I mean, it was bad that the internet got to see me on an off day and all, but…” She shrugged. “I feel much better now.”

She smiled at the camera and waved it goodbye.

The video ended.

~~~

Taglist

@nathleigh @sassakitty @th1s-1s-my-aesthet1c @blueslushgueen @woe-is-me0 @ladybug-182 @cas-and-their-refusal-to-write @trippingovermyfeet @melicmusicmagic @meimei3841 @roseliali

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strangeradventuresofp · 4 years

Text

emotions (klaus x reader)

Extra Ordinary - 3

warnings : swearing

word count : 4299

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4

On the 12th hour of the first day of October, 43 women around the world gave birth. This was unusual only in the fact that none of these women had been pregnant when the day first began.

Sir Reginald Hargreeves, eccentric billionaire and adventurer, resolved to locate and adopt as many of the children as possible.

He got eight of them.

~~~

“What the hell is that?” The eyes of your brother darted up to his doorway, looking at you before looking back down to the gash in his arm that he was sewing up. “You should’ve asked me. Did you sanitize that stuff?” He gave you an annoyed look and you sighed, letting your crossed arms fall back down to your sides. “I’m sorry. I just get worried about you, you know?”

“You don’t have to worry about me.”

“But I do. You’re my brother, 58 years old or not.”

“You didn’t go home last night?” You shook your head at his question, debating whether to tell him the truth on why you didn’t. Five would catch out a lie in a heartbeat, so there was no point in trying to keep it from him.

“I stayed to make sure that when Klaus woke up, he wouldn’t do anything stupid. But I woke up, checked his room and he was gone.” You sighed, watching him pick up the duffel bag and walk to his window. After opening it and grabbing the bad in his hand, he turned back to look at you.

“Are you coming?” In an instant you joined him by the window, hopping out of it and onto the fire escape just after he did, looking over the railing to see another one of your brothers at the bottom, rustling around in the garbage.

“I’m trying to find whatever priceless crap was in that priceless box, so Pogo will get off my ass!” Aggravation on his tongue, Klaus continued to kick and throw bits of rubbish out of his way so he could continue looking just as you and Five hopped down off the ladder that lead the two of you to the ground.

“I knew you took it.”

“Huh? Oh, Y/N, what a pleasant surprise! What on earth on you talking about, dear?” Rolling your eyes, you watched in confusion as he looked above himself and angrily muttered something under his breath. You looked at Five, who seemed equally as confused as you but honestly couldn’t care about what was going on.

“Hey, you know there’s easier ways out of the house?” Klaus laughed, rearranging the purple scarf around his neck, pulling out a flask from somewhere that wasn’t visible to you.

“This one involved the least amount of talking, or so I thought.” You followed your brother as he began to walk away, unsure of where you were going. He adjusted the straps on the duffel bag hanging over his shoulders as Klaus let out a series of ‘Hey’s in an attempt to get your attention.

“You need any more company today? I could uh… Clear my schedule.” He took a sip from his flask, a small, hopeful smirk hiding behind it.

“You seem pretty busy.” Smiling sarcastically, he took a sharp breath before exhaling, waving off what you said with his hand.

“Oh, this? No, no, I can do this whenever. I’m just—“ In a split second, Klaus fell backwards into the bin, numerous items clattering and clanging about from within as he continued to speak, standing back up with a half-eaten doughnut in his hand. “Found it!”

“Please, do not eat that.” You grimaced as he took a bite, smirking slightly at first but slowly turning into a face of disgust as he tried to play it off, letting out an incredibly fake ‘Delicious!’. Quite quickly after that, you and Five decided to make your way to the plumbing van, Klaus winking at you while you walked away, feeling a stir in your heart that you were angry at. As you sat in the passenger seat, he placed the bag extremely gently in the back before wrapping his hands around the wheel. While the tires squealed on the road, you finally decided to ask what had been on your mind since the night before. “What’s in the duffel bag?” Your brother let out a deep exhale and began to speak, more shy than usual.

“You know I said I wasn’t alone during the apocalypse? Well, that’s Delores.” Five kept his eyes on the road as your jaw fell open, looking at the bag and then back at your brother.

“So, what? Is she like dead or…?”

“Of course not!”

“So, why is she in a duffel bag?” The noise of the handbrake made you look back out of the window, eyeing the letters on the building in front of you that read ‘Meritech’. Leaning closer to the windshield, you squinted at a walking figure holding cups of coffee, the man looking like Lance from the day previous. “That’s our guy, right?” You had been focusing so hard on identifying him that you hadn’t noticed your brother pulling a mannequin out of the bag that he had rested down in the back and mumbling to himself.

“No, I’m not drunk, I’m working. Yes, it’s about the eye thing. This is the place it was made. Or, will be made. We just have to wait.”

“Hi, Delores. I’m Y/N. It’s really nice to meet you.” You smiled awkwardly at her frozen face, looking back at Five to return the genuine smile he shot to you. Your brother had been through a lot, and this was the only thing to have kept him sane throughout the apocalypse. In a weird way, you were glad he had Delores, but it didn’t stop you feeling strange when you spoke to her and she didn’t respond or maybe, you were supposed to pretend that she did. You really had no idea but still, you had no right to judge him. You had no idea about everything he did to get back to you all.

You had been watching Five roll the eye around between his fingers for what seemed like only minutes but when you finally snapped out of whatever trance you were in, you checked the clock, noticing only now that hours had gone by since you had first parked up there. Stretching, yawning, continuing to look out of the window, unsure of exactly what you were looking or waiting for.

Your brows furrowed as you began to notice the rate of your brother’s breathing rapidly increasing. His grip on the eye got tighter and tighter, you thought it might smash. A look of pure panic and terror crossed his face in a second and droplets sweat began to form on his temples, sticking his hair to them. It came as a sudden realisation to you that he was so zoned out that he was probably having very vivid flashbacks on the apocalypse. As your frown intensified, you called his name numerous times, him only seeming to come back to reality when you placed your hand on his shoulder gently. He seemed to gasp for air and he looked at you.

“It’s okay, see? We’re just outside the Meritch building, okay? You’re not there anymore, Five.” He nodded at you and you rubbed his shoulder once before turning around looking out of your window. You jumped at what you saw, opening your door with one hand while holding your chest with the other. Immediately, you began to move, unclipping your seatbelt and shimmying out of the seat. Moving to the back, you kneeled between the front seats, resting your elbows on each of them, waiting patiently for Luther to get into the car properly. You giggled as the car shook from side to side and various grunts came from his mouth. After a few minutes, he shut the car door, panting, shifting once more to ensure he was comfortably inside and he looked at the boy behind the wheel.

“You okay?” He asked and you watched the confusion grow on the boy’s face as he started to reply.

“You shouldn’t—how did you find us?” At Five’s request, Luther gestured to the back of the car and you frowned.

“Wha--? Me? I didn’t tell you anything.” Luther shook his head, gesturing behind you and you turned to see Klaus, dancing with Delores, humming a random tune. Just as you turned to look at him, an offended expression slapped itself across his face and he sighed, lowering Delores the smallest bit before he pretended to feel timid.

“Hey, a little privacy, guys. We’re really hitting it off back here.” He giggled before ducking as best as he could, trying to dodge an object that had been thrown at him from one of the front seats.

“Get out! You can’t be here! We’re in the middle of something.” As the three of you rotated to face the windshield, Klaus came up beside you, nudging you out of the way gently. When you tried to move over, your hand brushed against his and you gasped slightly, pulling it away quickly as if it had hurt. Even brief touches of his skin on yours make you feel like you’re being shocked with a high voltage. A lopsided grin found its way to his mouth and you rolled your eyes, looking forward again as Five and Luther began to speak amongst themselves.

”So, Grace may have had something to do with Dad’s death.”

“What? You’re kidding, right, our Mom?” With brows knitted together, you looked towards Luther, who looked at you with complete sincerity. “But that’s not—she can’t have. She’s programmed to be a protector.”

“Maybe her software has a virus.” Klaus joked, probably in trying to make the mood lighter but your face didn’t falter.

“I need you two to come back to the academy, all right? It’s important.”

“You have no concept of what’s important.” The boy spat, earning a very dissatisfied look from the one opposite him. Your face fell into one of complete perplexity. Your Mother had been designed especially by your Father to be a protector, to clean up after you, to get you ready for missions, to put you to bed, to make you cookies when you were sad. How was it possible that she could have partook in his death?

“What? Okay, fine, whatever.” Watching as Klaus slid the door across and stepped out of the van, his eyes pleading with yours, you rolled your eyes and moved towards the door, giving Five an apologetic smile.

“Let me know what you find out.” Were the last words you said before you closed the car door, standing next to Klaus, folding your arms over your chest. He winced at the scowl that fell over your features.

“What?” He held his hands up in defence and you rolled your eyes playfully, beginning to walk with him.

“Chocolate pudding, are you serious?”

“Oh, yeah. It hurt so bad but it smelled delicious afterward.”

“That’s disgusting.” His eyes lit up when you laughed and he smiled. “Oh, can we go in here? I wanted to grab something to eat.” Pointing to a convenience store, the two of you made your way towards it. Upon walking inside, your eyes quickly darted around, trying to take in all the options of food and figure out what you wanted. Humming, you picked up two bags of chips and pack of pre-made waffles and some other little things. You made your way to the checkout with Klaus and dug through your pockets to find the right amount that you owed, but it was obvious you didn’t have enough for everything. While the checkout man watched you, Klaus swooped everything up into his arms, running straight for the door, looking about frantically for where he would go next once he was outside. Your eyes widened, running after him, yelling for him to stop.

“Hey, bitches!”

“Klaus, stop!” You winced as he ran into a city taxi, yelling something about them being in the way. Once you had caught up to him, you panted at him and he giggled. “What the hell was that for?”

“You didn’t have enough money.” You rolled your eyes at him, giving the owner that had chased him the correct amount of money for what he had taken, after finally being able to find a bill crumpled up in your jacket. “I’m really sor--” You sighed as they snatched your money from you, storming off before even being able to finish your apology. Groaning, you grabbed his wrist, pulling him with you as you started to walk back home.

~~~

“I mean, do you really think Mom would hurt Dad?” Vanya questioned. Confusion poked at every inch on your body as you watched the tape, unsure of what to truly think. Maybe your Moms programming had been tampered with, but the only person who knew how to wire her was Dad, so why would he deliberately make her do something like this?

“If he was poisoned, it would’ve shown in the coroner’s report.” Diego pointed out, a good point actually, and Luther looked annoyed.

“Yeah, exactly. I think you’re reading way too far into this. I mean, Mom killing Dad, are you even listening to yourself?” Luther was quick to roll his eyes at your words and he huffed, turning to Diego.

“I don’t need a report to tell me what I can see with my own eyes.” Diego rolled his eyes as Luther continued to make excuses. You looked back at Allison and Vanya, to see what they made of the tape, but they said nothing.

“You cannot be serious.” Shaking your head, you completely denied anything that could have suggested your Mother had taken part in Reginald’s death. It made no sense to you at all. Grazing your eyes over the screen, you frowned, narrowing your eyes.

“Y/N? What is it?”

“Look, he… He had his monocle, see, there,” you pointed. “And then when she stands up, it’s gone. She was taking it, but for what?”

“No, I’ve searched the house, including all her things. She doesn’t have it.” You and Number One shared a very puzzled look before turning to your other siblings. Your eyes rested on Diego, whose mouth opened as if he wanted to speak and then closed again, but opened seconds later.

“That’s because I took it from her, after the funeral.”

“You’ve had the monocle the whole time? What the hell, Diego?” Allison suddenly piped up and Klaus made his way to the bar, casually pouring himself a drink.

“Not cool.” You looked away from Diego in annoyance, turning to Klaus who silently offered to pour you a drink and you smiled slightly but refused, turning back in anger as he spoke.

“I threw it away. I knew if you found it on Mom, you’d lose your shit, just like you’re doing right now.” He pointed the knife he held in his hands at the bigger boy who stood opposite him and sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose when luckily, Vanya decided to try to calm them down.

“Mom was designed to be a caretaker, but also a protector. She was programmed to intervene if someone’s life was in jeopardy.” You nodded at your sister’s words.

“Well, if her hardware is degrading, then… We need to turn her off.”

“Shut up.” You gritted your teeth, anger beginning to build up inside of you as your clenched your fists.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, wait. She’s not just a vacuum cleaner you can throw in a closet. She feels things, I’ve seen it!” Diego’s knife never left Luther’s direction and you felt a hand on your shoulder as the others continued to argue, smiling appreciatively at Vanya who the hand belonged to. “She shouldn’t get a vote.”

“Diego, that’s not fair.” You warned, shooting him a glare.

“I was gonna say that I agree with you.” A small voice came from the girl beside you and you nodded at her words once again.

“Okay, she should get a vote.” Your siblings turned to you. “Y/N?”

“I agree with Diego, she’s our Mother.” You folded your arms over your chest and everyone seemed to turn to Klaus – he could make a tie.

“What about you, stoner boy? What do you got?”

“Oh, so, what? You need my help now? Oh, ‘get out of the van, Klaus! Well welcome back to the van!’”

“What van?”

“Never mind, come on, Klaus. What’s it gonna be?” Shrugging off Allison’s question, Klaus’ eyes darted around the room quickly and he shifted.

“I’m with Diego, because screw you! And if Ben were here, he’d agree with me.” He mumbled something angry under his breath after finishing his sentence, as if Ben was stood beside him and had disagreed with him and you chuckled quietly. Everyone seemed to leave the room apart from you and Diego, who looked wounded and you offered a gentle hand on his arm for consolation. Vanya stuck behind too, and you all turned to see your Mother stood under one of the archways that led from the lobby to the living room. As you made your way over to her, Diego asked her something which you didn’t exactly hear, his voice was too quiet. Your Mother’s eyes seemed delayed as she looked up to him, looking between the three of you as you stood in front of her.

“You all seem upset. I’ll make cookies.” She strolled off, almost too smoothly. A look of alarm passed between the three of you before you sighed in frustration, your feet leading you up the stairs and into your old bedroom.

~~~

“I need to finish this cross-stitch.” After hearing your Mother’s voice, you decided not to turn the corner, knowing someone else was there, who had probably come to check on your Mom, the same as you. You swallowed, hoping you could stay hidden to hear what she would say.

“Everything you did for us when we were kids… for me… Why’d you do it?” The deep voice was thick with hurt and you were sure it belonged to Number Two. Your Mother had helped Diego with his stutter when you were younger, and you assumed that was what he was referring to, but you couldn’t be sure.

“Because being your Mother is the greatest gift of my life.”

“Is that you saying that?”

“I’m not sure what you mean, Diego.”

“I mean, our father, he… He made you. When you think something, is it like he’s telling you what to say?” You rolled your eyes at his stupidity immediately, but your eyes twitched as you realised that it actually made sense. You jumped as you heard his voice harden and quickly moved around the corner to see him grabbing your Mother by her shoulders, pleading with her quietly. Her eyes turned to focus on a painting on a woman and you frowned, listening to her.

“Diego. Come on.” Grabbing the cloth that covered his shoulder, you dragged him into the corridor that you were previously stood in. “What the hell were you doing?”

“It started to make sense. What Luther said. You know, what if she got angry at the way he was treating her and killed him?”

“Diego, she’s a machine. She can’t feel anything.” Regret smothered your face as you watched his fall, chasing his gaze as he walked away. “No, wait, Diego. I’m sorry!” You groaned, kicking the wall, resting your head in your hands, sighing. Sitting down, with your back against the wall, knees pulled up to your chest, you wondered about Five. Where was he? Was he okay? Did he need your help? No, Five can handle pretty much anything on his own.

Gunfire. Your eyes widened, standing up instantly, running through the corridors in an attempt to find your siblings to see if they were okay. Shit. Vanya was still here.

“Vanya! Diego!” As you turned a corner, Diego grabbed your wrist, taking off with you back where you had come from, tossing a few knifes behind him and you hoped they hit. Your shoes skid off the polished floor and you tripped, but Diego carried on running with you, helping you up and continuing to move in a matter of seconds. You were breathless and your chest burnt with adrenaline but you didn’t stop. He pushed you further ahead of him and stopped, hiding behind a wall. Panting, you looked at him and he waved you on so you ran. After hearing grunts from your brother and various clangs of metal, the gunshots got closer and closer. Then they stopped.

You looked over the balustrade into the living room and watched Diego in pure panic, panting as he looked at you, his face riddled with distress. He shifted and the gunshots started all over again, firing right at Diego who hid himself behind the couch. You shrieked, tapping into your anger and quite quickly, all you could see was red. You felt yourself swing over the balcony, managing to kick a gun out of one of their hands, jumping up to kick the other in the chest and backwards. As one flew into the door, you kicked the other’s back, causing them to fall flat on their face while reaching for their gun. As you began to see again, you ran around to the couch, grabbing your brother’s arm and pulling him along with you, unsure of where you were going, just knowing that it was away from the gunmen in your living room. Suddenly more shots were fired your way and you whimpered as Diego pulled you back down to behind the sofa, shielding your body with his as you held onto him for dear life.

After a few seconds, a roar came from the entrance to the living room and the gunfire stopped. You heard what sounded like a body hitting the floor and yells from your sister as she hit one of the intruders. You gasped as you heard her choking; growling as you ran over, hitting him as much as you could with Diego’s help. Quickly, you stepped back as Luther grabbed him and threw him into the lobby with the other.

“Thank you!” You hugged Luther briefly before pulling away, panting as you listened to them, rolling your eyes as they tried to argue, letting out a squeal when the gunfire started back up, ducking whilst you ran, following Luther, hiding around a corner. You swallowed hard, eyes widening as you looked up to Luther, hearing Vanya’s voice. Tears welled up in your eyes as she walked into the room, and you ran out to help her, Luther right behind you. The intruder focused himself on Luther and you rushed to hide Vanya somewhere.

“Just stay out of sight, okay? I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“What about you?”

“Don’t worry about me.” You fumbled around in your pockets, quickly pulling out one of Diego’s knives that you had taken from him when you were behind the couch. “Here, uh, take this, just in case.” Just as you shoved it into her hands, you heard gunshots once again coming from below you and the sound of bodies being thrown about in the lobby. You walked around to the lobby, gulping when Luther called out your name. Soon, there was a yell and a large thump and you winced, calling out his name after a few minutes, walking back into the lobby as well as Allison and Diego. Practically throwing yourself at Diego, you hugged him tightly, happy nothing bad had happened to him whilst Allison helped Luther up off the ground. All at once, he was pushing you all away from him, the chandelier was falling and you and Allison were screaming his name. Slowly, he stood up, throwing the chandelier off of him, without his coat, revealing a large and incredibly hairy torso which he seemed embarrassed about. When he noticed, his eyes fell on Allison before he rushed off, attempting to cover himself up.

Swallowing in relief, another wave of anxiety hit you when you heard your Mother humming from upstairs. Your worried eyes locked with Diego’s and you both made your way up the stairs, fast. As you neared her, you stared in horror at her hand, the needle going through and through, pulling the thread along with it as Diego spoke to her. Tears pooled in your eyes as they trailed down to her arm, that Diego was busy cutting open.

“Diego, what are you doing?” The words you spoke passed through gritted teeth and tears fell down your face when he cut the wires inside of her arm. “Diego.”

“It’s gonna... be o—okay, mm-om.” Her eyes fell closed as your brother stood up and you shook his shoulders furiously, crying, thumping on his chest before he grabbed your wrists and placed them back to your sides. Tears welled in his eyes as you let out a few sobs before gasping, almost choking on all of the air that entered your mouth.

“Shit!”

Your feet thundered on the carpet and the floor boards as you searched through the entire house, even more tears starting to fall down your cheeks after you couldn’t find what you were looking for. Your sobs resonated throughout the halls, the raggedy breathing hurting your lungs, falling to your knees. Diego frowned, walking up to you, kneeling beside you, looking at you to tell him what was wrong. His heart ached for you when your broken eyes met his and you sniffled, taking a sharp breath.

“They took Klaus. He’s not here.”

my masterlist

#The Umbrella Academy #tua #the umbrella academy season 2 #tua s2 #tua season two #the umbrella academy x reader #klaus hargreeves #klaus hargreeves x reader #tua s2 spoilers #klaus x reader #tua season 2 #reader insert #x reader

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seeaddywrite · 5 years

Text

the miracle of us || advent day 4 for @roswellprompts

i think this qualifies as actual fluff?? someone tell me if i wrote real fluff?! i was procrastinating on some homework today & wanted to write something & happened to see someone reblog the advent post from roswellprompts, sooo i picked this one & wrote some echo. i hope someone enjoys it; i did! :) unbeta-ed & i didn’t even proofread, so i’m sure typos abound. sorry!

the prompt i chose was max + miracles, & i am like two hours early, oops?

“So you’re really not even going to put up a Christmas tree?” Liz asks, her fingers tangling with Max’s as they lounge on his couch. She’s reclining back against him, legs stretched out along his much longer ones, and the warmth of her skin is bleeding through the thin cotton of her tank top straight into his bare chest. It’s late, late enough that they should both be asleep or risk a long, exhausted next day, but Max can’t bring himself to move and break the bubble of quiet intimacy they’ve created.

Max sighs, a little dramatic, and tilts his head. “Have you been talking to my sister?” he asks suspiciously, enough of a twist to his lips for Liz to know that he’s teasing. Isobel had been over that morning -- and every morning, at least, since his return from the foggy, grey place he still isn’t quite willing to call death two weeks prior. As usual, she’d made a point of reminding Max that the holidays are only a few weeks out, and his living room is practically made for hosting the perfect Christmas meal. Whatever that means.

Liz chuckles quietly, seeming just as loathe to shatter the peaceful moment as Max. “She’s pretty disappointed she couldn’t pout and convince you to have a big party here,” she answers, turning so that she can nuzzle her cheek against his shoulder. “But putting up a tree doesn’t mean that you have to do that.”

“I’ve never decorated this place for the holidays,” Max admits, shifting in the sofa so that Liz’s back aligns more comfortably against him. “I’ve always spent Christmas with my parents, at their place, so I never needed to. Mom and Isobel go crazy enough with the holly and tinsel for all of us.”

It’s the truth, though not the whole of why Max isn’t particularly keen on celebrating this year. Not that Liz gives him a chance to try to hide that from her; he’s not sure whether there’s still some residual connection between them from his handprint, or if she’s just somehow able to read him that well, but she sits up and turns to face him, one eyebrow raised in askance.

“And?” she prompts, certainty that Max had more to say coloring the word. “Come on, Max, you don’t expect me to believe Isobel’s upset because you’re planning on celebrating the same way you have for the last decade, do you?”

The words hit in one of the tender spots left behind by Max’s absence for the last several months, and he drops Liz’s gaze, focusing on keeping his breath and countenance even. He’s mended most of the fences destroyed by the unwelcome sacrifice he made -- Isobel and Michael still watch him warily when they think he’s not looking, but they’ve both finally begun to accept that Max has no plans of going anywhere anytime soon and don’t seem quite as panicked when he goes for a walk on his own. Alex Manes and Maria both still look a little stunned when he walks into the room, like he’s a miracle made flesh, but thankfully, it never lasts more than a moment or two before they’re back to normal. Valenti is, mercifully, more concerned with the miracles Max can work with his hands, and Rosa is singularly unimpressed with anything he does, so there’s some normalcy to be found if he’s willing to look for it.

Then, of course, there’s Liz. Liz, who’d been so incandescently furious with him when she dragged him back from the grey place that she had kissed him hard enough to draw blood, then only spoken to him in sharp, Spanish curses for at least three days before her barriers finally crumbled. Since then, Liz has spent every night in Max’s arms, no matter what her days brought, and Max won’t pretend that her steady presence hasn’t been keeping him sane as he stays hidden and secluded in the house.

And that, the fact that he’s essentially a prisoner in his own home, is the crux of the holiday issue.

“Max?”

He looks back up at Liz, sighing at himself when he realizes he’d gone silent for too long again. Max knows he’s developed a tendency to get lost in thought since his return, and isn’t naive enough to think that the habit isn’t worrying the people who care about him. “Sorry,” he says quickly, reaching out to drag his fingertips across Liz’s cheek in a brief caress. “And you’re right. It’s not quite that simple.” He frowns, trying to choose the right words to explain without making it obvious that he’s feeling sorry for himself. “Obviously, I can’t go spend the holiday with my family this year, since they think I’m --”

“Dead?” Liz supplies, and Max winces.

He’s avoided using that word in relation to himself whenever possible, and it’s still strange to hear others use it, even though Isobel and Michael had thrown at him like a weapon after Liz’s serums somehow managed to bring him back. “You were fucking dead, Max! We all moved on without you!” from Michael’s lips is one that still haunts his nightmares, despite the apology he’d gotten a few days later. Because the truth is that Michael was right. The world had moved forward with Max for nearly a year. His family, his loved ones -- they’d all grieved and moved on, and now, no matter how happy they are to have him back, Max is stuck in limbo while they all live their lives.

“Right,” he agrees quietly. “The town, my parents -- almost everyone thinks that I’m gone, and that doesn’t feel like something to celebrate.” Isobel disagrees, of course, which is why Max is even having this conversation with Liz in the first place. It scares her, he thinks, that Max is still so withdrawn from the rest of the world -- he can feel her frustration, her worry, that he’s still got one foot in the grave. But until they find a plausible lie for how he’s returned to Roswell, they can’t risk everyone knowing, and Max has to stay hidden. Stay stagnant.

Quiet descends on them for a moment, the peace from earlier destroyed by Max’s own frustration. He wishes he knew what to say to bring it back, but before he can open his mouth to try, Liz is leaning forward on her knees to take both of Max’s hands between her own.

“I think you’re looking at it the wrong way,” she says earnestly, squeezing his fingers until Max looks up and catches her determined gaze. “Maybe everyone doesn’t know it yet, but you’re alive, Max. And I know that this is going to sound crazy, since you’re supposed to be the optimist in this relationship and I’m supposed to stick to the science -- but the fact that you’re here right now, holding my hand? Talking to me, after bringing Rosa back and dying yourself?”

Liz’s voice is soft, and full of wonder as she speaks. As if her brain and determination weren’t at least ninety percent of the reason that Max had made it back. “That’s a miracle, Max,” she continues, bringing his knuckles to her lips and kissing them once, tenderly. “You’re a miracle. And that’s something to celebrate.”

Heat suffuses Max’s cheeks and ears, and he shakes his head vehemently. “You made that happen, Liz,” he tells her, tugging her in against his chest and wrapping his arms around her waist. “The only miracle in my life is you.” His lips press against the crown of her head, and Max ignores the way the soft strands tickle his nose in favor of breathing in her familiar rose-scented shampoo.

Max knows that most people on the outside looking in at his life might argue what he’d said. They’d see his powers, his superhuman healing hands and his supposedly god-like abilities, the fact that he’d brought a girl back to life and somehow defeated death himself, as evidence that he can work miracles. But the fact of the matter is that Max isn’t a god. He’s not a miracle, or a miracle worker. He’s an alien, one who’s going to have to fight the desire to heighten his powers by killing for the rest of his life. Everything remarkable that he’s done is tainted by that truth.

At heart, Max is just a man, in love with a woman who’s more miraculous than anything he could ever do.

“You are such a sap,” Liz teases, relaxing into his embrace with a contented sigh. “But I’ll let you get away with it because it’s late, I’m tired, and you’re comfortable.” There’s the flutter of lips at the base of his neck, and Liz shifts until Max is all but cradling her against him, supporting most of her weight. “But just -- think about it, okay? A tree? It’d be nice for us to be able to celebrate together, even if it’s just the two of us after I see Papa and Rosa. I won’t even tell Isobel, if you don’t want me to.”

Max huffs a laugh and gives into the impulse to stroke her hair with his fingertips. “I think she’ll notice when stops by to visit,” he points out pragmatically. “And I’ve never been very good at keeping secrets from her. We can do dinner here for Christmas, if anyone wants to come. It’d be nice, to have everyone here at once.” Less lonely, at least for a night. And Max had to admit that some lights and decorations might make the house feel more like his again, after so long elsewhere.

Liz smiles sleepily up at him and presses a clumsy kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Christmas with the family we chose,” she murmurs. “And maybe Christmas Eve with just the two of us, to celebrate the miracle of us.”

This time, it’s Max that snorts. “And you say I’m a sap!” he teases, tugging at a long strand of hair near where it fell onto her back.

Liz hums contentedly, nuzzling back into his chest and finally allowing her eyes to close. “You love me anyway,” she says on a yawn, and Max is hard-pressed to feel any of the disconnection or isolation that seemed so all-encompassing earlier in the evening.

“I do,” Max agrees in a whisper, and reaches out with his power to turn out the lights. As he drags a blanket from the back of the couch to cover them both for the night, he spares a glance to the empty space in the living room where Isobel had stood, insisting it was perfect for a tree.

Maybe this Christmas wouldn’t be what he was used to, and maybe the sting of missing his parents and his freedom would hurt, but Liz is right. Max has plenty to celebrate, this year.

#my fic #echo rnm #echo rnm fic #roswellnm fic #max evans/liz ortecho #roswellprompts advent

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heoneyology · 5 years

Text

monsta x playing mario kart

whenever I’m at work I always end up discussing headcanons with @dreamboyunho concerning the mx boys so thanks for keeping me sane during my shifts!

hyunwoo

definitely the calmest player of them all

mostly due to the fact that he doesn’t really know what’s going on?

lots of laughter and crinkly eye smiles because he’s having fun!

really just enjoying his time spent with the members

he’s decent at the game but? is it just sheer luck???

he’s kind of just mashing buttons and hoping for the best tbh

ends up winning a few times, and still no one knows if it’s out of sheer luck or skill...

will sometimes run over his own banana peels

has, on multiple occasions, thrown out a shell in front of him and driven straight into it after it bounced off a wall

got the blue shell and jooheon insisted he should use it

he did, of course—not realizing what that entailed

probably pissed off kihyun or minhyuk who were in the lead

they can’t stay mad at him though because he just chuckles at their dramatic reactions and continues on!

wonho

he’s just here to have a good time!!

second calmest player, thanks to his optimistic mindset

honestly he just wants to have fun with everyone

is laughing at everyone and how they react to what’s going on in the game

lowkey can be a bit competitive though

despite being competitive, he’s actually not that great...

his nose tends to scrunch up in concentration as he plays

is the type to grip the controller a bit harder as if it will help urge his character in the game

“wonho, you’re going to break the controller—”

his biceps end up flexing in concentration as his grip tightens more

if everyone didn’t know he was a huge softie, they’d probably be intimidated

gets sad if he loses too many times in a row

but probably comes in 2nd or 3rd quite often because he’s not overly focused on winning

minhyuk

next to jooheon, is the loudest person in the room

constantly yelling or speaking loudly

really good at the game

always expects to win and almost always ends up in the top three

except when shownu gets the blue shell, of course...

kihyun is his self-proclaimed rival

will definitely try and provoke the opponents

goes a little crazy when things get intense, will often be found jumping to his feet

“minhyuk, stop blocking the tv!!!”

he’s the type that feels the need to get closer to the v as though it’ll help him in some way?

but then when he jumps to his feet, it blocks everyone’s view

everyone says he cheats because of it, and that he’s blocking the tv on purpose

almost throws his controller when he gets hit with the blue shell

probably has, at some point, thrown his controller

the neighbors can hear his cry of anguish after losing his 1st place spot thanks to that damned blue shell

the biggest sore loser in the house

everyone gets annoyed by it

rage quits often

kihyun

is a snake!!!

or at least, that’s what everyone says

majority believes that kihyun is cheating somehow

he wins the most out of everyone

one of the most competitive people in the room

always plays with the intentions of winning, similar to hyungwon

unlike some, he’s a good sport about being competitive, though

strategically plays almost all video games, even mario kart

so he ends up always putting a lot of thought into his car, tires, and accessories

minhyuk thinks that they’re rivals, but kihyun considers hyungwon his rival

he’s the last to finish choosing everything before the race begins

jooheon constantly whines at him to finish picking faster

knows where all the shortcuts are at, uses his items to his advantage, and knows how to effectively maneuver through the different courses

surprisingly has a lot of patience during the games that he’s not doing well

just don’t hit him with the blue shell because then he becomes a silent, seething ball of rage

he doesn’t rage quit or get verbally mad

but if a blue shell hits him the entire atmosphere in the room changes

hyungwon

always plays to win, and typically is one of the ones who does win

quietest player in the room

sometimes everyone forgets he’s even in the game he’s always so quiet and concentrated

is always quietly very good at the game

everyone is always surprised when he wins, despite it usually happening

this is because he’s typically lagging behind a few places

he’s actually strategically playing, though

he knows where the shortcuts are at and he makes use of his items the best

definitely put a lot of thought into choosing his car at the start

sadly, though, can be a real sore loser

he doesn’t rage quit, thankfully, but he gets grumpy the more games he loses

despite that he will always play another game with everyone if they insist

with each passing game, though, he’ll get progressively grumpier if he isn’t doing well

then he’ll end up getting more talkative and kind of snarky with his commentary

minhyuk is loud when he tries to provoke people, but hyungwon is just matter-of-fact and sarcastic

serious game mode hyungwon can be scarier than minhyuk’s rage quitting

jooheon

is a chaotic racer

actually is just really chaotic in general

always the loudest in the room, along with minhyuk

is this mario kart or a challenge on who can break their vocal chords first?

the neighbors hate him, so many noise complaints

he’s competitive but he’s having fun!

“race track? what’s that?”

tries to take very shortcut—or just has the mindset of cutting across or ramming through anything in his path

holds down the accelerate button at the start of the race for too long and ends up blowing out when it begins

starts off climbing up from last place because of it

lots and lots of yelling as he attempts to get back to at least 5th place

tells shownu when to properly use items

then ends up running over one of shownu’s banana peels and acts like he’s been betrayed

always insists shownu immediately throw out the blue shell in order to knock minhyuk and kihyun out from 1st

decent at the game, sometimes he wins and sometimes he loses

changkyun

super chill about playing, especially for it being mario kart

that being said he’s not particularly calm, like shownu and wonho

that’s because he’s competitive

and also because he plays the most video games out of everyone so feels like he should be good

along with kihyun and hyungwon, he wins the most

he’s only just decent at the game, though, winning and losing equally as often

him, jooheon, and minhyuk are always yelling over each other

spends a surprising amount of time choosing his car and accessories

despite that, he’s not a very strategic player

he always button mashes his triple and golden mushrooms

doesn’t know how to use the boomerang and ends up just throwing it out repeatedly wondering if it will hit someone

loves forcing everyone to play the snes rainbow road

cackles as everyone continuously falls off the course

ends up losing his course choosing rights for the rest of the night

will sometimes, secretly, team up with someone to ensure they win without them knowing if he’s not doing particularly well

#monsta x headcanons #monsta x headcanon #monsta x scenarios #monsta x imagines #m.writes

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lovesickjily · 6 years

Text

present: me

Summary: When Lily Evans is assigned to be a stranger's Secret Santa, she has no idea that by the end of the night, she was the gift that James Potter had wanted the entire time.

give me some love on ao3 or ffn

okay hi merry christmas!!! sorry this fic may sound a bit rushed, but i really wanted to finish this by christmas and i did it? i hope you all enjoy xxx

There were, as Lily speculated, many feelings that people felt when it came to the topic of Christmastime, a time in which everyone showed their love towards friends and family through the gifting and receiving of presents that consequently caused them to end up with so little money that would bring Santa to tears.

Feelings of mirth and joy were expected on the holiday that foresaw snow, but frustration? She didn’t expect any of that days before Christmas.

It wasn’t that Lily hated watching her bank account come to a horrible decline during this season, because the one thing that she absolutely loved more than receiving gifts was buying them. She revelled in watching the eyes of such gift recipients, especially when they lit up like a Christmas tree, and it made her money deficit well worth it.

With Mary, who was known for her embodiment of the concept ‘the more the merrier,’ it was easy to find a gift for her, whether it was one based on sentimentality or one where the price tag had been taken off of it, Mary accepted anything and everything, so long as it wasn’t unattractive in design and form. With Petunia, who was one for the traditional gifts, it wasn’t difficult to find an expensive vase from online that appealed to those who prided themselves in outdoing every single one of their neighbours. She bought an expensive watch for Petunia’s husband, because it seemed like a good gift simply because of the price. Whether he decided to sell it or keep it was honestly up to him, though she hoped very well that it wouldn’t end up rotting in one of his sock drawers.

Now, shopping for a stranger was something entirely on its own.

She’d no idea what Remus had been thinking to invite her to a party where she knew only one person and was even more confused when everyone was assigned a person at random to bring a gift to. From the conversations in the group chat that she had been added to, she could tell that everyone else knew one another well enough, if one could conclude from the jabs that ‘Prongs’ and ‘Padfoot’ continuously sent towards one another.

Eventually, that chat was put on mute, and she’d told Remus— as well as Sirius Black, who was apparently the host of the party— to inform her of any updates about the party. Asking the latter, it seemed, had turned out to be a poor decision on her part, because it seemed as if his sole intent on living was to pester her to the point that she often found her finger hovering over the ‘block contact’ button, only to stop since he unfortunately was the host. There was also the fact that clicking such a simple button was probably exactly what he wanted, and she was definitely not going to let this stranger win.

The last thing that she wanted was to show up in front of his house and be greeted with an infuriatingly cocky on his face.

On the other hand, the first thing that she wanted now at this very moment was to know what exactly to get whoever this ‘James Potter’ person wanted for a gift, but asking Constellation Boy only resulted in responses such as “He wants you for Christmas” with an absurd amount of winking faces.

If she was to browse the Internet in search of gifts to give to strangers, what if there was the chance that he was also her Secret Santa and was on that very same website?

No, she was going to put her utmost creativity into this gift, whatever it may be.

The only question was how she was going to do that.

She couldn’t exactly throw some sentimental value into it, not when there was no sentimental value to be thrown in the first place, but she didn’t want to at all give him something cheaply overdone, like an expensive bottle of perfume or wine. There were rules about gifts, and there was unanimous agreement that one should never get a person such items for Christmas— that is, unless their name was Vernon Dursley.

It was in these moments that she’d taken advantage of the annoying group chat— currently named “Jingle My Balls,” and she could bet all the toys in the world on who had decided to name it that— to scour for any valuable information that could give her an idea of what James Potter had an interest in.

Deer, it seemed.

Lots and lots and lots of deer.

She couldn’t understand his obvious fixation for deer and its venison counterparts, but she sincerely hoped that Remus wasn’t acquainted with someone who prided himself in the slaughtering of deer just for the fun of it. It could help to explain his ridiculous nickname, and she’d almost roped herself into believing that Remus Lupin was the only sane one in their friend group, only to learn that he had been named for a reason that could only be related to the act of mooning.

If she were to get James some sort of food for Christmas, it surely was not going to be of the venison sort.

Perhaps she’d bake cookies for him and call it a day, but they didn’t last forever, not unless he decided to preserve it for reasons unbeknownst to her, and she wanted to create a lasting first impression on him.

James Potter, what in the world could you want?

Could he be interested in pottery, if one could go by his last name?

Obviously, she wasn’t going to put minimal effort into his gift, and he obviously was far from a Petunia, so a ceramic vase— no matter how expensive it was— was just not going to make do. There was nothing wrong with homemade items, and she’d actually greatly prefer homemade objects over the store-bought pieces.

Perhaps…?

Hopefully, he’d love what she had planned for him.

The final obstacle remaining was that she’d never in her life taken a pottery class.

+++

There was a difference between going all out and doing exactly what it was that this household had seemed to do when it came for Christmas decorations.

Lily liked to think that she fell in the former category, having decorated nearly every inch of her flat with pretty fairy lights and a giant Christmas tree in the corner of every room, and even the bathroom contained a small Christmas tree resting atop the counter. Tinsel lined the tops of the mock fireplace in their living room, and in every part of the flat, there was some Christmas decoration of some sort.

But this house— mansion?

It was on a completely different spectrum of its own.

The front lawn seemed as if it had taken everything that could be seen in the Christmas outdoor section featured at every store, and in places where snow hadn’t fallen, fake snow was used to create the illusion that the place was a magical castle in a kingdom where winter was eternal. There were, of course, a line of deer made entirely out of lights lining up the pathway, and at the very end stood a dog made of lights and a pair of antlers atop the animal.

If she had any doubts about whether or not she’d come to the right place, then these doubts were put at ease.

“This is the place,” she said to Mary, though it came out more as a question rather than anything else.

“The one and only.”

“Are you sure we aren’t— I don’t know— planning a heist? Following the plot of the Bling Ring?”

“Maybe next time,” Mary said nonchalantly, “But I don’t see why you should when you’re being offered free food here. Remember, stay safe, and please bring me a plate of whatever food they have there.”

With one last look, Mary gave her a reassuring beam as she bent down to begin her search party, as her phone had fallen off of the dashboard and slid off to who knows where. It ultimately meant that she was going to dawdle in the car for an unreasonable amount of time because she didn’t want to step out into the cold so quickly, as it was just characteristic of Mary to do stay in her comfort zone for as long as she deemed possible. It was for that reason that Lily decided to knock at the door before the frosty air could hold her captive as well.

The door thankfully opened quickly, and amidst the sweet smell of cookies and all the positivity that embodied Christmas, she caught sight of, well, reindeer. It wasn’t off-putting that it was reindeer. It was off-putting that it was reindeer. Atop each other.

She wasn’t being subjected to real-live reindeer, of course, as they were graphics that appeared on the sweater of some bloke bold enough to wear it to the party. If the sweater hadn’t had the reindeer engaged in such an illicit act, it probably could have been a lovely sweater.

They could have matched, actually, because she was wearing a sweater similar to his, the only main difference being the fact that her deer were nowhere near one another, and hers was mainly black while his was mainly blue.

She felt her eyebrows furrowing in confusion at the sight, and she blinked twice. “You must be James.”

She’d finally managed to tear her eyes away from the deer to look up at him, and she’d nearly fallen onto her knees at the fact that he was so attractive to the point that he absolutely had to know how attractive he was. It didn’t help that there was a pair of antlers atop his head, and they only served to draw attention to his messy hair, hair wild enough to make her thoughts wander off into territory that they shouldn’t have stumbled upon in the first place.

And then her gaze flickered right back to his sweater, where the reindeer seemed to be mocking her.

It was only then that he’d been able to somewhat redeem himself when he opened his mouth, and how how how could a voice be equally as attractive as his physique?

“Yeah? What gave it away?”

She raised an eyebrow at him. “You’ve got reindeer fucking on your sweater.”

He let out an embarrassed laugh, and she couldn’t help but notice the way his cheeks pinked at her observation. He let out a soft sigh. “I can’t believe the prettiest person I’ve ever seen in my life knows me as the bloke who wears sweaters with graphics of reindeer procreation. I swear I’m being forced to wear this right now.”

Her shoulders sagged in relief. “I was beginning to feel concern for you, a stranger. I still do feel concern, actually. I assume it was Sirius who put you up for that?”

He nodded grimly. “We made a bet. Signed a contract to wear it if I lose and everything.”

“I’m so sorry that he’s disgraced deer like that. No one should ever involuntarily wear clothing that display any form of animal procreation.”

Her words seemed to have some sort of a strong effect on him, and he began smiling so wide that she could make out a dimple growing on the left side of his face. He opened his mouth to respond, when a piercing voice rang through the air, as if the evil form of Father Christmas had awaken to fill all of their stockings with coal.

“Close the fucking door, you fucking—” There was, of course, only one person whose voice that could have belonged to, and her eyes met grey, comprehension growing in his eyes as he realised who she was. “Fuck. Close the door. I’ll be right back.”

“Sirius,” she said simply.

“Unfortunately,” he replied, and he looked out towards the car, “Is your friend coming in?”

Lily regarded his question with little interest and shook her head. “She’s just dropping me off.”

He nodded in acknowledgement. “You’re Lily, right?”

“Unless you were expecting the actual flower, that would be me.”

“I’d say you came to please, then. You’re just as pretty as one.”

She didn’t know what to say in response, because it wasn’t as if she was unconfident in her looks, but it was the mere fact that he’d managed to flirt with her twice in the span of a few minutes. “You can definitely do much bet—”

She was cut off by the sound of heavy footsteps once again, and Sirius returned with something green in his hand. She already knew what it was without even having to get a close look of it, if the deep sighs coming from James were of any indication.

“Padfoot, I swear if you bloody hang that over our heads—”

“That’s quite presumptuous of you to think that I’m trying to incite non-consensual kissing between strangers.”

“Then explain why you’ve got mistletoe in your hand.”

Sirius hung it over his own head. “I’m doing everyone a favour by giving all of you permission to kiss me, the one and only Sirius Black. This is a one-time offer, so I’d say you should take advantage of this opportunity.”

Lily concealed any feeling of disgust that he’d stirred up from his horrible offer, because she came to this party with absolutely no intention of kissing anybody, let alone Sirius, who she honestly thought couldn’t possibly be a horrible person and that his way of texting merely gave off strange vibes. Perhaps he wasn’t a terrible person in the sense that he was decent enough for Remus to befriend, but, as she’d already known long before, looks gave no clue of how a person was on the inside.

“Right, so where do I place this down?” she asked instead, holding up her present that she’d wrapped carefully.

“Don’t know about the box, but you could place yourself down on James’s—”

“Beneath the Christmas tree should be fine,” James had cut in, and he placed tentative fingers on her shoulders, to which she felt warmth spreading throughout her body, “Here, I’ll show you where it is.”

“It’s right there—” she began, but upon realising that he was helping to whisk her away from Sirius, who looked as if the being who he’d successfully been able to bag was Death itself— what with his pale skin and body covered head-to-toe in all black, save the small bit of his red shirt peeking out from beneath his leather jacket— she stopped herself. “Thank you.”

“It’s no problem.”

It was a problem, actually, because she thought she’d resolved every single one of her worries when she’d finally finished making his gift for him, but she’d been far too busy dwelling on making it so that he would enjoy his present that she hadn’t even stopped for a moment to consider that he might actually fall under the category of men that seemed to make her heart do backflips. And when Sirius was unsubtly running around with mistletoe in his hands, it was obvious that both her and James were to be subjected to uncomfortability, similar to the way people wanted celebrities to date one another on the basis that they were both attractive people.

She didn’t speak her thoughts, instead choosing to plaster a smile on her face, which in all honestly wasn’t at all difficult to do, not when the interior of the place was just as festive as it was outside. The tree stood taller than any tree that she could have ever put up at her flat, and it must have taken a painstaken amount of time to decorate all of it. At closer inspection, she noticed the tree had a good number of ornaments containing images of who she assumed were either James or Sirius at different stages of life making funny faces at the camera.

“Don’t judge,” he said from behind her.

“Oh, I can assure you that I’ve expected no form of normality in this household since you’ve opened the door.”

He grinned at her. “Yeah? Have my expectations been up to par, then?”

“Somewhere up there,” she allowed, “Though, I don’t think there’s too much pride you can have in how stranger perceives you, especially when it’s on the low end of the metre.”

“I take immense pride in that, for your information. I’m taking it as a good sign, since you’ve yet to pelt an ornament at me.”

“I’d say you’re going to only have good signs, then. I, contrary to popular belief, do not pelt ornaments at people.”

“I’d pelt an ornament at any idiot who would believe you more than willing to do such a thing.”

She couldn’t help the laughter bubbling from her lips at his words, and it seemed that he took great pride in getting a laugh from her, because her actions had spurred him on to smile just as widely. Somehow, he’d managed to find a way to be such a dork while still simultaneously coming off as charming.

The ring at the doorbell snapped them out of it, and he flashed her an apologetic smile. “Duty calls— rings? Dunno which word is more fitting, but I’ll have to go greet the other guests. I’ll see you later, yeah?”

“I’ll remember to not pelt any ornaments during the wait,” she smiled, and it only served to make his dimple greet her once again as he grinned.

“I knew you’d understand.”

With that, he left her to her own devices. Someone— most likely Sirius— had begun blaring Mariah Carey, the spirit of all things concerning Christmas, and if that didn’t add to the strangeness of it all, she didn’t know what did.

She placed the gift down carefully beside a red gift bag decorated with white snowflakes, and it was quite possibly the most normal sight she’d seen in the house so far— perhaps the only normal sight she’d be seeing for the night.

It was, most definitely, going to be a long night.

+++

For a place that could have possibly housed an entire army, there weren’t as many people as Lily had thought would show up.

There were so much more than she could have expected.

She’d thought that they’d only invited their inner circle of friends if she were to judge from the small number of people in the group chat, and so it would be a complete understatement if Lily said that she thought that she’d feel completely out of place in a room where inside-jokes populated the conversations. It seemed that James, who was the owner of this house— or at least one of the owners, seeing as his parents had been away on a business trip and wouldn’t return until the week of Christmas— was just as surprised as she was by the amount of people showing up.

It seemed that somebody had decided to pass on the message that anybody who learned about the details of the party was invited, and at one point, James literally had to lock the door so as to keep people out, but when Sirius had brought up the point that people could easily climb in through the windows and over the fences, his efforts were rendered futile.

It would be an absolute miracle if the neighbours didn’t call the cops on them.

Sirius, once one got over his many bouts of inappropriate behaviour, was actually a somewhat hilarious person who, in a way, seemed to understand her. It wasn’t her fault that her eyes kept wandering over to James, who’d taken to putting a pillow right over his chest so that he could cover up the cursed image of the reindeer, because she still couldn’t fully fathom how a person could be so attractive without doing anything even remotely interesting, and it definitely wasn’t her fault that Sirius was ribbing her for it.

Sure, Sirius was the conventional type of attractive, but when someone like James was there, Sirius was merely a rock and James a diamond.

It didn’t help that everyone— save for James— was painfully aware of her staring. She felt shame welling up inside of her, because she knew all too well that there was so much more in a person than their appearance, and she herself hated when people merely saw her as nothing more than how she looked. Now, though, she was doing the exact same thing she was entirely against, only, it was with James.

She didn’t even know him that well, and as much as she’d like to say that she’d spent the majority of her time conversing with him, she knew that would be an absolute lie, as she had barely talked to him since she’d greeted him at the door. She’d caught glimpses of his personality through the texts that he sent to the group chat, and she’d be an absolute liar if she wasn’t at all intrigued by his mannerism and himself as a whole.

She wanted to learn more about him, learn about his strange fixation with deer, learn everything there was to know about him, like if he was really the type of man her parents would have liked to see her walking down the aisle with: the type of man who made her completely and utterly happy.

Sirius leaned over to her, because of course she would be the one to end up sitting beside him, even if for just a short period of time. Of course he would, yet again, pick up on her stares. “You can’t fuck if you don’t talk to each other first.”

“I’d say in some extreme cases, that would be a complete lie.”

“I’m prone to agree, but since that idiot has only had unsuccessful dates this entire year, I’m obligated to step up. You’d make his entire bloody new year.”

“Unfortunately, I don’t exist for the sole purpose of making one single person happy.”

“Of course not, but we all know how you’ve been fucking James with your eyes, so spare yourself of wasted time and sit on his lap. He wouldn’t protest.”

“I’d protest,” she replied scathingly, “And he’s talking to his line of admirers.”

‘Talking’ was a word being used loosely here, because he seemed to be the only person speaking, having gone on about a story about himself from when he was younger. It seemed that he’d been engaged in a conversation with Remus earlier, but after the first three women came from nowhere, Remus had left him alone with them, and so he’d been forced to conversate with them, unless he fancied being found in a ditch the following day. She could already sense his discomfort from just the way his smile seemed permanently glued on to his face.

“To cut the conversation short,” Sirius began, feeling no sense of empathy for his mate, “You’re holding back.”

“I didn’t come here for you to play matchmaker.”

“But little do you know,” Sirius sighed.

“Pardon?”

“What?” Sirius asked, “You’re forgiven.”

“I’ve absolutely no reason to apologise—”

“There’s always a reason to apologise. For one thing, you’re stealing me away from the other guests. Everyone needs an equal share of Sirius Black—”

She blanched. “Right, well, that’s already enough incentive to walk away from you right about now.”

“That’s the spirit,” he replied, “Repulsion is the first step to a blossoming friendship. Let me be best man, if that isn’t too much to ask.”

“You didn’t even ask.”

“You didn’t offer. I’ve got to take matters into my own hands.”

She scoffed lightly at him. “It was nice meeting you formally, Sirius.”

“Not sure if that’s sarcasm or if you’re being genuine, but either way, I’ll take it as a compliment.”

She had to hand it to him; she wasn’t sure just exactly what he was capable of, but if Sirius Black was ever handed the opportunity to take over the world, he’d turn down that chance just to find his own means of world domination.

She watched as he walked over to the group with James, said a few magical words, and the next thing that she knew, Sirius had taken the women off of James’s hands as if they were moths and he was a flame.

What she hadn’t expected, however, was to see Sirius pushing James directly towards her, and it seemed as if he was a reindeer soaring through the sky, but the metaphor suddenly seemed unsuiting when she found him crashing right into her.

Or, nearly crashing, and she could already feel how awkward it would have been if he’d fallen atop of her, what with their bodies right up against one another and his face merely centimetres away from hers.

In reality, though, Sirius’s pushing was merely a light shove, because his arms just weren’t strong enough to move somebody across the room and acted only as encouragement more than anything else.

“Hello, hi,” James said, and he sent a glare towards Sirius, “We meet again. Your reindeer are still living in solitude, I see.”

She couldn’t help the smile growing on her face. “I see yours are still going at it. Do they ever stop?”

“Right? It’s quite rude to all the guests around here. They need to find their own time and place to make love.”

She nodded. “They are domestic animals. I expected much more from them. Do you want to go somewhere more quiet? Mariah’s gotten a bit annoying after the first five rounds of All I Want For Christmas Is You.”

“Sure, as long as it’s not for the purposes of love-making. I’d like to at least take you out on a date first.”

“Then, to your room?”

“If you insist,” he joked, and she felt her lips curling upwards once again.

+++

“Why the fixation with deer?” was the very first thing that she’d asked once they’d entered his room. She’d noticed that his devotion to Christmas only seemed to continue on behind the privacy of his door, as even the bedsheets had been changed to mimic Christmas. There was, of course, a Christmas tree in the corner of his room, and rather than the small ones that some people put, the tree was of average size. Beneath the tree were the gifts that were brought for the Secret Santa ceremony, which James had relocated in case any of the uninvited guests had decided that it would be a good idea to snatch them.

She made herself comfortable on his bed, patting the space beside her to motion for him to sit down, that she wouldn’t falsely made accusations at him if he got too close to her. He chuckled at her question. “Its antlers look like a crown, and we both know that I am the most majesty being in the world.”

She fought the urge to roll her eyes at him, because though she hadn’t known him for that long, seemed like such a him thing to say. “A real answer, please.”

“You’d laugh.”

“Only if it’s funny.”

She watched his lips rise at the corners. “I took a quiz about what my spirit animal would be, and I got a stag. That’s what made my interest stagnant, I’d say.”

She unceremoniously let out a huff of air. “You made that pun on purpose.”

“Ah, don’t tell me you don’t have an appreciation for puns.”

“I have an appreciation for the funny ones.”

“I’m actually so offended right now. I’m not funny?”

“Oh, I don’t doubt that you’re funny. Your puns are the ones that need some work.”

“It was hilarious.”

“For you perhaps, but since you base your pride on the beliefs of strangers, your opinions don’t seem to matter in this scenario.”

“Oi, my puns are the greatest, thank you very much. I think your opinion is skewed because you’ve been too distracted by the reindeer fornicating on my sweater.”

She laughed. “You’re ridiculous.”

“You’re laughing, which means that I am completely and utterly hilarious.”

“If you say so,” she sang, “Will you pelt an ornament at me so as to convince me otherwise?”

“Violence is never the answer. I’ve other alternatives, like begging and pleading you to please fuel my ego as it so desires.”

“I’m sure looking in the mirror gives you enough fuel to last the entire week. Month, maybe.”

“Are you calling me handsome?”

“I’m certainly not calling your puns funny.”

“I don’t know whether I should be turned on by the fact that you think I’m attractive or off because you think I’m unfunny.”

There was something in his tone that made her think that he was edging near the former option rather than the latter, and the manner in which his breaths were coming out more slowly was even more of a signal that he wanted something to happen between them just as much as she did.

“Maybe,” she started, and her fingers began moving up his thigh, inching upwards until she was cupping his chin, feeling the light stubble on his face, “We could reach a com—”

She was cut off by the sound of the door bursting open.

It was, of course, Sirius, who looked unsurprised at the sight of them on the bed together. “I’m going to assume that I interrupted you lot, but I’d say that you deserved it, because both of you were too slow to jump the other first thing when you laid eyes on each other.”

“What do you want, Padfoot?” James grumbled, and he removed a hand from her arm, which she hadn’t even noticed had been on her person.

“A lot of things, actually.” She cocked an eyebrow at him. Perhaps the eggnog that they’d served had gotten to his brain, if the alcohol that he’d dunked into the Christmas drink hadn’t done so already. “Anyway, we need to open presents. Oi, you lot. We’re opening presents, and no, that doesn’t include me.”

Sirius clapped ostentatiously to attract everyone’s attention, as if his random outburst hadn’t been heard by perhaps the entire neighbourhood. “We do not need a hearing aid for a present this Christmas,” Remus said as he walked in, and he regarded his mug of eggnog with disdain, as if it was Sirius in the form of a liquid.

It seemed that Sirius had already gathered all of the people who were involved in the ceremony, as a few other people walked in afterwards, and only Peter seemed sympathetic enough to flash them a look of apology for intruding on them.

“Never said anything about a hearing aid,” Sirius replied, “Maybe you need the hearing aid.”

“After your outbursts, I reckon we’ll all need hearing aids. Calm your arse, yeah?” James put in, and Lily felt that had the opportunity arisen, she most definitely would have paid to hear more of his lovely voice.

“He’s excited for presents,” Peter Pettigrew added, “I’m excited.”

“Don’t tell anyone, but I made sure that no one got Pete for Secret Santa,” Sirius drawled, and Lily whacked him lightly with a nearby pillow.

“That’s completely unsuitable for the occasion.”

“It’s fine, Lily,” Peter started, “He says things like that all the time. I’ve built an immunity to it.”

“You shouldn’t have to tolerate it.”

“If this helps,” James began, “I was your Secret Santa. Your present is the one with the gold wrapper, because I use only the finest materials.”

Peter scrambled up to grab the present as described, and this was more or less how it had went on, with everyone having an unspoken agreement on who could throw the most jabs at each other. Sirius was, unsurprisingly, Lily’s Secret Santa, and he’d thought it hilarious to include a gag gift in with the real gift— a pink scarf and an insanely giant framed picture of himself. It went on to show that the size of a present truly didn’t make it a good gift, and she’d have to find some open space in her closet to hang the portrait up on. It would have been quite rude of her to not put up the portrait.

Annoyingly enough, Sirius was completely and deliberately delaying her from giving her gift to James, and when the time finally came for her to give James the concrete embodiment of her hard work and effort, Sirius again was unsubtle in hiding his motives. She took her previous thoughts back. He could definitely not conquer the world, no matter how hard he tried.

“I’ve going to take a sh—”

“If you finish that last thought, I will throw you out the window,” Remus threatened.

“Remus and I will be going— actually, no, let’s all go together.”

“I am not going anywhere near the bathroom with you,” Remus interjected, looking aghast at the prospect.

“You’ve no choice—”

“I always have a choice,” Remus replied, and Lily had been looking on with such amusement that she’d been a bit surprised when he turned towards her, “I am so sorry for his behaviour.”

“I am so sorry that you’ve had to endure him for, what was it, the entirety of your life?”

“That’d be about right,” Peter cut in with a nod.

“I can’t believe you’re all ganging up on me.”

“You can’t honestly expect to intrude upon James and I for open gifts, only to unsubtly leave us alone when it’s time for James to open his present, can you?” she asked Sirius.

“That only makes it even more fun for him,” James said beside her, “And I’d rather they leave now than never.”

“You love us.”

“Yeah, yeah. Get out, and I’ll see about that.”

James, at that point, had taken to escorting them out of the room, and with one swift motion, he closed the door shut and clicked the lock in place. He walked towards the tree, picking up the very last gift that remained before seating himself right back beside her.

“You couldn’t have possibly found a way to clone yourself, have you?”

She found her cheeks growing red, and she shook her head. “Not unless I also found some way to shrink myself.”

He smiled softly at her response. “It’s only that I think that the best present I’ve gotten so far is meeting you.”

“Honestly, if you don’t think that this will be the best present you’ve ever seen in your life, I’m afraid I’ll have to cut off all contact with you. I worked too hard on this gift for it to only be second to myself.”

She watched his smile blossom into something nearly as radiant as a flower at her words, and he shook his head, looking a bit bashful. “Nothing could ever beat you.”

His hands drifted down to the bow that she’d tied on top of the box, slowly pulling it off, and she was glad to see that he was not one of those monsters that destroyed the wrapping paper in order to get to the gift faster. He did the action with some speed, though he was being awfully considerate in not tearing it either, and when he did accidentally make a small rip, he let out a small apology to the paper, as if he was hurting it.

Her heart only moved quicker at that action.

When he opened the box, pulling out the mug that she’d been putting all of her painstaking effort into creating, he let out a nearly inaudible gasp at the sight. He scrutinised every inch of it, and his face didn’t even once diverge from amazement, even when there was so clearly a mistake in the way she’d made it.

“You made this?” he said inconceivably, and she nodded, “How could anyone make something so bloody nice? Fucking— you’re so talented.”

She knew that his words were making her face turn so red that she had to be the living embodiment of the colours of Christmas now, because it was one thing for him to compliment her appearance, but it was something completely difficult when he was praising her work.

She’d made him a ceramic mug, having used so much of the patience that was a gift she could never have gotten from anyone other than her parents and the universe.

She’d done all of it herself, even going the length of digging out and cleaning her own clay in the back of her yard because it would take far too long to ship clay to her home, and on the side of the mug, she’d painted, of course, a reindeer.

He placed the mug down onto his bedside table and took her face tentatively in his. “Can I—”

“Please.”

He smiled widely at her, and with that, he pressed his lips to her, the taste of the eggnog he’d prepared filling her senses. There were so many things that she’d imagined to happen when he’d gotten his gift, which included— but was not limited to— him simply thanking her, or, had he turned out to be a malicious person, would have slammed all of her effort onto the ground, effectively splitting the mug into a million pieces.

She didn’t realise that she’d end up kissing him. She didn’t realise that she’d love kissing him.

There was something so tantalisingly sweet about the way he was holding on to her chin and something so utterly desirable about the manner in which he was kissing her. It wasn’t too slow or too fast, and it wasn’t even helping that her heart had taken to soaring throughout her body as if it was a shooting star, sending wonder towards every single one of its witnesses.

She’d found it too much of a coincidence that he’d end up being the person who she had to get a gift for, found it too much of a coincidence that she’d wind up being added to a group chat in which everyone but her was close with one another, and—

“Oh my goodness,” she said against his lips, and she pulled away, her eyes opening so that green could meet gold.

It was not a coincidence.

“Are you all right?” he asked her, and the way in which his glasses were skewed only added to his confusion.

She nodded. “It’s just— aren’t you peeved?”

“Peeved?” He looked more perplex. “About what?”

“We’ve so obviously been set up, and it took me this long to realise it.”

“We’ve been…” he repeated, and he blinked once, then once again. “What?”

“It’s so obvious now that Sirius set all of this up so that we could meet. Don’t you—” Her eyes widened slightly when his cheeks flared up, signifying that he knew something. He knew something. “James.”

“Right, yeah, I didn’t realise that this was a set up until after you were added to the chat, but I swear— I just thought that you were a cool person because you’re on the phone with Remus a lot. I didn’t think Sirius would take the initiative to do all of that. I— are you mad?”

Was she mad?

No, she didn’t think she was, or, at least she wasn’t mad at him.

“No,” she answered honestly, finding his rambling to be cute, “I’m not mad at all. I got to meet you, didn’t I? I think that’s enough compensation.”

“But we both agree that Sirius isn’t getting away with this.”

Her lips curled upwards. “After a few more rounds of kissing. And the sweater goes off.”

“I thought you were starting to warm up to it.”

“I could honestly never,” she laughed, but he complied anyway, pulling the cursed top off of himself. Her fingers lightly roamed over the exposed skin, and she found him kissing her once again.

There were many feelings that people felt when it came to the topic of Christmastime, but right now, all Lily could feel was joy.

There was also that small bit of wrath felt towards Sirius, but when joy was the dominant feeling, who cared what else she felt?

All she focused on was joy. Joy and joy and joy.

#omg i really wrote 6.5k in two days #what a los3r #jily #jily fic #jily au #jily fanfic #jily fanfiction #james and lily #james potter #lily evans #james x lily #lsj writes

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panda-noosh · 7 years

Note

Heyo, you know Carl? Carl Grimes? How bout something angsty with him? Thanks in advance hun-buns, your writing is great

Words: 2494

Notes: Isthis angsty? I don't know. Enjoy!

It was funny.

You lived in aworld where a simple bite could end your life, and yet you had neverstopped long enough to think about what being bit actually felt like.

Was it painful? Wasit a relief? Did you suddenly lose all tact on the world, simplybecoming a shell known as a walker?

These questionsseemed reasonable enough to ask in your current situation. You livedamongst them. You had seen people lose their life, seen people turninto them right in front of you. But it was odd – you had neverwondered what it felt like.

Maybe it wasbecause you knew the outcome of it all anyway. They would die, comeback to life if you let them get that far. Usually the bite in itselfwas a good enough reason to pop a bullet in their skull, but therewas the odd person who turned a little too fast, the odd person whoyou could just simply not pull the trigger to.

At the end of theday, the outcome was always the same – death, and then more death.

Bites weren'texactly painful, you werefiguring out. They were more of a numb feeling. It was like you couldfeel the life draining out of you, in some ways. Like the bite itselfwas squeezing your life force out of you and replacing it with thedead soul you were soon to be inhabiting.

Nobodywas here to shoot you, and you wouldn't do it yourself. The gun laydeserted at your side, buried beneath a pile of leaves you had thrownyourself into after killing the thing that had just ripped a chunkout of your lower arm.

Itwasn't the worst place to be bit. Maybe that was your delusionsspeaking, or the fever hitting but there was something to be gratefulabout in the fact that your throat was still in one piece.

Sorry, Carl, youfind yourself thinking, feeling yourself drifting off into death. Itwas only a matter of time. They told you not to leave the house, andyet here you were – sitting against a tree in the middle of thewoods after insisting that you could do what you wanted.

Abranch snaps at the side of you. Usually, reflexes were your strongpoint. Any noise could be picked up in seconds and you were up andready to fight it before it had even taken another step towards you.This time, though, you simply lay numb, listening to the noise as itgets louder and louder, clapping against broken twigs and leaves.

Somebodywas running. Whoever it was better hurry up – this is gettingpainful.

“No!”

Thevoice makes you flinch – not because of the volume, but because ofthe owner of it.

Carlslides to a halt beside you, his knees scraping against the pile ofleaves you've settled in. Immediately his gun is dropped to the sideand his hands are cupping your cheeks, keeping them in place as hesearches for any more bites than the very, very obvious one throbbingon my lower arm.

“I'vegot you. It's okay. It's okay,” Carl coos. “Are you good? Can youkeep your eyes open?”

“I'vehonestly never been better,” you slur. “Finally getting out ofthis shit hole. Shame it had to be this way, I suppose.”

“Shutup,” Carl hisses. You strain your eyes to look at him, but all yousee is a blur. You can make out his silhouette – the long hair, thebloodied clothes, the hat – but that was about it. He might noteven be here at all.

Hishands touching you are the only thing keeping you sane in thismoment. If he wasn't an illusion, that is, because maybe you alreadyhad. Maybe this was all fake, and the fever had grabbed you and youhad no other way out of it than to-

Yourhand is scrambling for your gun before you know why. It's like aspasm in your arm – your brain is yelling at you to calm down, andyou're telling yourself outwardly to calm down, but your fingersgrapple for the weapon beneath the leaves, against everything.

Thepain at the movement kicks in immediately. Your bones feel like glassand every little movement is shattering every shard and letting itpoke through your skin, showing no mercy, but you can't stop moving.There's a panic building up beside the pain that is causing you tomove, despite it hurting you in a way you can't describe.

“Hey!Hey!” Carl exclaims, reaching for your hand as he knows full wellwhat you're planning on doing. “Stop it, Y/N! Y/N! Stop!”

“Oh God, it hurts!” you scream, throwing your head back. Sweatdrips off of your neck, coating the collar of your shirt along withthe blood which had been dotting your clothes since the moment thisvirus took off. “Carl, it hurts! Please, let me finish it!Please!”

Carl chokes back a sob, looking down at you as heshakes his head. “It's on your arm. We – We can fix it if youjust let me be quick.”

“It's too late for a quick fix,”you say. Carl pulls the gun out from beneath the leaves and stuffs itinto his own holster, out of your reach. “The fevers hit, Carl. I'mnot gonna last much longer.”

“Stopsaying that,” Carl hisses, cupping your face again. You close youreyes and let out a final sob, your hands pressing into your side asyou try so hard to ease the pain which is eating away at your body inthis moment. “Let me try. Please, let me try.”

“I'm notletting you cut my arm off for some kind of experiment.”

“Itcould save your life. Please-”

Youlet out a belch, cutting his sentence off. Every nerve in your bodyseems to snap, sending you spiralling faster and faster towards whatyou know is your death – your first death.

Carlflinches at the sound, but takes matters into his own hands without asecond thought. He grabs your arm and stretches it out across hislap, taking the pickaxe he had stolen off of his father out of hisholster. His eyes click onto yours for one final moment, asking –begging – forpermission to do it, and whenever you nod your head weakly, he takesthe final action.

Heswings the pickaxe and slams it down on your arm, just above thebite. A sob escapes him as your scream fills the forest, shakes thetrees, makes everything around him feel that little bit duller. Yourentire lower arm comes off in his hand and he yells at the sight ofit, throwing it to the side so he no longer has to look at it.

Thenhe has to deal with the aftermath. The blood which is currentlyspurting out of your arm – what's left of your arm – and thescreams you had just let out, how they will attract walkers formiles.

Butyou can't stay awake long enough to see how he deals with it. Youreyes are closing, your vision going blurry as you silently pray toGod that this doesn't work, that you won't have to wake up without anarm, that the fever was really the last straw and this is it for you.

“-beprepared if you got there too late.”

“I wasn't too late. Icouldn't have been. She wasn't even gone for that long before I foundher.”

“Carl-”

“Dad,she's going to be okay. I'll help her through it all when she wakesup.”

“Please-”

“When she wakesup. Because she will.”

Andyou do, and it's painful, but relaxing and blissful all at the sametime.

Youreyes peel themselves open, letting the sunlight shred your pupils topieces as you get used to the sudden lighting adjustment. There's adull pain in the back of your head, and an aching one on your leftside, but overall you feel a lot healthier than what you did before.

Before. Youhad been bitten. Carl had taken your arm off. You should be deadright now.

Youlook down at the space beside you – your left side. The arm isgone, a stump being left behind that is covered in blood-soakedbandages. The sheets you lay on are also covered in blood, thoughthat is the least of your worries right now.

Thedoor to your cell is open a little bit, Hershel and Maggie standingoutside of it. Neither of them have noticed you're awoken state, andyou overhear their conversation as you force yourself into an uprightposition, ignoring the pain in your side.

“She'sa fighter,” Maggie says. “We got the blood under control after afew minutes.”

“Onlybecause Carl gave her some of his,” Hershel replies, and your heartstops. You bite down on your lip harshly, already planning out thescolding you were going to have to give him – risking his life foryou, again. Just like you always told him not to.

“Theyreally care for each other,” Maggie continues. “Remember whenCarl was shot and she was ready for us to drain her blood of body forhim?”

Hershelchuckles, the memory of the farm still fresh in his head. “Yep. I'mproud to say she's my amputee buddy.”

Youcrinkle your nose up. “I don't know if I like that nickname.”

Hersheland Maggie start at the sound of your voice, as croaked and untamedas it was. As soon as they turn around and see your upright state,they rush towards you and begin to fuss over the bandages on yourstump, Maggie running her hands through your hair to calm you down,as if you needed calmed.

“Howare you feeling?” Hershel asks you as Maggie holds back tears atthe side of you. You shoot the Greene girl a sideways glance,slightly confused at her reaction though you squeeze her handreassuringly nonetheless.

“Good,”you reply. “Better. My arm – my stump –aches a little bit, and I'm ninety percent sure I shouldn't be aliveright now, but that's about it.”

Hershelnods, pinching the skin on your stump. It hurts a little bit, but youdon't pull away.

“Whencan I see Carl?”

Hershellooks up. “He's a bit dazed right now. He gave a lot of blood.”

“That'swhy I wanna see him. So I can kick his ass for giving me blood.”

Maggiescoffs. “I don't care how tough you are, missy, you aren't leavingthis bed for at least another day or so. You'll be light headed ashell.”

“Ican hardly be very tough if I got myself bit.”

Maggiefrowns. “Still got the same old attitude.”

Yousigh and slump back against the headboard. “Can you tell him tocome in here when he's okay? I really - I wanna talk to him.”

Youknow you sound desperate. After so many years of denying being in arelationship with Carl Grimes, this was not the image you were meantto be putting up. And yet you can't help it. You need to see him. Youneed to thank him for what he was doing for you, thank him for savingyour life.

Youneed to tell him how you feel. Being so close to death really opensyour eyes to the fact that life is too short for secrets.

Maggieand Hershel leave the room to allow you to get some rest. You get agood hours of sleep in before somebody else is knocking on the doorframe of your cell, wanting to enter.

Youopen your eyes and roll over to see who it is. As soon as you see hisface, you shoot upright and smile at him brightly, though you'repositive it looks more forced than you'd like.

“Carl,”you say. He doesn't look too bad – a little paler, but nothingmuch. There's a plaster over his arm, his sleeves rolled up to revealit as if he was proud of himself for giving blood. “How are youfeeling?” Carl raises a brow as he sits himself down besideyour bed. “I don't think you should be the one asking that. What'sthe stump like?”

Youlook down at it. So weird. It makes our body seem disproportionated,a fact which you know you're gonna have to get used to eventually.

“Itmakes me feel lop sided,” you tell him. Life's too shortfor secrets. You're not okay, and you can tell him that.

Youbite your lip and look up. “It makes me feel like a bit of anidiot, to be honest.”

Carlfrowns. “How?”

“Remindsme that I nearly got you killed just because I wanted to prove myselfto the group.” You scoff, using your one hand to mess with thematerial of your jeans. “Nearly got myself killed, too, but thatwouldn't be that big of a deal, I guess. You're Rick's son. Judith'sbrother. I'm just – I'm just me. Still,it's pretty shit that all I had to do was sit still and I couldn'teven do that right. End up getting bit and amputeed in the process.”

Carlwinces at the words you speak. “Your death would rip this damngroup apart, Y/N. You know that. If it wouldn't, I would have leftyou to die.” “You should have,” you scoff. “Riskingyour life for me is stupid, Carl Grimes. I've got nobody left –nobody but you.”

“You'llalways have me.”

“But if you die, I have nobody. If I die,you still have Rick, and Judith.”

“But I won't have you.”You look towards him, a frown on your pale face. His eyes meet yoursand for a moment, you don't look away. You're usual lack of eyecontact seems to completely disappear, and you get trapped in hisdark gaze for a moment longer than planned.

“Youwon't have me,” you mutter, looking back down whenever you're surethe blush on your cheeks is getting too obvious. “Right. Sorry. I'mtalking nonsense. It's the lack of my left arm, I think.”

Carlsmiles gently, before he places his hand on top of yours and gentlyrubs your knuckles with his thumb. The action is soothing –soothing enough that you let your head fall back against theheadboard, enjoying the moment whilst it lasted.

“Thankyou, though,” you say, finally.

“Forwhat?”

“Saving my life and everything.”

Carlsmiles softly. “I could thank you for the same thing.”

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