#they kind of just kept being frogs. and nobody could figure out why or how to get them to not be frogs | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

spice-chan · 4 years ago

Text

I Wish

Tags : @sacro---sainte @pixxiesdust @ererokii @etegomanere

Word count : 7 k

pairings : Kirishima x reader previous Bakugou x reader

You were kicked out of Bakugo’s majestic and overrated castle. That’s fine, you find your footing somewhere better, and build a future anew with a handsome, shark toothed dragon.

warnings : angst, implied violence, mentions of slavery ( very brief), eventual happy ending.

…...……..

Bakugou has had this thought for a while. A thought that plagued him whenever he laid in bed with you, whenever he strolled in his lavish gardens with you in the dim hours of the night.

This shouldn’t last.

Even as he reluctantly relents to your requests to meet up, spend time together, this thought plagues him. He was a king, and you were not royal, not even of rich descent. You were just...you. He was an ambitious king with plans for generations to come, enhanced senses and powers, a genius among geniuses. You were just a scholar who happened to intrigue him. Who got too close for comfort.

Bakugou, who’s mind was usually logical and unclouded, was seeing the world through rose coloured lenses.

A rabbit, with nothing on her name, and him.

But this was no fairytale, the struggle will just be ripping the bandaid off. Bakugou knows it will sting, but it will fade away with time, just like those ridiculous feelings.

“What is this about ?” You asked vehemently, trying to reason yourself out of thinking that this is true, willing yourself to believe in him.

“It’s exactly what you think.” Bakugou replied carelessly. Apathetically.

It’ll be just like ripping a bandaid off.

So why did it feel like a blue flames’ burn ?

Why did it sting like a snake’s bite ?

Time will tell, but until then, fake it till you make it. Maybe the apathy his face shows will eventually become all that he feels for you.

You just stared at him in disbelief, bottom lip quivering, eyebrows furrowing in a pained glare, sight getting blurrier.

You wanted him to tell you it’s a joke, that you’re the one that he wants to spend the rest of his life with, not a pompous, rich princess from a fairytale like kingdom. You wished he’d take you into his arms and tease you that you ‘liked him that much huh ?’

He rolled his eyes.

You wished he’d express his melancholy at parting ways with you. You wished he’d give you half hearted reasons why he’s marrying someone else. You clung to the hope that he’d lie to you, but he’d done enough lying. He broke every single promise he made to you. Still, you clung to the hope like a tiny child clings to the side of the pool, afraid of the traitorous waters.

“While you’re at it, pack your shitty things and leave, I don’t want to see you here anymore.” He ordered, moving to grab his writing quill and paper.

Writing away as if you didn’t exist.

You wished, but wishes don’t always come true. Your future with him was going to be one of those wishes, made to wither away with time.

You didn’t offer him any words of heart break, he wished you’d at least shout at him, maybe that way he’d hear your voice one last time.

No, the only thing he heard was your footsteps padding away, not even stomping, just softly enough that if his pen fell if would deafen him to the sound of you walking away.

The clock ticked, his door opened. The bandaid ripped.

And you left.

You walked aimlessly on an unfamiliar path. Your eyes looked cold, dead, their bright glow lost along with the faint yellow light in the sky. The grass crunched beneath your feet, and the trees were growing ominously large, their spine looming over you.

But you continued walking, aimlessly, and without direction. But that was the last thing that plagued your mind.

He broke up with you, he kicked you out, without hesitation. You didn’t shed a tear, but you knew the dam was going to burst.

It was your fault for having naive expectations, he was a king after all, and who were you ? A nobody compared to him.

You were probably just a distraction, seeing as he didn’t seem to have a hair out of place when he told you to leave.

You just thought he was above arranged marriages, that he was capable of keeping his kingdom solid without the aid of another. But you supposed the deal wasn’t half bad.

While you were lost in your head, you didn’t notice the camouflaged figures that began to appear around you, slowly forming a caging circle.

A hand clamped around your mouth, silencing your shrieks, while your eyes widened in fright.

You attempted to pry his filthy hands off you, your muffled shouting and crying ringing out with an echo throughout the deadly forest. That is, until the frog like man around you started to laugh, mocking how easy it was to “capture a bunny that will bring them thousands”. You dreaded the implication of their words.

You writhed in futile effort to get away, but your efforts were rewarded when you heard a growl a few feet away. A growl that certainly doesn’t belong to anyone here.

Your eyes glistened in uncertain hope, turning your eyes to look at the approaching stranger.

Now that he was closer, you could clearly see that he was a dragon, his shark like teeth bared threateningly at the man around you, his tall and buff figure dwarfing the strangers around you.

“What are you trying to do to her ?” He questioned, his red eyes holding a bloody promise. Some wouldn’t bother for a mere stranger, but Kirishima wasn’t some. When he heard cackles and distorted crying, he hoped his keen ears were deceiving him, but his eyes testified.

“Nothing, move along.” Spoke the ‘leader’, who kept his hands around your mouth, his bravado was crumpling though, his hands were growing lax, but he still tried to keep the situation in his favor. Futile effort.

You shook your head desperately, your eyes bleeding his, watching them turn grim.

He closed his eyes and sighed.

“Close your eyes, you might not wanna see this!” He suggested way too cheerfully, giving you another look at his dragon teeth.

Nevertheless, you heeded his advice, closing your eyes tightly, the darkness slightly comforting, however, the loss of sight amplified your other senses, and you were once again painfully aware of the grimy hand pressed against your mouth.

With your eyes shut, you missed Kirishima’s throat turning red as he conjured fire, the blistering rage leaving his throat and burning the man holding you. You quickly moved away when the hand left your mouth, but kept your eyes closed when you heard a painful screech. The fire of a dragon being the purest and most potent of its kind quickly transformed the man to ash.

You opened your eyes to see the remains of the man flying around the forest, disappearing into nothing along with his presence. By that point, the circle that previously surrounded you was obsolete, the cowards having fled to save their life.

You felt sick, having never witnessed something like this before, but you eased the guilt by reminding yourself that this man was going to sell you, make you a slave for some perverted and cruel old owner. Maybe even put you in a brothel with no escape. You should have been more careful, but now the lesson was seared in your head.

You could remember the barbaric laughs that rung all around you, finding humor in stealing your life, your future. They thought your struggle for freedom was comical.

They deserve to die, you bet they caused many others to wish they could. The life of slavery was a hard, inescapable one. The life of sex slaves even more so.

They deserve to die.

They do.

But that doesn’t stop your stomach from churning painfully, for your mind to keep replying the events in a loop, making you feel lower then dirt, even if you shouldn’t.

You felt nauseous.

You saw the dragon approach carefully, and despite your sickened state, you willed yourself to look at him.

“Thank you for helping me.” You said, giving him the best grateful tone you could muster.

It felt like an invisible weight was lifted from your shoulders when you saw him smile, but the sharpness of his teeth still served as a reminder of what he’s capable off.

He approached you slowly, tentatively, as if scared you might suddenly flee. Being a former knight, he was well trained into how to use his fire powers and such, so he made sure not to hurt you, but he was sure that something like that might be traumatizing for you, but it was the fastest way to ensure your safety.

When he stopped in front of you, you could clearly see his intimidating height, he towered over you, but it was hard to find him scary with that smile he sported.

“Hey, I’m sorry about that, are you ok ?” He questioned in a low voice, attempting not to sound intimidating. He visibly exhaled when he saw you nod.

“What are you doing here at night all alone ? Are you trying to reach the town ? I can escort you there.” He tried to berate you for your carelessness, but he saw how shaken you looked, so toned he down the scolding. He saw how the soft rabbit ears you had were droopy, the fluffy appendages signifying your mood.

“I don’t know where I’m going.” You confessed.

A minute passed, carrying the ongoing silence with it as you nervously fidgeted.

“Huh ?” Came the dragon’s dumbfounded response.

You lifted your head, your eyes looking up at him blankly.

“You heard me.” Came your brisk reply.

Kirishima furrowed his brows, trying to formulate a reply that wouldn’t offend you or worsen your state, but the frown on his lips showed how much progress he was making in that regard.

A chilly breeze swept past the area, making you feel frozen, even your bones felt iced. The forest was suddenly wider then ever, and you were suddenly just alone as you had been when you were 7. The moon shone, but it didn’t provide any light.

Your throat felt clogged, you tried to snap your self out of it, to say you were ‘fine’, and that ‘yes, I am going to town’. But the words wouldn’t come out, the lies refused to leave your lips.

Because no, you weren’t alright, the man you loved, the man you helped win wars, the one you woke up every morning wondering what the day held for the two of you, the one you sometimes spent leisurely nights with, planning your future, and making promises to love faithfully despite his flaws; is marrying someone else.

He said he doesn’t care that you aren’t royal, told you to stop pestering yourself with those troublesome thoughts, because he belongs to you and only you. But he lied, he strung you along, then told you to leave. Callously showed you the truth in a letter he wrote accepting to marry a princess from a prosperous land.

It felt like the weight of the world was sitting on your heart, crushing the already bruised organ.

A breeze came by again, but your face felt especially cold. You lifted a hand up, softly touching your face and feeling wetness coating it.

Oh... you were crying.

A hand clasped your shoulder, squeezing assuringly. He more or less got the picture.

“Let it out, it’s ok.” He said. You felt overwhelmed by the kindness of a complete stranger, and -

the dam broke.

Your shoulders shook violently, tears streamed down your face in endless waves, and just when a wave crashed against the shore, another, more powerful one replaced it.

The man enveloped you in a hug, his warmth cocooning you tightly, making the looming trees seem shorter and meeker, and the biting wind a little less cold. You stained his clothes, but whenever you tried to force yourself to talk amidst your tears, to apologize to him, to thank him, he would shush you and tell you to talk later.

Eventually, the onslaught of tears died down to harmless hiccups. Even tears were turbulent, and emotions were sometimes out of control, but the warmth of a complete stranger anchored you.

And when the hiccups stopped, you had a feeling that the everything will be alright.

.....

“- and he told me to leave and never show him my face again.” You finished with red rimmed eyes. The man, who you learned was called Kirishima, nodded in understanding, but his eyes help a solemn anger towards that pompous jackass. Your heart hardened at the memory of your ex lover, remembering his emotionless face as told you to read it. Knives stabbed into your heart as you remembered the words of his letter, how willing he was to set himself a wedding date even though you were the one that always stood by him and offered him endless support and love.

You ground your teeth in frustration, anger taking root where the sadness festered. But the ambers of the fire illuminating the rubies in front of you smoothened it out.

“He reeks of douchebag, totally unmanly. You’re better off without him.” Kirishima said, nodding to himself in agreement.

It was beyond his imagination how someone could not only do that, but take your home away from you for his own convenience.

“Do you have a place to stay ?”

You sighed, shaking your head. You had no one. He knew you had no one. Nowhere.

“That’s fine ! You can stay in my cave with me, I’d love some company !” He exclaimed cheerfully, trying to put you at ease. Truthfully, he really didn’t mind the company. After he quit being a knight to indulge in his natural instincts, he found an uninhabited cave, as mature dragons often do, and begun hoarding in it. The cave is meant to eventually be their own family home until the hatchlings reached a mature age and moved to their own caves.

Kirishima was trying to memorize how to get to his cave by foot, and he was glad he chose today, otherwise he didn’t want to think about what could have happened to you. You seemed like a really nice person, and regardless, nobody deserves to be taken advantage of.

He didn’t know where this sense of protectiveness came from, it could be his knight instincts making a reappearance, but he didn’t want you to get hurt at all.

He could help you get back on your feet, after all, there’s nothing that Kirishima loves more then seeing people smile in true happiness, and he has yet to see yours. He somehow felt sure it will be enchanting. But you were frowning now and looking all mopey and sad so he can’t tell.

“Would you like me to shish kebab something for you ? Food always helps me ! I can shish kebab a deer or a chicken, or a rab- no thats cannibalism for you right ? Uhh I can roast some carrots !” He rambled, watching as your stare got more and more weirded out. He started to feel self deprecating knowing he probably made you feel worse.

You laughed at his attempt to cheer you up, your mood lightening up by his intentions alone. You saw him go quiet and thought you’d better talk before he thought he weirded you out.

“You know what, I think I did bring some comfort carrots with me.” You said, reaching for your bag and pulling out some peeled carrots in a container. You gave the container to him, trying to muster a smile, although it probably looked awkward.

He seemed to brighten up, his dragon teeth making a reappearance as he grinned at you while enthusiastically taking the carrots from you.

“You can shish kebab the carrots, or whatever it is.” You said awkwardly, having never paid attention to those foods before.

He pulled out some stickes from his own bag, sticking it in the middle of the carrot so he can roast them comfortably.

Rabbit food, but he was too tired and cautious to haunt.

The carrots were clumsily made, but they tasted sweet after the roast, Kirishima appreciated the taste, although he still wanted meat. You, on the other hand, had your comfort food, but it felt like sandpaper as your mind kept replying the events of the day. Just yesterday, you felt like you had the world in your palm.

Everything passed by in a blur, you finished eating and then started walking, because sleeping here in dangerous.

You could see a faint trickle of light as the previously black sky begun turning into navy blue, and only then did you arrive to his cave. The cave that looked so high to seemed to be touching the clouds.

“If you tell me we are climbing that I’m going back to the forest.”

“Whaaat ?! No, no, I’ll fly us up there no problem !” He declared making your eyes widen in fright.

“No what the heck ?! You’ll destroy the trees !” You exclaimed in shock, unable to believe he’d be so willing to shift here and damage the beautiful trees.

His eyes widened, he shook his head rapidly while he rushed to explain “No ! I can semi transform, don’t worry.”

Your mouth formed an ‘o’ shape, suddenly seeing Kirishima in a new light. It takes an extreme amount of practice and mastery for a dragon shifter to do that. God, you really hope he doesn’t kidnap you. Maybe this was unwise, but you really wanted to sleep, and the streets were just as dangerous for all you know.

Kirishima impressively sprouted wings from his back, two horns grew on his forehead, and his skin pigmentation turning red, a clue to his dragon colour.

He carried you and flew up to his cave in ease, enjoying the familiar rush of air as he soured up to the sky, and the warm comfort of being back to his abode.

He saw the wonder in your pretty eyes as you took in the place, your eyes lingering on his massive hoard, whipping your face to him as you pointed a finger in its direction.

“You gathered all that ?!” You asked, making Kirishima puff up his chest proudly, who nodded at your question. Said hoard contained jewels unseen by the eyes of many in their lifetimes. It contained gold, rubies, emeralds, hand carved rings and hand made necklaces. Among many others.

Immeasurable to the untrained eye, but Kirishima knew everything about his hoard, down to the most minuscule jewels, because a dragons hoard is a sacred thing, a part of them, one could say.

But while every piece is cherished, one is irreplaceable. Kirishima walks over to his hoard, digging seemingly aimlessly, until he pulls out a golden ring with a ruby jewel incrusted in the middle, the first handmade jewel made by him, and the heart of his hoard. Without it, Kirishima would go crazy.

The ruby, which still shone immaculately, was his birth jewel given to him by his father.

He put it own, suddenly feeling content and safer with the weight of the familiar ring on his finger.

You looked on curiously, thinking that the red of the ruby complemented him pretty well, it brought the colour of his eyes out.

“It’s very pretty, did you make it ?” You questioned, peering at him inquisitively.

He nodded vigorously, moving his hand unconsciously to let you admire his ring better.

“I made all of those”

You did read something about dragons being hoard enthusiasts, you just didn’t imagine it’s to this extend.

Kirishima offered you some feather blankets to make your night more comfortable while you slept. Soon, you slumbered peacefully, feeling more content and safer then you have this whole day.

Life was more... anticlimactic after that day. But it a good way. You lived with Kirishima, due to his insistence and your situation, he persisted saying that you can stay with him as long as you need until you get your life back together.

He took you down the next day, as per your request, and escorted you to the town. He went to do his own thing, something about meeting old friends, while you searched for a job.

The town was full of all sorts of people, from mages to shifters, it was a very diverse place, you could even see some rabbits like you here and there. Back at the castle, there was a few rabbits that worked in logistics and the like, you were among them, as rabbits were great and distinguished problem solvers and thinkers.

Being a genius among already intelligent rabbits, you were given the opportunity to study at the age of 9 in the castle, and work there, which you did, but you guessed now you weren’t needed anymore.

Before you could get desponded, you walked around, taking the place around you but still careful not to get lost and stray to far from the meeting place.

You saw someone exist a place with two thick books clutched tight to their chest. You glanced at the door behind them, seeing an ‘open’ sign. You stopped in your tracks.

You could start there.

You pushed the door open, hearing a bell jingle, alerting a bespectacled tall man of your presence.

It was a large library, and from what you could see, there was only the man in front of you working, while a couple of others sat in the seating area reading quietly.

You approached him, making him smile politely and adjust his glasses which slipped down the bridge of his nose.

“Can I help you miss ?” He asked, his back straight as a rod.

“Yeah um, are you possibly hiring ?” You replied, getting straight to the point. He faltered for a moment, before contemplating quietly.

“I suppose it is incredibly hard to manage on my own...” he murmured.

“Very well then, can you come back tomorrow around this time ?”

You kept your excitement at bay as you reunited with Kirishima later on, who didn’t question you, assuming you came back with no luck.

This time, he made you fly on his back as he lead you back to his cave, and only when he came back did let the excitement take over. You put rationality on hold for a moment, overtook by the moment, and tackled him in a hug, bouncing on the balls of your feet.

Kirishima felt the wing knocked out of him, hugging you back awkwardly as he felt his face flush. ‘Damn, what happened ?’

You practically heard unasked question, and decided to elaborate.

“I got a job, and it was the first place I walked into ! It’s in a library.” You gushed. You liked libraries.

Kirishima’s cheeks quirked up, his eyes looking at you proudly, “I knew you could do it ! You’re so manly !” He gushed excitedly.

Manly ?...

“Huh, manly ?”

“Yes, To be manly you have to have a resilient spirit and courageous heart !” He explained, making you nod. Although you doubted his meaning, it was endearing, he was a pretty quirky dragon.

“Guess I’m pretty manly.” You mused.

...........

A while after working at the library, you managed to feel like you were finally getting back on your feet. You still think about Bakugo sometimes, and it still hurts, but the wound was scabbing, and the hurt was no longer threatening to pour out.

Throughout all of this, one thing was constant: Kirishima.

You will forever wonder what compelled him to offer his kindness to you for so long, but you will forever be grateful to him. When your heart was threatening to harden and ice over, he was be there to bring you warmth and melt it away, like a gentle flare he can breath out so effortlessly.

You never experienced having a friend like that, but you can admit that Kirishima was the best friend you ever had. He was different, but the more differences, the more things you can appreciate and learn about. He was not a man to shy away from helping someone, a quality he told you was hard earned; it’s something he had to implement into himself.

And when the moment came that you can move out, you didn’t expect it to hurt so much.

It almost felt like you were leaving your second home.

“What ? But you don’t have to go !” Kirishima said, quite loudly, that it bordered on shouting. He felt himself getting agitated, and his dragon become unsettled at the thought of you leaving. You don’t have to go.

“But, I’ve intruded long enough, I can’t take advantage of your hospitality any longer.” You coaxed, feeling yourself become upset too at seeing Kirishima’s frown. You never saw him so upset, he was always your cheerful, manly pillar.

“But you’re not intruding, I can’t even remember what it was like to live in this cave without you.” He persisted. But you had to stand your stance on this.

“You know I’ll still visit you, right ?”

His shoulders slumped, sighing, before nodding his head reluctantly.

It felt like he was parting away from his hoard for good, but he had to remember that you aren’t cutting ties with him. His adorable, bunny friend will still be around.

And so, you guys hugged goodbye, but with a promise of seeing each other.

He helped you move your stuff over to your new place, a small sharing house, you and one roommate. You accumulated quite a few things during your stay with Kirishima, along the things you took from ... that place.

Now, you got your own place, your own job, and an amazing friend, life was finally back on track, although very different from what you previously thought It’d be, this one somehow reminds you that you are still self sufficient, and even if a jerk didn’t see the point in having you around, you’ll still live a much better life then he can imagine. Even through the simplicity of it. And that, will be the best revenge.

A few months prior however, a certain hotheads mind wasn’t as lackadaisical about your parting as one would presume.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck

Did he really have to do that ?

Bakugo can remembers the heartbroken and betrayed look on your face and grimaces. He lost you forever now, didn’t he ?

Just like ripping a bandaid off, but it feels like his own heart was ripped out.

He stared at his wall, replaying his words.

He looked at his parchments, the courting letter he made you read flashes before his minds eye.

He tries to sleep, he remembers your adorable figure huddled up to him, demanding him to share his warmth, even though your own was so powerful, it seeped through to his very own blood.

He’s a king, he should behave like it and cut out those child like fantasies.

But then he thinks back to how he imaged you’d look ruling beside him. He always thought you’d look like a goddess with a crown adorning your head and a thron-

Bakugo grabs the nearest object, and throws it across the room, the chosen vase, unfortunately, shatters to it’s demise, it’s previous shape nearly unrecognizable, some pieces were so small, they were almost powder.

Bakugo grabs something else, throwing mindlessly, a beast who lost his sense of reason. He chose what he wanted to do, but his heart was protesting, urging him to go and fix things with you, to kiss you and tell you that you’re the only one for him.

Words that he spoke before, but didn’t live up to.

He looked at his room, panting in the wake of destruction.

Glass shards filled the floor, ink littered it, and blood was splattered, and Bakugou could vaguely feel a sting on his feet and hands, he wasn’t even what just occurred.

The servants cleaned it, and he finally managed to sleep, albeit restlessly.

When he woke up, a couple of hours earlier then he usually would, he sent for the butler, checking whether you were still here.

His heart fell when he heard that you left last night.

Fuck. Fuck. “Fuck.”

Where did you even go ? Bakugo processed the weight of his cruel actions. He sent you away from your only home, where was he expecting you to stay ? Was he stupid ? God, he must be a new, downgraded breed because what dickhead in their right mind would do this to the women they love ?

His chest ached, he urgently sent guards to the nearby forest and all neighboring places to look for you.

While they were busy, he busied himself with something of his own. He crabbed his quill and a paper, writing an apology letter and cancellation of the wedding. He doesn’t want to marry some pompous princess, and he certainly doesn’t really need to. He only needs you, with your support, he can achieve more then what a measly partnership through marriage can give him-

“We found no trace of her, my king.”

- but he’d already written you off his future.

A heavy weight pressed against his chest. If only he can do things over.

And a month later, he married a princess whose name he didn’t even bother to know.

He saw you you in every corner of the walls, he saw your nose buried in a book in the library, saw your eyes as the moon shone down on you. Even the flowers in his garden remind him of how they looked tucked on your ear.

His ... wife, he supposes, although he despised calling her that, was just as pompous, bratty and arrogant as he assumed. But her kingdom was powerful, now he can reap the benefits, hooray.

She always tries to get him in her bed ( Bakugo couldn’t share a room with her, a requested a separate room a week after they wed) and looks down on anyone, declaring them beneath her and not worth her time with an egocentric huff and an eye roll.

You’d never do that, you were always so compassionate.

The familiar weight pressed down even harder.

He wonders how you’re doing now. Are you happier without him ? Or are you still pining like he is. Did you... find someone else, God, he hopes not, as selfish as it is.

Just like ripping off a bandaid, he thought.

Which brings us back to here.

You sat on your bed, exhausted, but feeling as rejuvenated as ever. This is the first time you lived truly alone, and while is was slightly lonely, it gave you the feeling of freedom you never had back in the castle, or with Kirishima.

You felt like you wanted to take advantage of that, but instead you opted to sleep.

You slowly but surely adapted to your new routine, waking up, doing your shift, visiting Kirishima when you can, and spending the rest of the day lounging at home. Utterly mundane, and your roommate disapproves.

You weren’t exactly close to her, she spent her mornings somewhere unknown, and her nights partying, only coming home to sleep and eat.

Somehow, even though you moved out from Kirishima’s cave, it felt as if you’d gotten closer.

His red hair and crimson eyes made your heart do flips, and his toothy smile caused your stomach to do summersaults. It was a familiar feeling, it caused your heart to ache with a familiar warmth, but the organ was bruised.

Kirishima felt close to you, but so unreachable, he was a free spirit, who where you to bind his wings ?

So, this caused you to do the stupidest, and most cliche move ever. Yes, you avoided him. You stopped going to see him, bringing him trinkets.

God knows you missed his virile musk and familiar warmth, you missed even lounging on top of his hoard, something he insisted on you doing whenever you went to choose a spot to indulge in reading.

You used to compare him to Bakugo a lot, used to sometimes miss the blond man through Kirishima’s actions, but the moment you stopped doing that, the moment you thought about Kirishima whenever you pictured a future, it should’ve warned you, but you were too busy turning to an apple whenever he caught your stare and -

No. “Stop that” you muttered to yourself, putting away the last book in the return pile to it’s

section.

“Good work for today, (L/N) !, see you again tomorrow !” Exclaimed your employer, Iida, making you smile and nod as you walked, leaving the bookshelves behind you and bidding the bespectacled man behind the counter goodbye.

You opened the door, hearing the jingle that you became accustomed to as you closed the door behind you. You only managed to take two steps before your feet were lifted off the earth.

You gasped, instinctively hitting randomly, but relaxing your muscles when you heard a familiar voice.

“Heeey, no need for violence, or did you forget me already !” Although his tone was cheerful, there was a slight bitter note in it that you couldn’t ignore of laugh off.

“How could I forget you, Eiji ?” You replied sombrely, glancing but at him with a small smile, which didn’t manage to fully brighten the seriousness your eyes.

Eiji held on tightly to your midsection as he flew you guys up towards the sky, and it felt like he was carrying you to heaven. The pedestrians nearby stared in astonishment at what seemed to be something akin to an abduction. It happened way to fast for the moment to have been real.

Eiji brought you so high, everyone else looked to be the size of ants, their existence irrelevant, but coexisting with yours and Eiji’s. Everything below looked so unimportant, but the hands around you kelt you rooted to reality as wind whipped through your hair, and his muscular chest pressed against your back, making you scared of making the slightest movements that could shatter the moment.

Suddenly, the landscape beneath you was scrapped and replaced with rippling blue waves and sand. The blue looked so pure and unadulterated, that when Eiji brought you closer to it, you kept almost see your reflection. What a reflection, wide eyes with a mouth to match, and a sexy hunk staring back at you through the glacier mirror. You brought a finger down, touching the water and creating a small, unnoticeable ripple in the huge ocean, afraid of touching it with your whole palm and tainting it’s purity. A small white ripple as you flew was the only fleeting evidence that you ever made contact with something so divine.

How ethereal beauty is, Kirishima mused. He wasn’t about to let you be ethereal in his life though, because although enchanting, you stumbled upon him to stay.

Eventually, he landed down on the sand, putting you down to your feet gently, but already missing your contact.

You guys sat down, uncaring whether your clothes got sand all over them.

Kirishima didn’t try to mask his displeasure anymore, frowning at you grumpily.

“Care to explain why you’ve been avoiding me you silly bunny ?” He asked. The ocean continued to coexist beside you, but Kirishima was once again the only existence you cared about.

You felt the urge to pour your heart out to him, the words traveling from your brain, down to your vocal cords and to the tip of your tongue, and before after-thoughts could plague you and render you voiceless, you took the plunge.

“I like you, no scratch that, I love you.” You confessed, your eyes looking away from his, missing the crimson becoming as intense as a volcano at your confession. You loved him too ? A feeling so euphoric traveled through Kirishima, his fantasies of a future with you were now more than mere fantasies.

Your nervousness spurred you on, making you grab one of your fuzzy ears and caressing it as heated words came out like word vomit. You spoke and spoke, but Kirishima remained silent.

Suddenly, he lunged at you ferociously, stealing the very words from your mouth.

He brought his lips to yours, kissing you roughly yet passionately, as if he was pouring all his repressed desires into locking lips with you. His slightly chapped lips created just the right amount of friction as amorous sounds filled the otherwise empty ocean around you. You brought your hand to the back of his head and pulled him closer, taking his bottom lip and sucking on it gently, and he understood your cue, opening his mouth to let you kiss him deeper.

It felt before like you stood up steady in the dark, finding your footing after stumbling, now, it was like the whole world was being showcased in a clear white light.

You moved back to Kirishima’s cave, his words being ‘no mate of mine is going go be staying far’, you had to complaints. Finally, you can call this familiar place your home. While Kirishima used to be something of a freelancer, he eventually opened his own jewellery store, as per your suggestion. It became incredibly prosperous, but nothing can compare to the incredible jewels of his hoard. Or the incredible mating gift he gave you, a more feminine version of his ruby ring, hand made by him, every time you looked at your hand, you remembered his eyes and a rush of happiness would coarse through you.

Although the income was pretty high, Kirishima would never leave his cave, it was already humongous, so it wouldn’t have trouble fitting family. The business was only there to provide for your future kids with no trouble.

And as another year went by, a hatchling joined your little family. It was a baby boy with black hair and red eyes. Kirishima eventually told you that he wasn’t really a red head, but you could already spot the black roots showing so it wasn’t any surprise. You assured him that his natural hair colour was already manly. He never died his hair again. The baby boy, Eito sprouted wings at the age of two, and managed to fully shift then. Quite early, bit we made do.

The process of teaching him how to fly was frightening for you and Eito though.

You had to have him shift, then throw him off , kind of like teaching a bird how to fly.

Eiji waited down just in case, but your nervousness vanished when Eiichi flapped his wings and soared.

A year later, you gave the three year old Eito a baby sister. A gorgeous baby with red eyes and your (h/c).

Finally, the huge nest Eiji created could be out to use.

.......

Bakugo finally found a reason to divorce his wife after a year of marriage. He found her giving the head night flirty looks, and his suspensions were later confirmed when he caught them in bed in her chambers.

The divorce was quite swift as her kingdom sought to keep the shameful scandal under wraps.

Now, Bakugo could mask in his memories of you in peace.

Four years passed by in a blur for Bakugo. It’s been five years since he last saw you, and weight on his chest didn’t get any lighter. It still hurts to think about the future he scrapped, the things he could’ve been doing with you had he not gotten arrogant and decided marrying a princess was better than pursuing his future with you.

He never searched for you again after that night, you’re better off without him. What would he say to you anyway ?

He’s pathetic, still pining after a woman who he hasn’t seen in 5 years.

........

Bakugo was in a nearby village, looking for any suspicious activity relating to the recent abductions. He wasn’t required to be here, but he had nothing better to do. He’s always at the top of his work.

He walked around, straining his senses to try and capture anything conspicuous or otherwise.

He eventually found himself at a tiny playground for kids. Although by the time he arrived there, the sky was painted a hue of orange, and the park was empty save for one lone figure on a swing. He would have turned around, but he was out for anything, and being at a kids park was slightly odd.

He looked at the figure, and his throat felt as dry as a Sahara. His heart palpitated wildly when he saw your familiar figure parched on a swing cooing at a bundle in your arms.

He always thought imagined what you’d look like with a baby in your arms, but seeing it now caused him un imaginable pain. His heart burnt, as if a dagger coated with poison kept stabbing him time and time again.

Before he knew it, his feet carried him over to you, and now his shadow loomed over your figure.

You looked up, your pupils shrinking upon seeing his familiar face, hooded with a pessimistic sheen. You’ve never seen him look like this, even when he kicked you out, its a foreign look on his face, like looking at a piece of art you’ve long given up on.

“(Y/n), is it yours ?” His strained voice asked, so softly, if could have disappeared with the passing wind. He was staring at you, his vermilion eyes seeing yours for the first time in years. You’d gotten even prettier.

“Yes, her name is Eiko.” His heart dropped at your answer. You seemed fo live her a lot, you probably loved her father a lot too. A pang went through him at the thought of the lucky bastard.

He looked down at the girl, he could pretend for a moment that her red eyes were his.

How ironic for your daughter to have the same - or at least similar - eye colour as him.

It’s definitely a slap in the gut when he sees a dragon’s mating mark on your neck, and then to see said dragon himself.

“Heey babe, I got you crepes !” He said, kissing you on the cheek as if you’re the only person he sees. Which is proven when he say Bakugo and frowned, turning to you.

“Babe, who’s that ?” He asked innocently, making Bakugo grind his jaw. His head felt shaky when he saw a short boy come out from behind his dad’s legs. He looked a lot like his father. You had what seemed to be the picture perfect family.

“It’s nobody Eiji.”

#bakugou katsuki fanfics #bakugou katsuki imagine #bakugou katuski x reader #bakugou x reader #bnha fanfiction #katsuki bakugo x reader #mha bakugou #mha kirishima #kirishima x y/n #kirishima imagine #bnha kirishima #dragon!kirishima #fantasy bnha #kirishima eijirou #kirishima eijiro x reader

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biderboy · 4 years ago

Text

I Miss You || P.P + The Marauders

description- peter reminisces in what he had before the war

tw - mention of death, violence, and abuse

November 3rd, 1981

peter laid on his back, staring at the old, battered ceiling above him. there were rips and tears, holes covering most it.

he was alone, not that surprising. he’d been alone for awhile now, even before that night.

he winced, closing his eyes before the tears had a chance to surface.

it’s been 3 days.

he could remember the way james’ eyes filled with regret, swirling with the disappointment he no doubt felt the moment he caught peter’s eyes.

he could remember the way he frantically deserved for his wand, but peter knew it was too late, james’ wand laid heavy in his pocket, and peter’s hands shook as he watched his best friend call out to the love of his life, his dying breath begging them to run.

peter winced, he didn’t deserve to call james his best friend, not after what he did.

but he could remember the sickening sound of james’ body hitting the floor, he remembers the flash of light, the laughs surrounding him as his blood rushed to his ears and he struggled to breathe, as if he was the one hit with the killing curse.

and when he walked past, james was clutching onto a necklace he was wearing. peter had to will the tears out of his eyes, that was their necklace.

each marauder had one, a necklace enchanted with their magic, just like the map, so none of them were ever alone.

even remembering it now, peter felt a tear fall from his face. james died clutching that necklace, and peter didn’t even deserve to be thinking of him.

peter didn’t deserve to be thinking about any of them, yet for the past 3 days it was all he could do.

sit in this room, in some abandoned house in the woods, laying on this bed, holding onto a pillow as if it was a life source.

he hadn’t eaten, or drank anything really. he figured he didn’t deserve it, a slow, painful death would be the closest to what he did deserve.

all he’d done was sit and think. he hadn’t let himself cry, or make any noise. but he wanted to, he desperately wanted to. he anted to rip the house apart around him, he wanted to scream until the gods brought james back, he wanted to scratch at the mark on his arm, he wanted to yell for someone to hold a wand to his throat, or at the very least, knock some of his teeth in.

he wanted to break and break and never stop breaking.

the deaths may have not come from his wand, but the blood was still on his hands.

not that the world knew that, no, they thought sirius had done it. sirius black, of all people. sickening, for them to think he’d ever be as low as peter.

peter could remember him too, the way his hands shook and his teeth gritted as his gripped his wand so tight his fingers turned white. he remembered sirius running, tears streaming down his face with cries of “why?” and “how could you?” falling from his lips.

peter wishes he had an answer for him, he wishes he knew.

but in reality he had no reason, he was not tortured, he was not manipulated, nobody was held hostage, nothing. he just did it.

and peter reckons that’s the worst part.

most people have a reason, most people have a story, a loss, something to fight for. and yet peter did not.

he reckons that makes him the worst kind of monster.

he held the pillow a little tighter, breath picking up in his chest.

remus, oh remus.

remus was on a mission, he very well was probably still on that mission.

what would he do? will someone send him a letter? or will dumbledore visit him himself?

will remus be okay? james and sirius, both gone. remus will break down. remus will claw at his skin, throw himself at walls, let himself be used as a rag doll. remus will spend full moons alone again.

peter’s heart stopped.

remus would be alone. remus will get hurt. remus’ wolf won’t know what to do, it’ll rip him apart. remus won’t be able to patch himself up, he won’t be able to get help. remus might just let his wolf ruin him. remus might die too.

“no, no, no.” peter whimpered, shaking his head, breath becoming quicker.

‘sirius will die too’ a voice whispered back to him, and peter squeezed his eyes tighter, willing the bad thoughts to go away, just for one moment.

they can’t die, they can’t. peter doesn’t want them to die, peter didn’t mean for them to die. he was suppose to save them, they can’t die.

peter was pushed back into memories he wished he could forget, but desperately clung onto.

i. peter could feel the blood rushing to his head, could feel his own heart racing to get out of his chest. it was too loud, there was too many people, their magic was overwhelming.

peter wanted to cry, he felt the tears swelling in his eyes. he just wanted to go home.

he gasped as he felt a hand slip in his, turning to his right, he saw a flash of a smile so bright it rivaled the suns, long black hair, blue eyes, sirius.

he tugged on his hand, leading peter away from the crowded common room, into the quiet, safe place of their dorm. leading peter to sit on james’ bed before crouching in front of him.

“pete? are you alright?” his soft voice carried through the room, past the blood clouding peter’s ears, rushing through his body like a deep breath of relief, to have something to familiar.

peter tried to nod, tried to tell him he was okay, he was fine. but his body wouldn’t listen, and instead the overwhelming pressure of the entire day crushed him, letting the tears he’d been so desperately trying to keep at bay, fall.

sirius was quick, eyes scanning to make sure peter wasn’t hurt, before gently pulling the 15 year old to his chest, combing his finger through his hair as he hummed a tune peter could not make out.

peters hands came to clutch at sirius jacket, gripping tightly like it was the only thing keeping him from sinking into the earth, and letting it swallow him whole.

sirius was patient, letting peter cling to him, letting him cry, and he just sat there, holding him together, softly singing.

sirius was always this soft, this gentle, with peter. he cared like an older brother, wiping his tears, promising him it would be okay, swearing not to leave his side. sirius always said what peter needed to hear, sirius was always there when peter was overwhelmed.

now was no different, as he pulled away, using his sleeve to wipe the tears from peters face.

“would you like to take a nap?” he asked gently, gesturing to the giant pile of blankets james’ kept on his bed. sirius did not question if peter was okay, he knew he wasn’t, or if he wanted to talk, he knew he didn’t.

peter nodded, scooting up on the bed, letting himself be wrapped in a blanket that smelled too much like james, but was glad for the familiar comfort. and managed to smile when sirius plopped next to him, his won blanket wrapped around him.

and sirius just stayed there, gently humming that same song, letting peter bask in the presence of not being alone, as long as he needed.

no words needed to be said, peter eventually drifted off to sleep, welcoming the comfort sirius radiated, like the stars on the darkest nights.

and when peter woke up, sirius was still there, reading some muggle book he got, and peter realized then that sirius wouldn’t leave him. that sirius was his brother. that sirius loved him.

ii. peter hated eating alone. it reminded him of his house, how he’d sit at the kitchen table hearing his parents argue, forcing himself to finish the food in front of him so he could go back to his room.

he hated being alone in general, but especially when he was eating. but james had quidditch practice, and sirius was in detention, so he sat down for dinner alone.

granted there was other gryffindors, lily evans was just a few spots down, marlene was with her as well, but he wasn’t that close to them, he didn’t feel safe with them.

peter picked at his food, moving it around with his fork as he felt a sickening feeling wash over him, he hated it. maybe he’d take the food back to the dorm, atleast he’d be in his bed rather than surrounded by people who didn’t notice him.

yet, before he could make a move, someone say down in front of him. peter made a move to look up, eyes going over the tan sweater, landing on a scar ridden face he’d never been happier to see.

“moony” he breathed out, relief washing over him as remus gave him his signature small smile.

“hiya peter, you left without me.” his soft voice carried over the great hall, making peter feel better, safe.

remus was there, casually keeping conversation about the astronomy homework. he kept eye contact with peter, making him feel like the rest of the world dimmed out, and it was just the small safe bubble of friendship, he wouldn’t trade it for anything.

especially when remus offered an extra roll, eyes slighlty crinkled around the edges as he smiled. it reminded peter of home, not of the yelling and old rooms, not of the way he mother looked at him durning the summer.

no, it reminded him of laughs shared under stars light, of guitar strings playing loudly in common rooms, of lollipops and chocolate frogs, of train rides and quidditch games.

remus reminded him of home, the home he had here. the one that kept him safe, kept him loved, the home he had built with the marauders. the home they all deserved.

iii. james potter was the human embodiment of the sun, peter was well aware. the same way sirius was the stars, and remus was the moon.

james was always there, even when peter was a kid. to open his arms and welcome him to the light, make sure he was safe.

james was always there, for as long as peter could remember, and he was there every time he needed him.

peter felt his body want to give in as he stepped onto the platform, he mother hadn’t sent him off, not that she genuinely had in years, but she didn’t even bother this year. a push out the door, a threat to try and come back, and that was all.

peter was tired, emotionally, physically. he wasn’t even sure he wanted to get on that train, rather just take whatever he had in his trunk and run off to some muggle town he’d finally be at peace in.

and he was debating, it was their last year at hogwarts, he didn’t need to be there, not really. the war was raging on, the classes he’d take wouldn’t even matter if he died after one step into the real wizarding world.

and plus, the marauders would be fine without him, he thought bitterly. the sun, the moon, the stars. there was no room for him, and that was fine. it was okay, they all looked so happy together, they belonged. he was happy for them, it’s all he ever wanted.

peter went to go turn around, to really leave, when he heard it. a shout, so distinctive it made his heart race and his head turn around.

“PETE!”, and there he was, the sun himself, arms spread wide, giant smile on his face. his trunk was thrown carelessly beside him, as james stated to walk towards peter.

and almost as if james knew, as if he could take one look at peter and tell, he wrapped his arms around him, engulfing him in the warmest, most secure hug he’d had in months.

“missed you peter, you didn’t visit this summer.” there was almost a pout in his voice that made peter stifle a laugh, letting himself be squeezed against the boy tighter, letting his own arms wrap around james and practically melt into the affection.

“sorry” he mumbled, burying his face in james’ chest, eyes closed to prevent tears from falling, what a baby, he thought.

“‘s okay, just not the same without you.” and that, james always knew what to say. what to do. peter felt like he didn’t belong, like he was floating away, but james pulled him back to the ground, every time.

peter wanted to cry, feeling at home with his best friend. he couldn’t imagine why he thought he could do it without him, without them. because here, now, waiting for remus and sirius on the platform, peter finally let himself breathe, let himself feel.

and he felt like he belonged.

tears were finally falling, as peter grasped righting to the pillow, burying his face into it as if it would stop the sobs that raked his body.

it wasn’t fair, it wasn’t.

flashes of smiles and warm hands, star nights and study groups, flying and crashing muggle towns went through his head.

he tried to shake them out, make them stop. he didn’t want to think about it, he didn’t want to think about what he had, what he ruined.

but his brain never listened, and the universe was no longer on his side.

as he thought, without the sun, without the moon, without the stars, the universe was nothing. without them, peter was nothing.

a horrid sob ripped from his throat, his whole body shook, it was cold, but he deserved it.

his hands desperately grabbed into his own necklace, ripping it off his chest and throwing it across the room, a dull thump making its way to his ears.

“i miss you.” he sobbed, as if it would bring them back, as if it would take him back in time, to when remus would wipe his tears, and sirius would read out loud, and james would rush into a hug.

but it didn’t, and it never would.

“i miss you.”

#a peter fic??? woah #kinda nice isn’t it😩#peter pettigrew #remus lupin #sirius black #james potter #peter pettigrew angst #sirius black angst #james potter angst #remus lupin angst #the marauders angst #the marauders fic #the marauders era #the marauders #hp fic #angst #hp angst #sorin writes

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brywrites · 4 years ago

Note

i just finished tkow and this may sound like a wild request but can we get a story for elizabeth’s birthday? maybe like her turning 5? and reid and bianca throw her a party?

A lil more “domestic Reid family fluff” coming your way, anon!

Elizabeth had a thing for frogs that year, and so their living room was decorated with green streamers and paper mâché, little green stickers and posters, and plenty of big-eyed, smiling amphibians. The day had been a flurry of activity as they welcomed a dozen small children into their home – friends from preschool as well as Michael and Hank. Henry hung around with adults, mostly excited to tell his godfather all about what he’d learned about planets at school. There had been games of leapfrog and tag out in the backyard, and Garcia had brought her ukulele to perform a silly song-based skit about tadpoles growing up and turning into frogs.

The party had been an all-around success, as far as fifth birthday parties went. The cake had won over their small guests – fluffy layers of chocolate with ganache in the middle and bright frosting that that featured a happy frog on it that Bianca had lovingly hand-baked. The frog- themed scavenger hunt Spencer set up around the house kept them busy for nearly half an hour. And Eliza had a smile on her face the entire time. When things wound down and her friends headed home, she’d been eager to try out her new frog-shaped kite and Garcia had begged for permission to take her out to the backyard.

“I’ll keep a close eye on her,” she’d insisted. “Besides Luke and I would love to spend a little quality time with our favorite birthday girl!” And so they’d agreed. It gave them time to tidy up and take a moment to breathe, for which they were both grateful.

Bianca checked the living room to make sure nothing was left behind, and when she returned she found Spencer standing at the kitchen counter with a gift-wrapped bag and a snickerdoodle cookie on a plate. There was a tiny candle stuck in the center of it, it’s flame flickering softly.

“What’s this?” she asked.

He broke into one of those crooked grins she so dearly loved, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he held the plate out to her. “Happy birth day.”

His words were a puzzle, she was certain, but she couldn’t quite work them out. She tilted her head in question. “But it’s not my birthday.”

“No,” he said. “But it is the day that you gave birth.” He sent the bag and plate down on the counter. “I was just thinking the other day about birthdays and what they mean. And make no mistake, I absolutely love that we get a whole day to celebrate each other’s existence. Because I am so happy that our daughter exists. But if we’re being honest, you did all the hard work that day.”

When she laughed he said, “It’s true! Childbirth is consistently rated as one of the most painful human experiences, and as someone who has been shot, I find it difficult to comprehend what a pain worse than that must have felt like. You were in labor for seven hours! Seven hours! And before that, you were so nervous about being a mother. You dealt with all those fears and changes, not to mention me being in prison.” Five trips around the sun later, and looking back on that year of their life was still difficult. “So I thought that you deserved a little celebration for all of that, and for being the best mom and partner in the whole of human history.”

“The whole of human history? That might be overselling it.”

“I’m a genius,” he said, winding an arm around her waist. “So it has to be true.” Then he grabbed the plate once more. “Quick, make a wish before it burns out.”

Bianca looked down at the flickering candle. And she glanced out the window where Penelope and Luke were kneeling in the grass to help Eliza hold tight to the handle of her kite, flying somewhere up out of view. Then looked at Spencer, smiling at her, standing in the kitchen of the house they’d built a home in. It had been five years of bliss since Elizabeth Luna Reid came into the world. It wasn’t always easy and certainly it wasn’t perfect, but they were a family and they were happy and they were home.

She shook her head. “What am I supposed to wish for? Everything I could ever want is right here.”

Spencer considered this. “Well then,” he said. “I’ll make a wish for you. I wish for you to always be safe. For every book you read will be a good one, and every poem you write will have just the right words. For have a long and happy life. And for you to always know just how loved and celebrated you are. Because you are so loved, Bianca.”

He blew out the candle with a gentle breath. “Do you remember the day we first met? I told you I had an eidetic memory and you-” he laughed “- you apologized to me, saying that you wished you were giving me happier memories than a few dozen files of crimes against humanity.”

“Did I?” she asked. She could never forget the first time she saw him or the words they exchanged the day or so many other moments in their life, but she didn’t remember that very first conversation other than fleeting memories of being surprised by Garcia and Morgan’s banter and being fascinated by Spencer.

“You wished for something for me that nobody else had before. And then you made it true. You’ve given me so many happy memories since that day.”

“You gave me a home,” she said. “And a family. And the kind of love I thought I’d only ever write about. You make me happy every day.” She pulled him close enough to kiss, feeling him smile against her lips. His hands slipped under the hem of her shirt, his fingers warm against her skin as he pressed her to him. In the business of the birthday party, she’d hardly had a moment alone with him all day, and it felt so good to be held by him.

“Shield your eyes, Eliza Lou!” Garcia shouted. “You don’t want to catch the cooties!” They spun around to see Luke and Garcia in the living room. Penelope covered Eliza’s face with her hands, and the little girl stood there laughing, clutching her frog kite tight.

“You’re not trying to catch up to the Morgans are you?” Luke teased. Savannah had just given birth to their second child two months ago.

“Oh no,” Bianca laughed, her cheeks turning pink. “One is enough for us.”

“After all, why mess with perfection?” Spencer said, lifting Elizabeth into his arms and kissing her cheek. They bid farewell to Luke and Garcia who had to go let Roxy out and sat down with Eliza to help sort through her birthday presents.

She was telling them all about her friends and the games they played today when she paused, looking at a book in her hands that had a frog in a cape on the cover. “Daddy, did you used to be a superhero?” she asked suddenly.

“What do you mean?” Spencer asked.

She shrugged. “Michael said that you used to be a superhero like Aunt Jennifer is. But that you’re not anymore.”

Oh. That kind of superhero. “Well,” Spencer said. “Yeah, I guess I was. We all used to work together to fight bad guys – me and a lot of your aunts and uncles. Grandpa Dave, too.”

“He said that you stopped being a superhero because of me,” she said. Her lip quivered as she looked at her father. “Did you hafta give up your superpowers because of me?”

Spencer’s expression fell at the same time Bianca felt her heart sink. Their daughter’s question had come seemingly out of the blue but now she understood. They hadn’t told her much about Spencer’s past in the BAU, figuring it was best to wait until she was old enough to understand. Michael must have told her something, and while she was sure that he had meant no harm, Elizabeth had misunderstood his words. She thought he wasn’t allowed to be a hero because of her.

“Oh sweetheart, no,” he said. He reached out to stroke her hair, trying to calm her. “No, that’s not true. I didn’t have to give up any superpowers. But I stopped chasing the bad guys when you were born because there were bad guys that wanted to try and hurt you and mama. I didn’t want you to get hurt, and I knew that all of my friends like Aunt Jennifer could stop the bad guys without me. I didn’t want to be a superhero anymore. I just wanted to be your daddy. Is that okay?”

“Yeah, that’s okay,” Eliza decided, her smile returning. “You can still be my hero. And mama!” she added.

Spencer laughed, grabbing her in a hug. He reached over to grab Bianca’s hand. “Yeah, your mama is my hero, too. So, was it a good birthday?”

“The best birthday ever!” she said. “I was so happy the whole time!” She threw her small arms out wide to demonstrate just how much that was.

“Us too,” Bianca said. “You make us so happy, Eliza Lou. And we love you so, so much.”

“I love you more,” she said, clambering into her mother’s lap and hugging her tight. Bianca kissed her forehead. Five years ago, their little family had grown by one person, and she remembered holding that small baby girl in her arms for the first time and thinking that nothing had ever been so perfect. But as each year went by, the happiness of that day seemed only to increase exponentially. Happy memories that they got to share together, and a million little wishes that were still to come true.

#tkow #the keeping of words

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rizlowwritessortof · 5 years ago

Text

Reunion

Just a li’l fluffy, smutty one-shot - Dean runs into an old high school classmate on his way through town. Hope you enjoy!

Pairing: Dean x OC

Warnings: None but fluffy smut, unless Dean being happy is a bad thing :)

Word count: 2587

Dean dropped down onto the bar stool with a weary sigh, ordered a shot and a beer, and checked his phone. Sam wasn’t back yet, so he had time. The place was just like every small town bar in every small town he’d ever been in – smoky lights, the smell of stale beer, the top of the bar bearing scars from fights and pocket knives and cigarettes from years past when they were allowed in these places.

He was very aware of the room, where there were people, where there were exits, that was as natural as breathing. He looked things over a little more carefully now, not that he was really that interested tonight, but… His eyes drifted over the blond at the end of the bar, the waitress over to his left, the little brunette at the table by the window. Back to the little brunette, who was staring back at him, a smile slowly lighting up her face.

She watched him, watched the expressions flit over his features – confusion, suspicion, contemplation, and then, finally, the dawning of recognition. A disbelieving little smirk curved one side of his perfectly-formed lips, and then he was heading her direction.

“Mandy? Mandy Cramer?”

Her smile bloomed fully now, her eyes shining as she looked up – way up – at him. “Dean Winchester. I’ll be damned.”

“Well, let’s hope not,” he retorted, gesturing at the chair across from her. “Mind if I join you?”

“Please!” She shook her head. “Wow. Dean Winchester. I never thought I’d see you again.”

“So, you still live here?”

She took a swallow of her beer and nodded again. “Yep. Believe it or not, I teach at the high school here.”

“No. Not biology?” He was grinning, and she laughed.

“No. Never got over that whole ‘dissecting’ thing. I teach English.” She tilted her head a little, amusement sparkling in her eyes. “I didn’t know if you’d even remember me.”

“Hey, you got me through that damn class. How could I forget?”

“You got me through it – if you hadn’t shown up that week, who would have cut up that frog? Or… the pig...” She shuddered, and Dean laughed. It sounded good.

“Okay, we got each other through that class.” That grin of his looked even better than it had in high school.

“I just wasn’t one of the girls you – uh – hung out with. So I didn’t know if I really registered, you know?”

Dean’s smile faded a little. “Yeah. I was a little...”

“Popular?”

He gave a chagrined chuckle. “Yeah. Let’s go with that.” He looked into her eyes and she felt the butterflies in her belly take flight. “Believe me, you registered. I just – I thought you were a little ‘top shelf’ for the likes of me.”

“Wow.” She smiled shyly up at him, then stared into her glass of beer. “That’s probably the nicest reason I’ve ever heard for someone not asking me out.”

“So you’re still single? I figured you for a husband and at least two kids by now.”

“Yeah, not so much. Might help if I’d get out of this dumpy little town. But the right guy just hasn’t come around. You know, to take me away from it all.” She looked up at him again. “So, what are you up to these days?”

“Just on the road with my brother, we do a lot of – uh – trouble-shooting type jobs, keeps us busy and on the move.” He kept his eyes on his hands, fingers peeling at the label on the bottle, waiting for the inevitable questions.

She leaned in closer, speaking softly. “You two are… hunters, right?” She watched his eyes widen in surprise before a closed-off expression slid into place, and she almost wished she could take the words back. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have… I just remember overhearing you and your brother a couple of times. And my uncle, my mom’s brother, supposedly was a hunter. Nobody talks about him much, but I heard talk when I was a kid. About how his wife died, and… Never mind, I’m sorry I said anything.”

“So you know?”

“Just kind of in theory. I was always told not to ask questions, it was a big taboo in my family.”

“Yeah, well, trust me – you’re happier not knowing all the gory details.”

She put a hand on his arm and gave it a squeeze. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to throw cold water on the conversation. I just wanted you to know you didn’t have to try and cover.”

He responded with a one-sided smile, seeming to relax a little. “Good. Sometimes being on guard all the time gets old. Maybe just because I’m headed that way.”

Now it was her turn to laugh. “Listen, mister, I don’t know if you’ve seen yourself lately, but if that’s what getting old looks like, I’ll take it.” She tapped at his arm, frowning up at him. “Besides, we’re the same age.”

“Yeah, forgot about that. But take it from me, you look great. Like, ‘if I didn’t know you, I’d probably be hitting on you’ great.”

She frowned at him with a mischievous twinkle in her eye. “So, because you know me, you aren’t going to hit on me? That seems unfair.”

His eyes narrowed, a thoughtful little pout focusing her attention on his lips. “You just don’t seem like a one-night-stand kind of girl.”

She smiled. “Well, it really isn’t a one-night-stand, is it? More of a reunion.”

He looked skeptical, and very cute with the smile teasing around the corners of his lips. “Don’t you have to ‘union’ before you can ‘re’?”

“Listen. Don’t argue with an English teacher over word meanings. Tell you what, why don’t we go to my place where we can relax. We can catch up, and we’ll just see where it goes. Besides, I’m hungry, and I make a mean queso.”

They made their exit, walking towards the cars, and Dean grabbed her hand as she reached for her door. “Can I just…” He pulled her closer, his eyes searching hers and finding no argument, and kissed her soft and slow, his hand resting at her waist. He watched her tongue dart out over her lips and smiled. “If your queso is as good as that – I can’t wait. Lead the way.” She looked up from beneath her lashes with a smile that punched an appreciative little growl from his throat, and he headed to the Impala to follow her home.

She pulled into the garage and he parked in the driveway, then waited at the front door. She let him in with a wave of her hand. “Welcome to my humble home.”

“Looks nice. Oh, hey, actual vinyl? I knew you were a cool chick.” He began rifling through the albums on the stereo rack, and she laughed.

“Okay, you take care of the music and I’ll rustle up some nachos. Beer?”

“Hell, yeah,” he fired back, loading a couple of albums on the turntable and firing it up. “Need some help?”

“Nah, but you can keep me company.”

They chatted and drank while she browned beef and melted cheese, then Dean grabbed more beer and followed her and the huge platter of nachos back to the living room. He moaned in appreciation as he stuffed a loaded tortilla chip into his mouth, his eyes closing as he savored the flavors. “This is awesome,” he finally managed, and she smiled as she chewed.

“Told you.”

“You said queso. This is a few levels above queso.”

“Girl’s gotta have a few surprises up her sleeve, ya know.”

“Oh, yeah?” He sucked the tip of his finger into his mouth, cleaning off the excess cheese. “So tell me, what else are you good at?”

She blushed, but smiled. “Why, sir, whatever can you mean?” The next album dropped on the turntable, and the beginning strains of ‘Pour Some Sugar on Me’ filled the room. She shook her head. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“Timing is everything,” Dean grinned back, reaching to tuck a lock of hair behind her ear, then bending to brush his lips over hers. “Been dyin’ to do this again.” She blindly felt around until her beer bottle hit the solid top of the table, then put both arms around his neck and let him and the music carry her away.

The hungry little noises he made were driving her crazy, and she let him pull her closer, lifting her knee over to straddle his lap and press herself against him. His hands were big and warm, roaming over her back and slipping down to cup her ass, kneading at her with a moan as she came in contact with his rapidly growing erection. She raised her head a little with a breathless gasp, her eyes closed as he continued to nibble at her lips. “You got a permit for that?” she teased, feeling him smile before he slanted his mouth over hers, their tongues dancing deliciously as she moved against him with an eager little moan.

“Let me help you with that,” he whispered, dipping down to nip at her throat, making her whimper shamelessly. He guided her to her back on the plush sofa, leaning over her and kissing her until she was squirming beneath him.

“They didn’t lie,” she panted as he raised up to his knees, reaching for the buttons on her shirt, slipping it off and draping it over the back of the sofa.

“Who?”

“Those girls back in high school who gushed over what a great kisser you were,” she teased, smiling at the rise of color in his cheeks.

“Yeah, well, we didn’t get to the really fun stuff. But I guess you can grade me on the curve.”

She arched up against his hands as he kneaded at her breasts, reaching behind her back to undo the clasp of her bra and tossing it to the floor. “You seem to be awfully good with the curves,” she gasped out as he tongued and tugged at her nipple gently with his teeth.

“I don’t mind doin’ a little extra credit,” he smirked, then sucked hard as she scratched her nails through his hair with a moan.

“Dean...” She was writhing beneath him, but he mercilessly attached himself to the other nipple, giving a little nip as she let out a needy whine. He finally raised up, looking down at her with glowing eyes as he unfastened her jeans. She grabbed his hand, smiling weakly at the crestfallen look on his face. “Just thought we could move to the bedroom. Much more comfortable.”

“Lead the way,” he said, helping her sit up and moving off the couch so she could stand. She turned to take his hand and he followed, stripping down as she threw back the covers on the bed and wriggled out of the rest of her clothes. Before she could turn around, his arms were around her, his lips on her neck and his seeking fingers roaming between her thighs, his erection hot and rigid against her lower back.

“Dean, need you,” she finally managed, and he turned her for a kiss, backing her up to the bed. “Condoms, bedside table.”

He nodded, watching her lay back on the sheets, as he found them and sheathed himself. He climbed onto the bed, the heat in his eyes making her blush as he settled between her thighs. “Ready, sweetheart?”

“So ready,” she breathed, tilting her head back into the pillow as he slowly pressed forward. She let out a pornographic sigh as he bottomed out, buried deep inside her.

He caged her in with his forearms and bent his head, little kisses to her forehead, her eyelid, her cheek before he kissed her for real, taking her breath away. He sucked lightly at the tip of her tongue and she contracted around him, making him groan into their kiss, and she slid her calves up the back of his thighs, clamping them tight around him as he began to move.

“Yesssss,” she hissed, meeting his every thrust, urging him to go faster, harder, as he sucked a mark into the slope of her shoulder.

“So fucking hot, you keep squeezing me like that I’m gonna explode.” He was muttering never-ending praises against her skin, letting out a soft growl as he hit just the right spot and she cried out, coming hard, her world spinning out of control. “Let go, baby, just let go,” he ground out, then gave himself over to his urges, fucking into her hard enough to drive her further up the bed, her nails leaving marks on his back that would last for days. “Fuck!”

She shouted his name as he finished, clinging to him with everything she had left, lost in the sensation of him throbbing and twitching inside her. “God. Oh, my God. Dean...” He let his head drop to her shoulder, lowering himself wearily to rest on top of her, his heart pounding against hers. She stroked her fingers through his damp hair, over his shoulders, holding him close as their bodies slowly calmed.

He finally shifted with a soft moan, pulling himself slowly free and dropping to the bed beside her. Grabbing some tissues from the bedside stand, he disposed of the condom, then collapsed next to her, his fingers finding hers and lacing them together. “You – you are definitely my favorite teacher.”

She giggled, rolling over next to him and raising up to let his arm slip around her shoulders. “Well, this was the best reunion I’ve ever had, so… all in all, I’d say it was a success.” She tilted her head to smile at him, closing her eyes as he kissed her, warm and lazy. When he stopped, she sighed, then sat up. “I’m still hungry.”

“Yeah, well – we didn’t exactly finish those nachos.”

“I’ll warm them up and grab us a couple more beers.”

“Awesome.” He watched unashamedly as she walked across the room to retrieve her robe. “We can eat, and then we’ve got some more ‘reunion’ business to take care of.”

She looked over her shoulder with a smirk. “Oooh, I like the sound of that.”

“Yeah, I definitely need to give you my oral report. You know, for extra credit.”

She laughed and headed down the hall. “Mr. Winchester, I think you’ve got a bright future ahead of you.”

~~~~~~~~~~

Sam handed his brother a coffee as he climbed behind the wheel, and he accepted it with a grateful nod. “Since you never came back to the room, I assume you had a good night?”

“Oh, yeah. Met up with someone from high school here, believe it or not.”

“Huh. Forgot we went to school here – what, for about three months?”

“Yeah. Kinda surprised she remembered me.”

“And didn’t want to kill you.”

He laughed, shaking his head. “Nah. Wasn’t like that. Not then, anyway.” He fired up the engine and pulled out of the parking lot. They drove for a while in companionable silence, and Dean rolled his eyes in annoyance as they entered a construction zone. “We’ll make great time now.” As he maneuvered his way through the cones and machinery, his phone buzzed beside him on the console. “Hey, Sammy, see if that’s important, would ya? Kinda busy here.”

Sam picked up the phone. “Mandy Cramer? That your high school thing?”

“Yeah. What’s she say?”

“Ummm… Not much. All it says is ‘A+.’”

Dean grinned. “Awesome.”

Tags for my lovelies:

@saenalife @deanscarlett @misswhizzy @jinkieswouldyoulookatthis @deansdirtylittlesecretsblog @geeklibrarian @leatherwhiskeycoffeeplaid @aprofoundbondwithdean @star-spangled-man-with-a-plan @mrswhozeewhatsis @littlegreenplasticsoldier @sleep-silent-angel @darcia22 @winchesterprincessbride @ackeviddlestan @ellen-reincarnated1967 @eyes-of-a-disney-princess @deanslittleangel2y5 @melanie451 @lovin-ackles @spectaculacular-sammy @bookchic20 @jodyri @selma-jean @savingapplepie-eatingthings @angelofwinchester17 @kittenofdoomage @masked-maiden42 @lean-mean-deanwinchester @ericuhlorain @undecided-garden @ceeceewinchester @typicalweirdbookworm @callmesweetheartifyoumeanit @youtoldalie @tanithlowisabamf @deandoesthingstome @jxackles @nerdwholikesword @soivebuiltupaworldofmagic @kreweofimp @gabavaldman @chaos-and-the-calm67 @darkx143 @disassociativedogma @ioanashalala @jencharlan @deansthirst @dorky-and-i-know-it @mischief-maker1 @hamartiamacguffin @winchestersandwordprocessors @percussiongirl2017 @bringmesomepie56 @akshi8278 @spn-dean-and-sam-winchester @torn-and-frayed @sandlee44 @kathaswings @evansrogerskitten @emoryhemsworth @peaceinourtime82

#reunion #dean fic #dean x oc #dean smut #dean fluff #my fic #i just love flirty happy sexy dean #can't help it

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thotfuss · 5 years ago

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I kind of agree with the other Annonymous writer, I have both your ex and your feed. She apologizes for the things she did wrong and never says a bad word about you. She fully admits to things. It does feel wrong to keep calling her out as an abuser because she has been getting targeted and crucified because of your words. Is that not just as bad really? Friends and family, of course, will always take your side ALWAYS. You should listen to your heart. I am sure you loved her once.

I’ll be honest, I wrote a really angry stream of consciousness response to this, deleted it, considered not answering this at all, wrote out an actual response, told myself I didn’t owe it to anyone to explain, deleted that, and then wrote it again. Maybe this is my fault for talking about it or referencing it on here, but I never used her url or name, and I never went into detail. I saw it as me using my own blog to express my feelings, which, maybe I shouldn’t have. So I’m sorry if that’s the case. i was never “calling her out,” simply expressing my own feelings on my personal blog, i’m sorry if that was irresponsible. But I am not okay with the messages I’ve been getting lately. This is one of...5 similar ones sitting in my inbox rn? So I am NOT answering this to put my ex on blast or to target and crucify her, and I DON’T owe this explanation to anyone but for my own peace of mind I’m going to explain! (under a read more for abuse tw)

First of all, even if she DID admit to things she did wrong and apologizes for them, it doesn’t make it...not abuse? I seriously doubt she’s getting targeted and crucified, I haven’t posted her URL on here, haven’t even used her NAME, and her family and friends were extremely supportive of her and her actions when all this was happening.

It took me MONTHS to even be able to consider labeling what happened as abuse. Even after my therapist, my family, my friends, EVERYONE who knew about even a FRACTION of what was going on, had said that it was categorically emotional abuse I still felt like i was exaggerating or asking for attention. and to be honest, I still feel like that!

My ex was insecure. I wrote everything that happened off as her being insecure for SO long, because every time I brought up an issue she would say I “wasn’t supporting her,” and that I should “know how it felt” because of my own issues with mental illness. But when I look back at some of the things that happened-I went to visit my sister back in September, and when I told my ex, she threatened to break up with me if I went. She also threatened to break up with me after my sister gave me a string bracelet she’d made me before leaving for college, because my ex thought that if I put it on, I’d be “replacing her.” I wasn’t allowed to hang out with my family in any capacity unless she was there. I wasn’t allowed to have other friends, I wasn’t even allowed to spend time by myself. She got angry if I spent time on homework, if I went home to do laundry, even if I wanted to sleep. She would say I’d rather sleep than spend time with her, so I was averaging 5 hours of sleep on a GOOD night. she lived about 30 minutes away from me, and I work a lot of night shifts.

I would often go home before going to her place to change, feed my frog, etc, and she would get FURIOUS over this. She forced me to keep my location services on at all times, despite my telling her that it made me incredibly anxious and paranoid. If she saw me at my parents’ house, my apartment, the store, ANYWHERE without me having told her that I was going there, she would call me until I picked up and explained.

She forced me to put her fingerprint into my phone so that she could go through my phone whenever she wanted. When I expressed discomfort, I was told both by her and her mother (who genuinely thought everything I’m outlining was an okay way to treat someone, which made it really hard for ME to tell that it wasn’t because I was surrounded on all sides by people telling me the opposite) that if I didn’t have anything to hide, it shouldn’t be an issue. She read through old chats of mine, and got upset about things I’d said to people before I’d even MET her-telling my friends I loved them, etc. She would monitor my social media activity, and if I was active somewhere and hadn’t messaged her back in a few minutes, she would call me repeatedly until I picked up. If I didn’t pick up immediately-If I was in class, at work, asleep, etc, she would later cite that as a reason she couldn’t trust me. There was one morning where I woke up and she had turned my alarm off, and was on my phone scrolling through my phone calls and asking why I had called a certain number the day before but hadn't called her (I had called my dentist's office to reschedule an appointment.) While I was at work, she texted me calling me a fucking asshole and a cheater, based off of this situation alone.

I’m an art major, and I draw a lot! I like drawing portraits, I’ll sketch people in class, etc, and when she saw that she would accuse me of being in love with the nameless stranger I’d sketched in the coffee shop or something. She told me that the figure drawing class I was taking was “basically cheating,” to the point that I dropped out of it. She would go through my sketchbook constantly, which is something that’s very personal to me and I told her this. She once again cited that if I didn’t have anything to hide, it should be fine. She got angry at me for drawing fictional characters, even guys, which. I’m a lesbian! But she would get jealous and have a meltdown.

She CONSTANTLY accused me of looking at other girls in public, even though I truly never was. I was driving us home from somewhere once, and looked in my sideview mirror to merge lanes, and she thought I was checking out the girl who was walking by on the sidewalk and blew up at me. Multiple times, she would get upset at me while we were driving somewhere and try to jump out of my moving car over an issue such as the one I just mentioned.

She would get mad when I wore makeup to class or work, or even dresses or nice clothes. I would tell her that I just LIKED that dress, or that I just enjoyed doing makeup, and she would say I was only doing it to ‘impress other girls.’ On the other hand, she got upset several times when I DIDN’T wear makeup when we went out, because she said I wasn’t making an effort for her.

She got upset at me when I didn’t finish meals, which she said triggered her own issues. I explained several times that my own anxiety (not food-related, just general) messed with my appetite a LOT, and made it hard for me to eat sometimes.

She also gets mad when I don't finish my food, and stuff like that. I get that that's because of her eating disorder, obviously, but she still takes it out on me. All of this, when I react defensively or show that I'm hurt by her accusations, she says that i'm not giving her the "reassurance" she needs.

When I brought any of this up, she would have a melt down and cite her insecurities and mental health issues. I have major anxiety and depression issues, I've been hospitalized for it before and go to therapy once a week and am also on a lot of medication for it. When I had depressive episodes, bad days, or anxiety attacks, she would often get mad at me, and said I was sulking, or she said that it must mean I didn’t love her because she didn’t make me happy enough. I usually ended up comforting her over it.

On the anxiety note, I also tend to break out in a rash on my chest and neck when I'm anxious, and I will clarify that this looks NOTHING like hickeys. My neck gets red and blotchy, and I get itchy. when this happens, she LOST it every time without fail, melting down and telling me over and over "stop lying! just tell me who it was who did you do this with," etc, etc.

She told me that if we broke up, she would probably let her own mental health issues get worse, and would stop eating all together. She also flat out LIED about this when I brought it up later, saying that I was the one who had threatened to hurt myself if we broke up. She told me this, and other people this, and made up similar stories, so much that I started to believe it. I was apologizing for my own existence by the end of it, for every word out of my mouth, I was going crazy. I didn’t even REALIZE how bad it was, until I mentioned to my sister that I hadn’t driven the 30 mins over to her house one night due to the bad weather, and she had called me and called me until I picked up, forced me to send her pictures of the roads(?) and then said she’d “rather have someone who would drive on bad roads for her.” This wasn’t even near the worst thing that had happened, but the fact that my sister CRIED over that made me take a step or two back. And I left. Like...a few weeks after that. and it was HARD, it was the hardest thing I”ve EVER had to do, because i GENUINELY thought I was condemning someone to die. Like she fucked me up that bad! I still feel guilty. But I did it! She told me that nobody else would ever love me like her, that nobody would accept my mental health issues, etc, but guess what! I did it!

And she STILL tried to contact me, refused to leave me alone, showed up at my WORK with a letter and flowers wanting to work it out (and sure she says this was romantic, whatever, but she forced me to unblock her number and hug her and now cites that as me “still feeling the same”) and made like...several different accounts to message me on here after I kept blocking the new ones she made.

I have NO idea what she’s saying about me, and I don’t care. I want more than anything to move on. I hope she’s happy, I do! I get really, really, angry about it sometimes and I feel horrible for the way her isolating me made me cut off some very important people in my life. I’m still hurting, but i’m HAPPY. I want to move on, I don’t want this to be who I am, it doesn’t define me and I’d love to move on and meet other people and not have this fucking haunting me! And she keeps finding ways to bring it up. I wish her no ill will, and I”m not saying she’s a bad person. I’m not! But I am entitled to my feelings in the matter, I”m allowed to say that it sucked, I’m ALLOWED to say that it was abuse because there are things that happened that I haven’t even told my therapist, because it’s too hard to think about. I’m allowed to move on. Please, please allow me to move on.

I’m not going to answer anything else about this, maybe I shouldn’t have talked about it in any capacity on here, maybe that’s my fault. But please stop messaging me about it.

#abuse

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heartofether · 4 years ago

Text

Episode 10 - Child TRANSCRIPT

[You can listen to the show wherever you get your podcasts, or go to our “Listen” page if you’re on desktop.]

AUTOMATED VOICE

Please state your message.

[THEME MUSIC AND INTRODUCTION PLAYS.]

VAL

Three-Eyed Frog Presents: The Heart of Ether.

[THEME CONTINUES BEFORE COMING TO A STOP.]

[PHONE BEEP.]

[INT. IRENE’S BEDROOM.]

IRENE

You’re not gonna believe this: I saw the meat lady at the grocery store again last night, and she was buying more raw meat. She was buying some other stuff this time too, like, normal groceries, but still a lot of meat. I didn’t want to bother her or make her feel bad or anything, but, I had to know. Why did she need that much meat?

She was in front of me in line, but luckily, I didn’t have much to buy. Just some chickpeas and coconut milk. I checked out as quickly as possible—the poor cashier looked like he got whiplash from how fast I swiped my card—and I ran out to the parking lot to meet her.

She had just finished loading her groceries into her car, but thankfully, she hadn’t left yet. She looked surprised when I ran up to her, but not afraid. She had this warm smile on her face, which eased my nerves, surprisingly. She asked if I needed anything.

[EMBARASSED] I probably should have introduced myself or said hello—that would have been the polite thing to do. All I said, though, was, “Why do you need that much meat?”

She didn’t get angry or upset. Somehow, she didn’t seem fazed at all. Maybe she had gotten the question before? That wouldn’t surprise me. She still had a small smile on her face when she answered, “It’s for my child.”

I was kind of surprised for some reason? I asked if she had multiple kids, and she said no, just the one.

“They’re on summer break,” she said, “and they start their junior year of high school next year. Isn’t that exciting? I remember being that age. Anyways, being a teenager and all, they’re growing a lot, so I have to make sure they’re well fed. Wouldn’t you want the best for your child?”

[STIFLED] I got kind of weirded out by that. I asked if they were getting fruits and vegetables, because those were all important, too. She said, “Well, protein is especially important for a growing teenager. Besides, they have special dietary needs.”

And there was that phrase again! “Special dietary needs!” I asked what exactly that meant, a, an iron deficiency, some sort of issue with their muscles. She looked at me with this—God, this almost tender look, as if she was my mother and I had just disappointed her.

She said, “I don’t want to speak for them. They get very embarrassed talking about it. I promise the meat won’t go to waste, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

[UNCOMFORTABLY] I apologized after that. She smiled wider, and said it was okay. Before I left, she gave me a mint from her bag. Even though I did nothing to deserve it but invade her and her kid’s privacy.

So, I guess that’s the end of the mystery of the meat lady? I still don’t know why she feeds her kid that much meat, but no way am I asking her again. Actually, after that experience, I kind of hope that’s the last time I see her.

[A PAUSE.]

IRENE

I should probably get ready. I just…I have a lot on my mind. Yeah.

[PHONE BEEP.]

[RECORDING ENDS.]

[ANOTHER PHONE BEEP.]

[INT. IRENE’S CAR AS SHE’S DRIVING.]

[SHE IS HEARD DRIVING IN THE BACKGROUND.]

IRENE

The landlord is sending a mold inspector to my house today. He said he’ll call me and let me know as soon as possible what he thinks the best course of action is. I might have to spend a night in a motel room or something, but honestly, it will be well worth it to finally be rid of that yellow mold.

Also, I stopped by the library last night to look for any evidence about the Lorelei thing, or, that entire coven that went missing. Sure enough, there were articles about it in the local paper while it was happening, but I’m surprised it didn’t make national news. It definitely happened—I could even find the missing persons reports online—but hardly anyone outside of town covered it, let alone anywhere outside of Washington.

Some online conspiracy forums have talked about it, but no one ever came to a solid conclusion as to what happened.

[A FORCED CHUCKLE.] Didn’t realize how close to home the whole situation hit until I started researching it.

[A PAUSE.]

IRENE

[SINCERE] I hope you didn’t get kidnapped, Rose—or, killed by some weird cult, or whatever. Though, for a while, can I be honest? That possibility actually kind of made me feel better.

[SADDER, MORE DISTANT] I mean, the alternative is that you chose to leave. For a while, I thought that if I could just pretend it wasn’t your fault, then that meant you kept your promise. [QUIETER] To not leave without telling me.

[A BEAT, THEN, A SHAKY BREATH.] I’ve thought about it since then, though, and I think you probably did choose to. That was what you wanted, right? You wanted the spontaneity, the excitement, the leap of faith, whatever. I wouldn’t be surprised if one night, you just decided you were tired of waiting, and left.

Doesn’t make it hurt any less, though. Knowing that we had plans to leave together, and you just decided it would be better to go without me. No warning, no big talk, not even a letter.

I’m not angry anymore, don’t worry. I’m so indecisive all the time, I probably would have dragged you down.

[STRAINED] Still.

[a long pause.]

IRENE

Why do I still tell stories to you like this is a conversation? [SHE SCOFFS.] You don’t care, you—

[SHE TAKES A SHAKY BREATH BEFORE ENDING THE RECORDING.]

[PHONE BEEP.]

[RECORDING ENDS.]

[ANOTHER PHONE BEEP.]

[INT. IRENE’S OFFICE.]

IRENE

I’m about to go on my lunch break. [SUSPICOUS] Haven’t heard from the mold inspector, which is odd.

Look, I just wanted to talk because…I’ve been thinking a lot. Especially after looking through the newspaper reports for the coven incident. I think—I think whatever’s happening, it’s the whole town. That’s gotta be it, right?

Okay, I know it’s absolutely wild. I’m not saying that this is like, one of those mysterious little towns with some big supernatural secret that the whole town is hiding.

[A BEAT.] But that’s basically what I’m saying. Why else wouldn’t this place show up on a map? And, also, why else would an entire group of people go missing without hardly any news coverage?

[RAMBLING] It’s like there’s some big thing—and I’m not sure if everyone in town knows about it, or just a select few—but it’s like some big secret that everyone just knows not to talk about. Only, maybe, people don’t actually know the secret? Because Phoebe, who should know everything because of her grandmother, still knows close to nil.

Maybe—okay, maybe it’s not a secret that the townsfolk are keeping, but like, the actual town is keeping this secret from not only its own citizens, but the world. It’s like, some big thing is happening and nobody actually knows what it is. They just know it’s there.

[A PAUSE.]

IRENE

I have no idea what the fuck that means or why I said that.

[THERE’S A KNOCK AT HER DOOR.]

CAROL

[MUFFLED] Irene?

IRENE

[SURPRISED] Mm—Yeah?

CAROL

Can I come in?

IRENE

Um, sure.

[THE DOOR OPENS. CAROL STEPS INSIDE THE OFFICE.]

IRENE

What’s up?

CAROL

[NOW CLEAR] I, uh… How are you doin’?

IRENE

[CAUTIOUSLY] I’m...fine? How about you?

CAROL

Ah, I’m alright—say, uh, not to infringe on your privacy or anything like that, but I wanted to ask you about somethin’.

IRENE

[SLOWLY] Go ahead.

CAROL

[WARILY] So, I was talkin’ to Aden the other day in the breakroom, and he mentioned to me that you’ve been having this...issue. Somethin’ about a huh...jeez, how did he put it, eldritch dirt abomination?

IRENE

[DREADFUL] Oh, god, did he tell you about the dirt thing—?

CAROL

[OVERLAPPING] I’m worried ‘bout you, Irene. Alright? There, I said it.

IRENE

[SHE SCOFFS.] What, is this an, an intervention? I’m fine.

CAROL

[CONCERNED] You’ve been acting strange since...well, ever since the day we met, I reckon. Er, no offense.

[A BEAT.] Still, first it was these recordings you do, talkin’ to someone who you say is never gonna listen. Now you’re trying to hunt down some sort of mystical forest monster that nobody else has ever seen.

IRENE

[DEFENSIVE] That’s not true. Alright, Dorothy Wood had a notebook—

CAROL

You mean the woman who used to run the bookstore? Bless her heart, but, nobody ever knew what she was doing in her private time. Not even her poor granddaughter.

IRENE

That’s what we’re trying to figure out.

CAROL

I just—I don’t want you to get involved with somethin’ you can’t turn back from. Alright? I, I don’t ever want to see you or Aden put yourselves in danger, and all this stuff you’ve been doin’ is just…

IRENE

[A BEAT.] Just what?

CAROL

Just, well, you know.

IRENE

[GROWING GRADUALLY MORE UPSET] No, I don’t. Say it. Do you think I’m being delusional? I know what I saw was real—

CAROL

[OVERLAPPING] I never said that, Irene. I just want to make sure you’re doing okay.

IRENE

I am. Okay? Everything’s just peachy. I’m doing my job just fine, aren’t I? That should be your primary concern, not whatever I do when I get home each night.

CAROL

[SHE SIGHS.] No, you’re right, you’re right. I’m sorry for bein’ so invasive.

IRENE

[A BEAT.] It’s alright.

CAROL

Just let me know if you ever need anything, alright? I care about you, not just as an employee.

IRENE

[STRAINED] Appreciate it.

[A PAUSE.]

CAROL

Say, you headin’ to lunch soon?

IRENE

Uh, yup, I was thinking about going out to grab something. Do you—?

[THERE’S FOOTSTEPS IN THE BACKGROUND AS ADEN WALKS BY.]

ADEN

[CUTTING HER OFF] Irene, have you downloaded it yet?

IRENE

[SHE GIVES AN OVEREXAGGERATED SIGH.] Not yet.

[MORE FOOTSTEPS AS HE WALKS IN.]

ADEN

Do you still not have enough storage?

IRENE

I have the space, I just have better things to do.

And I’m not a total caveman, you know. [UNDER HER BREATH] had Tumblr back in high school for a bit.

ADEN

[HE LAUGHS, OVERLAPPING.] Tumblr? Are you joking? You were a Tumblr kid?

IRENE

For like, three months! I was fifteen, dude, give me a break.

CAROL

[SHE CHUCKLES.] Anyways, I was just wondering if y’all wanted me to grab somethin’ for you while I’m out? I’ll take a list, if you want to start writing down your orders. I’ll probably go to the café nearby, if that’s alright with y’all.

ADEN

Oh, sure! That’d be great! Thank you! Irene, do you have some paper?

IRENE

Yup. Thanks, Carol!

CAROL

Not a problem.

[A PEN IS HEARD CLICKING, AND WRITING ON A PAD OF PAPER IS HEARD IN THE BACKGROUND.

ADEN

Actually, Irene, I was hoping to get to talk to you. Do you have any plans tonight? Because you still haven’t come over to my house yet, and I think it’s a crime I haven’t gotten to show you my collection of knitted cats yet.

IRENE

[TEASING] And I think it’s weird that you’re so passionate about showing off your collection of knitted cats.

ADEN

[DEFENSIVE] I worked really hard on them, okay?

IRENE

[SHE LAUGHS.] Mm, in all seriousness, maybe? I actually have a mold inspector over at my house today, and I might have to call him soon, because he still hasn’t...

[HER TONE BECOMES MORE SERIOUS.] …gotten back to me.

[A BRIEF, EERIE INSTRUMENTAL NOISE ECHOES IN THE BACKGROUND.]

IRENE

Why are you guys looking at me like that?

CAROL

[SHE CLEARS HER THROAT.] You said you had a mold inspector?

[CAROL’S VOICE SOUNDS CALM, BUT THERE IS A GROWING PANIC UNDERNEATH.]

IRENE

[SLOWLY] Yes. This mold started growing in my house when I first moved in, and it kept getting worse, so I hired someone to take care of it.

CAROL

[HER BREATH HITCHES.] And what exactly does this mold look like?

IRENE

Um…it’s yellow?

[CAROL TAKES IN A SHARP INTAKE OF BREATH.]

IRENE

[CONT.] Like, puss yellow? Kind of smells like rotten meat?

CAROL

Alright. Irene, what’s most important right now is that you stay calm.

ADEN

[MUTTERING TO HIMSELF] This can’t be happening, this can not actually be happening.

IRENE

Okay, what’s going on? What are you guys not telling me?

CAROL

Look, I need to go grab something, but after that, I think we need to go to your house right now.

IRENE

Wait, what—?

CAROL

[OVERLAPPING] This next part is very important: have you touched it at all? The slightest touch—

[CREEPY, TENSE MUSIC BEGINS BUILDING IN THE BACKGROUND.]

CAROL

[CONT.] —even just your pinky toe?

IRENE

[GROWING FRUSTRATED] No, of course not! What the hell is happening? Aden?

ADEN

[PANICKING] Irene, I’m so sorry. I’ve never actually experienced this before, I—I don’t—oh, Jesus, oh, no.

CAROL

Aden, it’s okay. We’re gonna be okay.

ADEN

But she’s—

CAROL

[OVERLAPPING] It’s fine. You just stay on hold for us, okay? I’ll call you if anything happens.

IRENE

[SNAPPING] Okay, you know what? I’m getting really, really fed up with things happening and me never knowing what’s going on. That’s all I’ve gotten ever since I moved to this town. So, either one of you tells me what’s going on, or I’ll go home and find out myself.

CAROL

[PANICKED] You’re in some grave danger, Irene. That’s the best way I can describe it right now, ‘cause we don’t got time. Just, trust me. Please.

[A TENSE PAUSE.]

IRENE

Fine.

[THE MUSIC ENDS WITH THE CHIME OF A BELL.]

[THERE IS A PAUSE BEFORE AN AUDITORY GLITCHING NOISE PLAYS, WHICH IS FOLLOWED BY A FEW SECONDS OF CHOPPY STATIC. THERE IS A CLICK.]

UNKNOWN VOICE

—hoped the Foundation would have been a little more generous with their funds, but, also I’m not surprised they—

[THE SPEAKER IS CUT OFF BY ANOTHER AUDITORY GLITCH.]

[PHONE BEEP.]

[RECORDING ENDS.]

AUTOMATED VOICE

Today's quote is: “My soul is a black maelstrom, a great madness spinning about a vacuum, the swirling of a vast ocean around a hole in the void, and in the waters, more like whirlwinds than waters, float images of all I ever saw or heard in the world: houses, faces, books, boxes, snatches of music and fragments of voices, all caught up in a sinister, bottomless whirlpool.”

Fernando Pessoa, as published in The Book of Disquiet, 1982.

[OUTRO MUSIC AND CREDITS PLAY.]

#heart of ether transcripts

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arolla-pine · 5 years ago

Text

Fake Dating - p.10

(10) - A nickname for him

The GPS informed them that they would reach Château d’Auvers-sur-Oise within an hour. They should use this time efficiently, because they were aware that three days given by Plagg weren’t too much for all preparations they needed to make.

“I guess we should start from the reason why we kept our relationship secret.” she began, trying to ignore Nino. “I think journalists will ask about it first.”

“Really?”

“They always pry about a bombshell. They won’t be interested in details at the beginning.”

“You sound like a specialist in media issues.” Adrien smiled.

“Well, I don’t have too good experiences with the press…”

“Seriously?” he was surprised. He couldn’t recall any scandalous articles involving LadyBug.

“There’s especially one journalist who really hates me.” Marinette sighed and looked through the window as if she remembered something from her past.

“But why?” Adrien asked intrigued, and Nino only pretended that he wasn’t listening.

“It’s all my pseudonym’s fault. At the beginning of my career Tikki decided that I should have a stage name. You know, she’s brilliant at her profession. She hid my identity so deeply that I was practically untraceable. And that made Alya mad.”

“Alya Césaire?” Nino spotted, slowing down unknowingly. Marinette looked at him uncertain, as if she forgot about his presence.

“Yes. Do you know her?” she asked suspiciously.

“No.” he replied shortly. “But we’ve had some problems with her once or twice…”

“So you know what I mean. Oh, if you saw her! Every single time we met at the press conference, she asked me a question that could help her to find my true identity.”

“But you don’t hide your name!” Adrien noted. “Yesterday you introduced herself as Marinette.”

“Now it doesn’t matter anymore, because my pseudonym has become a label itself. But Alya hasn’t forgotten the beginnings, so she still pesters me at each press conference. She takes revenge on me for hiding my identity in the past.”

“I can’t believe she didn’t find you. You know, on the street or something…”

“It wasn’t so easy. My personal image differs from the professional one. That was another Tikki’s idea to create an official LadyBug’s image that would be recognisable.”

“I don’t follow.”

“Every day I look like now. Jeans, T-shirts. Sometimes a dress… Usually I wear my hair up – a bun or ponytail. Or just hair down. On stage I wear two pigtails with red ribbons. And I always have a little ladybug on my cheek.”

“But you still look like you.”

“You’d be surprised how such details matter! I’ve met a lot of people who passed by me, glancing or even staring at me. And they always moved on, because they weren’t sure if it was me or not. I guess they didn’t want to accost a stranger or to feel foolish if they were wrong.”

“I have to share this idea with Plagg.”

“It’s too late for you. You’re too recognisable.”

“I have to admit that your manager was unusually determined.”

“She wanted to avoid a double marketing. You know, once they’re talking about Marinette, the other time about LadyBug. She directed all the efforts to promote LadyBug to let people associate my face with that name.”

“Like Madonna. Or Pink.”

“I’m flattered, Adrien. But they’re out my league.”

“I mean a label of a pseudonym. Nobody remembers real names of those stars.”

“That was what Tikki wanted to achieve for LadyBug. Of course, I’m not so arrogant to compare to such stars like Madonna or Pink. I’m not even a half of their talent…”

“You’re at your beginning. There’s a long way ahead.”

“Tikki also repeats that I should sing more often in English. That in French I have no chance to be known worldwide.”

“Look at Celine Dion.”

“Adrien, please… Stop comparing me to another star!”

“I’m not comparing. Just try to inspire by their experiences. Celine Dion has promoted French songs all around the world.”

“God, I feel like I was listening to Tikki right now.” Marinette sighed. “Did you talk to her?”

“I think I’ve just said something obvious. I don’t know why you don’t want to accept a piece of advice. Especially when two people from your inner circle advised you the same.”

“Let me remind you that you were included in my inner circle yesterday.” she stated wryly.

“So?” he grinned.

“Never mind.” she ended the discussion and added in a reserved tone: “Thank you for your advice. I’ll think about it.”

“You seem not to believe in your real position in the music market.” Adrien commented.

“How did you figure it out?” she asked outraged. “After these few sentences I said? We’ve known each other since yesterday, My Frog!”

“Frog?” he spotted.

“You were to be a prince, but now I prefer to turn you into a frog!”

Adrien couldn’t resist and burst out laughing. She fascinated him more and more. For fifteen or twenty minutes they had been chatting like good friends, she even shared quite personal afterthoughts with him. Yet became irritated and outraged as soon as he dared express his opinion on her career. She ended the discussion immediately, and he – instead of withdrawing from a dangerous minefield, felt like continuing teasing her. Weird. He’d never felt that way before.

“You would have to kiss me first, Princess…” he whispered in her ear that made her blush instantly.

“Now I’m so sure you talked to Tikki!” she replied irritably.

“Really? Did you ask her about how to turn a prince into a frog?”

“You don’t want to know how this conversation looked like.” she answered back, recalling the moment she had shaken herself in disgust. Yet… Kissing Adrien didn’t seem so disgusting for her anymore…

“After what you’ve just said I can’t wait to know all the details. Did you really ask your manager about kissing?”

“One more word, Adrien, and I promise I’ll break our agreement!” Marinette warned. “Is he always like that?” she asked Nino who only chuckled in reply.

“Actually, he’s never been like this before.” he said after a moment, still focused on the road. “I think you awoke a beast in him.”

“You think it’s reversible?” Marinette frowned.

“Don’t get it so seriously!” Nino advised. “It’s only fake dating, isn’t it?”

Marinette became speechless for a moment. She couldn’t believe she let herself involve into that conversation so deeply that she forgot about this whole mystification. No wonder that Adrien had fun teasing her! She called herself to order and decided not to let him provoke her again. If he could turn on a mode of flirting, she could do the same. ‘It’s only fake dating’ – Nino said. And he was so right!

“OK then…” she began in a conciliatory manner. “If you’re going to act as a playboy, I have to join the party, Kitty-Cat.”

“I’m a cat now?” Adrien smiled.

“Do you prefer being a cat or a frog?”

“Do I have to be an animal?”

“Maybe a teddy-bear…”

“Again, an animal, or even worse: a toy…”

“Nino said I awoke a beast, so I’m trying to figure out what kind of animal you could be.”

“Not every animal is a beast.” he noted.

“And vice versa.” she answered back.

“So, I suggest a cat. They are endearing, soft. They can purr and cheer you up…”

“They walk their own ways.” Nino added. “They can leave the house and come back after a week. It’s not you, Adrien.”

Marinette giggled.

“Cats have their own opinion and they are rather individualists.” she completed the description. “Are you someone like that?”

Nino snorted meaningfully, and she knew instantly what that meant. This time she didn’t laugh, especially when she saw pain on Adrien’s face after his friend’s reaction.

“Well… It’s been just awoken. Who knows what I’ll turn out to be?” he murmured.

She smiled at him and softly touched his hand.

“OK then. You’ll be my Kitty…”

And he smiled back.

---

@marinettemarch

Day 6 “Double life”

---

Fake Dating p.9 <- Previous part | Next part -> Fake Dating p.11

Start reading from the beginning

#marinettemarch 2020 #marinettelove 2020 #miraculous ladybug #Marinette Dupain-Cheng #Fake Dating #Adrien Agreste #Nino Lahiffe #fanfiction #adrienette #adrinette

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ravens-rambling · 5 years ago

Text

True Loves Kiss

A/N: This one is also a bit of a stretch but ehhhh. It’s suppose to be ‘Dragon Witch’ prompt XD

@sanderssidescelebrations

WC: 1,373

ships: Romantic Logince

warnings: Cursing, Mentions of homophobia, Haunted Toys, uuuhh I think that’s it

Tag List: @punsterterry @stormcrawler75@frostedlover@mycatshuman @mutechild@panicattheeverywhere15@overlord-winter @analogical-mess@saddestlittlebabe

Roman didn’t mean to get cursed. Guess it wasn't a smart move to piss off a witch… Who would’ve thunk it?

For centuries now he’s been trapped inside this knights toy, unable to talk or do much of anything. Well, at first.

His first owner was a young boy who stumbled across him when he was exploring the neighborhood. And he picked him up and brought him home. For years he played with him until he got bored in his later years then kept him in an attic. Until he gave him to his son.

Now, the spell was that only true loves kiss could break the spell. The reason why she did this? Oh, she was jealous cause he found him with another guy and apparently didn’t like that. And that’s how he found out that she is a witch. A dragon witch to be precise, or at least that’s what she called herself.

However, as the years went by her spell slowly weakened. Now he’s able to move at small times of the day. It was gradual movements at first, and now he's able to move his hand and foot. Even blink and open his mouth.

And of course, nobody liked a toy being able to move by itself.

At first, nobody really noticed. But as more time passed by he guessed people grew as well. They developed this thing called…cameras? He wasn’t sure he heard that right, he thinks he did though. And apparently they spied on him while he was moving around. How does he know this? Cause the next day he gets tossed out to the next owner. Now he can’t keep an owner for months without being sold to another owner.

And as time passed by his hopes of ever finding his true love got dimmer and dimmer. His hopes of ever getting out of this prison get lower with each passing day. And by now he doesn’t think he’ll ever be free. This will probably be his life until somebody burns him. Or dismantle him…

That was until one owner. One fateful day.

After being auctioned off in a huge room with lots of people he was going home with his new owner. He was a businessman by the looks of it. Wore a black suit with a dark blue tie. Had black square glasses and blue eyes… Yep, he means business for sure.

He wants to blink at him but for some reason, he couldn’t in this glass case. It restricted every movement he could make… So he had to sit there and watch him while he drove to his new home.

And he soon came to know that he really means business. As in the witch kind of business.

Apparently this Logan Berry is from a family line of witches. Which he found interesting. And he had bought him cause he had a hunch that there was something wrong. And a good thing for that too.

When he unhooked the box Roman instantly could move again and he blinked at him while he was being held. But Logan didn't scream like all the previous owners before him did. Instead, he simply stared and hummed in thought.

“You’ve had a spell placed on you, haven't you? Feels like a powerful one… Whatever witch did this was extremely powerful. And must’ve been angry at you… Whatever you did. Well, no matter, I’ll save you. Don’t you worry.”

And he was telling the truth. For months he experimented and failed in bringing him back. However, he did weaken the spell enough so as he could start talking. And he told Logan what happened and how to break it.

“True love? Oh… Hm… Interesting… That must be some dark magic cause I've never heard that. I’ve read on voodoo and I thought that's what this was. But if it’s to deal with true love then that's not the case…”

“I don’t know…anything about magic…or spells… Guess I angered the wrong…witch, didn’t I?” He had to talk slowly since whatever Logan did didn’t work completely. If he talked too fast his mouth will freeze up.

“That you did. I wonder how this ‘true love’ of yours is supposed to break the spell?”

Roman gasped, his eyes lighting up, “Like Princess And The Frog maybe?! I liked that movie and maybe it’s like that and-” He was cut off by his mouth freezing up again, his voice dying out.

“I told you not to talk fast.” Logan sighed and mumbled a spell that unfroze him. “I don’t know if that’ll work? It seems too straightforward…”

“Logan.” Roman looked up at the witch determinedly. “Kiss me.”

“What?! Why would I do that?”

“It worked in the movie! It’ll work here, right? And maybe you’re my true love! I haven’t had anybody so determined to change me back and-” The spell wore off again.

With bright red cheeks, Logan sighed and cast the spell again. Before Roman could say anything he rubbed his eyes. “Roman, that was a fictional movie. And it's highly illogical that it would even work. It has to be some counterspell to fix it or-”

“Please, Logan? Can we try?”

Logan looked down to see the toy solder giving him the biggest puppy eyes he’s ever seen. And that’s impressive, considering he’s a toy and everything. Logan’s cheeks grew redder and he sighed.

“Alright. Fine. One kiss.”

“Yay!! Thank you, Logan!” Roman beamed and danced around on the table. But when Logan leaned down to pick him up he stood still so it’ll be easier.

“Mhm… Sure. Don’t speak of this to anyone, especially my son. Alright?”

“My lips are sealed, Mr. Berry!” Roman huffed and nodded, making a point to zipper his lips shut. Logan couldn’t help but chuckle a bit at that.

“Alright… 1… 2… 3.” He counted then leaned forward and kissed the lips of the toy. As soon as his lips touched the toys hard wooden one wind came out from the walls. It blew around them faster and faster. Electricity crackled around them, causing Logan's papers to blow around even more. And he felt the hairs on his arms raised.

Logan’s eyes widened and he looked in front of him to see the dolls features changing. It was growing in size and becoming more human-like. One by one his features come back, his eyes, his nose.

Until finally, they both landed on the floor once the wind came to a stop and the electricity dimmed down. And he could finally move his lips from the other.

The man before him was stunning. He was darker in the skin, mirroring the darker wood that the toy was seemingly was made from. But he also had freckles scattered across his cheeks and nose. His dark hair was wavy, flowing upwards in a stylish manner. And his eyes were of a milk chocolate brown color. His clothes were old fashioned if Logan had to guess off the bat it was from the 1700s.

They both stared at each other for several minutes, both of them coming to terms with what just happened.

Until Roman just broke that moment of silence. He jumped in the air and beamed, his eyes lighting up and he squealed. “I knew it would work! I just had to meet the right guy! Disney, you didn’t fail me! Thank you!” Then he hugged him.

And Logan felt his face grow even brighter. His heart skipped a beat for a moment, then he felt it speed up. He…didn’t think he was this hot in his real body… Holy shit…

“You okay, spec’s?” Roman asked, now pulling him away and beaming still.

Quickly he shook his head and readjusted his tie, clearing his throat a bit. “Yes, I am. I’m glad that the spell reversed. Now, I have work to attend to. I still have to figure out how exactly that worked and so i-”

“Oh, don’t give me that, Lo! It worked! Which means your my soulmate! We’re destined together! Don't you feel it? I’m so glad you're my new owner!” He kissed Logan again.

Yeah… Logan was never a believer in destiny or soulmates but maybe… Just this one time…

He is.

#logan sanders #logan #roman #roman sanders #sanders sides #sanders sides fanfic #sanders sides fic #sanders sides au #logince #romantic logince #my fics #sanders sides human au #sanders sides witch au

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entering-mymind · 5 years ago

Text

Chapter 4 - Sanctuary

This is the fourth episode of the series where I have inserted my OC character (Mando’s daughter) into the Disneyplus television show. With her addition I believe this helps the viewers understand the choices Mando makes in the series. Would love to hear feedback! I do not own these characters and the story and dialogue goes to the respected credit of the screenwriters and creators of the show.

The day was productive for the little village, the people of Sorgan were busy harvesting their krill as a small girl played in the distance, chasing a frog like creature. Her mother watched while fulfilling her harvesting duties when something disrupted the birds in the nearby forest. To the villagers they knew what this meant.

“Go, go, go! They’re back!” several villagers exclaimed while helping their fellow man escape.

Panic erupted as the little girl screamed for her mother to save her, without hesitation, the mother ran towards the danger to rescue her flesh and blood.

Blaster fire shot high from the trees when the Klatooinians emerged from the forest ready to purge.

Knowing what would happen if she didn’t get her and her child to safety, she thought on her feet and plummeted into the water with her little girl. Taking a weaving basket, she placed it over them hiding their presence. She tried to keep her scared child quiet with the soft shushing of her voice.

The Klatooinians ran sacked the village depleting the good people of their entire stock. The villagers were powerless to do anything, they weren’t fighters, warriors of any kind, they had to accept this constant ordeal, unless they found someone willing to fight.

* * *

The Razor Crest flew through the galaxy unknowing of its destination, Mando continued flying while his daughter looked through the navigational system to find a suitable hide out.

“Now I’m not trying to be that person,” young Mando air quoted, “but when did you start allowing anything on your console? I mean I can’t even put my feet up and you’re allowing the kid to stand on it, but mostly he can press buttons. My hand use to get slapped for that,” she pointed out as the child pushed its second button.

“Stop touching things,” Mando said to the child but it snidely pressed its third button rattling the Razor Crest. Immediately Mando fixed the issue and placed the child on his lap.

“Oh, and now it gets to ride shot gun, Mmmm,” she made a noise Mando was familiar with.

“You know you can stick out your tongue without my knowledge.”

“That’s the reason for the noise so you know I’m sticking it out at you, Mmmm.”

Mando just shook his head reminding himself that a teenager was in his presence, “Did you find any place suitable,” he changed the subject.

“Yeah, one that’s coming into our scopes, its called Sorgan. It has no starport, industrial centers, or population density, a real backwater skughole if you ask me,” she said in honesty.

“Meaning it’s perfect for us,” Mando turned to his daughter, “Ready to lay low and stretch your legs for a couple of months.”

“Yeah, it’ll be nice.”

“It will because nobody’s gonna find us here.”

* * *

Mando set the Razor Crest down in a dense forest, far from any village or prying eyes. He shut down the ship and informed his daughter of his plan, “I’m gonna go out there and look around,” he handed her the child to watch, “It shouldn’t take long,” Mando made his way to exit while she rose in annoyance.

“Hey wait a minute. Do you not remember the last time we were split apart? A whole battle erupted. Nah-uh, not again,” she tried reasoning with him.

“Listen I’m just trying to find us some lodging, I’ll be back for the both of you, okay,” Mando left the cockpit and headed to the lower deck. He pressed for the hatch to release when the platform lowered revealing his daughter standing next to him while holding the child. He sighed in annoyance but knew better after all they had been through,” Oh, what the Hell? Come on,” he ordered as they made their way into the forest.

The trek wasn’t long, they came upon a quiet little tavern filled with locals, casually they found a table for three when a waitress approached them.

“Welcome travelers. Can I interest you in anything?”

“Bone broth, for the little one,” Mando ordered as the waitress turned to his daughter.”

“I’ll have a cup of Moogan tea, please.”

“And for you?” the waitress asked Mando.

“Nothing.”

“Very well,” the waitress was about to leave when Mando stopped her.

“That one over there. When did she arrive?” Mando nodded his head towards a brawny woman sitting across the way.

Really trying to think, the waitress guessed, “I’ve seen her here for the last week or so.”

“What’s her business here?” Mando hoped to get some intel.

“Business?” the waitress questioned with a chuckle, “Oh well, there’s not much business in Sorgan, so I can’t say. She doesn’t strike me as a log runner.”

Mando knowing the game flipped her a credit but this took the waitress by surprise.

“Well thank you, sir,” the waitress clearly wasn’t understanding Mando’s intentions in order to get the intel he was fishing for, “I will get that broth and tea to you as soon as possible, and I will throw in a flagon of spotchka just for good measure. Now don’t get any ideas,” the waitress turned playfully to young Mando implying she couldn’t have any due to the drink being infused with alcohol, “I will be right back with that,” but once the waitress left the brawny woman had vanished.

Immediately Mando rose in search for her as young Mando pondered where her father was headed, “Where are you going?”

“Stay here,” he commanded.

“But,” she tried to get her own information when Mando was already outside thermal tracking the woman’s whereabouts.

The tracks lead around the domed structure, still radiating heat, then abruptly the trail went cold, it was as if she had disappeared or found refuge above. Mando peered up noticing the woman hanging from a rafter just waiting to strike.

With precise aim she kicked Mando backwards making him strike the opposite building. The woman pinned him and began punching, the two became involved in a hand-to-hand combat when she slammed him to the ground with one swing.

Defenseless on his back, Mando ignited his flamethrower but she pinned his arm with her foot siting on top of him to create the final blow. Tucking his foot under hers, Mando flipped the scenario and alligator rolled himself on top but she was ready and threw him off with ease.

The two locked hands and rolled, not wanting to lose the other when they drew their blasters hoping to get the drop. Stagnant, they kept their weapons pointed at the other when they heard slurps of someone drinking. The two foes turned noticing the child gulping its soup with young Mando holding her tea and nodding in approval.

“Now that was impressive,” she said more to the woman then to her father,” Do you want some tea?” young Mando offered her beverage hoping this fierce woman would join them.

All four of them headed back in the tavern claiming a table, young Mando sort of sat in awe of this woman, who’s name was Cara Dune, wondering what her story was and how she was able to hold her own ground against her father.

“Saw most of my action mopping up after Endor,” Cara started, “Mostly ex-Imperial Warlords. They wanted it fast and quiet. They’d send us in on the drop ships. No support, just us. Then when the Imps were gone, the politics started. We were peacekeepers, protecting delegates, suppressing riots. Not what I signed up for,” Cara stopped and took a sip of the Moogan tea young Mando gave.

“Which battles were you in, did you witness the Death Stars destruction, how about…?” young Mando eagerly questioned but was silenced quickly with one look from her father. Cara smirked, amused by young Mando’s admiration of her.

“How’d you end up here?” Mando questioned diverting Cara from his daughter.

It seemed Cara wanted to answer young Mando but instead addressed Mando not wanting to open up old wounds.

“Let’s just call it an early retirement,” Cara vaguely stated while taking another sip, “Look I knew you were Guild. I figured you had a fob on me. That’s why I came at you so hard.”

“Yeah, that’s what I figured,” Mando replied.

“Well, this has been a real treat, but unless you wanna go another round, one of us is gonna have to move on, and I was here first,” Cara finished the beverage and walked off making her point.

“Whoa, she is hard core,” young Mando said in praise when Mando looked at her, “Not saying that you’re not either Papi,” she tried to rectify her statement so her father felt included.

“Come on, looks like this planet’s taken,” Mando clarified as the three would make their trek back to the ship.

* * *

Night approached, Mando wanted to make some adjustments to the landing gear of the Razor Crest before they left, fixing the alignment that had been a jarred from the Ravinock clinging onto it. He figured this would be a good time to teach his daughter some mechanical lessons, he pointed out certain parts, explaining what they did and how they worked.

Mando began adjusting specific gears showing her by example when he handed her the wrench so she could finish on her own. Suddenly the two heard a landspeeder approach with two nervous men on it. In apprehension one stayed behind the other afraid of what these strangers could do to them. Mustering up the courage one of the men approached in a non-threating manner.

“Excuse me, excuse me, sir,” Stoke said.

“There something I can help you with?” Mando replied without looking at them while still teaching his daughter.

“Uh, yeah, Raiders,” Caben chimed in.

“We have money,” Stoke quickly pointed out.

“So you think I’m some kinda mercenary?” Mando said.

“The both of you are Mandalorians, right?” Stoke questioned unsure now.

“Or at least wearing Mandalorian armor. That is Mandalorian armor, right?” Caben asked in wide eyes.

“It sure is,” young Mando replied poking her head out.

“See? I told him,” Caben began to follow Mando’s moves, “Sir, I’ve read a lot about your people…I mean tribe…If half of what I read is true,” when he was cut off by Stoke.

“We have money,” Stoke reminded.

“How much?” Mando asked trying to turn his daughter’s attention back on the ship.

“Everything we have, sir,” Caben said in full honesty, “Our whole harvest was stolen.”

“Krill, we’re krill farmers,” Stoke informed.

“We brew spotchka. Our whole village chipped in,” he held a small satchel when Mando signaled for his daughter to get on the ship.

“It’s not enough,” Mando declared.

“Are you sure? You don’t even know what the job is?” Caben said while him and Stoke followed the two Mandalorians.

“I know it’s not enough. Good luck,” Mando ended pushing his daughter in front of him.

“This is everything we have, we’ll give you more after the next harvest,” Stoke insisted but Mando was done listening to their pleas, he opened the hatch startling the two villagers backwards when Mando boarded as young Mando followed suit slowly.

“Come on let’s head back,” Caben said to Stoke.

“Took us the whole day to get here, now we have to ride back with no protection to the middle of nowhere,” Stoke said loudly hoping to win sympathy from the younger Mandalorian.

“Where do you live?” young Mando stopped and turned to them.

“On a farm,” Stoke informed since she had not be included in the conversation, “We’re farmers.”

“In the middle of nowhere?” she clarified.

“Yes,” Stoke said a bit confused on where she was heading with this.

“You have lodging?”

“Yeah, absolutely,” the two men could see they were getting through to her, now all she had to do was convince the other.

“Hold on,” she walked on board scouting for her father but he wasn’t far, “Papi, this is perfect, we couldn’t have asked for anything better.”

“They’re problems are not ours,” Mando began situating things for take off as she followed undoing what he secured.

“Of course but we could at least try and help, stay long enough until the heat on us cools. In that timeframe we could teach them simple techniques, easy defense mechanisms, how to protect themselves and their loved ones,” but she wasn’t getting through to him, she would have to play at his heart, “What if your parents knew how to defend themselves, what if mom knew your teachings?”

Mando stopped dead in his tracks, he couldn’t believe she would bring this up, just like the scenario with the child, helping these people seemed dear to her; for some reason he never could deny her.

The two villagers anticipated the outcome because it had been quite some time the two Mandalorians were in debate, the men waited patiently hoping it would swing in their favor. Suddenly they heard footsteps approach when the young Mandalorian asked for the two to help gather their things, appeased they eagerly helped when Mando appeared and requested for one thing.

“Give me those credits,” Mando outstretched his hand.

“Papi,” young Mando scrutinized believing they were only doing this for the lodging and seclusion when Mando reassured his daughter.

“It’s not for us.”

Everyone got on board the landspeeder when Mando directed them to a small camp deep in the forest.

Cara Dune sat with her back against a tree when Mando threw her the pouch of credits causing her to draw her blaster.

“Ready for round two?” Mando questioned as she looked at the pouch in curiosity.

The landspeeder slowly made its way back to the village as Cara and Mando discussed the situation.

“So, we’re basically running off a band of Raiders for lunch money?” Cara honestly stated.

“They’re quartering us in the middle of no where. Last I checked, that’s a pretty square deal for somebody in your position. Worst case scenario, you tune up your blaster. Best case, we’re a deterrent. I can’t imagine there’s anything living in these trees that an ex-shock trooper couldn’t handle,” Mando said in confidence but Cara stayed silent.

“You were a shock trooper? Whoa!” young Mando exclaimed putting another half smile on Cara because she found this young kids admiration for her sweet.

* * *

Night turned to day as the landspeeder seized movement awakening everyone with a thud.

“They’re here, come on,” a group of excited children approached eagerly awaiting to greet their guests.

“Looks like they’re happy to see us,” young Mando said enthused herself.

“Looks like,” Cara agreed when the children made silly faces at the child when it began to coo and giggle.

Other villagers approached to help unload their liberators belongings as Mando and his daughter were escorted to their lodge.

* * *

Tying off a blind so some natural light could filter in, Omera heard a noise and saw her two guests stand in the doorway awaiting passage.

“Please come in,” Omera welcomed.

Mando and his daughter entered setting their belongings and the child down.

“I hope this is comfortable for the both of you. Sorry that all we have is the barn,” she apologized that they didn’t have anything else more suitable.

“This will do fine,” Mando reassured.

“I stacked some blankets over here,” Omera pointed out.

“Thank you. That’s very kind,” young Mando said when she noticed a small girl sneak in.

Young Mando found the little girl’s actions amusing but it put her father an alert, instantly he swung around almost drawing his blaster when young Mando stepped in between and placed a hand on his arm preventing him to draw.

Disturbed, Omera walked over to showcase her child, “This is my daughter, Winta,” she embraced her in a hug, “We don’t get a lot of visitors around here. She’s not use to strangers.”

Mando continued to stand his ground when his daughter spoke, “As we’re not use to company.”

Omera smiled and then turned to her daughter to explain the situation the village was in, “These nice people are going to help protect us from the bad ones.”

“Thank you,” Winta’s small voice said when Mando and his daughter nodded back in unison.

“Come on Winta. Let’s give our guests some room,” Omera escorted themselves out while looking back at her cryptic guests.

* * *

The three of them stayed rooted in the barn, obtaining to certain duties while maintaining to their weapons.

“Knock, knock,” Omera didn’t want to startle them.

“Come in,” Mando said more at ease.

Omera walked in with a tray of food where her daughter followed close behind glaring at the two Mandalorians as if she wanted to ask a question. Winta looked up at her mother in apprehension when Omera gave her the confidence to ask.

“Can I feed him?” Winta pointed to the child who stood in his crib.

Mando stayed busy when his daughter took initiative, she was always good with kids.

“Sure you can,” she said as she watched Winta kneel in front of the child and hand feed him some small pellets.

With glee Winta giggled happily and then turned to young Mando, “Do you two want to play?” Winta stood eagerly awaiting young Mando’s answer.

Unsure of what she could and could not do, young Mando glared at her father who continued cleaning his pulse rifle. Everyone sat in silence as Mando finally acknowledged and nodded in approval towards his daughter.

A bit more eager than young Mando wanted to show, she stood and picked up the child in her arms when Winta took hold of young Mando’s hand and pulled her outside in excitement.

“Come on, we have tons of games to play!” Winta rambled in joy.

Believing the three would reside in the barn, Mando tried to stop them, “I don’t think,” he began to protest.

“They’ll be fine,” Omera stepped in between, assure the children were in good hands.

“I don’t…”

“They’ll be fine,” Omera could sense his high alertness for, whom she assumed were – in some form – his children.

Mando stepped back still a bit uneasy, what if their antics got out of hand, what if his daughter got to excited and experienced an episode? He couldn’t think like that, he had to trust her.

“I brought some food for the two of you. I noticed neither of you ate out there. I’ll leave it here for when I go so you and your…”Omera stopped unsure if she should say the other Mandalorian was his child, but he clarified it for her.

“Daughter, she is my daughter.”

“It shows.”

“Thank you for the food,” Mando turned and began cleaning other weapons when Omera hesitantly asked a question.

“Do you mind if I ask you something?”

“Go ahead,” he didn’t pay attention and kept focus on his cleaning.

“How long has it been since you or your daughter have taken off your helmets?”

“Yesterday, but separately,” he clarified.

“Separately, neither of you can see each others face, ever?”

“We are given a day, on a kin’s date of existence then the parent may gaze upon their flesh and blood,” Mando informed more than he planned.

“Wait, so you’re saying you haven’t seen your daughter’s face in a year?” Omera couldn’t believe what he was missing.

“Almost, we will celebrate in about a month but…” Mando stopped himself when Omera gently encouraged him to proceed, “This year she turns eighteen, the year a Mandalorian acquires the title and their independence. But it also comes with a law that even forbids reveal among family,” Mando tried to distract himself but Omera could see his pain.

“So you and her will only be able to see each other this last time? How cruel, so many tiny details you’ve missed throughout her years as she grew from a child and into a young woman. I don’t know what I would do if I missed a single detail about Winta,” Omera realized she was coming off harsh, “I apologize mothers and fathers raise they’re children differently. I presume her mother agrees with the Mandalorian beliefs?”

Mando stayed silent unsure of how to answer her question when he said only two words,” She passed.”

Omera paid her respects but then fell silent, she wasn’t sure on how to proceed the conversation, but she had to know more, “And when was the last time someone, apart from your daughter, saw your face?”

Mando realized he wouldn’t be rid of this woman unless he answered her questions. He didn’t need to get into specifics, so he walked to the window and pointed at the children who played with his daughter and the little one.

“I wasn’t much older than they are,” he informed.

“You haven’t shown your face to the outside world since you were a kid?” Omera said broken.

“No. I was happy that they took me in. My parents were killed and the Mandalorians took care of me and then they took care of us.”

“I’m sorry.”

“This is the way.”

Omera could sense this would be the extent of his sharing, “Let us know if there’s anything either of you need.”

“Thank you.”

Omera left with a sadden heart, sadden for the Mandalorian of his past, sadden for his daughter who would only see her father’s face one last time, sadden that the Mandalorian had missed out on key elements of his daughter’s life, but mostly sadden that they had to close themselves off from the world.

Omera approached the group of children and noticed the Mandalorian’s daughter appeared to be in high spirits, maybe because she didn’t know otherwise than from the life she was raised in. Omera knew it wasn’t her place and so tried to make her guests stay as pleasant as possible since they were helping defend their village.

* * *

A few hours had passed when young Mando walked in with the child who was fighting off sleep. Gently she placed him into his crib and tucked the blanket snuggly around so he wouldn’t get cold. She noticed her father still attending to things when he pointed in the corner showing a tray for her.

She examined her take and noticed a nice plethora of tasty food, “Yum, crusty bread, but you didn’t eat it?” she questioned even though she was happy he didn’t.

“I know it’s your favorite.”

“Thanks Papi,” she couldn’t help and smile under her helmet even though she knew her father couldn’t see, but he could always sense her happiness.

She took a seat in the corner in order to get off her feat but Mando believed otherwise. He wanted his daughter to be able to eat so he finished what he was doing and was about to leave when she stopped him.

“Wait Papi, I’m not hungry yet, still trying to catch my breath from playing with those little ones,” she said with a chuckle as they reminded her of the younglings at the covert.

She looked around really in taking the barn and the outside surroundings of the village, “This place reminds me of my childhood, when it was just you and I, before we were discovered by the creed,” she said a bit saddened as she recalled the past.

“Those were some happy times,” Mando chimed in also recalling a part of his life he would relive in a heartbeat.

“Do you remember when we had an infestation of womp rats? You set up traps everywhere but they kept out smarting you?” she reminisced in the story.

“Those damn things thought they had the best of me,” Mando declared.

“Yeah, they kept figuring out how to get the food off the trap without getting caught.”

“That was until they met their demise from my blaster.”

“Oh yeah, that’s when you taught me how to shoot, maybe not so suitable for a five year old but came in handy in the long run.”

The two stared at each other practically envisioning themselves in their home on Lah’mu, but knew they couldn’t go back.

“So I saw you talking with Omera,” she said in a playful tone.

“Why do you say it like that?” Mando wasn’t sure where his daughter was going with this.

“Oh, no particular reason, its just in a little over a month I’m turning eighteen, my day of independence will follow, so I just want to make sure you will be okay with me not always by your side.”

Mando stayed silent, he had been pondering over this for quite awhile and now was as any good of time to tell her, “I’m going to revoke your right for independence.”

“What?” she said more in shock than she expected herself to be in, “Why? You were the one who pushed me into this, and now you’re not going to let me receive the Mandalorian title or my independence from your care? I don’t understand.”

He walked over to her when she stood and backed away, “I’m sorry this comes as a shocker but I don’t think you’re ready,” Mando started, “Once you can obtain control on your own then I will discuss with the tribe…”

“Are you talking about my episodes? You don’t think I have control over them? I know they come unexpectedly but I am doing better, I’ll try harder,” she reassured when Mando put his hands on her shoulders trying to bring her at ease and not cause an episode for her.

“I’m not doing this to punish you, you know that right?” he asked.

“I’m not so sure.”

“I’m doing this for your protection, everything I do is for your protection.”

“Hey Mando, it’s getting dark are we going or not,” Cara shouted through the doorway.

“Hold on,” Mando yelled when he placed his hand on the side of his daughter’s helmet acting as if he was caressing her cheek, “We will discuss this further when I get back.”

“Why? There’s nothing left to discuss,” young Mando moved passed her father and knelt before the child’s crib, checking up on him.

She kept her back turned towards her father as Cara peered inside seeing the intensity between the two. Mando grabbed some gear, he stopped behind his daughter about to put his hand on top of her helmet when he felt it best she needed her space. He exited the barn as Cara followed wondering what had gone down between father and daughter.

* * *

Cara and Mando trekked through the forest in search of the Klatooinians camp, knowing it wasn’t her business Cara vaguely brought forth what she witnessed with his daughter.

“So is the kiddo alright? She seemed to be giving you the cold shoulder,” Cara wanted to make sure Mando’s head would be in the game and not somewhere else.

“She’ll be fine,” was all he wanted to reveal while he tracked the Klatooinians footprints through his heat sensor. Mando stopped and then pointed, “About fifteen or twenty of them came through here on foot,” he scanned the area realizing something else large had destroyed the trees, “And something big sheared off those branches.”

The two walked a bit further and came upon a huge footprint as Cara clarified, “AT-ST.”

“Imperial walker. What’s it doing here?” Mando questioned.

“I don’t know. But this is more than I signed up for,” as they saw the destruction of what an AT-ST could do.

* * *

“Bad news. You can’t live here anymore,” Mando addressed the village the following morning.

“What, why?” the villagers murmured in shock.

“Nice bedside manner,” Cara whispered.

“You think you can do better?”

“Can’t do much worse,” Cara walked forward to get their attention, “I know this is not the news you wanted to hear, but there are no other options.”

“You took the job,” Stoke reminded when young Mando walked out of the barn disappointed that they couldn’t help these people.

“That was before we knew about the AT-ST,” Cara said.

“What is that?” Stoke questioned.

“The armored walker with two enormous guns that you knew about and didn’t tell us,” Cara blamed.

The villagers pleaded confused on why these three wouldn’t help them when Omera stepped in.

“We have nowhere to go,” Omera glared at Mando and his daughter.

“Sure you do. This is a big planet,” Cara informed, “I mean, I’ve seen a lot smaller.”

“My grandparents seeded these ponds,” one villager stated.

“It took generations,” Stoke added.

“I understand. I do. But there are only three of us,” Cara wasn’t sure if she should include Mando’s daughter but she did.

“No there’s not. There’s at least twenty here,” Stoke clarified.

“I mean fighters, be realistic,” Cara exclaimed.

“We can learn,” Stoke said determined as the other villagers followed.

“I’ve seen that thing take out entire companies of soldiers in the matter of minutes,” Cara told in truth.

“We’re not leaving,” Omera said determined.

“You can not fight that thing,” Cara said.

Young Mando looked at her father hoping he remembered what she had suggested previously in order to persuade him to help with the two men’s pleas. Mando knew exactly what she was trying to convey when he spoke, “Unless we show them how.”

The villagers agreed eagerly that they would learn but Cara just glared back shaking her head in scrutiny.

* * *

“You got two problems here,” Mando started, “You got the bandits and you got the mech. We’ll handle the AT-ST, but you gotta protect us when they come out of the woods. And I don’t have to tell you how dangerous they are,” Mando reminded them, “Cara here was a veteran. She was a drop solider for the Rebellion, and she’s gonna lay out a plan for you, so listen carefully.”

“Now, there’s nothing on this planet that can damage the legs on this thing, so we’re gonna build a trap. We’re gonna need to dig real deep, right here,” Cara pointed to the largest krill pond, “So that when it steps in, it drops. The two of us will hit their camp. Provoke them. That’ll bring the fight out of the woods and down here to us,” Cara informed.

“I’m gonna need you to cut down trees and build barricades along these edges,” Mando commanded, “I need it high enough so that they can’t get over, and strong enough so that it can’t break through. Okay who knows how to shoot?” Mando ended when Omera was the only one who raised her hand.

The congregation broke up as Cara took a group while the others went with Mando. Young Mando helped her father distribute the guns as Cara showed the civilians how to craft wooden spears and use them.

Mando and his daughter hung some pots and pans so the villagers could use them as targets to hit with their blasters, but only Omera could repeatedly hit her mark.

Dusk was approaching as Mando and Cara would soon be leaving, he had to make sure his daughter was going to follow protocol and not disobey.

“I know my role in this, protect the children,” young Mando stated in honor.

“You know you are contributing to the battle by doing this, the children’s safety is worry off their minds,” Mando pointed to the villagers turned fighters, “So then they can perform their duty.”

“This is the way,” young Mando said.

“This is the way,” as he watched his daughter enter the hut with the child in one hand and her blaster already drawn in the other just in case the battle flowed inwards.

He hoped it wouldn’t come down to that when Omera approached the hut to put Winta in. She kissed her daughter intensely not knowing if she would see her again, but knew she would be in good hands with Mando’s daughter. Once mother and child departed Mando clarified the start to the events.

“The sun is about to set, and we’ll be leaving soon. When we return, we’re coming in hot,” Mando informed.

“We’ll be ready,” Omera promised as Cara approached signaling to move out.

* * *

Cara and Mando rushed their way through the forest finding two Klatooinians drinking around a fire, immediately they were seized and taken out. Cara and Mando ventured further into the camp, staying clear of another campfire where several more Klatooinians sat enjoying their stolen spotchka.

Mando and Cara entered a tent, blasters drawn, believing a fight would break out but the area was only occupied by several containers filled with the blue liquid. Mando wasted no time and stuck a detonator on a wall when Cara whistled for Mando to get ready as they would be receiving company.

Cara took lead punching the band of Klatooinians that entered. Mando followed suit taking out the ones Cara left for him to handle. With every passing moment the detonator - Mando activated - counted down to destruction, but soon Cara and Mando became overrun.

Blasters became drawn as Mando and Cara took refuge behind the liquid containers believing they had been pinned. Noticing the Klatooinians blaster fire penetrated the tent’s wall, Mando rapidly fired to create an escape.

“Come on, I’ll cover you,” Mando ordered of Cara as she bulldozed her way through the wall.

Quickly Mando followed when the detonator went off exploding intensely.

“I hope the plan worked,” Cara said panting as the two watched the tent burn in flames.

Suddenly their attention was brought towards where two red eyes glowed a few feet away and rose higher in the sky. Knowing this was the time to leave, Cara and Mando ran back towards the village dodging the AT-ST’s fire.

* * *

Everyone in the village waited in apprehension, afraid of what was about to unfold as they heard the sounds of gunfire approaching.

Like an instinct, young Mando raised her weapon ready to defend her territory when she heard the children whimper in fear. Quickly she turned and knelt in front of them hoping to bring them peace.

“Hey, its okay, everything will be fine,” she looked at them but stayed rooted on Winta who held tightly onto the child.

“How do you know,” Winta asked seeking an honest answer.

“Here,” young Mando pointed to her gut, “I know because I listen to it, and you wanna know what its telling me?” all the children looked at her in wonder, trying to understand how she was able to tap into a mysteries force, “We’re going to win, and no harm will come to you because I won’t let it,” the children smiled with relief when young Mando suddenly clutched at her core.

She caught herself from falling and instead stumbled upwards to her feet, she turned her back on the kids not wanting to display her fear as she tried to assesse the situation.

“No, no, no, please not now, not now,” she said in a shaky breath, believing she could calm herself down but it began.

It was as if her entire body ignited in a jolt, her core radiated with intense vibration, awakening every cell in her structure. She put both arms around her mid-section hoping to encase whatever wanted to escape from within. Every breath she took the sensation grew, coursing though her frame in a vengeance and overtaking its host. Suddenly she fell to her knees and hunched over in pain, one hand on the ground losing her blaster, while the other still held onto her mid-section. Winta could see young Mando’s distress and wanted to go to her but young Mando declined.

“I’m okay, really,” she waited for a tremor to pass when she spoke again, “Kids we’re going to play a game,” another tremor rammed through her making her speak in agony, “The game is ‘Mother Says,’ I’ll be the mother and I say loop that harness around your bodies tightly and quickly,” she demanded more forcefully than she cared too.

The children complied when young Mando noticed one end of the harness was attached to a concrete structure while the other end needed to be secured. In defeat she couldn’t move to secure it herself, she stared at the harness vigorously knowing she had to achieve this task another way.

She outstretched her hand and created the motion within her mind, she envisioned tying off the other end as the event she foresaw began to unfold in reality. The children were bound, now she had to keep them safe from herself.

“Mother says, no matter what you hear, all of you stay put, do not untie yourself, promise me,” young Mando shouted.

The children agreed when young Mando mustered up all of her strength and rose to her feet in order to run as far away as she could.

* * *

Mando and Cara emerged from the forest, running and then taking position with the rest of the villagers behind the barricades.

“This is it,” Cara shouted, “Once that thing steps into the pond, it’s going down.”

Everyone stayed frozen, waiting for their commanding officer to give them their orders, “Weapons ready,” Cara shouted as everyone drew their blasters high.

The AT-ST came into view, making its way towards their trap.

“Just a few more steps,” Mando informed.

The AT-ST was about to take its last step when the driver noticed its watery ruse.

“It stopped,” Cara said in defeat.

Everyone waited, not knowing what to do when the AT-ST flooded the village in light.

“Get down. Get down,” Mando commanded as the AT-ST scanned the perimeter opening fire when it had targets in its sights.

“Stoke stay there,” Omera shouted as their troop began to scatter from fear.

“Hold your positions,” Cara demanded.

The AT-ST positioned itself for no further movement when the Klatooinians began their attack.

“Open fire,” Cara commanded when the villagers followed orders and started shooting.

Enemy fire returned with most coming from the AT-ST.

“We gotta get that thing to step forward,” Mando instructed.

“I’m thinking,” Cara replied in a bit of panic when she looked to the ground for answers, suddenly she glared up in confusion as she witnessed rocks floating in the air, “What the Hell,” Cara said in bewilderment when she noticed other objects around the village begin to float freely as the ground quaked beneath them wildly.

Suddenly a loud blood-curling scream radiated from within the village, sending chills down Mando and Omer’s spine, because it came from the children’s hut.

* * *

Young Mando staggered through the village but she didn’t get far, the intensity overran her mobility, sending her to all fours again. She collapsed to the ground frightened of what was going to happen next. She had to prevent the impact from reaching the children’s hut, because they would be the closest to the blast.

Young Mando positioned her hand towards the hut concentrating to hopefully move the impact away when she witnessed a clan of Klatooinians sneak attack from the side. Realizing her situation, she reached for her blaster but realized she dropped it in the hut. Thinking quickly and using her episode to her advantage, young Mando placed her hand firmly on the ground sending the vibration, which wanted to emerge from her, into the dirt.

The terrain began to quake and crack as if an earthquake had manifested. Fractures made their way from young Mando’s hand towards the clan of Klatooinians, without warning the soil beneath their feet gave way, replicating exactly what had happened with the Mudhorn.

A few Klatooinians jumped to safety while others hung on for dear life, the earthquake continued uprooting surrounding trees as one fell directly onto the trapped assailants.

With a hint of relief, young Mando returned her focus onto herself in order to gain control, but this was exactly what her father was referring to. She had to prove him wrong but the remaining Klatooinians perused in a vengeance.

They ran in rage, weapons drawn high ready to end her life when she decided to end theirs first. She waved her hand in an upward motion, the remaining Klatooinians unwillingly mimicked her gesture and rose into the air helpless. They wiggled in fear unknowing the phenomenon that was happening to them. With a snap of her wrist the Klatooinians necks twisted, meeting their demise, she then swung her arm sideways sending the lifeless bodies into the forest.

Disappointed she had to resume to violence she couldn’t hold on any more, in defeat young Mando let out a horrific scream hoping this would reach her father so he could prepare the others for impact.

* * *

That scream, it was her scream, the scream before she released havoc, Mando had to warn everyone and prep them for a collision, “Tether yourself to something rooted, now!” he commanded of Cara as she could hear the panic in his voice.

Mando ran along the perimeter instructing everyone to fall back and tie themselves immediately to something that could not be uprooted. Confused on this change of command, Cara followed suit and demanded everyone to do as they were told. Everyone complied when Mando noticed Omera was missing.

“She went to the children,” Stoke informed, exactly where ground zero would occur.

Mando had to save the children and Omera, he raced through the village when he found Omera, quickly he grabbed her but she wiggled herself free declaring she had to get to Winta. Mando lassoed Omera but the two fought, he finally gained control of the situation when he saw his daughter in the distance, away from the hut.

He watched as if the event was happening in slow motion, she rose to her knees unwillingly, arms outstretched, when an unseen force erupted from her body. One hand pointed towards the children’s hut, desperately hoping to deflect the blast, while the other hand tried to push the excess force in the location of the battle, but the reminisce of the invisible force she couldn’t control still disbursed in all directions.

Mando held onto Omera and quickly released his grappling hook by wrapping it securely around a stationary cinderblock. Instantly Mando and Omera were flung backwards as he touted the wire begging for it not to break from the pressure. Just as fast as it happened Mando and Omera fell to the ground in a thud.

The two rose hearing in the distance the sound of the AT-ST crash, immediately Cara screamed for everyone to untie themselves and attack. The villagers complied and ran with force towards the defenseless machine and injured Klatooinians, the creatures attempted to hold their ground but was quickly overrun.

Cara took charge, ignited a detonator and threw it in the broken AT-ST’s window. She screamed for everyone to take cover when the machine exploded, a wave of relief washed over the villagers seeing their victory play out before them. Everyone cheered in glee when Omera smiled in relief and went to her child as Mando went to his.

Young Mando laid sprawled on the ground, unconscious, in fear Mando cradled her in his arms placing a hand on her chest. In relief he felt her breathing as he drew her closer, not wanting anyone to pry, Mando picked up his daughter and carried her to the barn and placed her on the cot. He put his hand on the side of her helmet when she slowly came to.

“Is anyone…”she started when he silenced her.

“Everyone’s fine, rest.”

All she could do was breathe heavy and close her tired eyes believing her father. Seeing her at peace Mando went to check on the child and noticed the hut had not been touched, the blast had somehow been deflected from its path. Winta held onto the child happily and from seeing her mother.

“Her gut was right,” Winta exclaimed.

“Whose gut?” Omera asked.

“The young Mandalorians, her gut told her we would win,” Winta said happily as the other children cheered in excitement.

* * *

Just beyond Omera’s home, the child, young Mando, and the children played joyfully, acting out new games while incorporating others.

Cara, Mando, and Omera watched from the porch as Omera gave Cara a drink. Omera turned to Mando and offered him one as she would place it in the house, but he politely declined.

“They’re happy here,” Omera pointed out from the imaginary smiles she could read from his children.

“They are,” he openly said.

“They fit right in,” she added and walked off towards the children.

Mando peered, almost pondering a different scenario he wished could play out when Cara interrupted his thoughts.

“So what happens if either of you take that thing off? They come after and kill you both?” she seriously asked.

“No. You just can’t put it back on again,” he informed.

“That’s it,” Cara almost wanted to chuckle but restrained herself not wanting to offend his religion, “So you can slip off the helmet, settle down with that beautiful young widow and raise your kids sitting here, sipping spotchka?” Cara glared at him as if he was crazy to pass up this opportunity when he spoke.

“I tried it once,” he paused, “It didn’t work out.”

Cara gazed at him wondering what he meant, but his focus was drawn on his daughter. She could see his intensity on how protective he was over her when he changed the subject.

“You know we raised some hell here a few weeks back.”

“We sure did and yet you still won’t tell me where that blast came from. Did you plant a phantom detonator somewhere without my knowledge? I mean if I knew you had one of those we could have lead with that,” Cara pried but Mando wouldn’t revel anything.

“We have to take into consideration that it’s to much action for a back water town like this. Word travels fast. We might wanna cycle the charts and move on,” he suggested.

“I would not want to be the one who has to tell them,” Cara pointed her cup in his children’s direction.

“I’m leaving him here, traveling with me, that’s no life for a…” when he stopped himself realizing he put his daughter through it, “I did my job, he’s safe. Better chance at a life,” Mando clarified.

“It’s going to break his little heart along with your daughter’s.”

“They’ll get over it. We all do,” he ended.

* * *

The villagers returned to their daily duties, harvesting krill, maintaining to their crops when Mando approached Omera.

“Excuse me. Can I have a word?” he addressed her.

“Of course,” the two walked a distance away when Mando began casual conversation.

“It’s very nice here.”

“Yes,” Omera shook her head happily.

“I think its clear he’s…he’s happy here,” Mando implied.

“Yes, and so is your daughter, but what about you?”

“Me?”

“Are you happy here?” Omera was trying to reach him, “We want you to stay, we want your daughter to stay. The community’s grateful. The both of you can pack your armor away, but if there is any trouble you can always take it out. You and your children could have a good life, they could be actual children for a while, you could see your daughter’s face daily instead of for one last time. Wouldn’t that be nice?”

Mando glared in the distance, he saw his daughter teaching the intently in tuned children how to draw.

“It would,” Mando’s voice broke when Omera placed her hands on the sides of his helmet ready to take it off for him. He seized her motion knowing this couldn’t be their future, “We don’t belong here,” Mando informed, “But he does.”

“I understand,” Omera said saddened, “I will look after him as one of my own,” she promised when the sound of a blaster erupted from the forest.

“Go get the kids,” Mando rushed off with his weapon drawn as young Mando stayed behind mimicking her father.

* * *

On the outskirts of the forest Cara stood there with a dead bounty hunter at her feet. Beneath the body Mando heard a faint beeping, turning the deceased over and revealing a tracking fob.

“Who’s he tracking?” Cara asked.

“The kid,” Mando replied.

“They know he’s here.”

“Yes.”

“Then they’ll keep coming.”

“Yes,” as Mando crushed the fob under his boot.

* * *

Cara helped load the landspeeder with Mando and his daughter’s gear when she asked a simple question, “Are you sure you don’t want an escort?”

“I appreciate the offer, but we’re gonna by pass the town and head right to the Razor Crest,” Mando informed.

“Well then,” she held out her hand,” Until our paths cross.”

Mando took it, “Until our paths cross.”

Holding back her tears, Winta ran and hugged young Mando’s waist, “I’m going to miss you both so much,” Winta reached for the child and embraced him also.

“Me too,” young Mando replied holding her composure.

Mando and Omera glared at one another one last time when she thanked him, truly thanked him for all he and his daughter did for the village.

Winta gave one last hug to the child and young Mando before she returned to her mother in tears. Mando gathered the last of their things and helped his daughter into the landspeeder. Mando then took a seat at the edge signaling for the droid to move out. The village waved goodbye at their three new friends, wishing them safe travels, but sadden they couldn’t stay and be apart of their daily lives.

#starwars #the mandalorian #mando #din djarin #mandalorians #Pedro Pascal #jon favreau #fanfic #oc character #cara dune #gina carano #carl weathers #greef karga #the child #baby yoda #star wars fanfiction

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littlewritingrabbit · 5 years ago

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@mywaywardcompass here’s a ridiculous little ficlet for you before your exams today. Best of luck, and I bet you’ll do great!

Hot Peppers

The hot peppers were a bad idea. Worse than that, thought John, dropping another handful of snow into his glass and taking another gulp, they were a terrible idea. Even through the distraction of all this stinging in his mouth, however, he still had the good sense to know that he could blame nobody but himself.

It had started that morning, when Francis Kinloch had come over for tea before their afternoon classes. John had left the door unlocked in anticipation of the visit, and so came downstairs to find that Francis had flung himself onto the divan most despairingly, and was now addressing the ceiling with a dejected look.

“Whatever is the matter?” asked John, collecting a book from the side table and fitting it into this satchel.

“My nose is all stuffy,” said Francis. John wasn’t sure whether the phrasing of the nasally manner in which he said it was less dignified, but he opted for a more sympathetic response.

“Gracious,” he said, “Can I get you some tea?”

“Have you any whisky?” Francis inquired.

“Is it really that bad?” John asked.

“Well, no,” Francis admitted, “I was just wondering if you might have any.”

“No,” said John, “I haven’t.”

“It’s a travesty,” said Francis, likely back on the subject of his nose, rather than the whisky, but it was anyone’s guess really. “I sound like a fool. And worse yet, if it worsens and I get a cold, I’ll be all red-nosed and it’ll spoil m complexion.”

“I’m sorry to hear it my dear,” said John. He thought the title appropriately consoling, and while he hadn’t entirely wrapped his mind around what he and Francis were to each other now that they were… well… closer of a pair than they ought to be, he felt certain that there was nothing amiss in a bracing word like ‘dear’ when a friend’s spirits were brought so low by a cold. He returned to the kitchen for two cups of tea and set down his own on the side table before placing Francis’ on top of a copy of Avicenna’s Canon of Medicine in lieu of a coaster. “Hold on a moment,” John muttered, raising the teacup again just as Francis was about to pick it up.

“Hey,” said Francis.

“No, hold on,” said John, taking the Canon out from underneath the teacup. “I’ve an idea that I’ve been wanting to try out for some time.”

“Oh, do tell,” said Francis, though his attention was focused more on the tea, which he had managed to pry from John’s distracted fingers.

“Do you recall that lecture we snuck into at the beginning of term?” John asked.

“The one with the dissected frog?” Francis pulled John onto the divan beside him so he could kick his legs up over John’s lap and rest his teacup on his knees.

John shook his head, at least feeling warm, if also a little squished. “No, the one about Galenic theory.”

Francis took a sip of tea, found it too warm, and made a face. “Sort of?”

“Well if you recall, Galen stated that everyone has their own unique balance of humours, or complexion, if you wish to sound technical, and if that balance is disrupted, that is when they get sick.” Francis seemed a bit preoccupied by blowing on the tea to cool it down, but John forged onwards with his lesson nonetheless. “Your humoral complexion, and I mean this in the nicest way possible, tends towards the choleric, meaning hot and dry, so my guess would be that the environment around you is too cold and wet, and thus your humours are out of balance.” Francis took another sip, made another face, and kept drinking. “So in order to get back into a balanced state, you ought to have hot and dry influences around you.”

“Where are you going with this?” Francis asked.

John grinned. “Hot peppers.”

“Hot peppers?”

“Precisely! They come in from the colonies sometimes, I’ve seen them in the market,” John explained, “And they’re a little expensive, but I would describe this as a worthy cause. I can’t abide by them myself, you know how terrible I am at eating spicy foods, but I should think they would be good for you.”

Francis raised an eyebrow. “And you’re sure that will sort out my insides and make my nose stop running?”

“Well, I’m not certain about all your insides,” John admitted, ever aware of his continuing education as a law student, not a physician, “But it should be good for your spleen if I remember correctly.”

“Aright,” said Francis, “Then I believe it is worth being your amateur experiment if I am spared a cold!”

That afternoon they reconvened in the kitchen, where the soup John was making had already caused the windows to steam and the air to become fragrant. Not exactly an expert cook, John had added a few vegetables and beans to the broth along with the peppers, and was hoping for the best.

He wafted the steam towards his nose as he assumed a proper physician would do. It smelled good, at least. “I think it’s ready,” he said, ladling some into a bowl and passing it to Francis, who had been watching John’s uncertain cooking progress with an air of amusement and a hip leaning against the table.

“To health!” said Francis.

“To health and to Galen,” said John, “May his wisdom fix your nose, and many noses hereafter!”

Francis drank a large spoonful. For a brief second, something akin to pain flashed across his features, but his expression became pleasant once again so quickly that John figured he must have imagined it.

“Is it good?” asked John.

“Absolutely,” said Francis, removing his hip from the table and stepping towards John. “By Providence! How lucky I am to have a friend who cares so much for me as to make such a remedy for me!”

“Well,” said John, a smile stealing over his face, “It was the least I could-”

“You are so kind, my Laurens,” said Francis, smiling in a manner that bordered on rakish, not that John minded at all, “And so clever, and, dare I say, so handsome.”

“Why thank you-oh!” Francis closed the distance between them and pressed a kiss to John’s lips. One hand holding lightly at his chin, he kissed him with a passion that could only be described as-

“Ow! Hot!” John yelped, reeling backwards. The spice still sticking to Francis’s mouth now proved quite painful to him, and it was at this moment that John realized what a good actor Francis must be to give no sign of it until he could exact his revenge by way of an uncomfortably peppery kiss. “Good lord!”

John filled a glass half-full with water from a pitcher, threw open the window, and dropped a handful of snow from the windowsill into the glass before taking a drink to try to drown the stinging in the coldest water possible. He became aware that Francis was laughing from the kitchen table.

“Are you alright John?” Francis called to the half of John that wasn’t sticking out of the window, “You seem a bit hot-headed in your haste there!”

“Oh spare me the puns,” John groaned, taking another drink of freezing water, “You’ve won already! I shall never make you the subject of a medical experiment again!”

#History and Writing #Time for a Ficlet #Francis Kinloch #John Laurens

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plumoh · 5 years ago

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[NatsuYuu] left behind

Word count: 1678

Summary: Natsume Reiko has to deal with the consequences of her grandfather's doing, namely letting youkais barge into her life.

Note: AO3 link. Day 3 - role reversal for @natsumeweek!

One-shot: left behind

“Natsume-sama! Please help us Natsume-sama!”

Two youkais coming from the mountains beyond Yatsuhara are running, making more noise than necessary to attract the attention of the person they've traveled to see. They abruptly stop and bow down, not wasting any time to voice their request.

“Our territory is being attacked by outsiders, please drive them away!”

There is a long silence, sizzling with confusion, then replaced by mild exhaustion. The sigh is heavier in this quiet space.

“Yeah, I'll see what I can do, but no promises. I have other things to do.”

A round calico cat snorts from his perch on a branch, drawn by the commotion that spiked his curiosity, as usual. The youkais lift their heads, an open expression of surprise on their faces that betray their disappointment.

“You...?”

Long pale hair flutters as a hand pushes it back behind an ear, and a slow grin forms on a curled mouth.

“I'm afraid I'm not as gentle as my grandfather.”

***

Natsume Reiko leafs through the Book of Friends with inexplicable fascination. Sometimes she'd trace the writings with her fingertips, summoning the image of the youkai who held the pencil or the brush to carefully inscribe their name in something that was beyond their expertise. She tries to imagine each one of them waiting to meet again the human they've given up their freedom to—a lot of them, she learned, don't repay kindness with kindness, and will seek more opportunities to abuse it.

“Surely he knew that youkais aren't friendly,” she complains one day after returning a name and nursing a headache from the incessant chatting of the nearby youkais who won't leave her alone.

“Believe me, I told him over and over he was wasting his time,” Madara huffs, licking cookie crumbs off his paws. “Takashi was a fool.”

Reiko isn't one for sentimentality, and has no experience in detecting the inflection of someone's voice depending on their emotions (she herself can't express them). She still somehow manages to hear unspoken words behind Madara's gruff remark, lodged in his throat and unable to come out because there is no point in releasing them.

Against her will, she laughs.

“I guess he was.”

***

“You mean you wanted to become his servant?”

Misuzu's eyes remain unchanged as does his mouth, like he's frozen in a perpetual grin that goes with his high status. His frogs are jumping around Reiko, croaking and being a general nuisance.

“I do not think that 'becoming his servant' was what Takashi aimed at when he asked,” he clarifies with a lilt of mirth. “I simply believed that it was easier to watch over him should he peruse the power he was granted.”

To be honest, Reiko is certain that her grandfather didn't care about the advantages that the Book provided him, and by the look of things, so did Misuzu. There is no way that youkais submit themselves to humans willingly—she can't imagine any of them hand out their name like it's a mere entrance ticket to friendship.

However, that seems to be the case for most of those youkais who smile and joke and reminisce about someone whose life might as well have been nonexistent in their almost eternity.

“He was alright for a man, I suppose,” Hinoe cackles, draping her arm around Reiko's shoulders and bringing her closer, much to the human's disgruntlement. “Fortunately he brought me a cute granddaughter!”

“You are all so weird,” Reiko groans, pushing Hinoe away. “This isn't what I thought I'd get myself involved into when I received the stupid book.”

“Then make your life shorter so I can get it.” Madara swipes at her ankle, and she follows with a harsh nudge with her foot that sends him rolling down.

“I still have some dignity, losing to a cat isn't an option.”

Madara goes on a rant about being magnificent and deserving much more than what he's currently given, so Reiko tunes him out as she sips her juice and eats the berries a youkai gave her as thanks for something that Natsume Takashi most likely did. Surrounded by these creatures she grew to view as a thorn in her side, sharing stories and discussing of what qualifies as foolish like they were her own circle of acquaintances, she can't envision what tomorrow will be made of.

***

She's always slept with a weapon of sort next to her pillow to protect herself. It started with a ridiculous toy sword she borrowed from the son of the family she was living with, then a bundle of sticks she collected on the way home, then a soccer ball hard enough to break a wall, and now she grew fond of the baseball bat she found lying next to a sleeping youkai. She never actively went after youkais since they came to her, but the one she followed of her own volition was forced to teach her what they knew about spells and incantations. It was the least they could do after their kind kept harassing her for stupid favors or claiming she would make a delicious meal.

She thought it would stop after meeting Madara, but it only became worse.

Natsume Takashi, her grandfather, were he still alive, would be hearing a piece of her mind for attempting to befriend every single living creature in this world.

Shunned by everyone around him and mocked for his inability to fit into society on top of seeing a world that was invisible to others—Reiko understands he might have left behind the humans altogether to seek comfort in people who wouldn't judge him. She can't wrap her head around his desire to forgive, though.

“Nobody treated him right,” she says to Madara, who feigns disinterest. “A lot of youkais didn't, too.”

Madara is probably just as bad as her at perusing the spectrum of emotions, if not worse; the face of a cat does limit his possibilities, but Reiko is certain that there is much he doesn't tell.

“You understand why he was so stubborn about meeting youkais, don't you?” he retorts with that knowing look she tends to avoid glancing at. “Well, I'm assuming you're smarter than he was.”

You're awfully gentle even if you're insulting him, Reiko wants to say, but just like how she can't admit she still fears she'll wake up from this reality and go back to a life of misery, she can't point out the obvious aching in her friend's heart.

Youkais who come to her thinking she will solve all their problems like her grandfather did often end up bruised and nursing a wounded pride, after they lose to her little games. She much prefers seeing what they are made of before deciding if they are worth her time, and if they deserve having their names back.

(Whether Takashi knew the nature of the contracts remains a mystery, but either way she can't shake off the feeling of loneliness whenever she so much as lays eyes on the Book of Friends.)

“I really don't understand his way of thinking,” she mutters.

Madara lets out an ugly laugh. “Nobody did.”

***

She chases after a youkai to retrieve a trinket they stole from a weaker spirit, and when she does catch up to them she swings her bat and whacks them on the head. The effect is immediate and the thief collapses, whining and complaining about the great power of the holder of the Book of Friends, and Reiko simply chuckles.

“Yeah, we're pretty strong in my family.”

She doesn't ask permission to get back what she came looking for as she plucks it right from the youkai's hands, then turns around to leave. Madara seems to appear from thin air for the only purpose of mocking her.

“You sure put a lot of effort in this one, for someone who doesn't like being used.”

She waves a hand, having learned by now that rising to Madara's baits aren't really productive for either of them.

“I needed the exercise anyway.”

Reiko looks at the cloudy sky, feeling the first drops of rain fall on her nose. She catches movement on her left, and sees the youkai who asked for her help timidly extending a hand. Her lips automatically curl into a soft smile, as she gives the item back.

“Thank you, Natsume-sama,” the youkai bows. “I have one more favor to ask.”

“Your name is in the Book, right?”

There is something particularly strange in taking the name of such a fragile-looking youkai, who probably doesn't even interact much with other people. Takashi has collected names without discrimination, like he expected them all to accept their predicament or the friendship they were offered.

Reiko is different.

“I'll hurry up. I don't want to go home too late.”

Being drenched is a feeling she despises above all (bringing an umbrella wasn't always a possibility), but feeling the trained eyes of Touko-san looking for any signs of sickness never gets easier. Reiko didn't know that someone could be filled with so much love to give, especially for someone like her, who terrorized invisible monsters and drove away those who everyone pretended not to see.

She walks under the safety of a tree's leaves and pulls out the Book of Friends, closing her eyes. The pages flicker and turn, a single one standing out for her to cradle and bestow. She sees warmth, she sees mischievousness, she sees life; she sees everything through the eyes of someone who could have helped. She grasps what loneliness being washed away feels like.

“I'm giving your name back. Accept it.”

She might never understand what her grandfather wanted to do, by leaving his memory everywhere he went. Madara might never forget the gaping hole he can't fill with food, however hard he tries. The youkais might never figure out the amiable behavior a human showed them.

Reiko opens her eyes to the universe of kindness Natsume Takashi has left her, for her to find her way and discover the hidden side of a world she's always hated.

#natsumeweek #natsuyuu #natsume yuujinchou #natsume reiko #madara #nyanko sensei #natsume takashi #misuzu #hinoe #my fanfic

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unfortunate-stranger-losers · 5 years ago

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Six Baudelaires AU, Part Two {AO3} {Masterlist} {Part One}

Chapter Six → in which the Baudelaires have Gym Class

“This is Coach Genghis.” Nero said. “He’s our new gym teacher, and he says he has a special program for orphans.”

“Yes,” said Count Olaf, turning to smile wickedly at the Baudelaires. He was faking some kind of southern accent. “My Special Orphans Running Exercises- or SORE. You see, orphans require special attention to exercise their Mother-and-Father-less legs.”

“That doesn’t sound right.” Isadora said, looking at Lilac in confusion as the older girl pushed her back farther.

“That doesn’t sound right.” Nero mocked. “What do children like yourself know? Coach Genghis is a private instructor and life coach, he knows far more about exercise than you.”

“Is that so?” Violet asked, slowly stepping around Lilac’s arm. She had a very forced smile on her face. “You’re our… new gym teacher, Coach Genghis?”

“Violet?” Klaus hissed.

“That I am.” Coach Genghis said.

“It’s funny.” Violet said. “You almost looked like Count Olaf, but that’s impossible. We have the computer.”

“Of course we do.” Olaf looked a bit pleased, and Violet’s siblings suddenly realized what she was doing, just as the Quagmires realized exactly what was going on. Isadora grabbed onto Lilac’s arm, and Duncan grabbed Klaus’s and glared down Olaf.

“It’s kind of funny, to think you might be Count Olaf,” said Lilac, stepping closer with Violet. “You look nothing like him, now that we can see you.”

“Yes.” Klaus stepped forward. “Count Olaf has one long eyebrow, and your eyebrows are covered by a turban.”

“And he has a tattoo of an eye on his ankle, but you have gym shoes.” Nick said.

“Yes.” Olaf said, smiling a little. “As you can see, I show none of the traits of Count Olaf.”

“It’d be so funny,” Violet said, moving even closer, “If we removed your turban, just to see you had two eyebrows instead of one.”

“Ferragamo,” said Solitude, as Nick hesitantly stepped forwards. “Or if we removed your shoes, just to see you had no tattoo.”

“What my sister means-” Nick began.

“It doesn’t matter what she means.” Coach Genghis swiftly stepped away from the approaching children. “I cannot remove this turban for religious reasons, and I cannot remove my shoes without being considered rude. You don’t want smelly feet in the genius Vice Principal’s office.”

“Quite right!” said Vice Principal Nero. “Coach Genghis, why don’t you tell- wait. How many orphans did you need again?”

Coach Genghis paused, glancing around the group. “Six. There are six here, aren’t there?”

“No, there’s eight. The infant secretaries count.”

“Ah, I forgot about them.” Olaf narrowed his eyes. “Who are these two extra kids?”

Klaus once again stepped in front of Duncan, and Lilac retreated several steps to shield Isadora.

“Um…” Duncan glanced towards the Baudelaires, not entirely sure what they should do.

“We’re the other orphans.” Isadora said, quickly moving beside Lilac. “Isadora and Duncan Quagmire. Whatever you have for them, you can give it to us, too.”

“No!” Lilac whispered, as Violet gasped and stepped towards her.

“I only have room for six orphans in my program.” Coach Genghis said sharply, looking over the Quagmires. The second his eyes landed on Isadora, Lilac let out what sounded like a growl, and she once again pushed Isadora slightly behind her. “I’ll take the siblings. Should make things easier to remember. I don’t have room for two extra twins.”

“We’re not twins.” Duncan said sharply.

“Our brother Quigley-” Isadora began.

“Our brother Quigley died in a fire.” Nero imitated, rolling his eyes. “Find something more pleasant to talk about, will you?”

Olaf looked slightly interested, but he said, “Yes, like my Special Orphans Running Program. You children are to report to the field tonight for your first lesson.”

“Which does not excuse you from my mandatory violin recital.” Nero said. “You all will owe me quite a lot of candy.”

“Now,” said Coach Genghis, “If you don’t show up, you’ll fail the class, and if you fail too many classes, you’ll be expelled, won’t you?”

Lilac gave him a dark look, and said, “Of course. We never miss class.”

“Ever.” said Nick, unconvincingly.

“Now, scram, before you’ve overstayed your welcome and your glasses are taken away at meals.” Nero said. “I have to go back to practicing my violin for tonight’s recital, and Coach Genghis has offered to listen.”

“Yes.” Genghis said, looking ever-so-slightly displeased. “I will see you tonight, orphans.”

Lilac gave him a dark look, and then said, in her best fake-sweet voice, “Of course, Coach Genghis. We look forward to it.” She grabbed Violet and Isadora’s hands and dragged them off, and Nick quickly pushed Klaus and Duncan to follow her. Solitude gave Olaf a long glare, and Sunny looked very much like she’d like to flip him off.

As soon as they were in the hallway, they took off at a run, and didn’t stop until they made it back to the Orphans Shack. Lilac shut the door, and said, “Nick, you better be glad that bird’s not still here, or I would have killed you. On top of everything else-”

“He found us.” Klaus said, sinking to the floor and putting his head in his hands as Violet flicked the mobile on. “He found us.”

“We knew he probably would.” Lilac said, taking Sunny from Violet and sitting on a haybale. “It was only a matter of time.”

“That was Count Olaf?” Duncan asked.

“Oh, yeah.” Nick said. “In another shitty disguise.”

“Bad man!” Solitude said, crossing her arms and huffing as Babbitt jumped from her pocket to her shoulder.

“How can he get our fortune as a gym teacher?” Violet pulled her ribbon from her pocket, starting to tie her hair back to think better.

“There’s treachery lurking in most exercise programs.” Klaus said.

“I seriously doubt that man is qualified to be a gym teacher.” Isadora said, sitting inbetween Lilac and Violet.

“What the hell are we supposed to do?” Violet asked.

“We could run away.” Duncan suggested. “When Isadora and I come of age, we’ll inherit the Quagmire Sapphires, and be able to live on our own.”

“But that’s five years from now.” Lilac said. “And I won’t get our fortune for another three.”

“Maybe we could find a way to make money.” Duncan said. “We could build a printing press and make our own newspaper.”

“I would love to build a printing press.” Violet said wistfully.

“And I’d love to write for it.” Klaus said.

“I could do a poetry section.” Isadora said. “And I feel like Nick would wanna do the comics.”

“Hell yeah, I would.” Nick nodded.

“We can’t just sit here and daydream.” Lilac said softly, pushing a braid behind her ear. “Count Olaf is here, he’s infiltrated the school, and we need to find out what he’s planning so we can stop it. Nick, if you want to skip gym-”

“No way.” Nick shook his head. “I’m not leaving you all alone with him.”

“We can sneak out of the violin recital.” Isadora said. “And keep watch on you. Make sure he doesn’t try anything.”

“No.” Violet said. “No, we don’t want you anywhere near him.”

“Count Olaf is dangerous.” Klaus said. “He’s killed our guardians before, he’s tried to kill us.”

“We can’t ask you to risk your lives for us.” Lilac added.

“You can’t ask us to just sit aside and let him hurt you!” Isadora said.

Duncan added quickly, “We’re going to help you, whether you like it or not. We’re not losing you.”

He and Isadora shared a sad look, and it was understood quickly that there was a too at the end of that sentence. Violet put a hand over Isadora’s, and Klaus said, “Okay, but we don’t want you too close. We can’t lose you, either.”

“Just watch.” Lilac said. “If anything happens, Duncan, use your journalism skills to report on it. Don’t try to interfere if you could get hurt. Just remember that he wouldn’t kill us, he can’t get our fortune if we’re dead.”

“Uno.” Sunny said unhelpfully, which meant something like, “Well, he only needs one of us alive.”

Lilac shuddered, and Nick said, “Thanks for that, Sunshine.”

“Nopro.” Sunny shrugged.

“Well, guess we’ll find out what he’s planning tonight.” Isadora said. “Should we break into the kitchens and arm ourselves with knives?”

“Yes.” Violet said.

“No, they’ll notice too much missing silverware.” Lilac said.

“Yeah, but we should totally steal knives.” Nick said. “At least a couple?”

“They won’t be sharp enough to do damage with.”

“Boker.” Sunny said. “Unless we take the cooking knives.”

“Why do I let you all suggest anything?” Lilac groaned.

That night, at sundown, the Baudelaires walked to the field. Lilac had actually let Violet and Nick take knives from the kitchens- as much as she hated to admit it, they were probably the ones who could use them best. Solitude kept Babbitt in her pocket, where the frog had already fallen asleep, and Sunny kept biting onto whatever she could to sharpen her teeth. Lilac, meanwhile, ran over everything in her head, trying to figure out a way to get her siblings safe should Olaf try anything violent. Her ribbon might be long enough to strangle someone with, or at least distract for long enough that the others could escape. Sunny was getting better at walking, though she was still mostly crawling, so someone would need to carry her. Probably Solitude, too, though she could move pretty fast.

When they got to the field, Count Olaf stood there, still in his ridiculous gym teacher disguise, in front of some buckets of white paint. As they approached, he said, “Ah, orphans. You’re late.”

“We’re on time, actually.” Klaus said, glaring at him. “You said to be here at sundown. It’s sundown.”

“My mistake. I heard someone refer to the late Baudelaires. They must have been talking about your parents.”

Nick bristled, and Violet said quickly, “Alright, cut the bull. Nobody else is here, Olaf, so you can tell us exactly what the hell you’re up to.”

“Vi!” Lilac hissed.

“Why,” Olaf said, momentarily dropping his false accent and putting a cold hand on Violet’s shoulder, “I’m simply trying to give you a good education, my dear Violet.”

Lilac reached forwards, ripping his arm away from her sister, and she said in a low growl, “Put your hands on her again and I’ll rip your fucking fingers off.”

“Lilac, that’s no way to talk to your gym teacher.”

“You’re not a gym teacher any more than you were a herpetologist or a Captain or a secretary.” Nick said.

“Au contraire, orphan,” said Olaf, “I’ve been hired to teach physical education, which makes me a gym teacher. Now, I’m going to need you to take this white paint and make a large circle in the field.”

The Baudelaires stared at him in confusion. “Excuse me?” Klaus said, as Solitude said, “Wha?”

“Take this white paint,” Olaf said, very slowly, as if they were unable to hear him, “And make a large circle in the field. From about here to… over there.” he gestured to an area far away. “Get to work, orphans.”

The younger Baudelaires turned to Lilac, who took a deep breath and then walked towards the paint cans, picking up a brush and looking it over, as if trying to determine if there was something in it that could hurt them. Then she nodded, and she and Klaus both grabbed a brush and started painting a circle in the grass. Nick followed Klaus, holding tightly onto Solitude with one hand and picking up a paint can with the other, while Violet did the same with Sunny and the other can. It took them a while, but eventually they made a large circle on the ground.

They placed the cans near some bleachers, and then Coach Genghis, who was sitting on the steps, said, “Now. I want you all to run laps around the circle.”

“What?” Violet and Klaus both said.

“Run laps around the circle.” he once again spoke slowly and loudly.

“How many laps?” Lilac asked.

“Until I blow my whistle.” said Olaf. “Now get running.”

“But-” Nick began.

“Get running. Or would you like to find out what happens if you don’t?”

Violet reached slowly for her pocket, but Lilac gave her a subtle headshake and then said, “Whatever you say, Coach Genghis.”

Then the siblings moved to the circle, and started running.

“I,” Nick said, “Hated every fucking second of that.”

The Baudelaires had run in a circle all night- by the time Olaf finally blew the whistle, Babbitt had awoken and fallen back to sleep twice, Klaus had almost collapsed in exhaustion, and Lilac had thought that, for the first time, she was grateful her normal outfits had been packed away in exchange for a uniform that was better for running.

When Olaf finally dismissed them, the Baudelaires found that it was just about time for them to go to class.

“I’ve never been more tired in my life.” Klaus said. He glanced over the edge of the roof they sat on, blinking away exhaustion.

“Same.” Solitude groaned, leaning on his leg, about to fall asleep.

“I was so fucking bored.” Nick said. “I never thought running for my life could be boring, but it was.”

“Duncan and I traded off watching you all.” Isadora said. “Just to see when he’d try something. But he was just having you run laps all night.”

“I could barely pay attention in class.” Violet groaned, flopping over and leaning against Isadora.

“I wish he’d killed us.” Nick groaned.

Isadora smiled a little, looking down at her notebook. “It would be a stroke of luck / If Coach Genghis were to be hit by a truck.”

“God, it would.” Lilac sighed. “But we have to get back to class; if we’re late, we’re in trouble. Nick, are you still skipping?”

“Yes,” Nick said, “And I’m spending the whole day sleeping instead of throwing shit at kids on the ground.”

“Good for you.” Klaus said glumly. “Come on, girls, let’s get you to work.”

“Tik,” said Sunny, meaning, “No! Typing and stapling is so hard when we’re tired!”

“Stay with Nick!” Solitude protested.

“I’d like to stay, too, but we don’t wanna be late. Hopefully Mr Poe will find us a guardian soon and get us out of here.” Lilac said.

“Can’t Soli stay with me, at least?” Nick asked. “Why does Nero need two secretaries?”

“Say goodbye to Nick, Solitude.” Lilac said, grabbing the toddler’s hand and dragging her to her feet.

“Ugh.” Solitude groaned, as Klaus picked up Sunny.

“See ya later, bud.” Isadora said, punching Nick on the shoulder. “We can throw rocks at Carm tonight, how’s that?”

“Sounds fun.” Nick nodded, yawning. “Wake me up when it’s time.”

The rest of the kids descended the staircase to get to class, and Duncan said, “It doesn’t make sense. Why would he make you run laps all night?”

“Maybe he doesn’t have a plan,” Violet said, “And he’s just torturing us for fun.”

“If he just wanted to torture us,” Lilac said, reaching the bottom of the stairs and glancing down the halls, “He could do much better than running laps. Come on, Solitude, stay awake.”

“No.” Solitude said, leaning her head into Lilac’s skirt.

“Sunny, don’t fall asleep on me.” Klaus said. “You have work.”

“Olil.” Sunny groaned. “Leave me alone to die.”

“There you cakesniffers are!”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake.” Violet muttered, as they heard a familiar tap-tap-tapping from behind them.

They turned, and Carmelita said, “I have another message for you. Coach Genghis wants the Baudelaires to report to the field tonight at sundown for another running exercise.”

“What?” Violet said, shocked.

“Again?” Lilac said.

“But-” Klaus said.

“Hey, don’t shoot the adorable messenger.” Carmelita said, tossing her curls.

“We’ll shoot the annoying messenger all we like.” Isadora said.

“Speaking of which,” Carmelita said, “As this is the second message I gave you, I really deserve a tip at this point.”

“There’s a book about what happens when you let a bunch of schoolchildren run around unsupervised,” Klaus said, “And it features a pig’s head on a stick.”

Carmelita huffed. “You all are impossible.”

“We are aware.” Lilac groaned.

#asoue #asoue netflix #asoue movie #a series of unfortunate events #six baudelaires au #the austere academy #six baudelaires official fic #mine #my fanfic

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mitch-nom-blog · 5 years ago

Text

REFLECTION -

june 2nd / hostel in la / self

he stumbles into the room that isn’t quite home but may be the third best thing, where the person at reception changes every two months but there are long-term regulars that know him by a name. he doesn’t know how to rent a house but this is the next best thing, where he knows the area like a well-used map, creased in the edges and marked with favourite things.

it’s as close to the word familiar as he ever wants to get, and still, somehow, it gets disrupted.

At first, the room seems like any other, empty and familiar in a way that isn’t difficult to ignore. It is not, however, all that it seems. A figure stirs in the corner of the room, languid and smiling. He approaches Mitch, a perfect mirror reflection of him - or almost. This version of Mitch is not much older but he looks it, his eyes sunken and his cheeks taut. There is dried lipstick on his neck peeking out from under his collar. It looks to be hours old, though the bite right beside it could be days old. Energy, powerful but but almost too rich, radiates off of him even at a distance. The closer he gets, the more faint sounds can be heard around them - the chattering of voices too soft to be understood, music that fades in and out, the intrigue of some kind of party or event. The mirror Mitch takes no note of it. His gaze, slightly glazed over, scans up and down the real Mitch in front of him

he doesn’t know why he’s surprised to see another hallucination. perhaps he’s already fallen asleep, perhaps its salma or aeron, perhaps its another drop of crazy in the ocean he’s been swimming in. he doesn’t blink, just stands there, looks at how close they got it.he doesn’t have any hickeys himself right now, rarer for the past month, doesn’t normally hear voices like this, but the rest, the clothes, the skin taut around his rib cage, the mania lingering in his eyes, he’s a past present future copy, older in the eyes, the hunger of a few years ago, standing here now.

“You poor thing,” he says, his voice light but strained, like any pressure would crack it in two. “I remember you. Still hoping, even if you won’t admit it, that things could change.” Absently he scratches at a spot beneath his rib cage, revealing the extent to which his shirt hangs off his thinning frame. “That something could be permanent.” He laughs, a brittle thing, and looks right at Mitch. “It’s easier if you stop hoping. I know you know that. Don’t you want it to be easier?” His breathing quickens for a moment and he looks as if he’s caught up in a painful memory, but it passes soon enough, and he’s back to smiling again like it never happened. His lips split a little too wide. “I can show you, you know. Show you how much better it is when you just keep everyone out of your head. They can’t hurt you if you don’t let them in. The universe can’t tear you away if you keep your roots to yourself.” He holds out his hand, seemingly unaware of the way it quivers, his fingers and wrist built with hollow bird bones. “Don’t you want to be free of the fear that you’ll end up alone?”

he hesitates

it hurts, like a bandage ripped off too early, the wound stinging when exposed to the light. each word is like a diamond cutting through the boxes he had hidden his thoughts in, fears that had taken root since fei had picked him up, blossomed when he had been thrown around the world like a rag doll.

to be free of that fear is to be free of any leash and he knows his reflection too well to turn down the offer, to stop the pain that’s been racking through him since the glitch.

he knows it.

he knows the truth, so he takes the hand even as he hates himself for it, but that taste isn’t new, has coated his tongue since he can remember and perhaps freedom can set it free.

Instead of taking him anywhere, the reflection - if that's what he is - pulls Mitch close, wrapping him in his arms. "I know," he coos, brushing his palms over Mitch's back. "I know how you feel. They're going to leave you, you're right. They'll push you out. But that's okay, because you don't need them. I didn't need them, and look at me." He smiles, a brittle thing. "I left. I left them all behind, everyone who ever tried to hold me down. That's the thing about us, Mitch. We're not tethered to the world like they are. We aren't meant to stay put. We don't need to look out for them or anyone else. Just us. Isn't that right?"

he can’t pull away. never knows how to -

how to respond to the foreign sensation of an embrace. he just stiffens, lets the words wash over him even as they compound the truth that the shadows in his dreams whisper to him.

a broken voice and he whispers out “ can’t i enjoy it? while it’s here? it’ll hurt later, anyway, they’ll leave me. of course. i know this, it’s all a lie, but can’t i keep it for now? “

"Why let them hurt you?" He pulls away only far enough to look Mitch in the eye. "You have the ability to leave. You get to choose. They don't get to hurt you just because they think it's fun to play with you when you're shiny and new, and then toss you away as soon as they get bored." He shakes his head, his hands sliding up to cup Mitch's cheeks. "Why bother with people like that? All people are like that. Why bother with any of them? It's not your responsibility."

because i want to lingers on his tongue but he knows that it doesn’t matter, not with the pain of loss he knows is coming.

“ i leave “

he can’t meet his own eyes, wonders if his real self is screaming in his sleep.

“ then i don’t have to leave now. right? “ there’s desperation and longing in his voice, weakness he knows will get picked up on.

he doesn’t mind the others thinking that he’s shiny and new, as long as they do play with him, knows that he’d do anything for their attention. but they’re not dropping him, not yet. when it looks like they will then he can leave.

“ i don’t mind “ getting used, getting thrown to the side, as long as he gets a few hours in the warmth. “ it’s better than nothing “ his tone is pleading but he can’t pull away from his own embrace, shame and desperation rooting him to the spot.

"You still have to decide what you do. I left them first." His voice focuses just a little, just enough that he seems more present out of nowhere. "I got tired of getting thrown out, so I left before they could. They told me they needed me, but I knew those were just lies." His smile starts to fade. "Why should anyone else matter, Mitch? It's just you in this world. Nobody else can be counted on. If the world burns, that's not your problem, because they'd all leave you out to fry if they could."

the fading smile strikes fear, that even himself gets tired of being around him. he backtracks, stumbles on his words. “ they don’t, they don’t “

it’s all a lie, but he’d never lied before. one constant of truth and now even that had spiraled away.

“ the world isn’t real it can burn this reality can burn but - “ he stumbles again, wants to be pulled back into that embrace. but -

he likes the heat while it lasts, a frog left in water slowly turns boiling will stay and cook alive. let the world burn let them all burn he just wants that window corner and those pranks and the chaos and the head pats the affirmation the validation while it lasts.

“ the universe only allows me to burn. there’s no other possibility. there’s no happy ending. you’re not a happy ending. you’re me. “ his hands come up to rest around his reflection’s waist.

“ can’t i steal just this little bit of warmth? “

"I'm not a happy ending?" he asks, his brow creasing as he looks at Mitch with faraway eyes again. "I feel happy. I am happy. No one can hurt me. I just hurt them first and I'm fine, in the end. See?" He smiles again, though the expression is off kilter. "You don't need all of that. You don't need them. I know, and I can show you, but you have to want it. Really want it. The only person who can never leave you is yourself, Mitch."

a laugh, sharp and bitter, echoes in the empty room

a happy ending is one where he was never left behind, one where he kept the name he can’t remember, had a family, had a home.

this him, the hickeys and bones and taste of power is too familiar, too of kilter, he can see the reflection of madness in his eyes. “ i don’t have myself “ his brain is someplace, his body elsewhere, cracked at the edges and even his own sanity has left him. “ you’re going to leave me. i’ve left me. what else is there to risk? “

it’s the argument that runs circles around his head even as he falls asleep, what makes him turn up on the lair’s doorstep every morning. why he’s so tired from taking people across the globe, because for once, he’s needed. and he doesn’t care about pain when that pleasure is shooting straight through his spine.

he tugs his reflection closer, close enough to kiss, the motion bruising his hip bone.

“ if you think you’re sane then you really have gone mad “

(tw incest / selfcest)

The reflection makes no move to stop him, hovering so close their identical noses brush. "Magic itself," he offers in a murmur. His hands find Mitch's waist, dig into the flesh there. "Stay with them just for the temporary reprieve and they will take the one thing you have from you. You've seen them bickering. They don't even care about each other. They'd step on each others' throats for power." His spine curves, bending him over Mitch. "You think Jude cares about anything but his own hide? Or Kian with his temper?" His expression doesn't change, languid and a little hazy, but his voice begins to harden. "I don't have to be sane to be fine. I just did what they were going to do to me eventually. How is that wrong? How can it be wrong to put yourself first? You're all you have, even if you don't believe it."

he tenses, that fear skittering like ice down his back.

magic doesn’t exist, it’s all a lie and yet -

and yet the power around him, those muttering voices, edges of music, that scent of power envelops him and it’s so rich on his tongue that he chokes

gasps, longs to consume.

“ if i leave, “ he whispers, doesn’t know if the false temptation of this power is enough to overcome the warmth of the others. “ if i go, how can i develop it? how can i - how can i have this? “

he licks his lips, tastes the air. it’s not wrong, to leave. he’s done it before, a thousand times, climbed out of the windows of houses of people who had offered their home, opened their doors. it’s inevitable, he knows that, he’s done it countless times.

but why does the thought of this time hurt in itself?

He smiles, a vivid thing this time, no fragment of his pride hidden from view. "I can show you everything. There is so much more that you can have, that will keep you safe and warm and better than any of them ever can, or will." He runs the pad of his thumb over Mitch's cheek. "I can't show you now, I don't have the power, but I will be back to bring it to you. I know you don't believe that." He leans forward, resting his forehead against Mitch's. His voice is barely above a whisper. "I know the moment I say I'll come back, you don't believe me. That's okay. I will, and it will be a breath of air for your drowning lungs. Then I will take you with me, away from all the hurt. We don't like to make promises we can't keep, so know when I tell you this - I promise, if you come with me when I return to you, you will never regret it - that it carries weight."

that smile is like the sun shining down on him, no matter that the other self is a fragment of his imagination, of the world shattering around them.

the temptation, it’s blinding, and he steps closer, his hands tight on his reflection’s hips. safe and warm, it’s too bad it’s all a lie, an illusion. he won’t be coming back, he won’t be able to take him away. but it’s heady, a drug he can’t refuse.

one hand comes up to pull at his reflection’s hair, tight as he finally makes proper eye contact. “ you promise? “ there’s weight in the air, in the words, knows that even the fevered parts of his brain would never commit to something like this.

he can’t promise back, doesn’t know how to find the truth in the tangled knots of his thoughts but

but -

"I promise." The words are a prayer. He repeats it over and over, his smile growing so fond, so understanding, like the fingers gripping his scalp only bring him joy. "I came here to find you and take you with me, I know how to do it again. You'll always have a choice, of course. When I come back, you can decide not to come with me. It's up to you. But I can only tell you how much you will miss if you make that choice." He arches, his nose nuzzling at the crook of Mitch's neck. "I promise I will be back, and I promise I can give you something so, so much better than what any of them pretend to offer you."

the breath leaves his lungs and his grip softens, turns to carding through his hair in the way that he knows he likes.

its a lie, he knows that, its a lie, and that’s the only truth he’s ever known. but

but he arches his neck to let his other self pull closer, let’s himself fall into the temptation of that lie. not yet, he doesn’t have to make the choice just yet. but one day - when it looks like they’re ready to throw him away, then

- maybe.

“ what are you offering for now? “ he asks, smirking, moving his hands to unbuckle his reflection’s belt.

He mirrors Mitch's expression, a perfect recreation, and brings his chin up to whisper his next words in his ear. "Now? I can give you a taste of what you can have." His grip returns to Mitch's hips, tightens, spins him around and presses him into the wall. The idle, unbodied laughter in the air around them grows louder. They are exact mirror images of one another, right down to the last detail. And just as Mitch would, his reflection is gone before he awakens the next day, though the music lingers, faint and ghostly, and there are glimmers of power still in the air.

#int.self #event three #int.starter #this is so long yall im so sorry #tw incest #for the ending ill mark it again within #tw unreality #tw hallucinations #because he thinks the whole thing is a dream #also ignore that the image the reflection is ten and not taeyong it worked okay

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ellaustenn · 6 years ago

Text

Isn’t it obvious?

Pairing: Charlie x Reader

Word count: 2043

Author’s note: For Rowan I used “he/she” and “him/her”, because I know that there’s a male Rowan and a female Rowan. This is also the first “xReader” that I write in absolute and English is not my first language (I’m Italian).

- - - - - -

The air was fresh, sparkling. It smelled of moss, grass wet with dew and damp earth mixed together, a sweet and strangely melancholic combination. The water of the Black Lake was still, resembling a large mirror on which the colors of dawn reflected. Pink that blended with blue, yellow that blended with red and orange; a wonderful painting.

You let yourself go to a sigh. You were sitting on the trunk of a tree fallen a few feet from the shore of the lake. An elbow resting on the legs, the palm of a hand supporting the head. You were still wearing pajamas, on your feet a pair of slippers with the colors of your House.

“We should not be out here, [y/n]” Rowan murmured, breaking the silence. “It's against school regulation, and you know it well”

Rowan was one of your best friends, a loyal companion. You two had met at Hogsmeade before you started your Hogwarts adventure, and since then you've never been separated. Rowan was a that tipe of person who really liked studying; Rowan often took her classes instead of Binnis - the ghost did not even notice and kept talking in his boring and soporific tone.

“You could have stayed in bed and sleep late, Rowan,” you replied, shrugging. “Nobody told you to follow me here”

As soon as the words came out of your mouth, you felt guilty. You knew Rowan was there to keep you company, so you were not alone. It was just like when he/she gave you a hand to get ready to face anything between you and the Cursed Vaults. Rowan was your friend and simply wanted to help you.

For the second time, you let yourself go to a sigh. “Sorry”

“For what?” Rowan asked.

“I guess you followed me with the intention of cheering me up,” I replied, biting my lower lip. “and instead I treat you badly”

“You did not do anything like that, [y/n]” Rowan said, putting a hand on your shoulder and holding her a little. “Let's say that at the moment you're... indisposed“

You giggled. “Indisposed?”

Now you both laughed. When the laughter faded, and the silence returned among you, you returned to admire the dawn. The sky was still a wonderful painting: besides the sun, which slowly rose, there were a few white clouds - one in the shape of a centaur.

Your mind returned to the most recent events. You had just started to study the boggars and the professor had decided to make you try to tackle one. You had expected to see He-Who-Not-Must-Be-Named, but the boggart had taken on the appearance of your brother.

Jacob was beautiful, just as you remembered. Your hero, the one who protected you and made you feel the luckiest person in the world. You lowered the wand, wondering why the boggart took the form of Jacob: he could not be your greatest fear.

But you realized that there was something different about him. What did Penny say once? “I hope you find him, [y/n]. I just hope he’s the same person you remember...”

And indeed, the Jacob you had before your eyes was not the good and kind brother you had known. His eyes were closed with a slit, an evil grin on his strangely pale face. He seemed he was about to growl like a ferocious beast. His wand pointed at you.

As if it was not enough, at the time of dinner, someone came to you and told you something have that have definitely put you KO. The Gryffindors of your own year, a Potions, had prepared the Amortentia: Charlie Weasley, your crush, had smelled the vapors of the potion.

“He made the name of a girl of the third year of Gryffindor” they said. “I thought he would have said your name”

Rowan yawned and your attention shifted to your friend. Despite everything, you smiled. You were about to tell your friend that he/she would have to go back to the dorms and get a good night's sleep, that you would wake him/her up later and that you would even bring him/her breakfast, but there was someone behind him/her. The figure that was getting closer and closer was also in pajamas, the red hair indistinguishable.

Charlie Weasley.

Rowan realized that you were looking behind him/her, then turned and frowned. How did Charlie know you were out there?

“Hey” he greeted you, a little embarrassed. “[y/n] can I talk to you for a moment? In privat?”

You nodded. Rowan nodded as well and rose from the trunk, heading for the castle. He/she said he/she was sleepy and would go back to sleep as he/she walked away. Charlie then took Rowan's place.

“I heard about the boggart” said Charlie. “How are you?”

You shrugged and puffed. “Meh”

Having him so close made you feel the heartbeat and the butterflies in the stomach awakened. You looked elsewhere to hide your red cheeks, but you did not miss the amused smile on Charlie's face. Did he saw that you had blushed?

Unfortunately, in addition to the butterflies and that fantastic thrill that ran down the line, you had to remember that Charlie did not return your feelings at all. You began to torture your fingers and decided to change the subject: you didn’t really want to talk about what had happened with the Jacob-Boggart.

“How did you know we were here?” you asked. “Rowan and I came out in the middle of the night on tiptoe. Filch has almost caught us”

“I do not know how to explain it, [y/n]. A feeling, I suppose” he replied, getting closer to you. “It's since they told me what happened to you with the boggart that I struggle to close my eyes at night”

You looked back at the sky and you realized that by now the sun was high in the clear blue sky. The cloud shaped like a centaur now looked more like something formless and without contours. The surface of the Black Lake broke and a huge tentacle emerged that looked for hot rays.

“You know you can always count on me, [y/n]” said Charlie.

You were still torturing your fingers, but he took your hand. He touched the palm with the fingertip of the index and a pleasant shake spread throughout your body. How could he make you feel like that? Why with him even simply breathe became the most beautiful thing in the world? How was it possible that dealing with the Cursed Vaults seemed so easy with him?

“If you need to talk and let off steam, or be quiet for hours“ Charlie continued, now intertwining your fingers.

“Or if I need a dragon egg” you joked, turning in his direction and smiling.

“Or if you need a dragon egg” he repeated, chuckling.

A smile remained on Charlie's face as the laughter faded. He looked at you in the eyes and imperceptibly approached your face with his. He wet his lips and you thought how many freckles there were on the beautiful face of red guy in front of you. In the chest, your heart was beating so fast that sooner or later - you knew it - it would pop out and tell Charlie what you felt for him.

Then the Amortentia came back to mind.

“So, I heard that Snape made you prepare a new potion“ you said, suddenly getting up from the trunk you were sitting on. You let go of Charlie's hand and hugged you, pretending to be cold. “Amortentia, eh?”

“Would you like to ... would you like to know what was the smells of it?” he asked, his face now as red as his hair.

“Someone is embarrassed!“ you laughed at him, although for you it was like being stabbed in the heart. “Look at you! You're all red, Charlie!”

Charlie got up from the trunk and wiped the sweat of his hands on his pajama bottoms. He could not look you in the eye, he kept clearing his throat to save time and when he finally opened his mouth, you prepared for the worst. Surely, hearing him talk about the person he liked would have destroyed you slowly.

You like them so much, eh?” you asked him, serious

Charlie suddenly raised his head, surprised and relieved at the same time. He smiled, ran a hand through his hair - he had left it loose - and then he said, “Isn’t it obvious?”

Now it was your turn to gain time. As he had done a little earlier, you cleared your throat, then turned your gaze to the Black Lake. Your vision clouded: you were about to cry. But you didn’t want Charlie to see you, so you just nodded and wished him luck.

“I'd better go” you said, trying to smile. “I promised Rowan I would bring him/her breakfast”

You move towards the castle. You had done more or less five steps, when Charlie grabbed your wrist and turned you around. You went to collide with his chest, hurting your nose a little bit. When you raised your head, you found Charlie's face very close to yours. His breath was warm, it tickled your skin.

“Chocolate Frogs, fresh lemon, orange scent and ...” Charlie bit his lip to keep from laughing. “... wet dog”

Chocolate Frogs: they were your favorite. You could have eat them up to burst, you didn’t even care so much about the figurines; you gave them all and Tonks and she, to make you laugh, took the form of those in front of her.

Fresh lemon: a slice always in your hot tea, to give it that aroma you liked so much.

Orange scent: you had a bottle in the trunk and when it was about to end, you always sent a letter to your parents to send you a new one. It was almost impossible to find that profume, but they could do it every time.

Wet dog: it was Tonks who had told the rest of your friends that, like Talbott, you had become an Animagus. Charlie had begged you for weeks to see you in animal form. At the end, you had given in: you had turned into a dog and sat in front of him, with the tail going here and there. Then Charlie had taken a stone and had transfigured it into a ball: “Run to get it [y/n]!” he had said, but you had sat still, staring at him as if to say “Are you serious?” with your dog eyes.

“Sorry, what?” you murmured, out of breath. “What does it mean?”

“I repeat: isn’t it obvious?”

Now Charlie seemed to have found the courage he had missed for a long time, perhaps from the day you met. At the beginning it was a simple friendship, the one between you two, but over time the feelings had changed and he found himself having a crush on his best friend. He had told Bill, his older brother. Bill told him to come forward and tell you how he felt, but Charlie was afraid of losing your wonderful relationship and you.

“How is it possible?” you whispered, relaxing in his arms. “They told me it was a Gryffindor the person you liked”

Charlie shook his head. He touched your nose with his. “You are the first to whom I say what my Amortentia smells like. Maybe someone wanted to prank you” He pulled away a little, so he could see you well, and frowned. “I wonder why, though”

“Maybe because they know I like you, Charlie” you said softly, blushing.

A big smile appeared on his face. He picked you up and then, without thinking twice, he kissed you. His lips were soft, perfect. You breathed deeply his scent and told you that you didn’t need a potion to know who was the person who attracted you most to the world, because that person was kissing you relentlessly.

Then a chorus rose up. Behind you there were your friends who applauded, exulted, whistled.

“Finally!”

“It was about time!”

“You were the only ones who couldn’t see that you like each other!”

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