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willowaudreykeyes · 4 years

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Okay: I’ve watched it 4 times and here’s the things about the episode that I find interesting. Or that I’m looking too much into. You guys can all decide because idk.

- Roman seems to make alliterations when he's shocked? He's done it before, but now he's done it again and when he's surprised that Thomas 'lied' or 'tricked' the ticket person.

- Virgil has resting disappointed face even as he eats popcorn.

- Roman is very dramatic about the age thing. "He's in his thirties, he may as well be in his sixties." "Can't think of new excuses quick enough in his old age."

- "I love you" is very big words. Do not use them, or forget them, lightly around Virgil.

- Have they always been on his back so much about lying, or was it only after Janus was introduced?

- Possibility: Romans eyes actually change into hearts when cute guy appears?

- Also: Roman goes into Shakespearean when cute guy appears.

- Roman is so optimistic when it comes to love! But not about other Sides? He's rather pessimistic when it came to Virge (at the beginning) and Janus. And kinda Remus too.

- Roman has used "We don't know if he's not gay" more times then the three can count.

- Pins equals introverts way of talking apparently. I guess that makes sense, since there’s pins for almost every kind of hobby, and Virgil knows this too.

- Roman sounds rather happy when they found out that Nico likes Paramore. Supporting his emo friend and his hobbies right there.

- “The Nightmare Before Christmas” is and will always be a Prinxiety thing. Did you see those star eyes Roman gave? And how happy-surprised Virge was?

- Virgil does think about romance too. “You can live like Jack and Sally, if you want.” Kind of cute.

- Virgil has eyes like a damn hawk. He saw those pins and went full on x10 zoom on them.

- Roman’s got some adorable music happening when more clues appear.

- Sticker/Button System must be followed or Virge no happy.

- Roman is almost as good as Patton with puns, except he has to explain it. Has he done that before? I feel like he has. I feel like this is a thing but I’m not sure.

- Roman and Virgil have about the same wavelength when it came to the creepy stalking-ish part. They both cringe when Thomas goes off to the side.

- If you use a word at the end of a sentence that sounds like a name at Roman, he thinks you got his name wrong. He did it at some other point I can’t remember when but he does this. Kind of feels like a autism and/or ADHD trait? (I know I for sure get confused sometimes)

- “Great... he’s gay” “Great indeed...” “GREAT INDEED” I love them. Just gonna say that again.

- Roman has this big thing about his name and it doesn’t seem like its a thing he’s faking? He seems genuinely confused. The one that’s two above mentions it, and the way he spelt it at the trial? And how he seemed very defensive when Janus spelt it wrong? This is a thing.

- Virgil is a self-proclaimed expert of anti-social etiquette and I say he deserves that title.

- Virgil also really likes non-verbal ways of communicating.

- Roman does the thing where you put your two pointer fingers together and its adorable.

- Fast head nod of agreement coming from Roman here. Over dramticness? Or actual quirk?

- Roman very much freaks out when flirting goes wrong. Not just a Virgil thing.

- Virgil be scaring Thomas with zero regrets when he lost his test that the Universe gave him.

- Virgil be very glad to admit when he’s panicking. He also has admitted when he’s anxious in the past. He knows it, acknowledges it, makes Thomas and the others deal with it because dealing with it isn’t in the job description.

- Roman’s fine with compromise! Virgil gives an idea that attempts to help the romance part, Roman’s not 100% happy but rolls with it. Besties right here (even if they don’t know it). He does have a limit though.

- Nicknames are forever with Roman.

- Virgil is on Thomas’ left side, the more ‘thinky’ side of the brain. Roman is on the right, the more ‘feely’ side of the brain. It’s kind of more obvious in the scene where they grab Thomas a lot.

- Roman really slips with his feelings when he’s stressed. He says stuff that’s usually more about his self-worth. “You’re making a mistake.” “If I am, I’ll add it to the list.” That was said under a lot of stress and frustration. He’s done it before and he’s done it again; except now they don’t address it and it’s just a passing sentence.

- pLaNt

- Virgil would rather embarrass Thomas by making him talk to a stranger, instead of the guy that he thinks is cute? I mean, its very embarrassing by the end of it and Virge barely seems affected by it.

- And now Virgil is compromising. He works with Roman to make sure that Thomas looks okay (the “check your teeth” line).

- idk wtf the sty’s thing is about. Weirdly placed anxiety over it? Or something?

- Roman is very impulsive and basically throws Thomas into the trash can when a bad thing happens in front of a lot of people. Ego was definitely hurt there. Why hide instead of run away? Did Virgil sorta influence that?

- Plans help anxiety. Pretty sure they’ve covered that topic before, but lets just do a recap in this I guess.

- Virgil is half the people on this platform “Cyberstalking... but real life”. I mean, everyone makes a metaphor that has an actual word behind it sometimes.

- “Try Speaking from the heart” ... I expected Patton, but there has been moments before where a Side who is expected to be there, isn’t there. Logan showed this in “Moving On” when he physically left but he never REALLY left. Patton showing up to add his own words to this may have been too much for him? Or he thought it would be for the others?

- Ah crap here’s the monologue-

- First off, it’s very honest. Full on honesty. With no holding back. And it really hit the feels; but is it realistic though? (Genuinely asking I’ve never been in that kind of situation)

- Very rambly too “I honestly don’t know what I’m doing at the mall today. I don’t know what I was looking for... I guess that answers my question- The mall is where you go when you want something but you don’t know what it is because the mall has everything.” Very rambly, very nervous, very honest.

- Roman and Virgil are very... in awe? Shocked? What is this? Roman looks so contemplative as he looks at himself in the mirror and I wanna be in his brain and know what he’s thinking.

- “I don’t know a lot about anything. Least of all, myself.” Okay, Janus just pulled all the way away for a full minute and forty-eight seconds (this is 99% accurate) to just let Thomas talk and feel didn’t he? This is just complete honesty.

- Anyone would be awkward with the guy coming out of that stall. I’m awkward thinking about it and seeing it again. Moving on-

- “I gotta stop wooing strangers in bathrooms” just a 3000 word fic of at least one other time that he’s done this and I will be yours forever

- Virgil is a dramatic emo who dislikes lying. Crossed arms, waiting outside for him, looks up when he says “you know what I meant”- They’re all part of an actor your at least a LITTLE dramatic.

- Virgil has a big thing about lies and relationships. This has to do with him and Janus’ relationship somehow- It’s about Thomas’ relationships with friends and his romantic life too. He didn’t seem as annoyed about them in the ‘Lies’ song way back when which didn’t mention lying about any type of relationship.

- “Can’t have true love if the relationship isn’t built on truth.” Is this what he was thinking about in the bathroom? Its a cute line either way.

- Okay, Roman and Janus have some kind of... something. Cause a lot of Roman’s talks about his goals for Thomas pushes Thomas into relying on Janus until Roman realises that it’s morally bad OR (as seen in the talk after the bathroom scene) when he realises that it’ll be bad for Thomas in the long run.

- “Will (D)deceit continue to be the answer to all of your problems? Is that fair to him?” HIM WHO!? Janus or Nico!? Both!? AHHHH! This could mean so much in any direction you throw it but I can’t find the dang words!! “No, he’s better off without me.” This could just be Thomas misunderstanding the ‘him’ Virgil means too or he does understand idk-

- “I was afraid you left!” *INSERT TWO SIDES SCREAMING HERE* Hahaha he’s literally screaming on the inside omg-

- “He fears things too!?” Virgil doesn’t understand how people work when he’s worked up. Duly noted.

- Roman and Virgil equals A Gay Panic

- Thomas’ first thought when panicked is to ask the guy, that he thinks is cute and has been trying to get the attention of for the last while, ‘what is wrong with you?’ ... 10/10 Thomathy

- .Roman seems... a little resigned that another ‘chance at happiness’ is walking away? I mean, he’s super sad but resigned to his fate. That’s sad as hell. He’s USED TO THIS and I don’t like that 😢

- Virgil’s scene where he looks between, NOT Thomas, but Nico and Roman, is really well done and filled with... a lot. He psyches himself up first of, taking in quick breaths before pushing Thomas, obviously afraid but still doing it anyway. And the look he gives a very resigned Roman looks like its both guilt and sadness. Could just be me thinking that he has a ‘this is my fault’ thing.

- Full on surprise on Roman’s face when Virgil pushes Thomas. No one was expecting that.

- Carrots. The carrots brought them together. Thomas... you don’t have to eat carrots, but at least say ONCE that they aren’t all bad.

- “I like songs” you’ve also written some and sung x5 as many but okay, go with that I guess. (Is this to not brag about being a singer right away? I guess so?)

- If Nico was writing about something that happened midway through his visit to the food court, what was he writing about before that? Did he have nothing until Thomas tripped over the bin?

- “I tend to waste a lot of opportunities in my life” Then cuts to Virgil. Ouch. Direct hit on Virge...

- BRAVERY. (i’ll get back to this-)

- “Shut up, emo.” No complicated nicknames; just the easy picking. Very cute. Very yes. Roman your a sap and its great.

- When Thomas is telling Roman to ‘get out’, he sinks down and is he biting his thumb? He’s still excited. And I’m adding ‘biting’ to his list of stims.

- Virgil claps his hands. Roman and Virgil both cover their mouths. Both yell. Manic hand movements. Virgil gets Thomas to walks around and flappy hands. (And the nervous pee too I guess?)

- OKAY. EYESHADOW. Big thing, also new. I believe that it may be him ‘growing’ as a Side. First, he believed that he was JUST Thomas’ anxiety. Then comes to term with being more then that, which helps him become a ‘Light Side’. And now, he’s learnt that ‘fear’ and ‘bravery’ can both be present at the same time and is now growing from that as well. So, his back and forth between black and purple could mean a back and forth of the ‘fear’ and ‘bravery’ aspects. Thomas about to send a bad tweet? Black. Optimistic about things ‘never being the same again’? Purple. Thomas bringing up that they just met? Black. Its a promising start? Purple again. Purple when something optimistic, its purple. Pessimistic, its black. There’s a thing happening there.

- And also, lots of smiley Virgil when he goes purple. Brave enough to smile? Or optimistic enough to be truly happy about it?

- “Join me! No thinking!” Okay, all the ‘Roman Himbo’ stans have already gone nuts over this so I’ll keep going XD

- Roman’s first date idea is to go to France immediately and I love him for being so honestly over-the-top

- Dogs are the demons of anxiety its now a fact. They even bring out the Tempest Tongue, despite hearing the dog “thirty times a day”.

- Do not tell Virgil to relax. Black eyeshadow. Very on brand tbh. He does not relax and you should know this by now Roman.

All in all; I love them and the entire episode ❤️ 🧡 💛 💚 💙 💜

#ts spoilers #sanders sides spoilers #sanders asides spoilers #roman sanders #virgil sanders #roman headcanons #virgil headcanons #i guess?#tw caps #willowkeyes for reference #willowkeyes rants #*throws at Tumblr* imma go rb art now

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vanchlo · 3 years

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The Partner / Chapter Eight, "The In Between"

Word Count: 6.1k words / Story Masterlist / Read The Assistant / Read on Wattpad / Song: Sweet Child O' Mine by Guns N' Roses (click to listen)

P.S. - Next chapter will be coming on March 23rd, but I only know this because I've written it already :P Otherwise, I know that they are pretty random which I'm sorry for. Thanks for reading!

"People live with things they don't talk about hidden in their heart."

- Un-Go アンゴ

There, I stop, because I realize what I’ve done. I hear it in my words and in her weeping, the step that I shouldn’t have taken. Without knowing, I spoke in present tense, and knew that I’d only made it worse. It reminded us of what we couldn’t have- what we wouldn’t have. What should’ve been. Should be.

Her head shook from side to side, although belatedly. Her cries had quieted at moments too, that is until her head dove back against my chest, and they returned. I held her there, pressing my lips to her head and closing my eyes, being sucked back into my thoughts. The should’ve-beens made a regretful comeback, and as each one paid a reminder to me, so did a tear down each cheek.

Two Weeks Earlier

Despite the sunshine pouring in through the window, the sight of the glittering snow outside my window chilled me to the bone. Wrapping my arms around myself didn’t help as the cold seeped in through my cardigan.

“Cold, again?” somebody chuckles from over my shoulder.

“Yeah. God, can you turn up the heat in this place, or what?”

“I dunno, you’ve already had me turn it up three degrees t’day. Not sure my Dad brain will allow me anymo.’ Yer gonna make me heatin’ bill skyrocket here soon.”

“Harry,” I giggle, looking behind me to catch his face just in time for him to surprise me with a hug from behind. “Come on, the baby and I are cold. You better soon, or else I’m buying a space heater for my office.”

“Yer gonna be usin’ that kid as an excuse fer ev’rythin.’ Arentcha, Becks?” a shiver runs down my spine at the feeling of his beard against my temple, but it doesn’t compare to his freezing hands on my stomach.

“Yes, because are you trying to make me turn into an icicle with those hands of yours?”

“What, I jus’ got back from lunch. ‘s winter outside, don’t y’know?”

“Wow, I had no idea,” I reply snarkily with a nod to my window before us.

“Watch it, sassy pants, or ‘ll keep those churros fer myself.”

The scoff is already curling my lips when I turn around, “You wouldn’t dare.”

“I would,” Harry contests, raising a brow at me until it all dissolves into his wheezy laughter. “Hey, put that pout away, sweetheart.”

“Don’t try to butter me up, mister,” I mutter, turning away from his waiting arms. His tongue clicks in response but I ignore it, starting for my phone that rings.

“Becks, I was only kiddin.’ Y’know I wouldn’t take away yer churros, love, they’re yer favourite,” he begins, but for some reason that really annoyed me. It doesn’t help when he takes hold of my hand, rooting me to the spot. “Hey, Crabby Pants, yer phone can wait. They can leave a message, but I wanna talk t’ my fiance.”

“What?” I mumble, facing him at last. The corners of his lips lift, and his contagious happiness is hard to resist.

“‘m sorry fer teasin’ you. ‘ll see ‘bout turnin’ tha heat up on this side, and yer churros are waitin’ in me office. ‘d never deprive my baby’s mum o’ her favourite food. No, not my wifey.”

“You better not,” I sigh, giggling against his lips when they press to mine. The gold flecks in his sage-colored irises catch the light when he looks down at me. Sometimes, I still wonder how the sunshine on his face could all be for me.

“I won’t,” Harry hums, reminding me of his own little ray of sunshine when his hand comes to my belly. “Ya should be careful with those churros, I think yer startin’ t’ show.”

“Am not.”

“Are to. Ya had a li’l bump this mornin’ when we were gettin’ ready. I saw it in tha mirror in tha bathroom when you were changin.’ Cutest thing I ever did see,” he coos, painting my face in thick strokes with that radiant smile of his. “Boobs are gettin’ bigger and bum too. ‘m likin’ this whole pregnant thing on you mo’ and mo’ ev’ry day.”

“Of course, you are,” I whisper, feeling the smile drain from my lips when the light catches it. The doctor said they’d fade with time, but three months on and the pink lines still won’t let me forget that nightmare I can’t escape. I saw them every day, in the shower with him or when I watched him get dressed beside me in the bathroom. The mornings when I woke up before him and dragged a finger across his tattoos. He was lucky that none of them were ruined by the numerous stitches, but they got by unscathed. I just wish I could say the same for everything else, for me.

“Hey, where’d that pretty smile go?” Blinking, I focus my gaze back on the dimples that fall into his cheeks.

“Your scars, they’re still . . ,” my train of thought disappears, because it’s nothing that I haven’t said before.

“Still there. I know, they jus’ don’t go away, buggie.” Frowning, his words sink in, but for maybe the fifth time. With a huff, I distract myself with the cream tie dotted with blush flowers that he picked out today. “Hey you, dontchu roll those pretty eyes at me.”

“I’m not.”

“But you are. ‘s it ‘cos somebody hasn’t had her churros yet this week?” his whiny voice grazes my ears from above. It’s difficult, but I control my lips and busy myself with picking a loose thread from his tie. “Becks, I see that smile,” he continues in a mocking tone, and soon I’m giggling against his neck as his nose drags along mine.

“‘Kay, baby, ‘m gonna go and grab yer lunch befo’ my meetin’.”

I whisper a ‘thanks’ against his lips before watching him disappear into the hallway. It’s not often, but my office is quiet, absent of the constant sounds of keys clicking, phones ringing, and a certain somebody being quite good at distracting me. Crossing the room, I plop down in front of my computer. The new messages showing on the side jump at my attention, but what grabs it is the picture frame beside it. With a smile that makes my cheeks ache, I pick it up to admire for the tenth time today. I’m sure that I’ll hit one hundred here, sooner or later.

“Think I like yer frame better, y’know.”

“Really?” I respond, lifting my eyes to Harry who sets down a greasy taco bag on my desk, a protein shake on the side. Don’t even get me started on how he’s already the nagging Dad.

“Ya, like the color and phrase better,” he notes, making me squirm from his hand on my side. It’s forgotten when it travels over to my belly, the exact place I hadn’t realized I’d laid a hand on too. “Can hardly believe it’ll be four months in two and a half weeks. We’re almost halfway there.”

“I know, it’s crazy to me.”

His mumbled agreement comes as I trace the lines of our baby’s profile over the frame’s glass partition. The same frame had sat on my desk for a while now, often updated with the newest sonogram picture after our latest ultrasound. One similar to it sat on Harry’s desk too, both a present from him. Several more occupied our fridge, phone lockscreens at times, and I’m sure in similar forms at both of our parents’ houses.

“Me too. I can’t wait tho,’ t’ be a dad.”

I didn’t think that my smile could get any bigger, but when I tip my head up to look at Harry hovering there, somehow it does.

“You’re going to be the best daddy.”

Sunshine fills every inch of his face, especially in the dimples caved into his cheeks. I hope our baby has those. Please.

“Why thank you. I feel rather lucky my kids get t’ have such a wonderful mummy too,” he notes with a quick wink, sponging a kiss to my forehead warmly. A few moments pass of admiring the picture until his voice interrupts my thoughts again. “Yer sure ‘s okay ‘m helpin’ My’ with that case in Bedford comin’ up?”

“Yeah, I don’t mind.”

“Won’t miss me too much, will you?”

Now, I don’t even bother to hide the way that I roll my eyes at him, accompanied by a sound of disgust. His nose wrinkles before his face creases in annoyance.

“Don’t ask stupid questions,” I almost retort with a joking tone, until I melt at the way he rubs his nose against mine in what some call a kiss. “We’ve been over this, Harry, it’s fine. Skye can stay the night with me if I get lonely, or something. I know an opportunity to have another win against your arch enemy can’t be passed up.”

This time, I really stumped him. It brings a song to my lips, because it’s not often that I get to surprise him anymore. Sometimes, I miss those days, but I’d never go back to them. No, we didn’t have the sweet honeymoon period of first meeting, it was the total opposite. I’d never give up where we’d finally gotten to now, engaged and expecting a baby in a little over five months.

“He ‘s not.”

Still, the crease between his eyebrows remains and I only want to laugh more, “Is too. Malakai Watters is your arch enemy, Harry. You’ve been griping about him since I first met you, no excuse about it is going to work on me.”

Shaking his head, I already hear the argument coming my way, “Watters ‘sn’t my enemy, you silly one, he never has been. ‘ve never had any enemies.”

“Lies and more lies. I’m pretty sure we were enemies once, but you’ll excuse that one too.”

“Eh, I think I can agree with that one,” his face has relaxed and so has his shoulders that rise and fall softly. The green in his eyes lights up when he cracks a laugh from above, despite still being upside down for me. At last, he spins me around and pins me with his hands planted on my armrests. He always has to hog those, at movies and in the car. “Enemies? I dunno ‘bout that word, but you drove me bloody mad in the beginnin,’ so much so ‘s a wonder ‘m marryin’ you now. Wouldn’t have believed anybody if they’d told me back then you’d become my bride. Snotty li’l Holte, me personal assistant.”

“Harry!” comes my exclamation, and like always, followed by his innocent giggle. Innocent, my ass.

“Hey, you were jus’ as guilty, Becks, don’t go denyin’ it. You did everythin’ in the fuckin’ book t’ push me buttons.”

I’m laughing before him and unsure of how to stop until grabbing hold of his neck to press my lips to his. His laugh buzzes against my mouth, cinnamon sugar sticking to his lips. That little churro thief. The gold in his eyes is sparkling when we separate, my cheeks aching once more.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” my question comes in a mumbled sigh, eyes darting between his reddening cheeks and glistening eyes. Wait, what? “Harry, why are you crying?”

“Have I ever told you how lucky I am t’ have you tho’?” Giggling for a reason I don’t know why, I lose myself in those neverending greens for the hundredth time.

“Perhaps, but another time wouldn’t hurt my ego.”

A wry titter escapes his lips for just a second when the first tear glides down his cheek. One that I immediately catch with the pad of my thumb.

“No, I mean it. We fought like cats and dogs when we first met, and we hated each other,” he goes on in a voice leaking of that molasses once more. Mine begin to part until his terse shaking head tells me ‘no.’ “Hush you, don’t you lie either. I know we hated each other’s guts nearly, but outta nowhere, you became my best friend. A few hundred hiccups between then and now, and look at us, gettin’ hitched and havin’ a baby.”

“Yeah,” is all that I can come up with. More like the only words I can shove past my lips. Ones that already tremble from the emotion spilled from his sunshine eyes. “Thank you for not giving up on me.”

“Reckon I have you t’ thank that fer, and loads mo,’” he corrects with wrinkled brows and a rub to my belly. Memories swim behind my eyelids as I kiss him back, hoping that if this is a dream after all, that I never have to wake up.

I wasn’t sure where I was anymore. No, this place I had never seen before with my two eyes, visited in my dreams, or travelled to in a book. Looking around me for some clue as to where I was, all I could see was golden trees, robin blue cloudless skies, and sunlight pouring in from every corner. It shined on my face and filled me with a warmth, one that I felt underneath my bare feet. When I peered down, my hands habitually went to my stomach but I found that it was completely flat once more.

A question filled my head instantly at the discovery, one that joined the many others of where I was, and everything that was around me. It all fell away instantly when something else took place inside of my head. I could never describe it to anybody or put my finger on it, but that feeling of mine told me that I wasn’t alone. Still with my hands on my stomach, I looked back up and found a young girl walking towards me. Sunlight shone down on her, following her as she walked through the kneehigh grass dotted with flowers. For a reason I couldn’t name, I didn’t want to look away from her in case she disappeared, but my attention was drawn to the beautiful field we were suddenly in. Wild flowers tickled my legs, reaching up to the lilac dress that fell to my knees and hugged the curve of my shoulders.

At the sound of rustling nearby, I glanced upwards once more to find her stopping a few feet away from me. There it was still, that feeling of mine, and as I stood there looking at her beaming up at me, I felt the way it filled my insides. There was something about her that I couldn’t figure out, but I feel like I should know who she is. I tried as I looked into her olive green eyes that sparkled with the secret she knew and I didn’t. A divot fell into one of her freckled cheeks as they rounded from her spreading lips. It sat there on the tip of my tongue as my feet led me forward, as if she was calling me to her. I didn’t know why or how I could, but I felt as if I knew her. This is what brought my hand forth to cradle her cheek, and thumb at the dark ringlets tickling her heart-shaped face.

She couldn’t be more than seven, a few years older than Harper. The second the thought appeared inside of my head, I wanted to shake it, knowing it couldn’t be. But as she stepped forward to wrap her arms around me, I felt the wetness descend onto my cheeks as she surrounded me with her sunshine like warmth. It felt as if I was hugging my younger self, because she was a spitting image of what I looked like, save for those green eyes.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered against my dress where she nuzzled her head into my chest.

“What are you sorry for?” I asked in return, rubbing circles into her shoulder where the sleeves of her green dress ended, the same shade as her eyes. She didn’t offer an answer, only squeezed me tight before pulling away to look at me with furrowed brows. “What’s wrong?” the words spilled out when a tear raced down her cheek, her smile disappearing.

Again, she didn’t answer me, only hastily encircling me once again with her arms. Once more, questions danced around in my head, chasing answers that wouldn’t come, subconsciously or from this little girl. Somehow, I knew her and felt close to her, but I didn’t know how or why. She was beautiful and so sweet, I already knew but I wasn’t sure how.

An ache filled my chest when the next words left her lips, ones that I couldn’t begin to understand. “I’ll miss you.”

Instead of uttering another question that would go unanswered, I held onto her tighter, trying to make out what she had called me at the end there. It was a name, but not one I could remember now. The songs of birds flying overhead surrounded us, as did the trickling of a nearby stream, and a hummed song that I knew from somewhere. One he would always sing to me, but for some reason, I couldn’t recall who he was now.

“Who are-,” my long awaited question came, but it was torn away when I looked down to find my arms empty. In a confused blink, the grassy field decorated with flowers and sunshine was gone.

At my feet, sat cold tiling and the birds were no more. So was the sunshine and warmth. Shivering, I wrapped my arms around me, feeling very cold all of a sudden. Belatedly, I looked up and at my surroundings, wondering where I was now. A dimmed, empty room stared back at me, quiet from the sounds of the world until one broke through the silence.

A cry pierced my ears, and made me spin around. A door stood across the room to my right, where the sound came from. Without knowing what I was doing, my bare feet padded across the chilly floor, and I twisted the handle. Another room awaited me, but this one wasn’t empty. Nor was I alone.

Rows upon rows of hospital cribs stared back at me, little bundles of blankets sat in each one. Babies. They all were quiet except for one. My feet led me in that direction without me knowing it, because there it was again. My feeling. It guided me towards the sound, one that grabbed hold onto something deep inside of me. I knew what it was and what I heard, it was clear as day.

A smile shot up into my cheeks when I stopped at the cradle that held a squirming, crying baby. Its pink face was pinched from wailing, a blush colored hat covering its head as a striped blanket hid its body. But as I reached out to pick them up, I blinked and they were gone. Stepping back, I stumbled and righted myself. Where did they go?

Where’s my baby?

Tears clung to my eyelashes, blurring my vision as I stared at the empty crib. A divot in the miniature mattress stared back at me, and so did something else. My bottom lip wobbled as a briny tear ran over it, but it came to shake harder when I read the name card stuck to the inside of the rolling crib.

Annie S.

Before me, my hand trembled as I reached into the crib, feeling the corner of the card before-

“Becks, lovebug,” a voice murmurs, and the image is ripped away from me. With a jolt, I feel the warmth of a hand on my shoulder, rubbing a line down my back. I’m glad to have been woken up by him and torn away from that nightmare, but at the same time, I’m not. I wanted answers. “It’s time to get up and have a shower, my love. It’s six-thirty, you have to wake up soon so we can go to work.”

Gulping, nothing will go down as a ball sits in my throat. Peeling my eyes open, Harry and I’s familiar bedroom materializes before me. With a ragged breath that races to fill my lungs, a wetness paints my cheeks.

“You can sleep for a little longer, bug, but I’m going to hop in the shower, if you want to join me,” his whisper comes against my temple. Hastily, I turn to bury my face into the pillow, hiding my wet eyes. “Okay then, but you have to be up in half an hour,” Harry finishes, pressing his warm lips to the top of my head.

As I listen to the sound of his parting footsteps, I grasp onto the covers tightly. Only when I hear the spray of the shower and him close the door behind him, do I let loose my sobs into the pillow. I lie there, wondering, why the tears and what is that dream supposed to mean? I’d had weird pregnancy dreams before, vivid ones even, but nothing like that. No, never.

Who was that little girl, and how did I know her? And where had my baby gone, I think to myself as I rub at my belly, worrying away.

“Ree, what do you mean you’re not getting married?”

Rolling my eyes could not begin to convey the thoughts racing through my head, born out of her exclamation.

“Of course, I’m getting married, Skye. What, are you daft? That’s not

what I’ve said at all, if you’d been listening,” I tut with an unruly shake of my head, snapping the cap back onto the honey bottle. “You asked when the wedding was, and all I’ve said is that Harry and I don’t know with everything that’s changed. We had a date for August but cancelled it after we found out about the baby.”

The sofa sighs when I plop onto it, leaving my steaming mug on the table. My best friend of over twenty years tsks beside me, biting off the side of a cookie. Her faux disappointment is all but lost on her when her eyes brighten, cookie crumbs soon falling from her hands.

“Speaking of, let’s see that bump. It’s been awhile, hasn’t it?” she nearly squeals, reaching forward to lift my shirt.

“Goodness, Skye, assault me much? All you’ve got to do is ask, don’t need to be undressing me now,” my response comes in a giggle, one that soon falls away when her hands fly to her mouth. My lips soon slide into a smirk that I find hard to control at the sight of her, after lifting my shirt the rest of the way.

“Bloody hell, you do have a bump, and it’s getting big! Fuck, I wish my boobs were as big as yours. Totally unfair, that is.”

“I dunno what you and Harry are on about, I hardly see anything,” I remark with a shrug, the smile staying when her hand comes to rub my pale stomach. “I just look bloated.”

“Ree, come on,” she scoffs with a tilt to her lips that to my surprise, remains quiet as she stares at my stomach. “It’s more than just bloated, you idiot. You’re pregnant, you’re having a baby. Sure, it takes a while to show, but you’re starting to!”

“Hardly,” I chuckle, dropping my blouse once she leaned back against the pillow with her cup of joe. “It’s weird being at this awkward stage where I’m pregnant but I don’t look pregnant.”

“I can imagine, but hold on. Take a few steps back to the ‘not knowing when you’re getting married’ part. Do you and Harry really not know?”

“How are we supposed to?” it comes out in a laugh, not as I’d expected at all. “I’m due to pop this baby out around the same time we had it planned for in the first place.”

“So,” she begins whilst blowing on her coffee. Something clicks inside of me when that happens, along with the raise of her brow. “You’re just happy with waiting, and not knowing when it’ll be? That doesn’t sound like you, Ree.”

“Thanks for being depressing, Skye,” I try to say with a laugh, but it doesn’t go over well, because I can’t find one. No, if there was anybody else in the world who could read me like a book, it’s my first grade best friend. “No, I’m not really happy about waiting, but I’m excited about this baby, and what is being married besides vowing to date each other forever? No, it actually is okay. We’ll figure it out. Maybe we’ll randomly go to the courthouse one day- don’t worry, you’ll be invited, if we do. Or just wait and make it grand- you know, once I lose the baby weight or something.” I sip from my peppermint tea with a hand on my bump, knowing that I couldn’t be happier, but still wondering how we’re going to do all of this.

“Don’t be so sad, Ree, my god!” she exclaims with a playful swat to my shoulder. I laugh along with her, but as I stare into my tea, it doesn’t remain for long. She’d hit a nerve and with a cautious glance her way, I can tell that she knows it. “How’s about the house? The six bedroom and three bath with a grand yard, covered porch, marble kitchen island, fireplace, walk in closet, and dare I say, a pool?” she blabbers on in a posh sounding voice, making me laugh this time.

“Good, it’s um, good. I dunno what else to say, Harry’s the one who talks to the contractors and all,” I offer with an outstretched hand, unsure of my words.

“Come on, Ree, you’re building a bloody house!” her boisterous laugh comes. Her eagerness shows, as well as the three glasses of wine she had with dinner. I’m not sure the one cup of black coffee is going to help her much.

“I know, but I dunno- I more so just go over the plans with Harry and approve them, I guess?” I say with a large shrug of my shoulders. “There’s not much to update you on since you last asked about it. It’s a house, they take forever to build. I won’t get to have much fun with it until it comes to like, picking wallpaper and tiling.”

“Well, will it be ready by the time the baby comes?”

“I doubt it, but Harry keeps insisting it will,” I muse aloud, watching the ripples in the brown liquid when I blow on it, feeling the steam grace my cheeks. “It’s fine if it isn’t.”

“Your response to everything is ‘it’s fine,’ since when are you like that?”

Pressing my lips together, I lift my head to meet her curious stare, a tired one after that wine, “I’m just going with the flow, Skye. I’ve found it’s better than being upset about plans being changed. I wanted to get married, then build a house, and then have a baby. But it’s okay, we get to do the baby part first. It’s like dessert before dinner, and I can do that. It’ll be fun,” I tell her, feeling the truth in them as well as the grimy half-lie.

Should I tell her or will she brush it off, as if it’s nothing? It wasn’t nothing to me though, that dream this morning, it’s bothered me all day. I’m not sure how much longer I can go without telling somebody about it, but it scares me to have to recount it, and being afraid they’ll tell me it means nothing. Because that’s the last thing it meant to me, and something inside of me keeps telling me that I shouldn’t just forget about it.

“If you insist,” she sighs, clucking her tongue. “Are you two still meeting Asher and I tomorrow night?”

“Y-Yeah,” I answer shakily, too deep in my thoughts to notice the way the tea burns my lips. What if I can’t figure out what that dream meant, will it be okay?

A cacophony of sounds pelted my ears the second we walked in the door. Apparently we weren’t the only ones with the good idea of trying the new pizza and arcade place on a Friday night.

“Well, this place ‘s neat, innit?” Harry comments as we approach a table tucked into the corner, between skeeball and some flappy bird looking game.

“Yeah, it looks great. Loads of games,” Asher comments when we pull out chairs to sit across from them. “No, don’t sit down. We just ordered the pizzas, but they may take a little while. Let’s go and get started on the games. I saw Pacman and a Supermario game when we came in,” he continues emphatically, already getting up from his seat. Skye laughs beside him, joiningAsher as I let go of the chair.

We pass parents and children, teenage couples, and a few others like us on our way to the front. There, we find the machine that’s replaced the coin contraption back from our day. No, you no longer had to feed coins into each game and have paper tickets spit out at you.

“’s kind o’ sad, dontchu think? ’s all digital now. Ya don’t have tha fun anymo’ o’ counting tha tickets and yer coins,” Harry muses while sliding a card from his wallet.

“It’s easier to keep track of.”

“I suppose, but that’s no fun. It made me day findin’ a lost coin or line o’ tickets on the ground,” he hums with a shake of his head, pressing buttons on the touch screen. “How much should we do, you think?”

“I dunno,” I answer, forgetting the screen showing different dollar amounts and a description of how some games cost more than others. Instead, my attention is pulled to behind me. I’d seen her on our way in, but now, I look again at the mum sitting in the corner feeding her young baby, watching on as the dad holds up their son to shoot basketballs.

“Hey, ’m talking t’ you,” somebody says, nudging my shoulder with theirs. Turning back around, I find Harry’s green eyes waiting for me with furrowed brows. “Right now, we’re kids again with their friends, playin’ arcade games on a Friday night and stuffin’ themselves with pizza. We still have a ways t’ go on that, five and a half months actually,” he notes softly, nodding his head towards the mum.

“Yeah,” I murmur sheepishly, crossing my arms and looking back at the screen.

“I didn’t mean it rudely, Becks.”

“I know. A tenner should be fine, let’s just do that. We can always load more money onto it,” I insist, lifting my feet and clicking them together, like I’m Dorothy and wanting to go back home. Because, well, I do. It’s loud and my stomach hurts, I’m not sure from hunger or nausea, or both.

I’d been excited when we’d agreed to come here with Skye and Asher earlier this week, but no matter how much I tried to push it away, that stupid dream couldn’t be forgotten. Especially since I had it again last night, and I dreaded going to sleep tonight, in fear I’d see that mysterious little girl and that empty crib where our baby should be. It-

“Becks?”

“Wh-What?” I stammer, looking up quickly to find Harry waving a plastic card at me.

“We’re all set,” he announces, stepping to the side so Asher and Skye can buy theirs next. I follow him, moving out of the way for a little boy and his big brother to come through, rushing to the bathroom behind us. “You okay? Not feelin’ sick or anythin’, are you?”

I think about shaking my head, but when I look back into his eyes, I get The Look. The Harry Styles Look. The Look of all Looks. No, it wasn’t the killer stare I’d first familiarized him with when I sat at that desk at the end of his hall. This one came not soon after though, and it’d stuck. Ever since then he could read all of my tells, including how uncomfortable I am right now, or maybe just how I’m overthinking. He knew that look too.

“I’m probably just hungry.”

The curl hanging over his forehead is knocked loose when his head bobs up and down, but I reach a hand up to set it back in place.

“Don’t worry, we’ll get some pizza in that belly soon. I know how you’ve been craving it,” his dimples once again hide under his beard, one that had been growing thicker as the winter carried on. I feel its length when his lips sponge a kiss to my temple, his hand caressing my bump only a few seconds later.

“Thanks.”

After a few games, I found myself getting into it more and laughing at Harry’s competitiveness. I’d learned a long time ago that laughing about it was better than getting mad about it, and also that going to play games with Skye turned out better, watching the boys play from the sidelines.

“You doing okay, Boops? Tummy not good or are you tired?” the question came as I watched the little screen rack up my tickets from a Scooby Doo version of Whack a Mole. Instead of a red button marked with ‘25 cents’ a touchscreen with a card swipe sat there.

“Both, but what’s new?” I murmur, following her past Ring Toss, some car racing game that doesn’t give you tickets, and Space Invaders. At last, we found Air Hockey open and decided to have a go.

“So, what is it really?”

“What’s what?” I replied with an air of faux stupidity, pretending to focus hard on hitting the puck back her way.

“Why have you been acting weird lately? Just because I had some wine last night doesn’t mean I didn’t notice it.”

“Oh, that. You noticed,” I comment, avoiding her eyes even when she gets the puck past me. Bending over, I pluck it from the holder and hit it over to her, following it.

“Yeah, I noticed that. Whatever it is, which by the way, what is it again that’s bothering you?”

“You don’t sound very smart when you’re drinking. You do know that, don’t you?” a laugh is close to my lips, but it disappears almost as soon as it’s thought. As if to spite me, she picks up the glass of the pink hard cider she’d ordered. Sometimes, I missed drinking and how it made nights like these all the more fun.

“Thanks for pointing out the obvious,” she sighs, tsking when I make the puck into her goal. Groaning, she slams the rest of the cider before dropping the puck onto the glow in the dark table. “But really, what is it?”

“God, are you and Harry stubborn,” I remark with a near groan, taking her cue when she hits it hard my way, deciding to do the same. “Fine . . so I had this dream the other night, like a nightmare almost and . . . ,” I carry on, detailing the entire thing to her, almost hoping that maybe if she says it’s nothing, her inebriated mind won’t remember it.

“Good game, glad you could get some rage out on that one, seeing as how you nearly gave me a bruise that one time.”

“Sorry,” the word drops carelessly as we walk away from the table and through a loud pack of kids. She makes a comment about never wanting kids, only to turn to me regretfully with the same word on her face. “It’s okay. I’m probably worrying for nothing.”

“I know you and don’t want to say that myself, but it was just a dream, Ree. Aren’t they like, manifestations of your thoughts and all that jazz? Maybe you saw the little girl once or see yourself in her, and want to protect her. It’s the mother in you coming out, I’m sure. I wouldn’t worry too much about it and what it means, it’s just a dream.”

“Yeah, it’s just a dream,” I agree aloud, more grateful than ever for Harry and Asher stepping in our path, telling us the pizzas had arrived. Sitting down beside Harry and arguing with him about Hawaiian pizza whilst our hands sat on the other’s thigh, this had once been a dream to me too.

But the one about the empty crib and the mysterious girl, no that was almost a nightmare, and I’d had enough of those.

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles au #boss!harry #lawyer!harry #attorney!harry #ceo!harry #lawyer romance #office romance #hecky #becks holte #harry x becky #one direction fanfiction #alternate universe #fanfiction #writing #fic #wattpad #vanchlo writes

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andiwanderer · 4 years

Text

New Kid

Tony Stark x daughter!Reader

Overview: Frustrated by how Tony was treating the new kid, you felt like an outcast. After the outburst of your father, you finally told him your decision. Because no matter how hard you try to gain his attention, his sole focus was directed to this new kid, named Peter. Maybe parting ways from your father can finally make him notice you. a/n: i'm sorry for the poor written summary! please bear with me! XD

Warnings: Angst, Language, Fluff

MASTERLIST

a/n: my first fanfic post, please, pleeeassseee! bear with me✨

"Parker!"

"Hey Parker, look at this."

"That kid is doing his job. I commend that. And also he's my intern, so get yours."

"He said his name was quote on quote "Spiderman". You got that, Rhodey?"

"D'you think? You know you have a potential Pete,"

"That spiderling?"

"Peter, just contact Happy on that one, I'm on my way."

"Mr. Parker, the Avengers just wanted your safety. Courtesy of me, of course."

"Mr. Parker, Mr. Stark ask your presence in his office."

Y/N had enough. It was like 4 in the morning and she hasn't got her proper sleep. She reached for her pillow and pushed it to cover her entire face along with her ear. Now, silently hoping she can finally sleep.

She really had enough not just because of exhaustion. But because of the 'New Kid' from Queens, Peter Parker.

She can't have a full day without hearing that kid's name uttered by her father, Tony.

Not that she was jealous of him but she's getting there. She used to be her father's apple of the eye. She used to have that same praises and care from Stark, then this Sokovia Accords began to ruin it.

Y/N knew what's right from wrong, Tony taught her that. And being controlled by the government, it was as though not having the freedom to have your own insights expressed. You can't do that because you're their personal puppet, the only thing that is right for them is their own judgment.

So she joined the Captain's team and learned the knowledge that Barnes wasn't a killer and he was controlled by HYDRA, the organization that they've been chasing, and it was not him who killed the T'challa's father, T'chaka. He was framed.

The encounter in Germany happened, there entered the new mighty intern of Stark, Peter Benjamin Parker also known as Spiderman.

They seemed pretty close for her liking and from that moment on she knew something is about to change.

They went back to the compound after what happened, finally having a truce. Understanding each side, well a majority of them, but there are two certain people who are still not on speaking terms.

Here's the thing, Y/N, and Tony fought regarding the accords before parting ways. And both of them seemed to heightened their pride and refuse to apologize to each other. They still think that their own opinion is better than the other.

Living in one compound doesn't help, it's difficult to not cross paths when wandering around. The only advantage of this was finally they're having small talks.

"Mr. Stark, I just went to grab my bag."

"You go ahead on the lab, I'll just..." Tony's voice trailed off as they walk towards their destination.

Y/N's eyes peeled open. Why can I still hear their voices in my sleep?

She knows drowsiness already left her and this will take a toll on her later on.

Now that she's awake, might as well start her day. With that, she sat up and stretched her arms out with a yawn. Grabbed her phone and hoodie before making her way into the kitchen.

When she got there the lights turned on, it was motion-sensored. "Good morning, Ms. Stark."

"What's good in the morning," she murmured as she open the cupboard and reaches what she needed. "The sun hasn't even peaked yet."

"Woke up on the wrong side of the bed, miss?"

"More like woke by an annoying voice."

"I apologize for that, it seemed that I was the one who is guilty-"

"Geez FRIDAY, I was only kidding. Can't take a joke?"

"Your voice was monotone, it was hard to tell."

"Not a morning person..." she sat on one of the stools and continued stirring her cup of milk as she entertained herself by scrolling onto her phone.

"You're up too early." Bucky's voice filled the room slightly startling the lone girl in the kitchen. He removed himself from leaning against the frame of the doorway. Making his way to Y/N, he sat beside her.

Glancing up from her phone she met his gaze, "I could ask you the same question."

"Don't smart ass me, doll." he gave her a stern look. "I got back from the bathroom and you weren't on the bed."

That made Y/N's voice back down and instantly felt guilty. It's dawn and she's giving her man an early headache to nurse for the entire day.

So she wrapped her arm around his waist, hugging him, nuzzling her face on his chest. She felt him responding to the embrace, hugging her fragile body against him tighter.

"I'm sorry..." she mumbled through his chest.

He kissed the crown of her head while caressing the back of her head, "I'm sorry too. I was just worried... I thought you were gone."

"That won't happen. I'm a pain in your ass remember, it's not easy to get rid of me." she chuckled, taking in his warmth.

"Is there a problem? Did you have a nightmare, Hmm? You can tell me everything, I'll listen."

Bucky knew about her struggle seeing the two, namely the man of iron and the kid with the sticky web, having a bond like father and son. Every day he sees the look in her eyes, that hostile look that she gives the kid. If staring is deadly, Peter would've been cold meat. So this topic isn't new to him. And every day it reaches a different level.

"Not really..." she pulled herself from the hug, grab his hand into hers, and intertwined them. "Is it I or Peter and my father are so close right now, even mom can't break the two apart. If I didn't know them I might've assumed they're connected by blood."

"In my perspective, I don't really pay much attention to anyone except you."

His statement brought a smile to her face. "You're crazy."

Bucky leaned in until his lips are ghosting into hers, "Only crazy for you." leaving a peck on Y/N's slightly parted lips that made her cheeks burn. She lightly shook her head on his lame comebacks and partly to somehow ease her flustered face.

"But seriously, Buck. I-" she inhaled and exhaled a deep breath. Her next words came out as a whisper, "I'm jealous...I'll admit. I am now..." she finished her drink and went to the sink washing the things she used, Bucky still eyeing her waiting for her next words. "There's not much to tell, Peter was the son he never had. He was always enthusiastic about it when he talks to mom," pertaining to Pepper "I can't blame him..." when she was done, she turned, her hips leaning against the sink. "I don't want to think about it but I don't know, Buck. Sometimes I just want to d-"

"Disappear, disperse, die?" her head whipped to where the voice came from. Tony walked into the room, screwdriver in hand.

He was headed to his workspace when he heard her daughter talking, her voice was serious so he got curious and got sidetracked.

Tony's eyes shift from Y/N to Bucky, confusion was etched on his face. He can't read either of their expression so he made his own conclusion. "You're thinking about killing yourself?"

Y/N's eyes widened in shock at his statement. I was going to say disappear. Which also has the same meaning by the way. She was about to interject when Tony immediately cut her off, not wanting her to say anything. "Is that it?" He arched a brow at her, he was starting to get pissed. "Aren't you even grateful you're alive? Many people die every single day. It wasn't their choice, hell they'll do anything they can to be alive. And here you are having the opportunity to live thinking how to end your life? Why did that thing even cross your mind."

Bucky sensed Y/N's tense composure as her hand began to fidget her shirt in habit when she's nervous or scared, Bucky noticed it but Tony didn't, so he got between the two. "Tony..."

"Shut your mouth, metal man. We're in a conversation as you can see. Can you please-" the guy waved his hand dismissively, gesturing him to vanish, then turned to Y/N.

He pointed the screwdriver at her, "What happened to your smart mouth, young lady, did that also died?" firmness laced his voice, she can't even decipher if that man was still the father she grew up to. It was like this moment, he became a cold jerk father to her.

Not wanting to deal with his shit, she grabbed her phone at the counter, and without saying anything she walked out.

How did he even think I want to die? I had only said 'D-'! How that does make any sense. I can say dance or whatever d-verb I can apply to my sentence!

Almost stumble to the new arrival, Peter Parker. She scoffed and rolled her eyes at him before making a beeline to her room.

As to Bucky, he just stared at Stark who shook his head as he brought his free hand up to massage his temple.

Peter shot a question, "Mr. Stark, Mr. Barnes, what just happened?"

It was Barnes' turn to shake his head with amusement because of the two. Before Tony could utter a word, Bucky left and followed Y/N to her room.

***

"What the hell was that?" he angrily spat at Y/N as he left his suit.

"Tony-"

"Rogers this is between us so get lost."

Steve looked in Y/N's direction whose eyes were glued on the floor. He wants to get between them because there has been a misunderstanding and Tony had been declining to listen to the captain ever since the time they finished the mission. Turning off his earpiece and blasting off defeating them on getting to the compound first. He didn't want to be rude, Tony was right and he didn't want to meddle with them, afraid that he might get the topic even worse. But if anything goes wrong he'll step in no matter what. So he ushered the team to leave and go to the med bay to have their wounds treated.

"That doesn't mean it excludes you, Barnes."

That made Y/N lift her gaze, meeting his steel-blue eyes that were full of concern and love. She gently nodded at him, giving him the idea that she can handle it and Bucky did what she silently asked.

Tony paced around the room. "You are well aware of what you just did, correct? And you know that it was gonna put you in danger!"

I was just trying to save you. She wanted to say those words to him but witnessing how riled up he is right now, made her heart race. Yes, she's afraid of him whenever he's angry that's why she never gave him a reason to be angry at her. The first was with the accords, and the list might continue because of this.

"What were you even thinking! It doesn't mean that now you're a shield agent, you should put yourself on death's door! Or just because you're fulfilling your task of getting yourself killed. You're taking every mission as an opportunity!"

It's not like that... Tears are now falling freely on her face.

"I will talk to Fury about this. And Y/N," his eyes were cold when she gained the courage to look at him, "you're out of the team. Sooner or later SHEILD will kick you out too. Believe it or not, this is for your own good."

She stared at him in disbelief. This was her entire life, he can't take that away from her, for the first time she had the urge to argue but her father cut her before she can speak.

"If only you're as obedient as Parker this wouldn't happen."

That made her heartbreak into many pieces. It was like hearing her own father saying that if only Peter was his son.

Y/N eyes were now red and puffy. Cheeks and nose flustered because of her crying. The tears are making their way down her cheeks uncontrollably and seemed that it's not stopping any time soon. Biting her lips to stop the whimper from being heard. She averted her gaze to the ceiling to somehow stop the flow of her tears.

That's why she didn't see the reaction of her father upon seeing her in her state at the moment. Guilt was already eating him.

Assuming that their conversation was over, she turned her heel and took her to leave with low shoulders. Even though she wanted to be angry at him because of his statement, she can't. Tony Stark raised her well and disrespecting isn't one of those.

"I--" suddenly his voice died. Was really apologizing for that hard?--

"I'm leaving..." She said with a tiny voice.

What?

Y/N swallowed the lump on her throat before saying, "I'm going to fix my things, maybe I should give you some space. I don't like s-seeing you angry. I will join Bucky on their trip to Wakanda. This might give you some peace of mind. And don't worry, I won't kill myself, I'll let a natural death fall on me."

She waited for him to respond or anything but when he didn't she ran towards her room with only one thing in mind, He didn't even try to stop me.

Bruce who was headed to the med bay heard a little of their conversation--he didn't mean to eavesdrop--he approached Tony. "Was that really necessary?"

Tony who felt guilty answered, "She was having suicidal thoughts, what was I supposed to do!"

"Understand her! What the hell, Stark! You only made it worse!"

***

"What the--what are you doing here?" Y/N eyes widen when he saw her father who has the same expression as hers, and a red floating cape behind him.

"I'm the one who should ask you that, missy." he frowns at her. "It's dangerous here! How did you ev--you should've stayed at your house. You could have get yourself in danger!--you know what screw this--" Tony snarls at her clearly he cared for her well-being, however, Y/N didn't acknowledge it instead took it negatively.

"I can handle myself just fine, Stark." she rolled her eyes at him.

"Oh, so it's Stark now. I didn't teach you how to disrespect, young-"

That's when Peter came swinging in and landed beside Tony. Y/N's eyes narrowed at their suit, how can she not recognize it. It's nanotech just like hers, and it was originally her idea by the way. Formulated when she was 12 years old, being fascinated by technology and all that stuff.

She felt insecure because of Peter... She was the daughter she didn't even know if creating a suit like that for her crossed her father's mind. She made her own damn suit, okay.

"I thought you were a spiderman, so why do you always follow him like a good little soldier? What are you a cat who's having fun and chasing his tail?"

"Y/N, mouth."

Peter became tense but quickly composed himself, ignoring Y/N's sarcastic statement, "Miss Y/N, I want to apologize-"

"Apologize? For what?"

Tony is sure, she can be stubborn as him. She's his daughter after all.

When the kid didn't reply she huffs, "See you don't even know what you're apologizing for. So if I were you just step back, I'm had to get Dr. Strange from that two-foot Squidward."

Squidward, huh. He can't help but remember what he had called the alien-like antagonist that they had been chasing. Turns out they gave him the same nickname. That's my daughter.

"Wait, you know his name?" Tony questioned, pertaining to the magician.

"Long story, years passed, things changed, many things happen but--whatever."

"We have a plan actually..." peter said meekly, completely intimidated by Y/N. He thought that Stark's definition of her was all too good to be true, cause he can prove it's all the opposite but maybe he just met her at the wrong place at the wrong time.

"Oh yeah?" she arched a brow at them as she cocked her head at the side. "What is it?"

***

"I want to protect the stone."

"And I want you to thank me, now. Go ahead I'm listening."

"For what? Nearly blasting me to space?"

"Who just saved your magical ass?--Me."

"I seriously don't know how you fit your head into that helmet." Y/N bit her lower lip to prevent her chuckle from erupting. Cause Strange said was so true.

"-flying donut, billions and miles from Earth with no backup."

"I'm back up." Peter raised his hand.

"No, you're still away. The adults are talking"

"I'm sorry, I-I'm confused about the relationship here. What is he your ward?"

"No-"

"Stark's son," Y/N interject. She's bitter alright.

Strange lift his gaze from where she was sitting on the ceiling. Looking confused, "Your looks don't resemble."

"Exactly! cause I don't have a brother and I am nobody's daughter." her feet swaying back and forth as she answers and it echoes all around the ship.

"Please don't mind her that's not true. I'm Peter by the way."

"Dr. Strange."

"Oh you're using made-up names, I'm Spiderman then."

"Y/N can you please go down, you might get yourself hurt up there." Tony pleads.

"You said you two can handle it. I'll just stay here thank you for the concern, but no thank you."

She watches them on her spot, not really paying attention to what they're saying but she senses Strange and Stark's topic was serious.

Y/N was acting like a slightly drunk lady, that's what the others' observations were, but she wasn't. She's just sleepy and she acts cranky when she does. And she's missing her guy who at the moment might be pissed at her because of her sudden disappearance. Oh, Bucky... I could use a hug...

After their conversation, Tony approached Peter, and like what the highest person does to proclaim a knight, he does it with Peter along with the lines of 'You're an Avenger now.'

Letting the guy recover from his shock she calls him, the kid met her gaze. "I hold no grudge, really."

Parker was having second thoughts on her statement either it was a half-hearted claim or not, regardless he answered. "Thanks." giving her a shy smile and Y/N returning a tight-lipped smile.

***

"Mr. Stark, I don't want to go.. I don't want to."

Y/N stared at them as she sit on the ground, tired and weary. She doesn't need to ask them what it felt to disappear, she herself can feel it inside of her. That weird feeling seemed hard to explain.

Witnessing this moment in front of her shattered the little part of her heart left. That should be her in his father's arms, that should be her having that last moment with him before she disappear-but no. It's always Peter.

At that moment she felt numb, as a lone tear made its way down her cheek. She never thought that she'll welcome death open arms. Y/N is done, she knew that.

"Sorry..." was the last word Peter uttered before he turned into dust.

Good riddance.

The older Stark can't still register what happened so when he turned his head, his eyes looking for a certain someone. He was filled with dread when he didn't found her.

"Y/N?"

"He did it." Nebula stated pertaining to Thanos that his plan on wiping half of the planet has begun.

Now that it was all sinking into him, he can't help but blame himself for not doing his job in stopping that grape titan, and maybe if he wasn't an asshole enough to his daughter, maybe he still has her in his arms like when she was still a baby. He was a complete dick towards her. It was all coming back to him, all the times they had been together.

It broke his heart when he watched her ran to her room that day. He can't speak because his pride was fighting off his conscience. He didn't want to see her cry, and the idea that it was his fault for making her leave dreaded him. He tried to follow her to Wakanda but he was afraid she might ignore her, afraid of the instances that might happen if he does one wrong move. Bucky, Steve, Sam, and Natasha were his only contact on asking how Y/N has been and their answers were always the same.

Peter and Y/N were almost alike, maybe that's the reason why in doing so his relationship with her drifted.

If only he'd stopped Y/N from leaving maybe this wouldn't have happened. If only he didn't sign the accords maybe things didn't change the way they were...

If only...

a/n: i'm really sorry for the crappy plot..

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caszino-blog · 5 years

Text

hostage

words: 3816

inspired by billie eilish - hostage

read it on ffn

i wanna be alone

alone with you, does that make sense?

i wanna steal your soul

and hide you in my treasure chest

Draco doesn't know what he's doing when he sits down next to a distraught Hermione Granger, her painful sobs echoing through the hallway and tugging at his heart. She's surrounded by a pile of canary-yellow feathers and Draco only has a moment to wonder why, before she whips around to look at him.

It's always so fascinating to watch Granger process situations. It's like he can hear the wheels turning in her brain and the thousand different expressions that cross her face are more attractive than Draco cares to admit. She always thinks before she acts—unlike the other two idiots who tag along with her. Sometimes, he wonders how Granger didn't end up in Ravenclaw, but then he remembers her penchant for plunging headfirst into dangerous situations and her weird need to help the downtrodden, and he doesn't doubt the Sorting Hat's decision at all.

A few minutes pass in silence before she speaks. "What are you doing here?" Her voice quavers a bit and he can tell that she's trying to sound strong. It isn't working, but Draco does not comment about it.

He shrugs because he actually doesn't know what he's doing there. He was heading back to the dungeons after an unsuccessful attempt to fix the cabinet and he'd taken a winding route downstairs, not particularly eager to face Pansy and her simpering attentions. He needed time, to clear his head of the bitter resentment and anger which had defined the past few months of his life.

He was ambling down the hidden staircase near the Gryffindor tower when he'd heard her crying. His feet dragged him to her and something about the way she sat, defeated and broken, had convinced him to sit next to her, against his better judgement.

"Spit it out, Malfoy. I know you're dying to make a comment about the poor little Mudblood," She says venomously and Draco flinches at the way she calls herself a Mudblood—the fact that she thinks that he considers her a Mudblood.

Don't you, though? A voice asks in his head and he pushes it away.

"Not really, Granger. I'm far too tired to come up with anything remotely insulting right now." Besides, I don't want to see you cry because of me.

"Huh, that's a first," she snorts and Draco silently agrees, wondering what's wrong with him. The last time he remembers interacting with her, he'd taunted her mercilessly. Why should it be any different now?

They sit, side by side, studying the night sky from the arched windows. The silence is not stifling or dreadful, like the chill of Malfoy Manor. It's almost comforting. It's like fragile glass and Draco feels like anything he says will shatter it.

Granger, of course, feels the need to talk. "You're disappearing every night, apparently. Harry noticed you know. He's convinced you're up to… something, I guess. Merlin, he's almost obsessed with you at this point," she rolls her eyes and he suppresses a snicker. "Where do you go?"

"Wouldn't you like to know, Granger," Draco smirks and she huffs. Then, abruptly, "Why were you crying?"

She glares at him and he cocks an eyebrow. "You can't expect me to answer your questions when you don't answer mine." Her voice is snooty and he's reminded of the self-righteous eleven-year-old she was and how her demeanour used to annoy him.

They lapse into silence again, both of them unwilling to cross the impasse they've reached. It's almost childish, really, but Draco will not give her the satisfaction of being answered.

Finally, after what seems like hours, Granger sighs and pushes an unruly curl away from her eyes. "Ron. He… he snogged Lavender Brown in the common room today. Everyone was watching. And pitying me, I'm sure." She sniffles a bit, and a frisson of panic shoots through him—what is he supposed to do if she cries again? "It's just… I always thought we'd end up together, you know? I do everything for him—hell, I Confunded bloody McLaggen so that he could be on the team… and he doesn't see me, waiting for him. He never sees me." Her voice is watery and he knows she's trying hard to keep it together. Draco wants to reach a hand out to her but no, he can't because they're different, they're supposed to be on opposite sides and touching her will only start a shitstorm Draco does not want to be a part of.

Draco sneers a bit and says, "Personally, I don't really know what you see in Weasel. He has so little to brag about himself that he goes around blustering about Potter's achievements—pathetic, really. I'm shocked that you think he's worth crying over. But then again, you did have a fucked up sense of pity." His words are not really a comfort, he knows, but it's not poison, either.

She snorts and repeats fucked up sense of pity, shaking her head. He smirks a little, watching her as she carefully runs her hands over the denim of her pants as if she's contemplating something.

Her eyes are deep pools of brown as she looks at him and asks, " D-did you take the Mark from him? Are you a Death Eater?"

Her words trickle down his back like a drop of cold water and Draco stiffens. He stands up and snarls, like a cornered animal, "N-no! Where did you get that idea? Potter? You can tell him to mind his own fucking business." He immediately regrets his words, knowing that his defensive tone will confirm Granger's suspicions.

"You are, aren't you?" Her voice is coloured with horror and he wants to look away as her face morphs to pity, but he can't. "Malfoy…"

"Don't, Granger… just…" his voice breaks and he clenches his fists. He carefully schools his features into a familiar mask of disdain and says, "Don't make assumptions about something you have no idea about, Mudblood. Don't assume anything about me."

And with that he stalks down the stairs towards the dungeons, feeling oddly lonely as his hands shake and the tears threaten to blur his vision.

i don't know what to do

do with your kiss on my neck

i don't know what feels true

but this feels right, so stay a sec

you feel right, so stay a sec

She drops her bag across from him, and he barely looks up from his book on Vanishing principles as she huffs. Her curly hair is wilder than usual and her eyes are burning with fury as she slams her potions book down on the table. Realisation hits Draco and suddenly, he knows why she's all worked up.

"Still peeved about Potter's little bezoar stunt?" He questions, a slight smirk on his face. He looks up from the book—he's so fucking done, trying to fix that cabinet—and his smirk widens as he looks at her slight frown transform into a full scowl.

Teasing her feels familiar now. He knows exactly how to push her buttons without going too far and she's too gullible to his taunts which makes it all the more enjoyable.

He wonders when it became familiar, when she became familiar. That one night on the stairs went on to become a chance encounter in the library, to an unspoken agreement to meet every day in the little Astronomy corner, full of old leather-bound books. It became their little haven of escape—from the reality of his task and the horrors of his nightmares, from her heartbreak and constant worrying.

He wonders how she can stand him, knowing that he's a monster and he asked her about it, one day, in a moment of absolute self-loathing. She simply replied that she doesn't want to make the mistake of judging him for what he has been forced to become and bile rose in his throat because he knew he didn't deserve her kindness.

"I don't understand how he does it! I mean, it's a stupid book—how can it be right all the fucking time? I spent so much time on that antidote and he just shows that stupid little goat stone and Slughorn's all over him! I-it's not fucking fair," she seethes. Draco raises an eyebrow at her words—he's never heard her swear.

"Now you know how I feel," Draco says, shrugging. Hermione looks up, comprehension dawning on her face. He knows she understands—Potter's had it all so easy. He's broken more school rules than all of the Slytherins combined and he's still favoured over everyone else. He should've died, several times over, but he always made it out unscathed.

It must be nice, he thinks bitterly, to be lucky.

"Yeah, well," she sighs. "I need to find a way to get him away from that book before he learns something much worse than the uses of a bezoar from that horrid book. I-it has dark spells, Malfoy. Horrible curses—I've seen it. I don't want him to get into trouble—he has so much on his plate already."

Draco almost snorts at that. So much on his plate, his arse. Like avoiding Slughorn's fawning and getting cosy in the Headmaster's office every other day is so taxing. How about plotting the murder of said Headmaster when your mother's life is at stake?

He is snapped out of his thoughts by Hermione pulling his book from his hands. He holds his book firmly, not willing to let her see it, to allow her an opportunity to ask questions he certainly does not want to answer. "What are you reading?" She asks curiously and he's about to make up an excuse for why he's reading about Vanishing, of all things, when his left arm starts burning with the intensity of an inferno.

He bends over in agony, clutching his arm and he can vaguely hear Hermione's voice asking him if everything is alright. The pain is decapacitating, terrifying. The Mark burns his nerves and he feels like tearing it off his skin—he just wants out, to escape from the pain and guilt, to escape his dreadful task. But there is no going back. There is no going back from the Dark Lord's ranks or he will suffer a fate worse than death.

His mother will suffer a fate worse than death. And she does not deserve it.

That is the only thing keeping him from running away.

He will fight. If only to keep Narcissa Malfoy safe, he will fight.

He feels cold fingers pushing up his sleeve and he protests weakly, scrambling to keep his jumper in place. She does not listen to him and the dark ink of the serpent and skull burns more as she touches it. He hisses and she recoils, hesitantly cradling his arm.

"What have they done to you, Draco?" She whispers and suddenly it's all too much.

He does not deserve her strength, her compassion, but he basks in it. He cannot be redeemed, he knows that much. But the warmth of her eyes as she looks at him, the single tear on her cheek for his pain makes him believe that he can be forgiven and he gives in to his overwhelming urge to lean in and kiss her.

The pain fades as she gasps and responds to him, her soft lips matching the fervour of his own. His thumb grazes her left cheek, wiping the tear away and her hands slip through his hair and the world narrows down to her and there's nothing left of him but her. He cannot string together a coherent thought as the scent of cinnamon and smoke fills his nose and his fingers get entangled in the labyrinth of her hair. She pulls him closer until there's no space between them and Draco thinks that he can forget everything right there in her arms.

He regains his sanity a moment later, when she pulls away to rest her forehead against his, a defeated sigh escaping her swollen lips—like she is accepting the fact that there is no going back from… this, whatever it is. Draco knows the feeling.

She buries her face in the crook of his neck, pressing a warm kiss to his skin as his hands gently trail down her back. He feels like crying again, for her, for them, for whatever they've gotten themselves into now, because it can only end in tragedy.

He does not know what to do.

But everything in the world feels right again, with her warm body curled up in his arms, his back against the stone wall of the library and so, Draco stays.

gold on your fingertips

fingertips against my cheek

gold leaf across your lips

kiss me until i can't speak

His back slams against the door of the Room of Requirement and Draco growls, kissing Hermione with bruising passion as she pulls him towards the couch in the middle of the room. Their hands are desperate, pulling robes off shoulders and unbuttoning shirts. He knows he doesn't have much time left with her, that being with her after these stolen moments is almost impossible. She must know too, because her hands possess the same urgency as his own.

They fall into a graceless pile on the couch and Draco shivers as Hermione presses her perpetually cold fingers to his cheek, tracing a path to his newly acquired scar, courtesy of Potter himself. He runs his fingers over her curves, watching as her eyes flutter with pleasure and her lips part. He feels a sense of affection bubble within his chest and wonders whether he should voice his feelings. Whether she'll reciprocate his words or throw them away with disdain.

"I knew I should've taken that book away from him," she mumbles, her eyes on the angry red surrounding the pale white of the scarred flesh and Draco kisses her softly, trying to tell her it isn't her fault—she is blameless for everything that's happened, even if she insists otherwise. "Look at what he did to you. I-I'm sorry."

"Not your fault," Draco whispers, twining a curl of her dark hair in his pale fingers. Sometimes, he's fascinated by the poetry of it all—they are complete opposites in every way. Hermione is a painting of rich colour, deep brown and olive tones against gold and red, while he is a pale sketch of silvers and greys and greens. She is everything good and pure while he's stuck in the greys, unable to escape the clutches of the dark.

"No, Draco—" she begins, but Draco pulls her closer. He bites her lower lip, muttering, "Shut up and kiss me."

And she does.

When they return from their high, his fingers map a constellation between the freckles on her collarbone and he says, "I just want you to know that I'm… sorry. For everything. I was terrible to you and I understand if you don't forgive me—" he holds up a hand when she begins to speak. He has to get this out. He needs to get this out. "—But I was acting on years of prejudice and unreasonable hatred that my father had taught me, but I was wrong. Merlin, I was so wrong—everything's so fucked up. And… and I feel so sorry that I made you cry, that day I called you a… a Mudblood." She kisses him and he sighs, "I wish things were different but I hope you know that I won't… I haven't thought of you—"

"I know, Draco. Trust me, I do. And I forgive you." She wraps her arms around him and he relaxes. "You deserve forgiveness. You're not evil, Draco—I know you think that. You're not. You're good and brave and I love you." Her last words are a whisper and she stiffens.

But Draco does not let her dwell on her insecurity, as he embraces her tightly, whispering that he loves her over and over again. She forgave him. She loves him.

And perhaps, she will save him, too.

gold's fake and real love hurts

and nothing hurts when i'm alone

when you're with me and we're alone

The last time he sees her is before he goes to the Room of Requirement to open the Vanishing Cabinet for Bellatrix and the other Death Eaters. His hands shake and his heart thunders, but as he approaches her in their little library corner, he feels at peace.

Her eyes are sad, understanding and he sometimes hates how compassionate she can be. If she wasn't, then perhaps he wouldn't be so in love with her that he can't bear the thought of leaving her after tonight.

But he knows, in his heart, that he would not have it any other way.

"Don't cry, my love," he says, quietly, brushing a few tears with the tips of his fingers. He hates seeing her cry—perhaps it's because the first time he saw her cry was when he was the cause.

She laughs a little, rubbing her tears away furiously. "You've never called me that before, you know. I kind of like it."

He smiles a little, holding her hand. "If we both make it out of this war alive… I'll call you my love, every minute of every day." If you even want me around, that is.

They haven't discussed the future, mostly because it's so uncertain and painful, and Draco curses himself for blurting out those words. He's almost about to apologise, but her smile suddenly brightens as she says, "I'll hold you to that, you know."

He smirks at her, stealing a kiss from her lips. "I know."

And then, he kisses her for the last time, buries his nose in her cinnamon-scented hair and walks away without a second glance, his hands clenched into white-knuckled fists as her quiet sobs reach his ears.

it's not like me to be so mean

you're all i wanted

just let me hold you

hold you, like a hostage

When she finally wakes up, relief comes crashing down like a flood and he almost buckles under the feeling. Her eyes are disoriented and bloodshot, her voice cracked but it's his Hermione, who says, in a questioning tone, "Draco?"

"How the fuck did you get caught, Granger?" His anger wells up, and suddenly, all he wants to do is scream at her because she told him that she would be safe. Told him that she'd be careful, but here she was, half-dead, and tortured by his crazy aunt, of all people. His heart burns with fear and fury and he's almost blinded by it until he sees her flinch at his expression.

"I-I.." she trails off into sobs and his heart breaks. He approaches her cautiously, hatred for himself replacing the fury. She nestles into his arms, and she feels so light and weak against him that he's afraid she'll shatter if he touches her. Her tears soak through the dress shirt that he hasn't bothered to change out of, and he rocks back and forth, his own tears hidden in her mahogany curls.

They stay like that, his arms trapping her within their safety and her head against his heart, until Fleur comes up to inform him that dinner will be ready soon and her face lights up with joy when she sees that Hermione is awake. "I shall tell 'Arry and Ron zat you are awake, yes? Zey will be pleased to see you."

Hermione just nods and Fleur offers the both of them a parting smile before shutting the door again.

Suddenly, Hermione stiffens and asks, "Did you tell Harry and Ron… about us?"

"I thought you did," Draco says, confusion etched in his gaunt features. "Harry wasn't too surprised when I Apparated here with you."

"Oh, no, he figured it out, last year, he had the Marauder's Map you see—it shows the location of every person in Hogwarts," she says, by way of explanation. Draco rolls his eyes—just what Potter had needed, more help to break the rules. "He told me he knew, when we were on the run. But Ron didn't know. He took it well, I suppose, considering that you're still in one piece."

"Oh, if you mean 'tried to hex me six ways to Sunday' by 'well enough', then yes, he did take it well. But… he was okay with it after a while, I think. Because I took a Cruciatus for you—Harry told him. He hasn't bothered me since we came here, so I don't know." Draco shrugs, running his thumb over the bandage on Hermione's left arm, where Bellatrix sliced a deep, straight line with her cursed knife. Draco is thankful that he'd fought back before she could proceed—he has a feeling that Bellatrix wanted to do much worse than carve a single line in Hermione's skin.

"You took a Crucio for me?" Hermione asks, her eyes looking larger than usual in her thin face. In the moonlight, she almost looks like a child, innocent and sweet.

"I had to. I-I couldn't just stand by and watch that madwoman torture you, Hermione. I'd had enough. The things I saw there…" Draco shudders at the haunting memories, remembering the Muggles he tortured, the sick pleasure on Voldemort's face as he watched countless people die on one of his pointless revels. He remembers the pain of suffering from the Cruciatus at the Carrows' hand, because he'd refused to torture a first-year—a child. He remembers the fear on his mother's face as the Snatchers dragged the three disfigured prisoners and Bellatrix smiled maliciously at the defeated girl in front of her—and he somehow knew that it might be the last time he ever saw her, because he would die to protect Hermione from his aunt's wand.

"It's alright, you know, it's alright," she whispers, a bloodless hand coming to rest against his cheek and he shudders, holding her tight as she soothes him by repeating her words, over and over again. He does not cry—he doesn't think he can, he is too broken for it—but he can feel himself healing as her sweet whispers ghost against his skin.

They whisper their love against each other's lips as they desperately try to forget the last few days—last few months, really. He remembers a conversation they once had in the darkness of a secluded Hogwarts hallway, when he told her that she held him prisoner in her heart because he didn't see any way he could escape from her, from them, without hurting himself.

Her eyes flutter with sleep and she yawns. He kisses her forehead. "Sleep, my love."

He watches as her lips stretch into a drowsy smile and Draco thinks that if he really is her prisoner, he is glad because he's never felt freer than he has in her arms.

#dramione #draco malfoy #draco imagine #draco x hermione #hermione granger #hermione #draco #draco malfoy x hermione granger #hp #hp imagine #harry potter #harry potter fanfic #fanfiction #fanfic #fic

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octoctoctopus · 3 years

Text

teenage rebellion

Pearl gets compulsed by Anthony Coleman and feels the urge to hurt.

tw: blood, knife, stabbing, suicidal ideation

PEARL: Pearl was enjoying herself. With the excuse of SSIC she was able to flit around people, interviewing the ones she recognized. Greg was indeed one she recognized, due to the fact that he was on the board. And Among Us (great way to meet people, honestly). So she smiled, reached out her hand for a handshake, and maybe she could ask some questions while getting to better know a Board member when -- Something jolted. Her mind scrambled. All of the sudden she wanted to hurt. The area around them had exploded with noise and she stared at this Greg. Too tall, she assessed looking at the extra foot he had on her. She could take down tall guys if they were lean, but this -- she didn't just want to take him down. She wanted to hurt him. So Pearl widened her eyes as the mayhem around them exploded. She grabbed Greg's wrist, tugging him away from the mess, towards where she decided there would be good weapons. "Wha-what's going on?? We have to get out of here!"

GREG: There was always a flurry of thoughts going through Greg's brain at any given moment. So for that split second when negativity flooded through him, a near quiet voice seemingly whispering within his mind before it disappeared, Greg didn't even think twice. His mind was always racing. There were always voices in his head, and that flicker was no different. What he did notice though? The shatter of glass behind him, blue hues shifting as he turned with furrowed brows and noticed a very palpable shift within the room. The way the tensions seemed to raise immediately and the flow of conversation shifted on the drop of a pin. He watched a punch get thrown, a woman hurling insults, a broken window - all before a pressure wrapped around his wrist and Gregory was spinning on his heel to follow behind Pearl with a nervous glance back over his shoulder. What the fuck was happening? "I--.. I don't know." He said quickly, turning back to Pearl and trying to keep his tone steady despite the panic rising in his throat. "We-- We'll be fine just keep going. Maybe -.. maybe someone just started a fight? Or---I-.. I dunno, it's okay."

PEARL: Pearl tried to keep her expression scared and nervous. She could cry on command, but that might be overkill at the moment. Instead, she breathed heavy, whipping her head around. There were some other people filtering out of the room -- people running away or fights that had exploded to the hallway. "A fight at town hall? I-I didn't see who started it." She wished she had looked at the floorplan, but she made her guess and opened a door. Score. "S-should we hide in here?" Pearl asked, already walking in.

GREG: In theory - Greg probably should have stayed in the other room. Maybe he could have stopped whatever fight was breaking out? Though... why the hell would they listen to him anyways right? So instead he followed Pearl easily, keeping an eye behind them as the sound of chaos only seemed to be getting...louder. Concern and confusion crept into his expression before Gregory turned back, unable to pause to assess his acquaintance's question before she was pulling him inside the offshoot room with her. "uh--.. I mean.. probably for the best right?" He mumbled, pulling the door closed behind them and swallowing nervously before he turned his gaze back to the room. "...It's..not the weirdest thing that would happen in Swynlake right? Tensions are...hgih. It's- I mean it's probably nothing but.. -We'll...we'll just stay in here until someone handles it." A pause and a nod to assure himself, or her, he wasn't sure. "Shouldn't take long.." In the meantime, he took a few more steps into the room, just enough so that he didn't pull away completely from the woman's grip in case she wanted comfort in some form.

PEARL: "I-" she hesitated on purpose, nervously touching her hair. "I'm new to Swynlake." she winced. "I don't know much about what happens here besides what I've been told and random texts." He was kind of annoying her. The whole act was annoying her. Wasn't he supposed to be a Board member or something? Pearl rushed inside, letting go of his wrist now that she had managed to get him inside. "D=does this kind of thing happen a lot?" she whimpered a bit. Her hands started opening the drawers. There were various utensils, one of them opened to the knife drawer. She internally smiled.

GREG: Greg's brows raised a bit when she said she was new. Sure - he probably should have realized that given the fact he didn't really know her as well as he mightve if she wasn't. He was a native, after all. He tended to know everyone even if they didn't know him. Poor girl probably had no idea what she was in for. "Uh-yeah Swynlake has a lot of.... Weird occurences." He started, letting her slop away from him as he sighed softly and drug a hand through his newly pink hair. "It's always something, yknow?" Greg continued, slipping his gaze up to her for a moment before he turned his back, digging into his pocket for his phone and beginning to tap out a message to his mother - concerned for her safety. "Anyways it's -... I mean we gave the texts but... We gave weird shared dreams and magical things that happen too so -.... It's never out of the ordinary for things to just... do this I.... I guess."

PEARL: Some distant part of her got alerted by what Greg was sharing. There was something going on here, something magick, someone messing with things. Maybe normally Pearl would try to go and find out, to think about what was going on and why people were weird. But right now, Pearl didn't give a fuck. Dreams. Whatever! Instead, her hand curled around a knife. Looking up, she noticed him looking down at his phone, not even paying attention to her. That ticked her off too, even if it did give the perfect opportunity. "Th-that's crazy. So you guys are basically used to this." she murmured. Then, swiftly she made her way over to Greg. Pushing his chest (normally it would be shoulder but you know, #shortpeoplethingz), she used her legs to sweep him off his feet. Then her other hand, the one holding the knife, went down.

GREG: Fingers tapped across the screen, sending a quick message asking where his mother was and if she knew what was going on. The objective took his attention away from his acquaintance, though he didn't find that to be a problem. She was likely just idly toying with things since there was nothing else to do anyways. "Oh yeah... We're kind of used t—" His words cut off as he turned back to glance at the woman - finding her much closer than he expected before the rough shove pressed him off balance. Too quickly he tried to right himself, bending into her shove as his eyes narrowed towards her, only to feel the sudden sweep of his legs being taken out from under him before he could find his center of balance again. Easily the air was knocked from his lungs as he was knocked to the ground, phone clattering across the tiled floor as his elbows slammed down trying to catch himself - a pained grunt slipping from his lips almost immediately. Gaze immediately snapped back up to Pearl - hurt and confusion evident behind his gaze before it zeroed in on the glint of light reflecting off the object coming towards him. Oh no There was no stopping the noise that slipped from him as the blade easily tore through fabric and flesh - driving into his lower abdomen as Greg briefly wondered if he was stuck in a Swynlake nightmare. The pained scream that tore from his lips couldn't have been real, after all.... Right? "S-Stop!" He sobbed almost immediately after he managed to find his voice - his hand snapping out to hold her wrist, either to stop her from pulling back again or just out of pure instinct, was unclear. Why was she doing this? What did he do? Why?" P-... Pl-.. please"

PEARL: This was much better. She could feel the layers she always hid herself with. The soft smiles, the fake compliments. She was a monster, abandoned by her parents. Her mouth did twitch down at his scream -- he had been nice to her before, if she recalled correctly -- but well, that was his fault for trusting someone awful as her! Pearl twisted one hand away from him. "Hey don't do that." She kept her other hand on her knife, which was still in him. There was blood now. She stared at it dimly. Pearl had never seen blood like this before. It was redder than she would've expected. She has caused this, caused this liquid to stream out innocently. Pearl looked at Greg's face. She smiled cheerfully. The damage had already been done. Greg would realize how much of a monster she was, and he would tell the Board and word would get around and her dads would hear how quickly people realized what a screw up she was. Despite knowing this, or maybe because she knew this, she was in a good mood. "Do you want me to do it again?"

GREG: Wake up. It burned. That was about the first coherent thought that crossed his mind. It felt like the blade was on fire, it burned and his entire body just felt hot. the second thought was it hurt. Though maybe not as much as he thought it did, he just... His mind knew it hurt. It should hurt. Perhaps he was even projecting hurt, but regardless - every breath he took dragged with it a sharp prick of discomfort. Gregory was terrified to move, and a quiet whimper was his only response to his hand being twisted away from the foreign object embedded inside his body. Please fucking wake up "N-..No!_ He sobbed, though the word acted more as a verbal exclamation more than any coherent thought, his fear only multiplying as panic clawed its way into his mind. His gaze rapidly flickered to the phone, too far to reach even if he wanted to risk moving. Defenseless. Without even a single person knowing where he was.... God.. Was-... Was he going to die here? The thought spurred another desperate shift, twisting his hand back against hers, fighting again through the fear and pain to try and get her hand away from the knife. "P-... Pl-please ...st-stop... Ple- please P-..pearl. s-stop."

PEARL: Were there really only two types of people in the world. The ones who were mean, who wanted power. And those that were... pathetic. It slipped out too. "You're kind of pathetic, aren't you?" She understood. She had those moments of terror, when it was dark out and she was by herself. Or when it was dark inside and there were too many people. If she had a choice, Pearl would always choose being strong. Her mind focused again on the task in front of her. To hurt. He was basically squirming underneath her. She glanced at the phone along with him, but it was far away. Not a threat. The floors were tidy as well, the only sign that someone had distributed it were the open drawers. And the blood. He was fighting at least, a bit. Trying to grab her hand and, although she went to the gym, she was pretty sure he would beat her in strength regardless. "Okay okay Greg, it's okay." she lifted her hand from him, watching the blood stain his shirt. She wrinkled her nose -- her skirt had blood on it now. It was one of her favorites too. Pearl inched the knife away from him slightly, watching him warily. She swung the knife down again. Another grin. "Oops."

GREG: Pathetic. The word somehow still stood out amidst the fog of pain and panic - and even that was like another blow to the gut with the knife. Pathetic. As if Gregory Eeyore had ever been anything more than pathetic in his lifetime. He knew it was the way people thought of him. People like Toulouse... Even Hades probably thought it too. They were right too. If it wasn't true he wouldn't be in this situation. Wouldn't be clawing desperately to a strangers hand for some attempt to save his own pathetic worthless life. Maybe it was better this way. A shaky breath fell from parted lips when Pearl nearly cooed calmy at him, his head unconsciously nodding with her words as an attempt to comfort himself. It's okay. Though a gasp quickly tore from his throat instead as the knife slid up and out of his skin, pulling a tension that felt like a thousand needles drawing his skin together. The burn only amplifying as equally hot tears rolled off his cheek and onto the floor. The second scream was louder than the first - more painful than the first. The blade drove through his skin again and Greg was certain now he was going to die. The terror kicked every other thought from his brain as he squirmed immediately, the movement only radiating a pain he'd never felt in his life. Desperately his hands reached out again, looking for purchase on anything he could reach - anything he could do to stop the knife from digging deeper and deeper into his side - completely unaware of the panicked sobs that continued to fall from his lips.

PEARL: Greg was so weak. Pearl despised him, at this moment. She wanted him to fight so she could reign victorious over someone strong. Not these panicked flutters of hand movements. Weak people didn't survive in this kind of world. It's why she had to be strong. She had to fight and hurt people in order to protect herself. Greg deserved this for being weak. Blood had continued to gather on the ground, getting her FILA shoes dirty. She scoffed, before standing up. She left the knife still in. Easily, Pearl picked up the phone that Greg had dropped. There was a crack but the screen was still on to reveal the frantic messages from someone that was surely Greg's mom. Her hands tightened (Pearl would never know her mother) but her eyes remained cold. She typed out a reply, reassuring the other person that he was safe, just that he had to escape from the mayhem momentarily. She left the phone on the counter, high and far enough that he wouldn't be able to reach it easily. There. Walking back to Greg, Pearl didn't go too close. But she smiled before waving her hand. "It was nice meeting you, Mr Board Member sir. Thanks for helping me out!" Then she walked out, closing the door behind her.

--------

PEARL: Pearl walked out of the room, looking around her sharply. There was smoke coming out of the main room, although there were still people yelling in there. Idiots. At the people looking at her though, she casually hid the knife from them -- not obviously but just so that people couldn't see it right away. It wouldn't do for her to lose that element of surprise. She surveyed the people around her when that rush of hurt people came on her again. Instantly, she picked a familiar face and walked up to her quickly, putting on that expression of anxiety and nervous, stumbling just for the sake of it. "M-mei! Is that you?"

MEI: Honestly, Mei didn't know how this had happened. She'd...been in the bathroom, when it had all started. She'd heard the screaming and ran to see what was going on--and found that the entire ballroom had erupted in chaos. Of course, being Mei, instead of running away, she'd dived into the fray, searching for her sisters or Lock or Barrel or any of her friends. All who were here. She had seen people punching each other, stealing, breaking things. There were people with knives. The air was thick with smoke and reagents of confusion and anger, bursting red and yellow like fireworks. It was overwhelming. She didn't know how long it had been. Long enough that her voice had gone hoarse for crying out for Lock and Ting-Ting and Su--she had stopped trying. Which meant she was so thankful to see a friendly face. "Pearl! Oh my gosh! Are you alright?" She grabbed onto her newest friend's hand--not noticing that the other one was occupied...

PEARL: Pearl blinked a bit, when Mei grabbed her. Ah yes, physical touch. For a second, she was just going to stab Mei right here. It was her fault that she was so callous in grabbing the hand of the first person she saw. Just that--there were still a lot of people. Would someone jump in? Maybe if it was a big man you would pretend that you were occupied with the other obstacles that existed, but if it was just a small girl-- yeah she would have to execute this similarly to Greg. This town probably was pretty good about avoiding bystander effect. "Omg yeah I am. How have you been doing??" her eyes scrunched up, looking like she was on the verge of tears. Pearl clasped Mei's hand, starting to walk somewhere. Maybe to a forgotten hallway. "This is craziness. I-I was just in the town hall when people started to punch each other and..." she shook her head. "I'm glad you're safe though."

MEI: Mei didn't hesitate to follow Pearl. She walked with a purpose, like she knew a place where they could go that would be safe. Not that--Mei exactly wanted to be safe, but she was exhausted. Just running around trying to find her family had been terrifying enough. Maybe she could...get a second wind, start calling her sisters and boyfriend again, see if any of them would pick up. "I've been looking for my sisters or my boyfriend o-or anyone, really. It's so chaotic! I can't find, anyone." She blinked tears away too but squeezed Pearl's hand. "It'll be alright, though. This--happens sometimes. Don't worry."

PEARL: A distant part of Pearl, so distant that she didn't even realize she thought it, thought about her dads. They didn't go out to the mixer today, since they knew that Pearl was doing recaps and they were very proud of that ie would ask her what the main points were. Maybe they had walked outside at all the commotion, or were worrie-- Pearl had a job to do. "Y-yeah. We found each other. They should be fine." She guided them to a hallway, which was relatively empty compared to the rest of the building. It almost seemed too pristine, untouched by the other fights happening. "Do-does this happen a lot? Fights and fire and..." she trailed off. She paused, still holding Mei's hand. The other hand still gripping the knife.

MEI: "Oh, good." Mei was jealous that Pearl had found her people. Though...if that was the case, what was she doing out here? Was she trying to help others? Mei hadn't known Pearl very long but...that didn't exactly seem like her. Not that Mei blamed her. No one would go back out there in their right mind. It was enough dissonance to make her blink, though. "Uh, I mean, not super of--" Then, she looked down, saw the glint of the knife. "--ten...Pearl, what are you doing with that?" Had she picked it up to protect herself? Was--was that blood?

PEARL: As soon as Mei glanced at the knife, Pearl knew that time was up. There was no energy to exert on words, no need for polite small talk, all that mattered were actions. That was a problem with people sometimes honestly. There were so many sentences, so many words that came out, but they were just empty air. False pleasantries spurred by societal structure or whatever. It was time to show something that could be identified as being truthful. Luckily, they were still holding hands (like honestly though, Mei really was asking for it) so Pearl gripped her hand and swung it -- using the momentum to slam Mei into the nearby wall. The other hand followed fast, aiming straight for Mei's body.

MEI: It happened fast after that. Mei had just one moment of realizing what was happening as Pearl's face twisted and her hand turned into a claw on Mei's wrist, trapping her. She tried to tug away, but Pearl had the strength of whatever had possessed her and surprise on her side. She yelped as Pearl slammed her against the wall. Her head knocked back against it, causing stars to dance behind her eyes. And then, there was a pain in her side that felt-- Well, like she'd been stabbed. Mei cried out as the blade sliced easily right into her side. Her legs buckled slightly, only held up by Pearl's body against hers. Her other hand went to Pearl's shoulder on instinct, trying to push her away. "Pearl--" she gasped, "what--"

PEARL: There was a thrill when the blade made contact with skin. The visual effect she could see of a life she had affected. She mattered in this world, she was making a mark! Pearl ignored the hand on her shoulder, instead slowly letting Mei down on the ground. At the same time, the knife sunk in deeper into her. Mei's outfit was pretty, Pearl dimly noticed. Pearl did enjoy Mei's style, even if it was a bit too 'young' for her. It would be difficult to wash out the blood that was slowly seeping into it. Pearl mock pouted. "I thought you wanted to know what I was doing with the knife? I was just showing you." The pout turned into a smirk.

MEI: The pain radiating from her side was hot and sharp. Unlike anything she'd ever felt before. Her breaths came in pants because every one hurt, she could feel the knife. She already was starting to feel a bit faint--mostly from the shock than anything. As she slid down the wall, she feebly kicked at Pearl's shin, trying to do a bit of damage. She was a dancer, after all. She had some strength in a kick. "This--this--isn't you," Mei gasped as she tasted either blood or bile in the back of her throat and blinked blearily up at Pearl.

PEARL: Due to the fact that Pearl had worn a skirt, and because she was enjoying the last good bit of fall weather while she had it, had also elected to wear no tights. Mei's shoe hit bare skin. It didn't hurt her, it wasn't like a knife stab after all, but it was still mildly annoying. That plus Mei's comment and she scoffed despite herself. "Mei, I know that sometimes you lack basic social awareness, but you don't know the first thing about me." With that, Pearl kept her one hand securely on Mei's shoulder to keep her in place, while her other hand lifted the knife from Mei, only to stab her once again.

MEI: Alright, so--the second stab definitely hurt worse than the first. She felt that one sink into her stomach as if she were a doll being torn open. For a moment, she just stared down dumbly at her torn blouse and the bright blood now covering her side and chest. Of course, Mei had seen plenty of blood before. She was a girl, after all. And, she'd helped deliver plenty of babies (though, ironically, there wasn't actually that much blood when someone gave birth.) This, though, this was a lot of blood--and the more that pulsed out of her, the colder she felt. There wasn't even fear, really, just confusion and this heavy, exhausted feeling. She reached a clumsy hand up to try to push Pearl off again. "S-stop," she coughed, a bit of blood dribbling out of her mouth. That--probably wasn't good, she thought vaguely.

LOCK: After sending Phineas on his way, Lock had gone back in to look in Town Hall. No one was answering their phones. He still wasn’t the best at tracking and the night full of smoke and blood definitely made it a lot harder to single someone out. But he hadn’t looked through all of Town Hall so maybe... The metallic smell was strong in the air, and he’d even stepped into a pool of it leaking out from under a table. A problem for someone else. He looked around, fearful and angry faces everywhere. And then a particular smell hit him. A lot harder than it normally would, but his body moved on its own. He darted in the direction, towards a hallway, and - Blood. There was so much of Mei’s blood on her clothes, the floor, even the wall as this small girl stood over her. Even in the dim light, he could see it. With his vampire speed, he ran over, grabbed the little girl by the hair, and with more force than necessary ripped her back from his girlfriend and moved himself between them. He saw the bloody knife in her hand. It was all he needed to know. “I’m going to enjoy this,” He snarled, his other hand going to her neck.

PEARL: Pearl didn't even see it coming. One second she was on the floor kneeling over Mei, the other her hair was hurting like fire and she was standing. She snarled, literally snarled. A women's hair, or hair in general, was sacred to them. In any fight with self-respecting people, no one touched the hair. This was breaking some sort of ancient human contract. It was also maddeningly because well, she was short and she couldn't pay him back by also grabbing his hair. So Pearl would pay him back some other way. One of her hands gripped her hair too, closer to her scalp, trying to yank it from his grasp. She ducked his other hand, with a speed that was spurred by the voice in her head and the adrenaline in her body rather than something that she would be normally capable of doing. Then once they were at a close distance, Pearl kicked as fast as she could. Yes, Pearl was aiming towards his crotch area.

MEI: Mei wasn't even thinking about dying. Maybe she should be. That was very clearly what was happening. She wasn't, though. Her brain felt too sluggish to really wrap her mind around much of anything: Pearl, stabbing her. The fact that they were alone... She was trying to think of something to do instead. Some way to get out of this. There had to be something. Mei wasn't going to go down in stupid Town Hall of all places. And not before she had helped Lock undo his vampirism and not before Su graduated high school and not before Ting-Ting found true love and got married... Struggling to sit up more so that she could fight back, Mei almost passed out, her head lulling forwards-- But, then, Pearl's presence was gone from in front of her and she heard-- Was that Lock's voice? Blearily, Mei blinked, looking up to see Lock with a look on his face that she'd never seen before. It was dark and angry and--she knew what he was thinking. "Lock," she said, but it just made her cough again, more blood dribbling out of her mouth as she clutched at her stomach and her side. "Don't."

LOCK: The little bitch had the audacity to kick him. Of all things. Lock grunted, almost buckling and even releasing her hair, but kept a firm grip on her tiny neck. He was going to snap it one way or - He stopped at the raspy voice behind him. Mei. Dying. If he had breath, if he had a heart - He moved fast. Shoving the girl back against the opposite wall and ducking down beside Mei as he bit into his wrist. "Hang on. You're going to be okay," He said quickly, holding his bloody wrist up to her mouth before looking back at the girl. "Run and hope I don't find you if you know what's best for you."

PEARL: In normal circumstances -- well in normal circumstances Pearl did not stab people just for catching her eye. But in more normal circumstances, an interaction with someone clearly magick and stronger than her would lead her to instantly dip. She did have an adventurous spirit, but she also had a strong survival spirit. Right now though, that survival spirit was muffled. Pearl gasped as she hit the wall, but instantly scrambled up. The knife in her hand almost seemed to burn with anticipation. There was some merit in having gripped it firmly even as this Lock threw her away from Mei. Now, she ran back towards Lock and Mei, trying to cut anything she could get close enough to maim.

MEI: Mei tried to sit up, but she was slowly losing the strength. It was more terrifying than the rest, considering she was a dancer and she was used to complete control. She was used to her body obeying her. And it just—wouldn’t. Her hand only lifted feebly when Lock drew close enough, reaching to catch her fingers on the lapel of his leather jacket. Her head almost tilted forward, but she noticed movement and shoved weakly at Lock’s shoulder. "Look out!" she rasped.

LOCK: "Shit!" Lock jerked back from Mei, turning to look behind him as hurried steps rushed forward. That girl with the knife was coming for more. And Mei didn't want him to kill her. It would have been so much easier. He moved, trying to cover Mei more from the knife and it went right through his forearm. Blood splattered from the wound, soaking into his clothes immediately and he gritted his teeth at the pain. "You little bitch!" He snarled, and turned to punch her in the gut with his other arm.

PEARL: Pearl was glad to see the blood that came from his arm -- he was such a jerk -- but it was only a momentarily positive when he actually managed to fight back, a punch swinging at her too fast to react. The punch was also pretty damn strong. Not like in her self defense classes where they always wore padded outfits. Even there, she knew her soft and small features made it so they couldn't exactly hit her as hard as they might to other people. This dude didn't seem to care about anything like that though. With the punch, she actually physically flew back a bit. Not like, a crazy amount but still enough that Pearl realized that Lock meant business. It was also at that moment when she noticed a person pass the hallway. She narrowed her eyes, calculating. Pearl had already hurt these two people, she should try and increase that number. Mass chaos, mass damage. "See you later Mei." she said coldly before scurrying away.

#just wanted to catalogue this event lol #bdrpevent #didn't really keep the formatting so sorry for the huge text paragraphs

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