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forever-rogue · 4 years

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Apples & Lattes

A/N: Not requested or anything, but I have been in my fall and Marcus feels, so here we are. Its just a lot of sweet fluff, but I hope you all enjoy 💕🥰

Pairing: Marcus Pike x Reader

Warnings: None

Word Count: 7.6k

MASTERLIST

»»————-　♡　————-««

“When are you going to finally settle down and get married?” you nearly choked on your wine as your mother calmly asked you the question you’d pointedly hoped wouldn’t happen. But here it was. Again. Just like so many other times.

Once you’d calmed down and cleared the sweet, red wine from your throat, you set your glass down and plastered the kindest smile you could muster up on your face. The air in the room was so thick with tension it was physically palpable, “I’m not.. I’m not even seeing anyone, Mom. I don’t think that’s a feasible question at this point.”

“But honey,” there was that sticky sweet and concerned tone again, “you’re getting older and still haven’t married. Aren’t you worried that you’ll end up alone? Why haven’t you found anyone yet?”

“Gee, thanks for the concern,” you sighed as you pushed your plate away, suddenly losing your appetite. You knew you shouldn’t have to come to Sunday Dinner at your parents’ house. Everyone else in the room was deathly silent - no was sure what to say or do, “but um, no, it’s never occurred to me. I don’t think about it, really.”

Oh, but you did. You just weren’t about to admit that to her just yet.

“Look at all your friends, and colleagues,” she wasn’t about the let issue go. Fantastic, you wanted to groan and slam your head onto the table then and there, “they’re all married, getting married, or starting their own families.”

“And that’s great for them,” you cut her off, “I’m just not there, and honestly, I don’t know if I ever will be. And that’s just fine by me. I don’t have to be like everyone else.”

“I just want you to be happy-”

“And I am,” you insisted. And you were - truly. But there was a part of you that did long for more... “really. I’m also busy with work - in case you’ve forgotten I run my own business. Besides, I just haven’t met anyone that’s really caught my eye.”

You’d gone on dates here and there, but no ever really seemed to be...the one. The one you’d be willing risk it all for and with. Sure, some were nice, really nice, and others were good for a night in bed, but you’d never deemed anyone worthy of more. Your time was precious, and you weren’t about to waste it on anyone just because, just so you could have a half hearted relationship that ultimately left you unfulfilled.

“Maybe you should be...less picky,” she suggested and you almost snorted laughter.

"Listen," you stood up abruptly, your chair scraping lucky against the wooden floor, "this has been great and all, but I'm going to go. I didn't come here to be berated and belittled because of choices I've made. If I wanted that, I'd serve a customer a wrong order. And no, mom, I'm not going to be less picky or lower my standards just to find someone and please you."

"What if you ever find someone? You're so arrogant and stubborn sometimes-"

"Then so be it," you tossed the napkin onto the table and gave everyone a mock bow before turning to leave, "and then I'll be a lonely, but happy, old spinster!"

Before anyone of them could respond with so much as a sound, you stormed out of the room and out of the house, ready to be far, far away from them.

»»————-　♡　————-«

"Come on," you whispered under your breath as you reached for the last few apples on the branch. They were just out of your reach, and you were stretching precariously across the way trying to get them. The rickety old ladder under you wobbled slightly, but ignored its protests, reaching just a little more. These were the most perfect apples you had seen in some time and you needed them. Had to have them even.

Which was exactly why you were risking life and limb for them.

Finally, one of them came into contact with your gloved and you had made a small sound of triumph. But before you grab it and put in the bucket hanging from another of the branches, the ancient ladder decided it had had enough. And it started to tip over, causing you to do the same.

Everything happened so fast you almost didn't have to react, instead you braced yourself for the hard impact with the cold ground.

But it never came.

Instead you felt yourself securely enveloped in a pair of strong arms. When everything felt safe again, you slowly opened your eyes and peeked around to study your surroundings. Instead of the hard, dirty ground, you meet a pair of warm, soft chocolate eyes.

"Are you okay?" If his eyes were sweet and honeyed, then the voice that met your ears was even more so. You tried to find your own and tell him that yes, despite almost breaking your neck for some apples, you were just fine. But nothing came out - instead you stared at him, feeling a flush of warmth wash over you. He seemed concerned for a moment when you didn't respond but eventually you nodded and he gently set you back down, "there you are."

"I...ugh...erm...thank you," your voice finally seemed to return to as you bit your lip, suddenly feeling more shy than ever. Where was this suddenly coming from? Was it because you had quite literally fallen into the arms of one of the most handsome men you had ever seen? Possibly.

"Are you sure you're alright?" he asked with a warm chuckle. Slowly, ever so gently, he put his hand under your chin and tilted your face up to make sure there was no visible damage. His touch was like pure fire, sending a warmth and sparks throughout your veins.

"Yes," you said softly, giving him an affirmative nod, "just umm...apparently not very careful. Totally my own fault."

"That old thing wasn't helping," he gave the now ruined ladder a dismissal look, "it was ready to collapse at any moment."

"It didn't help that I was leaning over and trying to get those apples," you pointed at the few that remained, sighing heavily. You'd really wanted them, but now it looked like you'd have to leave them behind. Along with the rest that you had picked and left hanging in the bucket. Maybe you'd find some other good ones on another tree...

"Those?" he asked, pointing at the branch as you nodded sadly. A megawatt grin crossed his features as he walked over to the base of the tree, "the bucket - it's yours too?"

"Yes...I guess I should go back and get another ladder...hopefully they have some more," you were definitely more upset about your apples than you should have been. But hey, you'd been hunting for and picking apples for hours.

"No need," he said quickly. You were about to ask him what he meant but he quickly answered your silent question by climbing the tree and scaling the branch, effortlessly grabbing your bucket. But he didn't stop there - oh no. He siddled carefully along the branch and picked the remainder of your precious apples, setting them in the bucket along with the others.

Your mouth was open as you watched him in wonder, amazed by how effortless he made everything seem. Before you knew it, he was jumping down landing on his feet gracefully, a little smile on his face as you just watched him in awe.

"I believe these are yours," he said as he held out the bucket, filled to the brim with your treasures, "what's so special about these particular apples?"

"These are the perfect blend of tart and sweet," you said softly as you slowly took them from him, "for baking and making all sorts of pastries. They're hard to find around here and this orchard only has a few of the specific trees. So...I wanted to make sure I got them."

"And now you have them," he beamed at you as you struggled not to completely melt under his soft gaze, "I hope they serve you well. Do you do a lot of baking?”

"I-"

"Pike!" someone shouted as the man's face visibly contorted into a look of annoyance. You tried to hold back your giggles as he dramatically rolled his eyes, "we have to go!"

"I'll be right there!" he let out a long sigh before meeting your eyes again and giving you an almost apologetic look, to which you answered with a soft smile, "well, I guess this is goodbye."

"Thank you," you held out your hand for him to shake. He wasted no time in shaking it in his much larger one, sending a pleasant shiver down your spine, "I appreciate you saving both my neck, literally and metaphorically, and getting my apples for me."

"Don't mention it," he said softly, "it was a pleasure to meet you. I didn't get your name and I -"

"Pike! Now!"

"Better get going," you jerked your head in the direction of the man that was shouting for him. Although, if you were being honest with yourself, you were reluctant to see him go, "thank you again."

He opened his mouth to say something else but instead his name was shouted yet again. Hanging his head in annoyance, he exhaled sharply through his nose, "any time..."

Not wanting him to get in any trouble, you took your apples and gave him one last wave before walking away. Your feet had never felt so heavy and every part of you was humming to turn around and go back to him. To at least get his name, first name anyways as you assumed Pike must have been his surname. But you didn't. Why bother? You'd never see him again and it wouldn't do well to dwell on him or what had happened. It was just an accident and he was a nice man that helped you. A one and done deal; it wasn't like you'd just met Prince Charming.

Then why did you want to turn around and run after him?

Marcus watched as you trekked away, wondering if there was actually a bounce in your step or if he was imagining it. He sighed deeply at what he already deemed the most annoying thing to happen in a long time. As he watched you, he realized that your scarf had fallen and been left on the ground. Marcus quickly picked it up, ready to rush after you and return it. But you were already gone. Clutching onto the soft, still slightly warm fabric, he tucked it into his pocket. One way or another he would find it and return it to you. He was an FBI agent for goodness sake, it should be an easy task.

"Pike!" Marcus cursed under his breath as he turned around to leave. He would find you again, he vowed, no matter what.

»»————-　♡　————-«

By the way the man called Pike had been living in your mind rent free for what seemed to be days, you'd think you'd have done a lot more than exchange a few words with him.

But alas.

You'd had your one interaction with him and the rest had been daydream fantasies. You'd even let your mind wander so far as to wonder what it would be like to kiss those plump pouty lips that were burned into your mind. You wondered if he was always so kind and thoughtful or if it had been a matter of convenient timing.

Or something...it was a random encounter and you were just glad he had been there to catch you.

As you another pie down to cool, you softly heard your name being called from the doorway. It was Sabrina, one of your several loyal employees, poking her head in and offering you a smile.

"What's up?" you asked as you wiped your hands on the rag over your shoulder before tossing it onto the counter.

"There's someone here to see you," there was something about the little grin on her face that had you intrigued. You tilted your head curiously, "just..come on."

"I'm busy with-"

"Come on," she innocently with wide eyes as you laughed lightly, amused by her persistence. You didn’t normally have people come and directly ask for you...not unless it was an off moment and someone was mad about something trivial, “the apple pies can wait.”

“I almost died for these apples,” you joked, stripping off your apron and laying it down on the counter, “this better be worth it.”

“Oh, I think it will be,” she promised as she held the door open for you and let you go in front of her. As you walked up to the counter, you prepared to put on your best customer service voice, hoping whatever little problem it was could be solved with a smile and a slice of pie.

As the person came into view, your mouth dropped open as he quickly locked eyes with you. His own mouth quickly turned into a grin, his warm, soft eyes almost twinkling.

“Hi,” you barely managed to choke out as you walked over to him. You hadn’t expected to see him again. Ever. But here he was, in your own little coffee shop out of all the places in the world. This had to be some sort of dream, “I didn’t think I’d see you again.”

“Hi,” he replied, producing his hand from behind his back, holding out your scarf to you. In all honesty, you’d completely forgotten about it, having made peace with the face that you’d probably lost it somewhere. But this was most definitely a welcome surprise. Your favorite scarf back - and hand delivered by a handsome man? This was definitely too good to be true, “you dropped this at the orchard last weekend. I wanted to make sure you had it back.”

“Thank you so much,” you gently took it from him, clutching the soft fabric tightly to your chest.

"You found me..." you said softly, amazed by his sleuthing skills. You hadn't even gotten the chance to give him your name and he had still found you. But then again...surely a coincidence..."how did you manage that? I didn't even get a chance to give you my name..."

"Well, it's kind of a part of the job," he said as you raised an eyebrow at him. His mouth formed a small o as his cheeks took on a pink tinge, "I realize that doesn't quite sound right. I swear I'm not some sort of stalker."

"That sounds like exactly what a stalker would say," you laughed as he hung his head in mock defeat, "even if you are, it was very kind of you to return my scarf."

"FBI," he admitted softly under his breath as you mulled it over. It would explain the suit, which you thought fit him perfectly, but then you caught a quick peek of a badge under the jacket. You were sure it said FBI on it. Maybe he was legit, "I work for the FBI."

"How perfectly mysterious," you teased with a small wink, "all this trouble for a scarf? I'm just curious...how did you put it all together?"

"Itwasformorethanthescarf," he mumbled so quickly you weren't able to quickly catch everything. Before you could ask him for clarification, however, he continued, "it wasn't hard really."

"Oh?" you grinned, "do tell. If you've got the time, of course..."

"I do actually-"

"Wait!" you almost jumped in excitement as a wicked little idea crossed your mind, "do you like apple pie?"

"Its my favorite," he admitted shyly.

"Great," you beamed at him, "I have fresh apple pie, with the apples from last weekend! You have to try it. How do you take your coffee?"

“A little bit of cream and a healthy amount of sugar,” you couldn’t help but grin at the simple order, thinking it suited him perfectly. You motioned for him to sit at a quiet little table in the corner as you got to work. You could feel his kind eyes on you the entire time as you prepared your coffees, hoping you made it to his liking.

Sabrina must have been lurking nearby and listening as she popped out with two plates of warm, fresh pie. Flashing you an innocent smile, she flounced over to Marcus, and set the pie down with an overly cheery smile.

“He’s cute,” she whispered as she pushed past you, “you’ve finally found a keeper it appears.”

“I don’t...no,” you insisted as you grabbed a mug in each hand, “he’s not...I don’t know him.”

“Oh, but you will,” she winked before waving at a newly arrived customer and going to attend to them.

You bit your lip, letting out a long sigh before turning around to go back to him. You weren’t going to get lost in your little daydream fantasies...not yet at least.

“Here you are,” you set the coffee in front of him as you took the seat across from him, “I hope it’s okay.”

“Perfect,” he promised as he took a long sip. Grabbing a fork, he looked at the pie as you encouraged him to take a bite. He took a big forkful, giving it a thorough look over before putting it into his mouth. Almost fighting back a moan at how sinfully delicious the pie was, all he could do was nod before taking another heaping bit. You had been right, these apples made for some delicious, maybe the most delicious pie he had ever eaten, “holy shit.”

“Good, right?” your voice was singsong sweet as you took a bite from your own plate. His eyes were wide as all he could do was devour the remainder of his plate, “I’m telling you, it’s the apples, they make all the difference.”

“I can see why you were willing to break your neck for them,” he agreed. You’d converted another one, “I’m glad you didn’t though…”

“Me too,” you stared at your plate for a moment, “otherwise no one else would be able to make this delicious pie. Now tell me, mysterious FBI Agent, how did you find me?”

“It was simple,” he admitted, “all I did was look up the apples, and low and behold, an article about the woman that loves to use them for her renowned pies popped up. It just so happens that it was the same woman that fell into my arms when foraging for said apples. And she owns a café in the city where I work. I took it as a sign.”

Your cheeks felt like they were on fire as you listened to him. You should have realized it would really be simple for anyone to find you, but the fact that it was him just sent a spark through your veins. He had chosen to go through all of this trouble for you, “ahh, well, I should have realized it would be easy to find me. Either way, thank you for going through all of this trouble to bring back my scarf.”

“Any time,” he promised like it had been no big deal in the slightest. To him it wasn’t, not for you anyway. That much he already decided. He said your name softly and you wanted to melt then and there. That voice. That honeyed, sofy baritone already did a number on you, “I was wondering-”

“Hold on,” you licked some of the pie filing off of your fork as you waggled it at him, “you know my name now, but I still don’t know yours. Although if I remember correctly, that annoying man that called you away kept calling you Pike.”

“Marcus Pike,” he confirmed, holding his hand across the table for you to shake. You eagerly took it, trying not to marvel at how large and soft his was, “or Agent Pike. But you can call me Marcus.”

“Marcus,” you repeated his name, deciding you liked how it sounded, especially coming from him, “I like it. It suits you.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you agreed quietly, “umm, I’m sorry, I interrupted you earlier, what were you going to ask?”

“I was wondering if you’d like to-”

“Boss!” Sabrina had the most impeccable timing as she poked her head back out from the kitchen, “I need your help. I’m having trouble with the oven…”

“Can it wait a few moments? I’m sure it’s-”

“Fire,” she said meekly, “small fire, but fire…”

“Shit,” you hissed under your breath as you jumped to your feet, instructing her to get the fire extinguisher, “I’m so sorry to cut this short, but I gotta go. It was nice to see you, Marcus. Thank you...for everything. I really appreciate it. You can just leave your plate and mug, I’ll grab them later.”

“No problem,” he said as he watched you all but run away, sighing lightly to himself. More perfect timing. He drummed his fingers along the table before stacking the plates and grabbing your mugs and taking them to the spot you had designated for dirty dishes, despite what you had told him. Before he walked out, he got a quick burst of genius as he quickly grabbed a napkin and the pen from his suit pocket, scribbling down his phone number. He leaned over the counter and tucked it near the register, hoping you would see it and know it was from him.

He hoped you would keep it and get back to him.

He hoped, he hoped, he hoped.

»»————-　♡　————-«

Several weeks had passed since you had fallen for Marcus. Literally of course. The jury was still out on the metaphorical part. Okay...that was probably true too. He was living rent free in your mind, occupying many of your thoughts throughout the day.

You’d found his number and after finally convincing yourself to text him, you found yourself exchanging texts with him throughout the day. It was on and off of course, with you at the cafe and him at the FBI, but was nice. It always brought a smile to your face to see a text from him.

It had even led to him asking to take you out on a date, a proper date.

You said yes, naturally.

But that was almost three weeks ago, and the date had yet to happen.

The first time you got ready to go out with Marcus, he canceled at the last moment. You were already all dressed and ready, makeup and hair done when you'd gotten the hectic call. It was work, naturally, and you couldn't blame the FBI agent. He sounded genuinely upset to cancel, but promised he'd make it up to you soon. At least you'd gotten some decent selfies out of night, even if you ended up eating Chinese takeout and watching Netflix.

The second time, you had to cancel on Marcus. It was the morning of your redo date night, and you had found at the last moment that a well known food journalist wanted to interview you. You were reluctant to go and cancel again, but Marcus had been more than encouraging. So you went and Marcus ordered a pizza and binge watched some cooking shows on TV.

The third time it was a mutual cancelation. Marcus' parents came to surprise with a visit and you ended up with a stomach bug. Both of you were reluctant to cancel, and swore the next time it would work out.

It had to, right? Surely things would happen this time.

But no.

The fourth time around, you were both thoroughly determined to make things work. It was going to work out this time. It had to.

But once again, fate had different plans.

You and Marcus had made all of your plans, and you'd decided to leave work early to go home and get ready for your date, and were ready to finally spend time with him. But it turns out the restaurant you'd selected was booked for the evening and your reservation had been given away. Marcus had a last minute briefing for a big case he was working. Once again, the universe had decided it was not meant to be.

Maybe...maybe it wasn't meant to be at all.

"Why do you look so upset?" Sabrina asked as the two of you set up some Christmas decorations around the shop, "you look like you're going to burst into tears any second."

"I'm just..." you were cut off by the sound of the bell, signaling a new customer. You quickly told her you would handle it as you walked up the counter. But your dismay quickly turned into hope and butterflies when you saw that it was none other than Marcus, "hi."

"Hi," you'd already forgotten just how much you adored that soft, gentle smile.

"What...are you doing here?"

"Well, my meeting ended early," he explained, "and I figured that even though our reservations were canceled, we could still have our date...finally."

"Really?" you tried to contain the pure delight that was flowing through veins as he slowly nodded, "I'd love to but-"

"We can handle things from here, boss!"

"I'd love to," you beamed at him, "I'm just...little underdressed."

"I know its nothing fancy," he started as you pulled off your apron and tossed behind the counter, "but I was thinking you could come over to mine? I don't want to brag but I'm a pretty good cook, and I've got some new wine I've been meaning to try. I hope this isn't too forward, I just thought a quiet evening in would be nice."

"I'd love to," you agreed eagerly. Sure, you'd only talked to him mostly through text or on the phone at this point, but you already liked him a lot - trusted him, "it will be nice to finally have our date. I was starting to feel like the universe might be against us."

"Everything happens as it should and when it should," he promised as you grabbed your purse, "and by the way, I think you look beautiful."

You didn't even bother to try and hide your smile at that point.

As it turned out, Marcus was an excellent cook, and the wine was indeed delicious.

You spent the night at his, despite your original intentions, but one thing led to another and soon enough you were in his bed, unsure where you ended and he began.

It was the first of my many such nights.

»»————-　♡　————-«

Falling in love with Marcus was easy. You didn't even have to think about it. It started out as a slow, gradual thing which soon blossomed into something you had never experienced before. At first it was scary, but like with everything else, Marcus made it wonderful.

At first it was things like good morning and good night texts. Then it was him randomly popping in to see you during his lunch breaks or you stopping into his office when you had some downtime.

Then it was the random evenings spent together - he stopped by your apartment with your favorite take out if he knew you'd had a rough day. You'd let yourself into his if you knew he was working late and make dinner and dessert.

It was the late nights spent watching silly movies or having a catch up on your favorite shows. It was lazy Sunday mornings spent in the kitchen the two of you cooking and dancing to slow music that was on in the background. It was Saturdays spent exploring new places and cities, or spending the day in bed, tangled up in each other.

It was the way he seemed to say I love you in a million different ways, without even saying the words. But he spoke them all the time as well, and you never once doubted their truthfulness.

»»————-　♡　————-«

Soon the fall turned to winter which turned to spring. In the spring was when he asked you a huge question.

"Move in with me?" it was so soft, so gentle, and completely out of the blue. You were laying in bed on a Sunday morning, the sun streaming in through the large, open window, along with the cool, crisp air. Marcus had his coffee on the nightstand as he read the morning paper and you were laying on his chest, watching the morning news. It was the perfect slow, lazy morning.

"What?" you asked as you turned your face to look up at him, a confused expression on your face. Surely you hadn't heard him correctly...

"I asked if you'd move in with me," he repeated casually, flipping to the next page of the paper. He was putting on a cool façade, but the corners of his mouth were tugging into a nervous little smile.

"Do you mean it?" you asked softly, pressing a kiss to the soft, golden skin of his bare chest. He peeked over the paper and slowly nodded before you snatched it gently out of his hands and tossed it to the side, "really?"

"Of course," he grinned, "we already send most nights together, and half of your stuff is already here...I just think it makes sense. But if you'd rather not, or wait, I understand too."

"No," you said firmly, swinging your legs over him so you were straddling his waist. You leaned down and kissed him softly, his lips melding against your own, "I want to, Marcus. Really."

"Not too soon?" he asked as he gently stroked your cheek.

"Perfect timing," you promised, "its like you always say, everything happens as it should and when it should."

And so within the month you were moved into his apartment, now yours as well.

It was easy to fall into a daily routine with him. And getting to fall asleep and wake up next to your lover every day? It always seemed too good to be true.

»»————-　♡　————-«

The apartment that became your home soon turned into a small, quaint house that the two of you got together. Although the apartment had become yours just as much as his, this was the next chapter of your lives, which you were fully ready to embrace.

It had been two falls ago that you'd met Marcus, and while it had been your favorite season before, it most definitely was now.

You didn't know what you did to deserve Marcus, but you were so glad you did. Waiting for him had been entirely worth it.

"Catch up babe," you called to Marcus as he trailed behind you, a metal ladder tucked under his arm. Ever since your encounter with the rickety wooden ladder that you had falling into his arms and life, he'd insisted on a sturdy metal one.

"I'm coming," he promised, a smile on his face, his cheeks tinged pink from the cool breeze, "besides, I'm enjoying the view!"

"Cheeky," you slowed and waited for him to catch up, pressing a kiss to his cheek when he did so, "I love it. I love you."

"I love you too," he said softly as he leaned the ladder against the base of your favorite tree. The very tree you'd fallen from during your first meeting, "let me go and check the apples. They look promising this year."

"They'll make the best pies ever," you agreed as he slowly climbed up and took the buckets from you.

"May this year you'll teach me the secret recipe," he said as he disappeared into some of the leaves.

"Nope," you teased gently, "it's Nana's secret. Only family can know it."

"We're practically family," he laughed as he poked his head down to peer at you.

"That may be so, my love," you agreed, "but you have to make an honest woman out of me first. Nana's rules."

"Oh, I will," he promised as your cheeks flushed with warmth. You had meant it mostly as a joke, but there was something about the tone in his voice that suggested he wasn't, "I'm going to marry you."

"Oh yeah?"

"Mhmm," he insisted as he gently climbed down the ladder, landing on his feet with a small plop, "I am going to marry the hell out of you."

"Don't make promises you can't keep, Agent Pike," you teased as you traded places with him and got ready to climb the ladder to start picking your prized apples. He stopped you for a moment, his hand on your neck as he pulled you in for a passionate, but gentle kiss. It was the kind that still managed to steal the breath from your lungs and thoughts from your mind, even after two years. You hoped it always would. You were sure it always would.

"I would never do such a thing, sweetheart," he whispered against your lips, "now go and pick your apples. I'll be here to catch you if you fall. Always."

"My hero," you grinned before starting your ascent, already keeping an eye open for the best apples of all.

As you searched, you noticed that Marcus seemed to be uncharacteristically quiet. You decided not to worry about it, attributing it to tiredness and a late night...but if it continued on, you'd ask soon.

"Anything good?"

"Hmmm..." your brows were furrowed in concentration as you reached for a few partially obscured apples. But instead of the soft roundness you were used to, felt something square and almost velvety. A small sound of triumph escaped your lips as you grabbed it...but then you slowly lost your balance and felt yourself slipping from the ladder.

"Sweetheart!" just like he had before, Marcus gently caught you in his arms. You looked at him with a sheepish grin as you wrapped your arms around his neck, "are you okay?"

"Right as rain," you beamed, "I guess some things never change, huh?"

"I'll take a lifetime of catching you," he said softly, "what happened?"

"I felt something," you said triumphantly as you displayed the little square box. As you studied it, you quickly realized it was...a jewelry box, "what is...how did this..."

"Open it," Marcus insisted as he slowly set you back onto the ground. You looked at him with wide eyes as he nodded. You popped the box open slowly, your breath taken away almost instantly.

Nestled safely into a soft, black velvet cushion was a beautiful diamond ring. It was simple, almost understated but elegant, nothing too large and garish. It was your favorite cut and color, both of which you'd only mentioned to Marcus in passing. You never thought he'd remember...or were you expecting this.

"Marcus," you were struggling to hold back your tears as you looked between him and the ring, "this is...are you..."

"Sweetheart," he delicately took the box from your hands, and pulled the ring out as he got down on one knee. This was happening. This was actually happening. He let out a shaky breath as he reached for your hand, "I love you more than words can describe. You have made me so, so happy. The past two years with you have been the best, and I hope we have so many more of them. I'm glad you fell into my arms then and today. I will always be there to make sure you're safe. So, in order to learn your Nana's secret recipe and to make you an honest woman and me the happiest man, will you marry me?"

"Yes," it came out without hesitation, without a second thought or single reservation, "yes, I'll marry you. I love you so much, Marcus."

"Really?" he had been so sure that you wouldn't say no, but the fact that you had said yes relieved all of the remaining fears he had. You nodded fervently as a few tears rolled down your cheeks. He quickly slipped the ring onto your finger before reaching up and wiping the tears away.

"Of course," you promised as you grabbed his face and kissed him, "I love you so much, Marcus. Everything - you are everything."

"I think that's you, sweetheart," he wrapped his arms around and held you tightly against him, "thank you."

"For what?" you laughed lightly, "you're always saving me!"

"You've helped me in so many ways," he promised, "I never thought...I never tonight I could love like this again. More than I ever have..."

"Me too," you promised, "I felt like I was gonna have to wait forever...waiting for you. That's what it really was. It was worth it. You were worth it. It's like you always say, everything happens how it's supposed to, when its supposed to."

"Exactly," he whispered softly, "I am so in love with you."

"And I you," you kissed him again, lingering against his lips as you took in all of him, "now - help me pick these apples or we won't be able to bake pies."

"We?"

"I guess you can know the recipe now," you grinned, "we're family. We've been family already."

"But not married yet," he said as he held the ladder for you.

"Close enough," you grinned, "I love you, Marcus."

"I love you, sweetheart."

»»————-　♡　————-«

“So when are you going to give us grandchildren?” as soon as the words hit you, you almost dropped the fork that was halfway to your mouth. Your face instantly warmed up as you turned to Marcus, ready to profusely apologize to him for your mother’s ever so straightforward nature. There was a tinge of pink in his cheeks as he gave you a little smile, “you’ll have such beautiful babies!”

“Mom,” you turned to her with wide eyes as Marcus put his hand on your thigh, tracing gentle, soothing circles onto the material of jeans, “we’ve only been married a few months. There’s no rush and it’s none of your business when and if we do.”

“I’m just saying, honey-”

“Mom,” you groaned and silently pleaded for her to stop. For once in her life she appeared to understand what you were saying, “please.”

“You’re right,” she calmed herself down as she grabbed a glass of wine and quickly finished it, “it’s entirely your decision, when and if. Either way...I’m happy for you, both of you. You truly deserve it. I know it took a long time, but I’m so glad you found your sweet Marcus.”

“Me too,” you agreed, calming down ever so slightly, “he was worth the wait.”

“I had you falling for me from the start,” he teased as he looked at you with the sweetest eyes, and the silliest of grins.

“You’re the worst,” you proclaimed, unable to contain your own laughter, “but I’m glad for that rickety ladder, and the almost lost scarf. Look at what it got me - the best part of my life.”

“I love you,” he whispered as everyone around the table awed at the two of you.

“I love you too,” you replied softly as you turned back to your plate, “now let’s get onto something else. Who all is going to come and pick apples with me for the shop this weekend?”

»»————-　♡　————-«

“I’m sorry about all that,” you sighed, shaking your head at your mother’s antics as you walked hand in hand with Marcus to your favorite little dessert spot. It was late, but not too late, so you’d both decided that a little sweet treat was necessary. And you had something else on your mind that you wanted to tell him as well, and figured it was best to do so when it was just the two of you, “she’s a little much...a lot much.”

“Don’t worry,” he gave your hand a spot squeeze, “you know my mother is just as bad.”

“Yeah, but she doesn’t do it in front of half the family and basically ask when we’re going to have planned sex!”

“So we shouldn’t tell her we have sex all the time?” he gently nudged your side as a smile worked its way back onto your face. That was definitely not a lie...like everything between the two of you, the sex was good, very good, and plentiful.

“I’d rather not,” you chuckled, suddenly feeling nervous about sharing your news with him. Naturally the two of you had discussed the possibility of children, and it was something that the two of you both wanted, but were not in a hurry necessarily to get into. You weren’t actively trying to get pregnant, but you weren’t not trying to get pregnant. It would happen when it happened, the two of you had decided, and even the doctor had told you that it would sometimes take a while for it to happen, especially after coming off of birth control.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” he asked after a few moments of silence. You’d been so wrapped up in your own thoughts you’d noticed that he’d been talking this whole, until there was nothing but silence on your end, “you’re thinking much too loudly.”

“I was just…” you tugged on his hand and he stopped, giving you a concerned expression. It wasn’t like you to just fall into silence and shyness. Marcus gave you that soft smile you were a sucker for before reaching you and gently touching your cheek, “you know I love you, right?”

“Of course,” he said fondly, “and I love you, sweetheart. I thought that was kind of obvious at this point, but if I need to keep reminding you, I have no problem with that. I will do all day, every day.”

“I...I’m pregnant,” you blurted it out before you could chicken out and wait for a different time. You wanted to tell him, to share your nervous excitement with him, “I...surprise.”

“You’re pregnant?” he repeated, a million different expressions crossing his features as you nodded, trying to decipher his reaction. Gods, you hoped he wouldn’t be upset, or think it was too soon. While it was true you’d only been Mr. and Mrs. Pike for a few months, you’d been together for several years now. Surely, this wouldn’t be upsetting...but in the moment you were questioning everything, and suddenly felt sick to your stomach, “pregnant.”

“Yes,” you breathed out anxiously, “I found out a few days ago. I just...I was trying to find the right time to tell you. And then my mom...of course she’d ask now, and it just…everything feels so overwhelming and I’m so nervous and scared and I have no idea what I’m doing and I don’t want you to be mad or upset…”

“Mad?” he asked incredulously as he took your face in his hands, “I could never, ever be mad at you. Especially not with something like this.”

“You’re not upset?”

“No,” he promised, “I’m happy...so happy. This is wonderful news - the only other day that could compare was the day we met and you fell into my arms...or the day you said yes to marrying me...or our wedding. But this? This is amazing.”

“I just...I didn’t think it would happen so soon,” you admitted, “I just got off birth control and they told me it could take a while, and I thought we’d be fine with waiting, you know? Like it would happen when it would happen. And then boom - pregnant.”

“Everything happens just as it should,” he promised, closing the minuscule gap between your faces and pressing his lips gently to yours, “I love you, so much. Nothing is ever going to change that. Now it’s you, and our baby.”

He slowly slid his hand down to your waist and then over your still nonexistent belly, a small, contented sigh escaping his lips. You leaned into his touch, burying your face into his chest, “I love you so much. I’m so glad you’re excited, I am too. Nervous but excited.”

“And we’ll figure this all out together,” he promised, “you know I’m with you, every step of the way.”

“I’m so...I’m so lucky you’re in my life, Marcus,” you said softly, “you came along right when I needed you, when it was supposed to happen.”

“Like I always say, things happen as they should,” he wrapped his arms around you before kissing the crown of your head, “you have made me happier than I could have ever imagined. Just out of curiosity, how far along are you?”

“Almost nine weeks,” you admitted sheepishly, grinning at him. You could see him doing some quick math in his head, “yeah, I will admit I wasn’t the fastest on the uptake on that one.”

“Nine weeks,” he repeated, “so you got pregnant like right after you got off birth control.”

“Yeah,” you laughed lightly, “it didn’t take much at all. Guess that means we got lucky...or something. Who knows, maybe we’ll end up with a whole little gang of baby Pikes.”

“I’m not opposed to that idea,” his eyes practically lit up at the idea. You didn’t care if you ended up with one or more, as long as they were happy and healthy. But you wouldn’t complain about more either, especially if they took after Marcus. Marcus, the kind hearted, handsome love of your life. You kissed him softly, wishing this moment never had to end, “but we’ll take it as it comes.”

“Yes,” you agreed, “we can do it all together.”

“We’re a team,” he promised, “now, are you the two of you ready for some ice cream?”

“Sounds perfect.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

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#marcus pike #marcus pike x reader #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #the mentalist #SO MUCH FLUFF

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magnoliabloomfield · 3 years

Text

Possession 13

Nikola spent a lot of time in her room until her period was over, the boys were just too loud even when they didn’t mean to be annoying, and she was still a bit too embarrassed to face Gally. Not only had he helped her clean the blood from her sheets while he was shirtless, she’d also made that weird, hormonal declaration to him from her balcony. But she wouldn’t take it back either because it was true, Gally was just about the sweetest person in existence even if he did have a hardened exterior, or didn’t express himself with tremendous amounts of warmth. The things he did were always just right in his own unique way.

The attention most boys gave her felt meaningless since she was the only girl. It was hard to feel special without other options to be chosen from. Did they like her personality? Did anyone like her with their brains or their heart, or just their hormones?

She wanted to think Gally cared for her beyond the superficial, but she feared the day another girl would show up that he might like better than her, or they got out and there were so many to choose from, what if he didn’t really want her but was settling because she was all there was? But that’s how life was. A small world with one girl and one Gally.

She was supposed to work on some mending that day and went to Gally’s work bench for a pair of scissors. He wasn’t anywhere in sight even as she scanned extra hard for him. She did notice Shawn looking her way and quickly averted her gaze. She grabbed the scissors and looked for a scrap of paper to leave a note on. Gally didn’t like his things going missing, so she was going to let him know she had them and where she’d be if he really needed them back. As she searched she noticed something.

Moving some things out of the way she saw drawings, somewhere between a sketch and a doodle, and it was all of her. She was shocked at how good the drawings were, but even more shocked by how beautiful the artist seemed to think she was. She’d caught some glimpses in rusty mirrors and still water, she didn’t really look that good. She couldn’t fool herself, this was Gally’s table, Gally’s stuff, so it had to be Gally’s drawings. Honestly if he saw one of his builders doodling away he wouldn’t stand for it or keep it around.

She bit back a huge smile before she covered it back up and looked around for his to-do list, maybe that would tell her where to find him. But what would she do when she found him? Say ‘hey, I saw your drawings of me,’ …then what? She just wanted to see him, just be around him, even without a reason. When she did find him he was in the dead heads with the other builders looking for any trees that could come down, or branches for fires or tools. He was busy and there was no privacy, she couldn’t play off going to see him as anything but going to see him just because she wanted to.

~~~

At dinner Gally got a huge surprise. Nikola was sitting at his usual table. It felt like his heart did an extra big thump when he saw her there in the evening glow. He saw Newt make a dash for the table as fast as his limp would let him, looking ready to be entertained by Gally who he claimed was ‘totally whipped’, whatever that meant. They were saying hello to each other as Gally sat down across from her.

“Hey,” she greeted him with a smile in front of all the other boys. “Did you get my note about borrowing your scissors today?”

“Yeah, I did,” he nodded, glancing at Newt who was watching them like they were a compelling tennis match. “Thanks for putting them back.”

“I saw your sketches,” she said innocently enough but there was flicker in her eyes that made him freeze.

The sketches. The sketches of her, she saw them, oh crap.

“They’re really good, I think you could make a perfect greenhouse if you had the glass for it,” she went on, but her eyes told him she wasn’t really talking about the greenhouse. Strange too was that she didn’t seem bothered by it in the slightest.

Gally swallowed despite not having taken a bite of food yet. “Thanks. I like to plan ahead for future possibilities.”

“You never planned for this possibility,” Newt smirked as he pointed at Nikola.

Gally shrugged. “You can’t plan for everything.”

“Very true,” Newt admitted. “I mean, you were quite worried about the effects a girl in the glade might have, but nothing terrible has happened yet and you seem to get along thick as thieves.”

Gally gave Newt a hard stare.

“He does like to keep the chaos organized, doesn’t he?” Nikola conspired with Newt, a well meaning tone in her teasing. “Honestly, what would you do without him?”

“Better question is what you’d do without him,” Newt countered. He had spent enough time with her to realize who she fancied, no matter how stoic and subtle she tried to be.

“Oof,” she got a thoughtful look on her face. “Well, I’d be homeless.”

Newt laughed and even Gally cracked a smile.

“I might be under someones thumb, too,” she went on. “Without Gally advocating for me to get on the council. I wouldn’t have my swing!”

“Yeah, I heard about that,” Newt said looking right at Gally with an almost taunting grin.

“But all that sounds pretty terrible,” she waved it off. “It’s not just about the things Gally has done for me, or what I’ve gotten from him. He’s my best friend.”

“Is he now?” Newt asked in surprise that sounded more genuine than teasing. Meanwhile Gally could feel that he had gone absolutely, unsubtly red.

“He is,” Nikola smiled, looking at Gally as she answered Newt’s question, watching him adoringly as he bashfully avoided her gaze with red cheeks and ears as he pushed food around on his plate.

“I have bad news for you, love,” Newt sighed. “Gally’s best friend is me. Isn’t that right, Gally?”

Gally looked at him with one raised brow but didn’t say anything which Newt found very amusing in itself. But then Newt gave a sigh as if the fun was over.

“I know it’s- well actually I can only try to imagine how hard it is for you being the only girl here, and how there are so many normal and fun things you should be able to do… but this place is anything but normal. I get it, I don’t mind the fun and the teasing, but there are some who might. I know it’s not fair, but try to be a bit more careful. I really would hate to see either of you get hurt if someone got the wrong idea.”

Nikola looked thoroughly chastised even though Newt had spoken so soft and kindly.

“Right. You’re right,” she nodded as she looked down at her lap and bit her lips. She looked back up with just a ghost of the smile she was wearing before. “I guess I got away from myself there. I’ll have to work on that.”

Gally felt his heart sinking in his chest. He knew Newt was right but he didn’t want her to become reserved and shy away from him just to try and keep peace with some jealous shanks. She’d done all this just because she had seen his sketches of her, had he made her that happy to begin with?

“I guess I’ll go ahead and turn in then,” She said with a shine to her eyes that he hadn’t seen on her before, but he recognized it still because even boys cried.

She said goodnight and took her plate to the kitchen before heading to her house without looking back. It was all going on behind Gally’s back and he couldn’t look at her without making it obvious, but he watched Newt watching her, his longer hair hiding his gaze from others around him.

“I’ve gotten it all wrong haven’t I?” Newt sighed after Nikola disappeared from his view.

“How’s that?” Gally asked, suddenly not so hungry anymore.

“I think you’re the one who has her wrapped around your finger,” Newt clarified making Gally blush again against his will.

“I don’t,” Gally tried to argue quietly and just earned a disbelieving look.

“You best be very careful,” Newt warned. “No one says anything around you because they know you’re protective of her, and you can beat them to a bloody pulp, but there are some boys who would be very sore if she was taken. I know you can take anyone one-on-one but I don’t know if you could take them all at once, and I’m afraid it could come to that.”

“Who is saying what about Nikola?” Gally demanded.

“Oh god, it’s mutual pining,” Newt sighed to himself tiredly as he rubbed his face. “I’m not going to tell you that because you can’t act like you don’t know and you’d end up in trouble any way. For her sake and yours just tread carefully.”

“I don’t want things to go backwards. She trusts me, she knows I’d do anything to protect her,” Gally spilled without meaning to.

“If you’re willing to do anything than do this, just back off a bit when others are around,” Newt suggested.

When Gally didn’t say anything to that Newt just shrugged and took his dishes back to the kitchen. Gally sat there at his table alone, deep in thought and murky, unhappy feelings. He stayed there so long, Fry came over himself to take his dishes to the wash. He sat there till all the others had gone to bed, knowing his thoughts would keep him awake anyway.

~~~~~

A few days passed where Nikola and Gally did the last thing on earth they wanted to do and kept their distance most of the time. But when they did get a chance to interact they both made an effort to subtly assure the other that it wasn’t personal, that nothing had changed between them.

Nikola was sitting up in her house with various scraps of things arranged on her floor and was figuring out how to recycle them into something useful when Newt called up to her. She went out on her balcony and frowned when she saw his face.

“I need you to come with me,” he said apologetically. “It’s a gathering… of sorts.”

Her heart plummeted. She was shaking as she tried to go down her ladder and it made it difficult. She didn’t say anything as she walked with Newt, her mind racing with so many things at once and her stomach feeling twisted beyond untangling.

When she stepped inside she saw Alby, Gally, and Shawn. She narrowed her eyes slightly at the latter even though she was trying very hard not to give any of her emotions away. Gally didn’t seem happy with him either and Alby just looked completely impatient. Nikola just looked at him, not willing to say a word until she knew what was going on.

Alby reached out and handed her a piece of paper. “Did you write this?”

She looked at him doubtfully as she plucked the paper from his hand and then looked down to read it, immediately seeing it was not her handwriting before she took in what it said. “No, not my handwriting,” she said quickly and passed it back.

“Read it, will you?” Alby said as he pushed it back.

She sighed but complied.

“It’s time for me to wash my sheets, why don’t you come and help me get them real good and dirty first? It was so fun last time.”

She hid her disgust and tried to morph it into confusion instead. She looked at the boys standing around her. “What the shuck does that mean?” she asked Alby like it was Greek to her.

“Shawn says he saw you and Gally washing your sheets very late one night, and Gally wasn’t fully dressed. Said you seemed very… close,” Alby explained, glancing at Shawn who had clearly orchestrated this whole thing.

“And the first conclusion you jumped to was that we were screwing?” She asked Shawn directly, as flat as possible. “No wonder you faked a note, if that’s all you’ve got to support that theory.”

“She didn’t deny it,” Shawn pointed out smugly to Alby.

“Right, because I was up late one night, I was washing my sheets, and Gally was helping me,” She admitted easily. “That all happened because I started my period in the middle of the night and had to clean blood off myself, my clothes, and my sheets before the stains set.” Everyone but Gally looked uncomfortable as soon as she said period. “And before he tells you he saw me write this note to Gally, I did write Gally a different note about taking the spare scissors when I did the mending. I can get the med journal and show you an example of Shawn’s hand writing and my own if you want, but Newt also heard me talk to Gally about the scissors that day as well.”

Newt nodded to that and Alby threw an unhappy glare at Shawn’s now pale and unamused face. “I think we’re good here, you two can go,” He said to her and Gally, his gaze still fixed on Shawn.

Gally had fixed Shawn with a glare of his own and didn’t seem to be going anywhere, even as Nikola headed toward the door.

“Gally,” Newt said with a warning tone.

Gally let his arms uncross themselves slowly, eyes fixed on Shawn for as long as he could before walking away and following Nikola out the door.

She was out there squinting in the sun waiting for him.

“At least that was easy right?” she commented as they fell into step with each other. “I know that means it’ll only be worse the next time though. I’m sorry Gally-“

“You don’t have anything to be sorry for,” He blurted, some of his anger at Shawn coming out in his tone with her. He stopped in his tracks and took a deep breath to calm down, then looked up to see her anxious face staring up at him. “You have nothing to be sorry for,” he repeated more softly, “And neither do I. He’s an idiot, and I don’t care what else he does, you’re my friend and I’m yours and I won’t allow any amount of childish jealousy to change that.”

His fists were clenched and his heart pounded in his ears. Nikola’s eyes were wide and he saw her swallow before she nodded vigorously.

“Yeah, absolutely,” she agreed. “Same here.”

Neither of them realized what it would take to keep that promise to each other.

Masterlist

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#tmr #gally #tmr gally #gally imagine #fanfic #maze runner #maze runner gally #thirsting over gally's thick ankles #Will Poulter #Will Poulter protection squad

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lucefrs · 3 years

Text

tl;dr: luce thinks about how she should have never ended up at georgetown in the first place, and the domino effect it had on her life. after flunking out of gallagher, she savours the summer. her and scott break up sometime after new years. a quick onslaught of success makes her feel wary, unsure how to not take up space she doesn’t deserve after doing it so many times before. she performs her own song in the lower east side.

insp for the song she plays at the end.

BEFORE.

luce is a bright child but lacks in the area of self discipline and application. she would benefit from paying closer attention during class discussion.

she knew from a very young age that she was not smart. at least not by the metric that institutions measure by. the unlucky curse that has kept her in the stream of academia is this: luce frear is smart enough. to graduate secondary school because it’s a key that unlocks america’s golden arches. to pursue higher education when she gets the encroaching feeling that she’s going to be found out that she doesn’t actually have any family friend's as guarantors. at the time, she doesn’t know how impossible georgetown is. but finding herself in the company of a man who will pay for her to do well, with a tutor that makes the s.a.t’s boil down to a formula of memorization and deduction is a genius move. those three hours are brutal, she struggles but she struggles through it, proud that only a handful of questions were left unanswered. it’s only after she's sat for it that she realizes how impossible georgetown is with it’s fourteen percent acceptance rate.

she uses his mailing address to apply, so it’s him that greets her with a sealed envelope that makes her stomach turn as soon as she opens the door. out of the corner of her eye she sees a bottle of champagne sitting in a bucket of ice. she knows what the letter will say: her sat score’s a valiant effort, enough to get her into any state school, but by no means exceptional. bracing herself for his disappointment she pushes the folded paper towards him so she can pretend his disappointment’s directed at the words on the page and not at her. but the skin at the corner of his eyes pinches and there’s no crease between his brows and she knows something is very wrong. or very right. she’s not sure, at the time it’s all very muddled, thinking about how much she likes that there's no place for his smile to hide, and how that's going to be one of her favourite parts of getting old. his smile that runs right to the tip of his nose, bumps against her cheek when he kisses her. he’s kissing her. he’s happy. because of her. she’s made him happy. that's good. she's happy too. then he’s by the kitchen counter, shaking off the champagne from his hand that’s flows over the lip of the bottle and she’s saying things like, ‘ my sat scores were no where near the average, ’ and he counters that she shouldn’t disregard the importance of supplemental essays and she makes fun of how he talks because she always does. a girl’s got nothing but a gut to trust, and every glass of champagne’s a fuck you to it. luce never pukes from having too much to drink. she pukes in his shower. luce is not smart, but she’s smart enough not to question how she got into georgetown university.

‘ god, you’re so smart luce. we could call it the boyfriend guesses my lip gloss challenge. ’ she only hears the first part, boasting a smile that makes the apples of her cheeks swell, all rosy like. at the time gallagher had felt like a enticing romp, bound by infatuation, the glint of the dew that hung at the end of the school’s weeping willows sparkling so bright that her heart-shaped sunglasses couldn’t subdue it. luce has never waited for anything, but her first few months at gallagher felt like a gift the universe had hand-picked, oblivious of her christmas list doodled with music notes and brand names of dresses that cost seven hundred dollars, it felt like finding treasure. smart’s an understatement, genius is more apt. she lets this sentiment lead, when the offer to stay comes soaring towards at her like paper plane that falls right into the palm of her hands. it makes logical sense to stay. scott’s here.

she’ll adapt. but gallagher starts to feel worlds away, and as much as she digs her heels into the gravel, gravity starts to slip from her grasp. but how could she can complain? in outer space, anywhere she looks there’s an endless landscape of stars, bright and twinkling, beckoning her towards the nearly planet. but it makes her want to cry when she sees the blue-green dot recede into the distance.

PRESENT-ISH.

luce has her final exam tomorrow and she’s going to crush it. she’s so excited she can’t sleep. there’s no way she could fail it, unless she slept through it but that won’t happen because she has five alarms set and a scott for safe measure. she’s so excited her heart’s sprinting from her sternum to her stomach and it would be classified as nausea if she didn’t know it was just plain excitement. she winces at the brightness from her phone as she checks the time. 3:36. if she falls asleep in the next four minutes she’ll have a solid four hours, but as soon as she closes her eyes her heart runs like it’s just heard the start of the piston, and the percentage she needs to get in order to pass the class rings aloud and reverberates against her brain. forty six percent. she doesn’t even need to pass the exam in order to pass the class — she’s going to be a gallagher girl. whether she likes it or not. in the dark, her hand finds the nob of his bedside drawer, carefully sliding it open, her fingers tinkering inside to feel for whatever weed scott has, gifted joints or a prized gram for winning a dumb luck game. he always has something, even after he passes some of it on to seb. she doesn’t go far, slips out of his grasp and onto the lantern lit cobbled pavements, follows it strictly like she’s on a board in a game of snakes and ladders, stopping every time she takes a drag. she eventually falls against a bench like an abandoned rag-doll, limbs splayed every which way and falls asleep until she's woken up by the rev of a motorcycle engine set as her alarm. luce goes through the pre-test motions with due diligence, takes a shower and eats a proper meal, as though there's someone waiting to accuse her of self-sabotage. she picks up her tote that's packed from the night before and gives the test her all. it's not her fault that her focus wavered in five minute blocks, or that nerves make her feel as though there's an ongoing tussle in her tummy. she treats the residual high as something she couldn't possibly have controlled, it should've left her system by now. and she’s a hero for persevering through it. she tried her best. and in spite of it all, she still fails. thank god.

SUMMER.

she doesn’t want the summer to end. it does anyways.

INTERLUDE

she's not the type to tuck herself into the booth, but harper’s gone to the bathroom and luce has a gnarly blister on the back of her heel, and her head’s been swimming in cheap liquor all night with no reprieve. she can’t get her head above water for more than a minute before falling back under. her gaze catches a couple in the corner, slow dancing to david guetta and her lips curl into a wry smile, his lips cushioned against his neck, murmuring something she’ll never know, and then they’re laughing — maybe about the fact that they’re slow dancing to memories, or because they’re in love, everything’s funnier when you’re in love. a tiny giggle, lost to the boom of the speakers escapes her, because she’s so in love too.

i miss you. missing ur 🍆 spare nudes? 🙏🏼 ft? x

she holds down the backspace key and puts her phone away.

***

‘ i don't know how to miss you in the right way, ’ she says after a bout of silence, it makes her stomach lurch, like stepping off a ledge and finding the ground lower than expected. there’s no chance to blink back the tears, and she’s so in shock from what she’s just said that she makes no motion to cover her face from him, staring down the barrel of the webcam, like she’s on the brink of death. she’d give up the forty years of her life to get to the part where she can look back on this fondly, of a great love that once was. her child-like whimpers have her grappling for breath. ‘ it hurts. ’ she manages to sputter out, and she knows it’s hurting him too. eventually, luce will blink away the last of her tears, because she needs this picture to really believe it.

SOMETIME, SOME DAY.

she's not so much herself as she is everyone else. there are pieces of her in the crescendo of what billboard deems the song of the summer. she’s etched in the familiarity of the bass in the last song played before last call — the resonant thrum of waking up blacked out on the front lawn of an ex best friend. the producer that the lead singer can't function without. the origin story of a grammy nominated album which started on the fire escape, exiled by roaches, a guitar slung like a rifle entering the wild wild west of cicadas and greeted by an empty ashtray save for a half abandoned spliff. a story deified for late night talk shows with parrot hosts and their fake squawks. it’s all made up names in CD booklets that no one looks at anyways. it doesn’t make her an enigma, she has a wikipedia page. record labels take her out for lunch, and she goes because she likes people, even the kind who gawk at her pretty face, drooling at the dollar signs in her doe brown eyes and blonde hair. of course, they love her, a girl who orders salad but doesn’t skip dessert — a reluctance toward fame but endlessly optimistic about the future of the music industry, splits the bill and turns a handshake into a hug when they express their keen interest in working with her. there’s a twinkling note of laughter when she pulls away and says, ‘ you’ve never even heard me sing. i’m not good enough. ’ and she realizes with a twitch of bitterness that she doesn’t have to be, and things working out feels more like a curse when it isn’t deserved.

she talks but can't write unless it's in time signatures and treble clefs and if she does manage to write in a language comprised of letters ( which has only ever happened once ) she can't sing - unless it’s for boys she likes. so she poaches a voice, scrolling through the repertoire of people who have held her heart in their hands. her song is the last song of his set and it sounds like this. they smile through every note, she laughs at his falsetto in the last chorus. she plays her heart out with a vigour that leaves her palms moist, expecting that when the song ends there’ll be a silence broached by the slow clap of j.k simmons. luce lives in a movie and can feel the montage scene catch up to her. she can feel the lingering memory that never existed : a swollen belly and walls painted pink, a toddler that makes their white picket fenced garden a stomping ground, a cinematic pan across a fairy-lit paris, and night walks. when she looks over, she’ll see him, but she’s going to change the ending. her pinky hovers above the last key she played, letting the sound ring out into silence, before they’re met with fervent applause and whistles. this is the moment. luce looks into the crowd. she looks into the crowd and none of the faces are him because why would they be ? she hadn’t told anyone. the only person who knew was herself. it was hers. this moment is hers and she cradles it close, because she’s never had something of her own before. not really. but she likes the way it feels. the man who once held her heart in his hand kisses the top of her head and praises her with a plunging bow. she looks into the sea of strangers who watch her and she watches them back. this is the moment. hers alone. and she’s never felt less lonely.

#mb i will fill in the summer section one day but :3 Bt jst had 2 get this para out here twas growing mold :sob:#dunno if anybodys home bt jst want to reiterate what a pleasure its been 2 write w u all n tysm :')

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valhallanrose · 3 years

Text

What the Water Gave Me

In which Astoria unleashes something they cannot put back.

Astoria is nonbinary, and uses she/they pronouns interchangeably.

3.2k words. CW for discussions of blood. Also spiders. Fuck those.

Fic Title: What the Water Gave Me by Florence + The Machine

Lashes fluttering and a groan passing her lips, Astoria stirred in a darkened space, light beaming in from overhead and passing through the dust that they had kicked up from their fall. It swirled lazily above their head, settling on their clothes and making them sneeze the longer they laid there.

Where were they…?

As they carefully shifted each limb, assessing and determining they hadn’t broken anything - though their ass had certainly taken a hell of a hit when they fell, since their pack cushioned the rest of the blow. They began to work their way through the last things they remembered before they found themselves very much not on the surface they had started the day on -

Ah, right.

Astoria had been traveling with their grandmother into the Bulan mountain range with a few other archaeologists, and they decided to split up to grid out the areas of interest that they would spend the next few weeks investigating. And despite being the youngest of the group at a mere sixteen, they’d insisted they could map out a portion of the valley, given permission hesitantly by Granny with many, many promises that they would be careful and not stray past where they’d been told to go.

And then they fell directly into a hole within the first ten minutes, as well as knocking themself out for a little while as the cherry on top.

Lovely.

Sighing heavily, Astoria got to their feet, assessing the broken wood around them and turning it over in their hands with a critical eye. Granny Myrna had always taught them to be observant, after all, and the glasses weren’t just for show.

“So this was probably...a wooden door or panel of some kind, and the grass grew over it over time...no wonder. Shit’s so rotted I doubt it would hold a sparrow.” They mused, dusting their shirt off with one hand in hopes of cleaning off a corner large enough to wipe off the lenses of their glasses. “But why...?”

They blinked a few times, shielding their eyes with one hand to try and adjust to the darkness, before audibly gasping and taking a few steps out of the light.

A tunnel, lined with stone to create a long-standing hallway that led further into the darkness. It smelled...musty, and damp, and there was definitely some sort of fungus growing on the walls, but to Astoria, it might as well have been bricked with solid gold. And as much as they wanted to explore now, the right thing to do was to wait, because she didn’t have half the equipment she needed to go on a deep survey of the area that she should have - so with a resigned sigh, they turned around to assess the other side of the space.

A ladder was secured to the wall, and Astoria took a few steps closer, placing one foot on the lower rung in hopes that maybe it had been spared the effects of time -

Nope.

As soon as they placed one foot on the rung of the ladder and lifted themself up to climb to the next, the first rung crackled and snapped under her weight, making her yelp as she fell the short distance back down to the ground.

Slowly, Astoria groaned, letting their head fall back and assessing the fact that the opening they’d fallen through was still a good three feet out of reach - meaning they were very much stuck in that hole.

With a resigned sigh, Astoria kicked aside a few pieces of broken wood and sat themself firmly in the patch of light they had in hopes that it would make her easier to find. It might take a while, but...well, they were patient, and they’d been smart enough to at least pack a book into their satchel. So, they did just that, pulling open the covers and burying her nose between the pages as she began to wait.

And wait...

And wait.

The sun passed overhead and cast shadows down into Astoria’s patch of light, moving across the sky as she let herself get lost in stories of kings and queens and knights of the round table until she couldn’t read the lines on each page no matter how hard she squinted.

They tipped their head back and startled slightly at the realization that the sky was no longer clear blue, but painted with rosy hues and streaks of violet, meaning the sun was already dipping well below the horizon. And...they were still stuck, in this hole, with no way out.

Already they could feel their chest beginning to tighten as they quickly tucked their book away and got to their feet.

They hadn’t heard anyone calling, nor had anyone actually looked into the pit...and it was getting dark, which usually was the time everyone settled in to camp. But if they hadn’t come for her...maybe something had happened to them, too.

No. No, she couldn’t panic, couldn’t let her nerves get the best of her. If waiting wasn’t working, she’d just have to find her own way out. Rationally, if this were some kind of building or structure, it was more than likely that there would have been more than one entry or exit point. The point where she fell in was one, so...perhaps there was another way out somewhere else. And if the structure was too small, maybe she’d find something to at least boost her out of this damn hole.

They reached for their satchel, unhooking the small oil lantern that swung from the side and digging around for the matches they’d buried beneath god knows what in said bag. The key turned once, twice...and then the lantern sparked to life, illuminating a small space around Astoria with a comforting amber glow.

They raised the lantern higher, the light dancing on the lenses of her glasses for a moment before they looked beyond the flame.

In the daylight, the tunnel had seemed ripe for exploration, its shadows beckoning to Astoria’s sense of curiosity and practically begging her to venture deeper. But now, when the light was dying overhead...something settled heavily in their cut, making them wonder if they were truly making the right decision.

But they had to try. If nothing else, they had to try.

Squaring their shoulders and taking a deep breath, Astoria nodded to themself, blowing a few strands of hair out of their eyes as they took the first step forward.

“Right. Here we go.”

* * * * *

The complex was certainly bigger than they’d accounted for.

At the first turn, they’d dug into their back for a charcoal pencil, making a small mark on the stone wall to indicate which way they’d come. One turn led to another, then to another, long halls melting into winding staircases they took with great care to make sure they didn’t eat rocks on the way up. But no matter how far they went, it seemed that they found more to explore, and not necessarily the exit they wanted. They’d thought continuing up would mean more chances of finding one, but...it seemed luck was not with them.

They sighed heavily as they marked another corner, considering now that the smart thing to do would be to turn back and go back to where they started to keep from getting lost, but...the idea of giving up also left something bitter in Astoria’s mouth.

One more turn, they decided, and then they’d make their way back. If they didn’t find an exit then, that’d be the end of their exploration for the night. They needed rest, and tomorrow would be another day.

Astoria turned left, the only sounds to accompany her being the quiet crackling of the wick and the heels of her boots thumping on stone as she made her way down another long hallway. She came to another intersection a few moments later, huffing to herself as she realized that she was getting nowhere, and was about to turn on her heel and walk back when a crosswind came whirling down the hall behind her.

Astoria froze mid-stride, head whipping back to listen and hair flying away from her face as she stepped into the crosswind’s path.

Wind...underground. Which meant there was an opening somewhere nearby, which probably was what let the wind in and funneled it down the hallway she now stood in. Hope rising in their throat, they quickly set off down the hall, walking into the wind before breaking into a full sprint to find the source of the wind.

The hall seemed endless in those few moments but eventually, it dumped Astoria into what she thought for a moment was a cavern, but the longer she looked...she realized it was a sort of rotunda. Or chamber, perhaps? It was wide, with a domed ceiling, the whole room seemingly centered around an oculus carved into the ceiling and angled to allow ample visibility to see the moon. The room was...strange, certainly, but she wasn’t too focused on the shape.

As she stepped inside, something gleamed under the light of her lantern, making her step closer to the wall and raise the light closer with a critical eye - only to nearly drop her lantern at the same rate as her jaw.

Gold leaf, somehow spared the effects of time, painstakingly laid over armor of warriors from ages past. Their weapons were raised, and the movement of Astoria’s light revealed they were frozen in conflict with enemies in silver-plated armor to their gold and swords to their spears. Slowly, they began to walk the rotunda’s upper platform, guiding their light across its surface to take in the scenes before them.

They passed mosaics of bloody battlefields, burning villages, bodies aflame or decrepit with illness unknown - passed images of priests and priestesses mid-prayer to animal-headed figures that seemed to give no mercy, and then…

Astoria stopped at one of the murals, raising their lantern higher to try and take it all in even as it stretched far above their head.

Before, the animal headed figures had been those of foxes and owls, serpents and stags, but...this one was a goat. A dual set of obsidian horns rose up from its white-furred head, eyes crimson and face marked with black - for some reason, despite its unfamiliarity, it sent a chill down Astoria’s spine.

They guided the lantern down, revealing a black stole and a crimson stained throne where the goat-headed figure sat in profile, gazing down upon a person kneeling prone before them. Idly Astoria recognized the similar headdress to those of the priests and priestesses in an earlier panel, but the distinctive features were rubbed away, the only victim to time that they’d found thus far. Astoria moved the lantern again, only to pause when the light cast a long shadow over part of the mural they stood before.

Astoria moved the lantern back, watching the shadow move until their eyes fell upon the skull embedded in the wall, placed in the distorted figure’s raised hands in offering to the goat-headed one. They let out a noise of contemplation as their fingers brushed over the edges of the skull, feeling where the back portion of the skull had been embedded into the wall -

Only to scream loudly and nearly throw her lantern down as a spider crawled from the bleached eye socket and crawled over her fingertips when they passed down the bridge of the skull’s nose.

“Bloody spiders!” They yelped, swiping their hands over their arms, their legs, every inch of their body that they could reach. “Useful you might be, but you eight-legged bastards can fuck right back off to the hell you came from, crawling all over like that.”

Skulls were familiar. She’d been in plenty of burial mounds and crypts by then, knew the value of human bones for what insight they could provide to the scholar studying civilizations long since turned to dust. Bugs and similar creatures were also familiar and a topic of interest, but that didn’t mean she was perfectly okay with them popping out of nowhere and scaring the living daylights out of her.

They huffed, bangs flying up out of their face as they tried to settle themself, then gasped as they looked down toward the lantern at their feet.

“Oh, no, no no no - god damn it.” She muttered, using a booted foot to nudge the glass about as she assessed the damages and winced as the fragments crunched under the soles of her boots. It was completely shattered, unsalvageable by all accounts, which meant...which meant she had no light to lead her back the way she came.

The last embers flickered and died on the wick as it laid against the stone, and Astoria found herself plunged into near complete darkness.

Though full and bright, the moon did not cast enough light from where it shone through the oculus for them to truly understand where they were. They carefully reached for the stairs that would lead them down into the ‘pit’ they’d seen before but not observed, thinking perhaps they could find something wood to ignite - their preservationist heart cried at the idea of destroying a possible artifact, but this was a matter of survival - something somewhat forgivable in their own perspective, but that didn’t mean they had to be happy about it.

Feeling their way down the steps and around the ledges, they searched for something, anything made of wood, growing more and more frustrated as they found only clay and stone and tile - only to jump and yelp when they took another step down and liquid splashed up their calves and soaked into their boots.

Once she got over the surprise, Astoria let out a laugh, plunging her hands into the water beneath her feet and letting it flow between her fingers in the dark. She thought that the oculus must have allowed for the rainfall to gather, and the water had no smell, meaning it probably wasn’t stagnant or otherwise gross...and for a moment, everything seemed like it would be alright.

Astoria didn’t notice the way the room seemed to shift as she plunged her hands in again, hundreds of stone eyes boring into the back of her neck as her sleeves became drenched and her boots finally flooded with the weight of the water she now stood in. A smile pulling up the corners of her lips, she raised cupped hands to her lips and drank deeply from the water in her palms -

She wasn’t sure why it took her a few moments to process, in hindsight, but she knew from the moment the water passed her lips that something was very wrong.

It was the copper tang, first, quickly overtaking Astoria’s senses to fill their mouth with the taste of hot iron rather than the cool water they’d been expecting. They choked, clasping hands over their mouth to try and keep the quickly rising bile down, but everything burned. Their eyes filled with tears as they tried to stumble out of the pool, collapsing on the edge as searing pain in their chest sapped them of strength.

They fought for consciousness for what felt like hours, blinking up at the moon through a haze of tears, realizing that something in the water must have been toxic and they’d been so stupid as to drink without thinking - and now they were fairly certain they were going to die.

You are so much younger than those who came before you.

Astoria tried to lift their head, but an unseen hand smoothed across their hair, coaxing them into relaxing again as their hand found the person’s and squeezed tightly in desperation to hold onto something, anything that might help keep them grounded as it felt like fire licked across every inch of their skin.

“Help me.” They breathed, tears trickling down their cheeks. “Please...please, help me.”

The pain will ease soon, little one. It always does. But I cannot help you - the only way out of this is through it now.

Astoria was about to try and ask what they meant before the heat intensified, searing behind her eyes and making their lungs feel as if they were melting in their chest. The scream that passed their lips as their back arched up off the stone to a near breaking point was so shrill they could hardly hear it in their own ears, thrashing violently but unable to move as it felt as if two hands pressed down with bruising force on the slopes of their shoulders -

And then there was nothing, only the pitch-black nothingness of merciful unconsciousness that came to claim them as they lay in the pool.

* * * * *

When Astoria awoke again, their eyes met the clear blue sky for a few moments before the tear-streaked face of Myrna leaned into their view and pulled them heartily into a near crushing embrace.

“Oh, thank the gods.” Myrna breathed, her fingers smoothing over Astoria’s tousled hair. “You’re alright, my darling, you’re alright. You’re safe now.”

“Who…?” Astoria managed, but Myrna shook her head, pulling back to look them in the eye and give their shoulders a squeeze.

“Not now. Rest. We’ll talk about it later, I promise, but...I’m sure you’ve had a very, very long few days.”

Myrna pulled Astoria in again, whispering prayers in their native tongue to all who might listen, but their eyes had fallen to their lap - to the ruddy brown stains on their clothes and dried blood caked into the folds of fabric, the creases of their hands, even the ends of their hair that they could see out of the corners of their eyes. They turned their head, spotting the bruises peeking out from under the collar of their shirt, realizing with a tremor of terror that the crushing feeling hadn’t been their imagination.

And granny said a few days...days? How could she not remember a single thing after what happened at the pool, not remember how she’d found her way back out or how the others had found her?

A familiar voice, sweet as honey and deep as a river all at once, rose up from the depths of her mind as if in answer to a question she was too afraid to voice.

It would have done our partnership no good if you were to perish in the labyrinth. And how I have longed to breathe the mountain air again…

The voice chuckled, stroking a loving hand down her mind as if to ease her into slumber. Her lashes fluttered, and Astoria felt themself fighting sleep they did not want.

It has been...so long since another has taken the boon. In time, I will answer your questions, but for now...all you need know is that you may call me Agrippa.

And as Astoria unwillingly fell into slumber again, one thought prevailed on their mind, even when the world fell away and dreams rose up to catch them -

What had they done?

#astoria fenharrow #my writing #blood cw

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rhinotheamazing · 3 years

Text

One side, Two lives

Chapter eight

Dam that Nerd

Warnings: swearing, description of slight gore

First Previous Next

Logan was up pretty early, but that wasn’t too weird for him. As much a he stressed the importance of a good sleep schedule and how one’s body needs rest, the actual thing often alluded him. His mind was just so hard to turn off sometimes, so he usually just decided to keep working on whatever he was previously before he tried to go to bed. So, it being somewhere around three am, the logical side decided it was the perfect time to get some coffee in his spaced theme pjs.

As he walked half dead to the kitchen he was rather surprised when he saw Roman siting on the counter. He wasn’t looking at his phone or anything, he was just staring off into space scowling as if he lost an argument. This left Logan rather confused but he continued forward. As soon as he took a step the prince turned to him and gave him a tired nod of recognition which Logan returned. The logical side went over and started preparing his usual coffee, he didn’t even think as he started grabbing the ingredients.

He decided that he might as well strike up conversation since he was here.

“I’m surprised to see you up this early.” He said. Roman shrugged.

“ I could say the same to you.” The creative side countered. Logan nodded at that.

“Fair enough, my I mind was just awake and it wouldn’t go back to sleep. You?” Logan said as the water started heating up.

“Same”

Logan looked over at Roman and squinted in a curios manner. Roman had wrapped his arms around himself as he had said that, though he had tried to hide it by making it look like he just crossed his arms, the logical side defiantly saw. People often do that when there uncomfortable or when their lying, but why would Roman lie? Logan thought to himself.

Roman noticed the stare and raised an eyebrow in question.

“Take no offense but I don’t quite believe you Roman.” Logan stated. The creative side rubbed his arm, he thought that he had done a fairly good job at lying, though he was pretty tired.

“Just, dreams.” The red side said vaguely. Logan didn’t push for answers. He looked over and saw that the coffee was done.

“Would you like a cup?” Logan asked. Roman nodded and the glasses wearing side grabbed a red mug from the cabinet that had a little yellow crown on it. Logan put at least a bucket of sugar into his own coffee and Roman’s eyes went wide.

“How on earth can you have that much sugar?” Roman asked as Logan took a sip.

“It’s not that much.” Logan said while rolling his eyes.

“I bet that you could scoop out a spoonful of sugar even after you stirred it.”

“Well what am I supposed to do, drink it black? Straight black coffee is disgusting!” Logan exclaimed. Roman on the other hand, smirked, and chugged his entire cup of black coffee in one go. The logical side shook his head.

“I don’t understand you one bit.” Roman shrugged at that. The creative side got off the counter and stretched.

“Well, I’m going to try to get a tiny bit of sleep before caffeine kicks in. Bye specs.” Roman said with a wave.

Logan waved and went back to his room. He grabbed a book to read but even with the coffee and sugar he still found himself falling asleep.

*time skip.

Logan was able to get a few hours of sleep before he woke up to his alarm that he forgot to turn off.

“Back to the real world I suppose.” He said in a grumpy tone. The logical side started getting ready for the day and looked over at the clock. It’s six thirty so Patton should be making breakfast for everyone. I don’t really understand it but he’s says its good for family bonding. The now tie wearing side headed out of his room and into the living room, only to find Patton doing what looked like, was that homework?

“Patton? You realize that Thomas graduated many years ago correct?” Patton turned around to face Logan.

“Yah kiddo, just looking back on some of his old notes and doodles. I figured that we could try to have a nice relaxing day so I decided to look back on some old memories.” Logan looked over the fatherly sides shoulder and saw that these notes were from Thomas’s high school days. There was a lot of doodles of stars in the corners of papers that made Logan smile.

“Oh! By the way there’s some pancakes in the microwave. I woke up a little early so breakfast is already done.” Probably not as early as me or Roman. Logan thought. He went over to the kitchen and grabbed to pancakes. Looks like Patton wanted to switch things up a bit by making blueberry. He went to grab the fridge and grabbed some boysenberry berry sirup.

“Did you tell the others of your plan to have a “chill day”?” The fatherly side nodded

“Yup! Virgil came out for some breakfast and I told him and he told Roman.” Logan nodded and walked back to his room.

A chill day huh? That could be nice, maybe I can get some of my own projects done or read up on some astrology. After he finished his breakfast Logan grabbed the book he was planing to read last night. It was a sci-fi novel that takes place on earth. Certain humans have evolved and are trying to take down humans that have turned the world into a cruel dictatorship. It was a fun read in Logan’s description, but sadly he had only gotten through six chapters before he heard a knock on the door.

He sighed and stopped reading his book to answer the knock. Logan was surprised when he opened his door just to see Remus standing there with a nervous smile.

“Remus? I mean this in no offensive way but what in the world are you doing here?” The logical side asked

“Um, well, I was wondering if you wanted to go to the imagination with me. The snake is busy and I can’t bother Roman since he’s working double time so he’d just kick me out of his room. So that’s why I am here.”The dark side proclaimed while he tried to hide how nervous he was. Logan raised an eyebrow.

“What would we do in the imagination?” The logical side asked, he would like it if there was some sort of plan before he went into a literal ever changing world.

“Well I was thinking we could go for a walk in the mystical forest. There are a lot of weird creatures that I thought you might want to document. You don’t have to come if you don’t want to.” Remus said, the whole time looking anywhere but Logan. When his eyes eventually did come back the the light side in front of him Remus eyes widened in slight aw at the look on Logans face. He looked so excited and happy, the last time he looked like this was when he got his very own jelly flavor. Logan, smile still on his face, slammed the door shut.

Remus was worried that he said the wrong thing before the logical side re opened the door holding a large notebook and a pencil case, now wearing a space t-shirt. Said side seemed to realize that he was very out of character and straightened his posture and tried to keep his face in a bit more neutral expression, but there was still a small smile on his face.

“Um, that sounds very intriguing Remus. I would greatly like to accompany you.” Remus face lit up at that.

“Great! Come on!” The creative side grabbed Logan’s hand and practically dragged him to the dark side of the mind palace. Remus threw open his door and it nearly fell of it’s hinges. He suddenly remembered how much of a freaking mess his room was. For Pete’s sake everything still had some pink glitter on it!

“Um sorry for the mess, try no too impale your foot while you walk.” Remus warned, he had ended up being stabbed too many times to not think there was some sharp object in this pile of rubbish. He methodically walked over to the back left corner of his room where a small trap door laid. He opened it and there was a ladder leading into darkness. He looked over at the light side carefully making his way across the room. When he actually got to the other side he peered down into the darkness under the floorboard.

“Is this your door to the imagination?”

“Yup! Both me and Roman have them in our rooms, his is in his closet or something. Come on!” The more chaotic of the two said as he started climbing into the darkness. The glasses wearing side was a bit more hesitant but he eventually started climbing the ladder. He was surprised when he went thought the door the area was actually doused in a lime green light.

He looked around the room and took in his surroundings. The walls were made of old grey stones. The was a lot of furnitures that would have looked like they belong to an incredibly wealthy person if it weren’t for the holes and tears in the fabrics. There were also two big windows that had stain glass of morbid battle scenes on them. Although the entire area had a dark and creepy vibe, there was an odd beauty to it. He saw Remus standing on a balcony that laid between the two windows.

Logan walked over to the green side, still taking in all the details of the room.

“Remus this place is truly incredible.” Logan said. He looked over at the taller of the two and saw how happy he was. Hmm, he probably doesn’t get a lot of compliments, I’ll need to remember that. Logan thought worriedly.

“Thanks nerd. But you haven’t even seen half of the imagination yet.” Remus said with a smile and gestured to the view in front of them. Around the castle past the mote rested the largest forest the logical side had ever scene. He couldn’t see any details from where he stood but even with his not so great eyesight he could see that some of the trees were at least three stories tall. There was a bit of rain but it wasn’t enough to be unpleasant.

“You made all this?” Logan said, going to the edge to just get a bit of a better look.

“Kinda, the forest was made by both me and Roman but the creatures that are nearer to my castle are more aggressive or like it darker. But I guess most of the stuff on this side was made by me.”Remus said. He hadn’t really thought about the creations in the imagination being his or Roman’s.

“It’s quite magnificent.”

Remus would deny to his grave that he blushed in that moment.

“Well, um, how about we go see it up close.” The dark side said. Logan was able to keep his straight face but there was a just a hint of a smile there.

“Ya, lets go.” The two started descending the winding stairs. Said stairs had no rails and it would be incredibly easy to fall down. Remus was completely used to the feeling of nearly falling but it often scared anyone else that came down. He looked back at Logan to make sure he was ok but he was, doing completely fine? The logical trait was walking as if he couldn’t fall and break his neck in one wrong move. Remus had to admit he was kinda impressed.

Meanwhile Logan was still taking in his surroundings once they got to the bottom of the castle. There where a lot of tapestries and blood red curtains lining the walls and an elegant yet dusty chandelier hung from the ceiling. The two walked to the large door, which should have defiantly taken at least five full grown men to open even though Remus pushed it open with one shove. As Logan was trying to figure out how physics worked in this world the drawbridge started lowering so that they could cross through mote.

The logical side was still going over the math in his head when a giant tentacle emerged from the mote and picked him up.

“What in the world!” Said side exclaimed as he was lifted into the air.

“Moly! Put him down right now! Logan isn’t a toy!” Whatever was in the water grumbled(or that’s what Logan assumed since large bubbles came from the water). The green tentacle put him down and a what looked like an octopus started to rise from the mote and started toward the creative side.

“Look Moly it’s completely fine to chuck Roman around as much as you want but you have to be a tiny bit nicer to new people so that they stick around long enough to torture.” Remus said with a crazy smile.

Stick around for torture? Logan thought as he adjusted his outfit after being handled like a rag doll by a giant octopus. I wonder how many people can say that, well, supposedly Roman has gotten off even worse. The octopus, Moly, grumbled a bit and gave what Logan could only assume was a nod of sorts. Remus patted the creature on the head and it sunk back down into the depths of the water.

“Heh, yah good old Molly really likes to play with new people. You should have seen Deceit when he first met her, it was freaking hilarious” Remus said as he laughed cruelly. The blue side rolled his eyes and continued walking down the drawbridge. The two started into the woods and Logan immediately pulled out his notebook. There were thousands of odd creatures swarming the area. Glowing centipedes, birds with more eyes than arachnids and lots of creepy little rodents. The trees where twisted and the majority of them had spikes or vines on them. Logan didn’t think he could write about these organisms fast enough.

Remus found it both endearing and funny as the logical side kept turning in every direction to find the creatures that scurried into the undergrowth to get away from the two giants.

“Haha! If you keep turning your head like that it’s going to snap and I’ll have to hide your body.” Remus said. What, just because he was trying extra hard to be nice didn’t mean he could just turn of his gore ridden mind.

“It would actually be pretty easy to dispose of a body here. Forest are definitely ideal for hiding anything, plus’s if you wanted you could burn the body with ought anyone seeing.” Logan said, his eyes still wandering the forest. Meanwhile Remus was fairly sure he just fell in love.

They kept onward into the forest, occasionally seeing much larger creatures. They passed a heard of feline like creatures that were just slightly larger than full grown male lions and Logan nearly jumped out of his skin. Though he did relax some when Remus went to pet there multi colored manes and the creatures started purring. When Remus suggested that they ride said creatures to whatever place he was leading the logical side too, Logan was rather hesitant. Seeing this and being probably the most spontaneous side in existence, Remus grabbed Logan’s arm, hoisted him onto the beast so that he sitting behind the manic man, and the feline took off.

Logan, ever so slightly scared out off his mind, clung onto Remus’s back. Remus tried his very hardest not to be distracted by this and run into a tree, that would have really hurt the Suzan’s head. Suzan was a a mixture of different creatures including cheetah, lion, leopard and lizard, though Remus decided to give them a more interesting color scheme of purple and rainbow. Now because of all this Suzan was exceptionally fast and their surroundings practically zoomed past them.

When the equivalent a rollercoaster ouster ride was over, Logan felt like he was about to fall over from dizziness. He had a death grip on his glasses and notebook for the entire time so that they wouldn’t get lost in the woods.

“Please warn me next time you pull me onto a strange magical beast.” Logan said as he shot a glare at Remus who seemed completely fine.

“Noted” he replied. Now that the logical side could put his glasses back on, he looked around at the mysterious area. He saw that they now stood in a clearing, the rain now able to get to them since the leaves where no longer covering the two. In the center of the clearing was a large lake, and even though the sky was grey the entire area looked absolutely beautiful.

“Pretty cool right? The lake is a lot deeper than it looks, I think there’s about three underwater caves down there. It actually gets so dark at the bottom that there are a few creatures I themed after the angler fish. The teeth are really cool in my opinion.”

“Cool indeed.” The logical side said as he went closer to the water and peered into it. You could see such a unique ecosystem in just the lake alone that Logan was fairly sure that he could write a whole book about it.

“I wouldn’t get to close,” Remus said with his usual grin, “some of the creatures here aren’t to friendly.” At that little reminder the blue side took a step back. He noted that it was a bit harder than it should have been since the grass seemed to cling to his sneakers. Is everything in this forest alive? The logical side wondered as he shook out his foot.

He looked around and saw that Remus was sitting under a large tree that was glowing a soft green. He had a sketchbook in his hand and seemed to be furiously sketching something in it. Logan was to far to see so he went over to the shade.

“What are you drawing?” He asked, slightly leaning over the others shoulder. The creative side seemed to startle a this and hid the notebook behind his back.

“Nothing much.” Remus said trying to seem nonchalant . This only made the shorter of the two more curious. He raised an eyebrow at the the green side, said person rolled his eyes and moved his sketchbook into view. On the page was a drawing of a random person, or to be more precise, a person in pierces.

The drawing showed someone with each of their limbs cut off and hanging somewhere on the paper. Their head was also severed and had a look of horror on its face, its hair seemed to have movement so Logan assumed that the image was supposed to take place directly after decapitation.

“From what I know light sides don’t really like to see anything related to gore.” Remus said with a grin which looked ever so slightly forced.

“I suppose that is usually the case. By the way the muscles are incredibly accurate, though if you wanted to add something for extra drama you could have a few blood drops flying in the same direction the head is going.” Logan said while adjusting his glasses. Remus looked at him wide eyes.

“I gotta say nerd I’m surprised you’re not put off by any of this.” The dark side said with a chuckle. Logan shrugged.

“Gore isn’t really my forte but I don’t see anything wrong with someone else enjoying it, as long as they don’t try to make the real things.” Logan said giving the duke a small smirk. Remus blinked at him.

“Did you just smirk?” He asked. The logical side straighten his posture.

“I have no idea what you mean.” He said in a monotone voice.

“You so very much did.” “Do you have any proof to your claim?” Logan said giving the other a raised eyebrow. Remus, now standing with his sketch pad tucked away, crossed his arms and pouted. Logan gave him a small smile.

“That’s what I thought.” As the side finished his sentence there was a crack of lighting and the rain started picking up speed.

“Well I guess we should probably head back unless you want to be soaked and ruin your notebook.” Remus said, heading towards where Suzan and her pack was laying down. Logan nodded and headed over to the beasts. Once Suzan was more awake and ready to run Remus jumped on her back and petted her fur.

“You ready to be pulled onto a strange magical beats?” Remus said in a bit of a mocking tone. Logan sighed but nodded and immediately after felt himself be pulled onto the creature.

“Ok, lets go Suzan, try to run a little slower this time so you don’t slip in the mud.” Remus instructed the feline who gave a small roar in response. The pack took off and Logan was a bit more comfortable this time, though he still needed to hold onto Remus so that he didn’t fall off. Then a thought came.

“Wait, the cat’s name is Suzan?” The logical side asked.

“Yup. A good name in my opinion. She’s the leader of the pack.” Remus said proudly. Logan hummed in response. Before he knew it they were back at the castle and another strike of thunder came.

“Thanks for giving us a ride, you should probably head towards your cave now that the storms gotten worse.” Remus said as he gave the cat like creature a few scratches behind the ear.

“Yes thank you Suzan.” Logan said and pet her mane. She purred a bit at this and then took of with her pack following close behind

“Come on nerdy Wolverine, move faster or I’m just going to leave you here.” Remus said, already half way across the drawbridge.

“If you actually left me I could still find my way back to the trapdoor now that I know where it is.” The logical side pointed out as he caught up to the taller of the two. Remus smiled widely.

“Good luck with that. The castle is an ever changing maze that only I can navigate. It’s like a giant puzzle and I have the answer sheet” The creative side said smugly. Logan scowled.

“I guess that would make things a bit harder. But then again who doesn’t like a good puzzle.” The logical side said as he followed the duke up the staircases.

Admittedly it was kinda hard since Logan usually stayed at his desk most of the day. Note to self, start exercising more, The logical side grumbled in his head. Once they got to the top the teacher character was practically exhausted, but he still found some strength to climb up the latter back into the chaos that is Remus’s room.

The two walked back to Logan’s room in silence. It was a nice comfortable silence but Logan was honestly a little surprised that the duke even could stay quiet for so long. Once the two were at the logical sides door they stoped. Remus scratched the back of his neck nervously.

“Um, it was fun showing you some of the stuff in the imagination Logan.” The duke said, not entirely sure what to say. “If you ever want to get out of the mind palace or want to explore the creepy and unknown just give me a nock.” Remus’s smile was a mix of both nervous and awkward because: who says ‘just give me a nock’?! That was a stupid move fucking dam it!

While Remus was stressing about this in his brain Logan had bit of a surprised look on his face before it turned into a soft smile.

“Yah, that would be nice. Thank you Remus.” Remus blushed a bit. Dam fucking nerd has to smart and cute? He’s going to kill me the bastard.

“No problem dork, see yah later.” The creative side said and started walking away. Logan was half way though his door way before remembering something.

“Hey Remus.” The dark side turned around. “Thanks for the new door.”

After that Logan closed his door and Remus walked back to his room, pretty happy with how his day turned out. When he got there he re opened his sketchbook and turned to the drawing he was working on at the pond. He had made the one he showed Logan yesterday and used that one as a kind of coverup for what he had drawn. On the page was a not quite finished sketch of logan looking at the clearing with curiosity and wonder. Remus smile a bit and sighed, putting the sketchbook down on his desk.

“Dam that nerd.”

Finally! The next chapter! Sorry that it took so long to write I’ve been very stressed with school. I think I might make some art for this chapter because I just love making up creature that would live in the Imagination. Anyways, that’s all for now humans, bye!

Tag list:

@lovelivingmydreams

#my writting #roman sanders #logan sanders #remus sanders #intrological #slight gore #pride!roman #sander sides

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second-chance-stray · 3 years

Photo

RP Log: Cravendy and Lin whittle the time away. @lettersnorth

Cravendy Hound sits on the balcony with an assortment of knick knacks spread around her. All kinds of wood, with and without bark, as well as knives of different sizes and shapes. She takes in a deep breath as she leans back against the railing, practically melting in the warm sun. But no matter how relaxing this might be, little worries spring up like weeds in the back of her mind...will Lin join her today? Did she get her note, and will she know how to get here?

Cravendy Hound groans. Brain, hurry up and remember how to loosen up.

Aislinn North It had taken Aislinn a moment to work out Cravendy's note, particularly in regards to where she would be setting up. This balcony at the back of Heartwood's grounds was tucked away and unless a person frequented the spot it was easy to remember it existed at all. Barring that, the woman also had been juggling a lot recently, both in mind and body. Though things with Cravendy had smoothed out somewhat, 1/2

Aislinn North she held an inkling of nervous energy as she made her way out to the balcony. If anything, this should take her mind off other matters for a time. "Alright, then?" she asked as she arrived. "Almost forgot this existed." 2/2

Cravendy Hound jumps slightly on Lin’s approach, and then turns to watch as she steps up the ladder and onto the balcony. She blinks - what is there to be so cautious about? They’re here to enjoy the daylight and carve some wood, simple as that. Cravs nods to herself, and then tries to smile at the other woman. It looks more like she’s baring her fangs.

Cravendy Hound: “Nice place. Secluded, and the view is ‘ard to beat, though if the wind becomes too much we oughta pack up our things and move indoors. But it’s good right now.” She picks up a rod of wood and a knife, and begins to scrape away ribbons without a moment's hesitation. Then she remembers why Lin came. “......Oh, right. ‘Ere, let me show ye.”

Cravendy Hound hands Lin a piece of wood. “It’s pretty simple. Carve away from yer ‘ands, and go with or across the grain. Why don’t ye give it a shot?”

Aislinn North At Cravendy's insistence she leaned down and took the block of wood being offered. After a quick study of the tools the Seawolf had spread out, Aislinn picked up one of the work worn carving knives. It was obviously a well-used tool and therefore likely to be a good one by Aislinn's thinking. She watched Cravendy a moment and then, ever the mockingbird, began to emulate her. Needless to say, Cravendy made it look much easier than it was. 1/2

Aislinn North Aislinn's knife kept snagging but she was nothing if not patient. "What sort of things do you carve?" asked idly as she hacked away at her poor block of wood. 2/2

Cravendy Hound: “Mostly small figures, like birds. Sometimes eatin’ utensils, if I feel like makin’ somethin’ that’ll be of some use. I don’t really think about it until I’m ‘olding the wood and knife in my hand.” Cravs carefully digs into her piece again, whittling another curl of material away. So far, she was lacking in inspiration, but it was satisfying regardless.

Cravendy Hound eyes what Lin is doing to her block with a grimace, but doesn’t comment on it...directly. “Maybe ye can start with somethin’ simple. A spoon, or a ‘air pin?”

Aislinn North Aislinn paused, glancing at Cravendy over the rim of her glasses. "So you don't actually know what you're going to carve until you're already carving?" For someone like Lin, the idea that there were no blueprints, no schematics, no advanced planning was almost an anathema. In her experience going along with her intuition and acting in the moment only got her into trouble.

Aislinn North Better that everything be carefully thought out and planned for. The exception being, in the heat of a fight, of course. Even then a good strategist should be able to foresee most possibilities and plan for them.

Cravendy Hound: “Yeah,” she answers nonchalantly. It, of course, sometimes led to her sharpening the wood into a simple spike or creating something equally unplanned, but for her, the point was to go with the flow. Cravs looks at her half-carved piece of wood with a hum.

Cravendy Hound shrugs. “No right or wrong way about it. I wouldn’t think too ‘ard about it...and if ye mess up, the wood shavings make good firestarter.”

Aislinn North Right. Aislinn gamely continued on in her endeavor but it was clear the woman was better with a firearm than a blade. And as much as Cravendy said not to think too hard about it, Aislinn had already decided what would be the best course of action. "A spoon can't be too hard, right?" she murmured, almost to herself as she concentrated on trying to steer the knife smoothly down the block. A comfortable sort of quiet settled between the women as they worked.

(Cravendy Hound) fdskjlf for some reason...I'm imagining Lin's spoon to be dual purpose in some way )) (Cravendy Hound) spoon end, and...stabby end is a thought xD )) (Aislinn North) ((She'll end up inventing the spork in Eorzea)) (Cravendy Hound) omg yES ))

Cravendy Hound lifts her work-in-progress up to the light. The curves cut out from it remind her of a fish, and she decides to keep going with it. Without realizing it, she begins to sing - a whisper of a song that is almost lost in the wind. It starts and ends without ever registering in her memory, and afterwards she grins at Lin.

Cravendy Hound: “The woods are nice when they aren’t sendin’ bees or other nasty buggers yer way. Feels...too nice, sometimes. A salty old dog like me is used to a lot worse.”

Aislinn North Her head bent over her work, Aislinn is lost in the minute details of blade against wood until Cravendy's lilting song quietly fills the air. Blinking, she lifted her head in surprise. She never pegged the woman as the type to sing. Though now she wasn't exactly sure why that would be. Sailors sang all the time, didn't they? But what Cravendy said seemed to flummox her even more. "The woods sent bees after you?" she halted as the realization came to her. 1/2

Aislinn North "Ohh. The Shroud. Aye, it can be touchy." she ran a jerky blade down her block of wood once more. "What did you do? I mean, to annoy it?" she clarified. 2/2

Cravendy Hound sucks in air through gritted teeth, and a light blush spreads over her face. “Oh, I don’t know...ye know. The Elementals are very, uh, mysterious.” She then slices away at her wood and, flustered, accidentally takes off a large chunk of the fish’s tail. Damnit. It’s starting to look more like an eel.

Cravendy Hound: “Okay, I’ll come clean. Ye know ‘ow I was practicin’ my aim, but I kept ‘ittin’ the trees instead of the target? I kept doin’ that and...I mean, that could be it.” She presses her lips tightly together. “Maybe.”

Aislinn North: The roundabout answer had Aislinn suppressing a small smile. It sounded as though Cravendy knew exactly what she had done. Aislinn wasn't going to press the issue but she didn't have to, either. Her face lit with silent laughter in the light of Cravendy's confession. 1/2

Aislinn North "Aye, I may have done that once or twice. Learned my lesson though. If I'm going out there in the wilds and not to the range, I'll pack my stunning ammo and a little target node instead. Seems to annoy the Shroud less that way. Or. ..at least I haven't got chased out since doing it that way." she paused in her work and looked Cravendy over. "Glad to see you don't look any worse for wear though. Looks like it was just a polite warning." 2/2

Cravendy Hound grimaces further as she recalls the swarm of bugs and plants that chased her from Peacegarden all the way to Hrystmill. “To be ‘onest, I probably would’ve been carried off by the buggers and thrown into the sun if it weren’t for..er. What was ‘is name...” Cravs waves her knife around, as if the physical motion of twisting her wrist would get the cogs in her head going. “Uhh, some mailman who goes by ‘Windy’ or somethin’. He got the worst of it off my back.”

Cravendy Hound: “Stun ammo...I’ll ‘ave to find some for myself. Don’t want a repeat incident.”

Aislinn North Aislinn had to stop her carving. If she hadn't she was liable to slip and make a bloody mess of one of her fingers. Her shoulders shook from the effort to keep her laughter quiet and contained. "So. ..let me make sure I understand. You were chased off your target practice by a swarm of bees. And then. ..saved by a mailman named 'Windy'. Out in the wilds of the Shroud. A mailman." she could do little more than shake her head. 1/2

Aislinn North "You do seem to end up in the oddest situations, Cravendy." 2/2

(Cravendy Hound) aaahahha xD )) (Cravendy Hound) it's gonna be hilarious when everything snaps into place )) (Aislinn North) ((assuming it ever does. But yes! xD)) (Cravendy Hound) it will!!! I'll make sure of it xD ))

Cravendy Hound nibbles the bottom of her lip. It was...an approximately accurate retelling of what had happened. Ridiculous, but maybe the bees in her hair had rattled her brain and shuffled her memory around. Swiving elementals. “Guy was as stiff as a board, but would say wild things with such ease. Claimed that ‘e could outrun a chocobo. Funny bastard, ‘ope I find ‘im again.”

Cravendy Hound is done carving her fish...eel...thing. Looking at it, you can’t quite tell what it is, though the swirling lines criss crossing over the wood are pleasing enough. She puts it down with a sigh. “I’m a fish out of water ‘ere, but it beats bein’ in Limsa or Ul'dah by a long shot.”

Aislinn North "Snorted "Supposin' if he could, he'd be the kind of mailman you'd want." she glanced down at Cravendy's work. She couldn't rightly say what it was but it was malms ahead of whatever she herself was doing. She looked down at her lap and picked up the block again. "I'm not gonna argue with you about Ul'dah. Neither one of us needs to step foot there. And Limsa. ..I can see why you might be avoiding it." she paused briefly. 1/2

Aislinn North Her block was beginning to resemble some sort of rudimentary spatula of some sort. Perhaps one drawn by a child. "Gridania just takes some getting used to, is all. It's...different." she shook her head. "It's not my favorite place either but there's good things about it." 2/2

Cravendy Hound looks over at Lin’s work, and then searches the array of tools scattered on the deck for one that has a small, curved blade at the tip. She picks it up and offers it to Lin. “This one is better for carvin’ out a ‘ole...so yer spoon is more spoon, and less spatula.”

Cravendy Hound then returns to crossing her arms, looking into the distance with a scowl on her face. She tells herself that by avoiding Limsa, she does everyone else a favor. With everything that had happened...No one wanted to itch that wound open again. But the truth is that she’s scared of what she’ll find. She’s not ready, not yet. But back to Gridania. “......The drinks’re good ‘ere, and that’s all I can ask for.”

Aislinn North She set aside her knife and took the proffered tool. "Right." she eyed the curve of the blade and then set to work. "And you know. ..when the bees aren't chasing you it can be downright pleasant." there may have been a facetious note to Aislinn's voice. She looked over at Cravendy with a brief smile. "Today's not a bad day, anyroads." she waved her tool out over the view the balcony provided, the sound of the wide river rushing below them. 1/2

Aislinn North "But I know what you mean. The forest can feel. ..confining. Closed in. It's not the wide ocean and it certainly isn't Gyr Abania." 2/2

Cravendy Hound: “I’m not pleasant, I’m...” Cravs trails off, her fire blowing out as quickly as it had flared up. Her days as a rough and tumble pirate were long behind her, despite it feeling like it was just yesterday. She snorts. “Bah.”

Cravendy Hound: “Never been to Gyr Abania.” She peers over at Lin, an assumption hanging in the air. She was Ala Mhigan, she probably went there all the time, right? But then again, Cravs was a Sea Wolf avoiding Limsa like the plague. “It seems...dry?”

Aislinn North "Ahh." Aislinn thought she understood now. "Well, the Shroud isn't exactly pleasant either. It has it's moments. That's all. Can still turn on you if you're not careful." She set down her knife. Maybe she'd ought to take stock and pause for a moment. "Dry's a good word for it." she nodded. "Though I haven't been back for..." she paused. Not since going to see the monks. She glanced away as a sadness seemed to settle over her, one she took an effort to shake off. 1/2

Aislinn North "Well, it's been more than a few moons. There's rivers and such but still. ..it's a dry, hard, beautiful place." 2/2

Aislinn North: "Maybe we wander that way one day. Just for a change of scenery."

Cravendy Hound fidgets with the fish-eel figure in her hands. Was that sadness, or perhaps longing in Lin’s voice? She wasn’t sure, except for the fact that there was -something-. But as the sun sets over the mountains, Cravs decides that it’s time to head back in, where they could continue whittling the time away in comfortable silence by warm fires and a well-stocked kitchen.

#ff14 rp logs #Cravendy Hound #Aislinn North #wood whittling!! :D #and bertram mention #aka windy the mailman aaaahah

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harringtonstudios · 4 years

Text

teenage dirtbag. (part II)

plot: somehow, you’re going on a date with your co-worker. part 1!

masterlist!

A/N: i’m sorry this has taken forever! school’s been taking a lot out of me, but i miss you guys soooo :) lmk how it was loves.

taglist: @iamdorka @no-shxt-sherl @bakerkells @findingmyths @rosegoldrichie @mayaslifeinabox @itjustkindahappenedreally @hnbtx @backoftheroomandnotbelonging

Closing never seemed to go by so fast. The minute the clock hit 10pm, Colson had walked over, locking the front door. Ensuring that no other customers were coming in, you both had broken down the responsibilities into two lists. You dealt with the back of the counter, covering all the food, stocking the pantry, and putting away any excess. He straightened up the front, cleaning up the slightly sticky tables and locking up the cash register.

Within twenty minutes, both of you were done. Pulling on your coat, you had called up your friend again, letting her know you didn’t need a ride. Usually, on closing shifts, she would pick you up, not too keen on letting you take the bus that late at night. On the phone, she teased you a little, and you laughed it off, trying to undermine the concept of a date, so you wouldn’t freak yourself out.

Dates were nerve-wracking on their own, and you didn’t need your brain to mess this up for you. It’d only been a few hours, but you had already gone through a series of thoughts that had left you a little more on edge than usual. The first one being that you and Colson were scheduled to work together for the rest of the month. If something went wrong, it would fuck up the entire dynamic and you had let that thought simmer until there was an anxious pit growing in your belly.

“Y/N, I’m gonna piss and then we out?” Colson shouted from down the hall. You nodded over at him, grabbing your purse from the hook. Leaving the back room, you went to go sit out on a table, fingers anxiously tapping on the blue tabletop.

A few seconds later Colson came out, wiping his palms on his sweatpants. You tracked his movement before looking away, cheeks flush at the idea of him catching you staring at him. He passed in front of you and you got up, following him out of the store.

Throwing you the keys, he grinned. Rolling your eyes, you locked up the door, making sure that it was fully closed. A couple of shifts ago, someone had left the door unlocked and your manager had a conniption over it. Passing the keys back, you reached into your purse, pulling out a stick of gum and pushing it into your mouth.

“So whaddya wanna do?” Colson asked, walking backwards, skateboard tucked under his arm.

“I don’t know, I thought you had something in mind,” you replied, watching him casually walk backwards towards the mall’s exit.

“Nah,” he mumbled out before stumbling a little. You reached out, grabbing his shoulders, laughing just a little.

“Shut up,” he laughed, turning around to walk the normal way. Reaching the exit, you waited for him to walk towards his car. Pulling on the handle, he unlocked the doors.

Throwing his skateboard in the backseat, he pushed open your door from inside, smiling up at you. Getting in, you grinned over at him as the engine rumbled to life. Putting an arm behind you on the headrest, he pulled out of the parking space.

You snapped on your seatbelt before fiddling with the radio, laughing as the station started playing your type of songs. As Colson drove out of the parking lot, you started singing along to the words, dancing a little in your seat.

He laughed at your enthusiasm as he drummed his fingers on the steering wheel, driving down the empty road. You knew the area around pretty well, having loitered around these very streets but within a few minutes, he was turning down the side of a road you hadn’t been on before.

Shifting in your seat, you moved closer to the window. Glass fogging up slightly as you let out a breath, you brought up your hand to draw a little smiley face. Turning back towards the driver's seat, you mumbled out, “So where are we going?”

“Don’t worry about it,” he responded, eyes leaving the street to look over at you. You let your head fall back against the headrest, sighing just a little.

You let the music flow in between the two of you, falling into the energy of the beats. A minute or two later, he pulled into an abandoned parking lot, cutting off the ignition.

All of a sudden, it’s too quiet. You know Colson, have worked with him for a while, but for some reason, this seems kinda off.

You turn swiftly to look at him, a little concern building in your chest before saying, “You didn’t bring me out here to kill me right?”

He snorts a little, then catches the fear building in your eyes and immediately backtracks. “No. There’s a skatepark back there, food truck that runs all night long. Thought we could get tacos?”

Your hand is on the handle of the door, fingers antsily gripping on the rubber. Moonlight shines through the windshield, illuminating his features, the curve of his lip, the softness of his hair, the calmness in his eyes.

You let go of the handle, move into his space. Watch as he leans in closer, until you two are inches apart, stick shift the only thing separating you.

“You okay?” he mumbles, looking down at you.

“Yeah,” you let out before pushing up on your hands, reaching your mouth to his.

His lips meet yours and it’s better than you expected. You’d been waiting all day for this moment, and you feel yourself smile as he softly pushes into it. Breaking off, you slump in the passenger seat, feeling a giddy smile break across your face.

He laughs looking at you covering your face as you giggle.

“C’mon, I’m starving,” he mutters, hand moving your fingers and gripping your chin as he pecks your lips.

“Tacos here we go,” you mumble, kissing him again.

“The door,” he mutters, letting his lips touch yours.

“You first,” you whisper, running a finger down his jaw, throwing in another kiss.

He belly-laughs, and you feel it vibrate through his body. A second later, his heat is gone, wind whipping in the car as he opens his door, grabbing his skateboard from behind. You huff a little, before opening your own and stepping out into the empty night.

The skate park is surprisingly full. There’s people sitting on benches, chatter lighting up the area around you as Colson leads the way to the food truck. There’s a line, and you both stand at the end, shuffling as the cold air hits you.

“Cold?” he asks, unzipping his jacket.

“Kinda. I’m good though,” you respond, reaching over to zip his jacket back up.

He snorts before opening it up again, and then wraps himself around you. His arms cross over your waist, and he rests his chin on the top of your head, leaning into you.

The line moves fast and before you know it, the two of you are waddling to the front, still together. Glancing at the menu, you realize there’s only two options, written on a chalkboard. Before you can really figure out what you want, Colson’s moving off of you closer to the window.

“Two specials please,” he grins, reaching down to grab two Coronas. You grab one from him, putting it back just to replace it with water. Someone’s gonna have to drive you back home anyways. In that split second, he pays for the food, ushering you to the other side of the truck.

“Hey, no! I was gonna pay,” you complain, as he pulls you back into the same position as before.

“I asked you out, so I pay,” he responds simply, chin moving on top of your head. You smiled at that, turning slightly to look up at him before saying, “So next time, I got us.”

He smirks a little before repeating, ”Next time?”

“Yep,” you respond, turning back around before either of you can change your mind. This feels right. A long day of working with him, waiting here for tacos just feels so right somehow.

Your order comes in and then the both of you are holding two full plates of good-looking food. He walks over to the quarter pipe structure, hesitating for a second before motioning to you.

“We’re gonna sit up there,” he declares, hand already reaching up to the ladder attached. You wince just a little, wondering exactly how you’re going to balance your food while climbing up a ladder. As if he read your mind, he starts climbing, getting to the top fast, even a plate and his skateboard in his hands.

He comes back down, jumping the last few rungs before taking your plate from you.

“M’lady,” he mumbles, tipping his head down as he hikes a foot back on the ladder. You let out a loud laugh, bringing a hand over your own mouth as he reaches the top again.

“You coming up or am I eating all this by myself?” he shouts and you get a move on, carefully making your way up the ladder.

There’s something different about the air when you’re sitting half-way above the ground, shoes dangling off the edge as skateboards wizz past a few feet away from you. It’s electric, buzzing deep in your skin, making you feel like you’re on top of the world.

Colson’s next to you, shoes knocking against yours. His skateboard’s tucked under one of his arms, as he digs into his tacos. You’ve got your own food on your lap, but for some reason you don’t really want to eat, instead you just wanna watch the skaters do their thing. Eyes wandering, you look up at the night sky, catching the twinkle of a couple of stars.

“Y/N, you good?” Colson mumbles out between bites. Bringing your attention back to him, you nod before laughing.

“You got, uh a little something over there,” you motion at his chin, covered in slivers of lettuce.

“Where?” he asks, hand already brushing at his face.

“Yeah, you got it,” you murmur and then you’re leaning in, kissing his clean chin.

Moving up just a little, you catch his lips with your own. Shifting, you turn your body towards him, forgetting about the food perched on your lap. Colson’s hand comes to your waist, keeping you steady as he pulls you closer, breaking the kiss only to start another one.

There’s a second of peace and then you move your leg. The food goes flying off your lap, and you push off of Colson to reach for it, only to see it smash onto the cement below.

“Fuck!” you shout into the wind and his grip on you tightens.

“Come back here. You’re too close to the edge,” he mutters, tugging at you.

“The tacos fell,” you pout, shuffling a bit back. Pulling in your legs, you cross them together, hands awkwardly feeling at the ground.

“Here,” he hands you his plate, one taco preserved in there as he stands up.

“Where ya going?” you ask, confusion etched on your face.

“Someone’s gonna fall off of that. I’ll clean it and come back. Stay here,” he says, wiping his palms on his sweatpants. Kicking up his skateboard, he walks to the edge, throwing you a wink before sliding down.

Your eyes widen, and then you move to peer over and watch the way he casually stops himself in the middle of the pipe. Grabbing the plate, he scoops up the smushed food before stepping off the pipe on the ground.

You move back, track him crossing over to the trash can. He gets on the skateboard again, and then he’s pushing himself up to the other side of the pipe, before barreling towards you.

Within seconds, he’s back, cheeks a little flush. You smile up at him and he grins back, your heart skipping a beat as he licks at his lips.

“Do that again,” you breathe out and he nods before turning back towards the edge.

Watching him skate between the two edges, the way the light catches his skin, the smile on his face, you feel yourself wanting something you haven’t in a while. The air feels clearer somehow, and you look up at the sky once more, catching a star staring right back at you. Whispering out a wish, you let yourself get lost in the moment, tomorrow will come soon enough.

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myhusbandsasemni · 3 years

Text

The Adventurers-Royal AU

For my best friend uwu

WC: 2745

CW: slight violence to minor

Rin knew he was a puppet. He had no say in it. Rin sat dejectedly on his bed, pointedly ignoring the clothing laid out on the bed next to him. He had been the King of Teliar for several years now, ever since his father had died on his way to the kingdom across the sea, but Rin didn’t feel like he was. His council held an iron fist on his life by way of his sister. They threatened to do so many horrible things to her, and Rin knew them well enough to understand that they would do everything they’d threatened and more, just for the fun of it. So, he’d just have to live with someone else making every decision for him, including his clothing.

There was a pounding on the door that made Rin jump to his feet, hands reaching for a weapon that he hadn’t been allowed to wear in months. He relaxed when he heard his retainer’s voice on the other side of the dark wood. “Your highness, Lady Snow is waiting downstairs for you.”

A subtle reminder that Rin had a ball he was supposed to be attending.

“I understand,” Rin replied. “Thank you, John.”

Rin finally slipped into the rich silks and fabrics the suit was made of. He didn’t particularly care for the style. It was a bit too stuffy, though the color choice was something he had no quarrel with. Blacks and golds didn’t clash with the maroon hair on his head, unlike the purple they made him wear the week before.

Rin finished by glancing at his hair in the huge mirror on his wall. He sneered at himself before turning to the door. He opened it to find the only servant he could stand waiting for him. John looked him over and sighed with relief. “I intervened with your clothes today,” the servant explained as he walked with the king. “They were threatening to put you in a sky blue or something.”

Rin gave John a relieved smile. “Thank you. You have no idea how much that means to me.”

John nodded as they approached the ball room. The noise was already too much. Rin could sense a headache approaching.

“At least Kiera is here,” John consoled, dropping the formalities a little.

Rin nodded in agreement. Kiera was his fiance, who he did not choose, but if he had a choice he still would have chosen her. He thanked whatever God would listen to him for the fact that he loved the woman who had been chosen for him, and she loved him. He wasn’t sure what he would have done if there had been issues in that area.

“Good luck,” John said softly to Rin.

Rin just nodded, accepting his fate and stepping into the room. He ignored the flourishes that came with a king entering the room and scanned the crowd for Kiera. He found her in a corner, reading a book and wearing a dress too casual for the occasion. But he didn’t mind. She looked much better this way.

He crossed around to her, ignoring any attempts from people to talk to him. He stopped in front of her, hand out. Kiera looked up at him from her book. Something in her eyes said she didn’t want to dance, but she could tell Rin needed to talk to her and she wasn’t going to take that away from him.

She stood up, smoothing out the simple black and blue dress that went nicely with her dyed hair and followed him out on the dance floor.

As they started dancing, Rin pulled her into a sort of hug, unable to control his breathing all of the sudden. Kiera recognized it as the beginning of a panic attack and secretly led the dance, helping him work through it without the court realizing.

“It’s okay,” Kiera said softly, rubbing his back. She made sure he could feel her breathing as she took long slow breaths. She had gone through plenty of panic attacks so she knew how to help.

“I don’t want to do this anymore,” he said, barely holding onto his voice. He was terrified.

“I know,” Kiera said softly. “I’m here. We’ll figure something out. I’ll be able to help, now.”

Rin nodded and managed to pull himself together over the course of the next two dances. They would have to do it soon. He wasn’t entirely sure he could endure much longer.

………………………………………..

“Almost there,” Anisha whispered to Laurance from where they danced. They were more dressed up than they had ever been in their lives. The two thieves had been slowly growing in popularity over the past few months, their first break being on a mission to steal from a Lord Shad. They had been climbing the ranks in the many thieves guilds and were looking to come to the top of the ladder so they could settle down and finally get married and have children out in the country where they couldn’t be found. Due to their pasts, they hadn’t really been able to choose any other life.

So, they had the plan of all plans. They had snuck into the party after months of work and training. The two moved and acted like nobles now and they knew all the dances. They were so close to their goal. All they had to do now was sneak off like a loving couple and find their way into the jewel room, steal some smaller ones that could easily have been pieces in a noble’s outfit, and make it out with their spoils.

For now, the two were dancing carefully and watching the king and his lady. Anisha’s eyes squinted ever so slightly. Her eyesight wasn’t the best and her glasses were in her purse as a lady would not be seen wearing such an inexpensive pair. So she was following Laurance’s lead as best she could.

Laurance smiled down at her. “Almost. It’s been a long time coming.”

Anisha nodded. The two danced fairly near the royals. Laurance glimpsed the pain between them and almost faltered.

“What?” Anisha whispered.

“They’re….. I’ll tell you later,” he replied. With that, they finished the dance on the side of the room they wanted to be on and started giggling and acting generally starstruck with each other. They soon slipped out with barely anyone paying any heed to them. Anisha pulled out her glasses and put them on. Laurance took her hand and they went off down the halls the way they’d planned. Within minutes they were coming back with new brooches and buttons and a necklace or two tucked away under their clothes. It hadn’t taken Anisha long to pick the door and for her and Laurance to determine the right jewels to take. Laurance was already planning how he’d take the gems apart to sell them off without anyone realizing where they came from.

They went back out among the party goers and stepped out to dance again. They didn’t want to leave too soon. That would be fairly suspicious considering the time of night, though they tried to dance away from the royals.

The two started to get very cute with one another, whispering softly to each other and discussing where they would like to live. Laurance was about to bring up the topic of marriage and children when a shout from the guards and a small and defeated wail cut through the pleasant chatter and music. The dancing stopped as a young boy in servants clothing was dragged onto the dance floor in front of the King and his lady. Anisha and Laurance slipped closer out of habit. Knowledge is power, no matter who you were..

“What is this?” Rin asked sternly, glancing between the boy and the guards. The boy seemed to be trying to hide in his own clothes and overgrown hair.

“This boy was caught trying to steal food from your table, your Majesty,” the guard said, yanking on one of the boy’s arms. He whined softly, but continued trying to hide.

Anisha clenched her teeth at what she heard, being unable to see quite what was happening. Laurance gripped her hand so tight it almost hurt.

Rin hesitated. An older man, one of the head members of the council slipped up beside the king and whispered something. Laurance watched as the king went red with anger. Then, the councilman whispered something more and the blood in Rin’s face drained out in an instant.

He licked his lips nervously, trying to regain control of himself. “He will be put in the dungeon until I can deal with him further.” The councilman frowned a bit but allowed the answer.

The boy started struggling weakly at this. He made no noise, but Laurance could see the tears coursing down his young face. A face that had seen too much horror, felt too much pain. The guard backhanded the boy, sending him to the floor in a sprawl.

Anisha and Laurance moved together to stand over the boy protectively. “You will do no such thing,” Anisha said, an unladylike snarl edging her voice.

“Who are you?” the councilman asked with disdain as he watched her through his monocle.

“That doesn’t matter,” Anisha said, her voice shaking with rage. “How heccin DARE you threaten this boy like that. He is a CHILD! And he’s obviously terrified and confused.”

Anisha whipped out her glasses so she could fix them with a proper glare.

Laurance helped the boy up and the child instantly latched onto Laurance’s side. He was shaking badly.

The councilman opened his mouth to say something horrible when a woman spoke up. “Wait, why is she wearing my brooch?”

Anisha turned to the woman wildly. The woman stared at her in confusion. It only took a moment of assessing her grey dress and maroon hair to realize she was Rin’s sister.

Rin was visibly shaken. He stepped forward and plucked the brooch off of Anisha’s dress, who was now so incensed and filled with a sudden fear that she didn’t stop him. He turned it over and looked at the back. Anisha had picked out unmarked jewels but there must have been something in the metal patterns on the back that made it distinguishable, as he nodded in shock. Guards surrounded the two in an instant and Laurance and Anisha struggled against gloved hands that found several other clearly stolen jewels.

Rin opened his mouth to say something but the counselor cut him off saying, “Take them all to the dungeon! We’ll make a decision about these three at a later time.”

With that, Laurance, Anisha, and the server boy were dragged off, Laurance almost escaping twice before a sword handle to the back of his head silenced him. Anisha screamed in her fury and fear.

Rin clenched his fists, trying not to be sick. He couldn’t understand what was happening. “I have to go,” he whispered. He turned and stumbled out of the ballroom, ignoring anything the councillors said. He nearly tripped into his rooms in his desire to be away from everyone, and looked around as if he were lost before falling to his knees on the floor, arms wrapped around his stomach. He heard the door open and close and cool hands made themselves known on his face. He looked up into his fiance’s face. She looked just as confused and sick. Rin pulled her into a hug, burying his face in her shoulder.

After several minutes of comfort, Kiera sat back. Rin wiped his face and stood up to start pacing.

“Councillor Hendrake wants me to kill that boy,” Rin whispered, his hands running through his hair as if he were trying to dislodge the whole situation from his life. “And I’m sure I’ll have to murder those other two as well. Kiera, I can’t do this!”

Kiera rubbed her own face, avoiding the makeup around her eyes. The only way out of this seemed to be getting the councillors out of the way and giving all the power to Rin. But that felt impossible and it wasn’t like there was anything they could do about it. They were constantly watched. Then, it hit her.

“Rin, those thieves. They got the jewels without anyone knowing. I’m sure that if the thing hadn’t happened with the server boy, they would have made off with them.”

“Yeah. Probably. Your point?”

“They’re good!” Kiera exclaimed. “They’ve got to be professionals. Which means they can probably help us.”

Rin paused and thought it over. He looked to her with actual hope in his eyes. “We can stage an escape,” Rin said softly. “And then they can help us be free!”

Kiera nodded, smiling wider. “Hendrake won’t stand a chance, that weiner.”

Rin could only burst into uproarious laughter.

…………………..

Laurance woke in a cold cell, wearing a tunic that was not his own. He sat up slowly, his heart sinking when he heard the chains rattle around his wrists.

“Laurance?”

Laurance got up faster despite his headache and pressed himself against the bars. He could just barely see Anisha in another cell, devoid of her dress and glasses.

“Nisha,” he said softly, hating the way his voice echoed in the horrible chamber.

Anisha hugged herself, rubbing her arms. “W…..What are we supposed to do?” her voice broke fearfully as she spoke.

Laurance winced, glad that she could not see his expressions for once. “I don’t know,” he said gently. He looked across the hall from his cell and saw the server boy tucked in a corner, his head buried in his arms.

He peaked out of them, fear in his eyes.

“Hey, there,” Laurance said, confusing Anisha who couldn’t see who he was talking to. “Are you alright? What’s your name?”

The boy stared at him for a long moment during which Anisha chirped in a confused way. The boy finally opened his mouth and said, “I’m Souka.”

Laurance nodded and waited a moment. When Souka said no more, the thief asked, “And are you okay?”

“I’m……” Souka trailed off, searching his cell for the answer. He looked back to Laurance, horror leaking out with the tears.

“Hey,” Laurance said, already checking the lock on his cell. “It’s okay. It’ll be okay. We’re going to get you out.”

“Yup yup,” Anisha declared, trying to check the locks on hers but having obvious difficulty.

Souka held his shaking hands to his face as a sob ripped through his chest.

Laurance searched harder, looking around his dimly lit cell for something to unlock the door while Anisha did the same thing, though at a slower pace. They all froze as the sound of footsteps came down the hall. Souka retreated to the darkest part of the cell while Laurance and Anisha only took a step or two back from the bars.

The two owners of the steps came into view, wearing cloaks. The taller one pulled his hood down and the King stared in at Laurance. Laurance set his face to stone, though he was very surprised by the hope he could see in the man’s eyes.

Kiera lowered her hood and stepped down the hall to start unlocking Anisha’s cell while Rin stepped forward to do the same with Laurance.

“We don’t have much time,” the king said, fingers shaking with the keys. “Hendrake likes to have random executions in the middle of the night.”

“What are you doing?” Laurance asked guardedly.

Rin took a shuddery breath and looked up from the lock. “I need your help,” he whispered, the desperation cracking his tone. “I’m sure you know as well as anybody that I’m just a puppet. The council’s threatening my sister and I can’t do anything about it. I’m going to save your lives, and I just ask that you help me get free.”

Laurance glanced to where Kiera was unlocking Anisha’s cuffs.

“And if we don’t agree?” he asked.

Rin froze, looking a bit like he wanted to be sick.

“Then I’ll still let you go.”

Laurance, surprised by the sincerity, glanced at Anisha, who nodded.

“We’re freeing Souka, correct?” Laurance asked as Rin got the cell door open.

Rin glanced over at the cell with the boy. There was relief in the King’s voice as he said, “Of course.”

Anisha gave a nod in Laurance’s general direction and Laurance took a deep breath.

“We’re in, then.”

The Adventurers tag list: @dowings @writeblrfantasy @artrayasnow93 @doubi-ixi @extraisthmus @thethistlegirlwrites @thepotatowriter

#writing #wip the adventurers #royalty au #rin #king

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woodrokiro · 4 years

Text

Hollowed (fic), Part Nine

Fandom: Bleach

Pairing: IchiRuki:

Summary: They call her a miracle, but he looks at her as if she’s normal. It scares her. Fantasy/Futuristic/Zombie kinda?AU. Read Parts One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, and Eight.

“That is ludicrous.”

“It’s not. It’s true.”

“You’re telling me that you think Measure for Measure is better written than Hamlet--” she watches him sputter, near choking on his own bafflement, “--one of the greatest pieces of literature written, so legendary that what’s left of literary scholars today are still talking about it five hundred years later?”

“I am. You need to read Measure for Measure again.”

“No don’t turn this on me, you need to read Hamlet again--”

“I already did. Four times. I’m not saying it’s bad. I’m. Just. Not. Impressed.” She crosses her arms and looks at him pointedly, working admittedly hard to prevent the smirk working at her face. “Anyway, that’s my personal opinion.”

“Yeah, well, your opinion sucks--”

“My opinion is pristine.”

“Okay, so-so why would, like, hundreds of literary scholars disagree with you?”

“I don’t know these scholars you speak of that you read from one book, but I can tell you they’re dead and outdated.”

He huffs, twisting around so that his back is turned to her against the screen. Like he’s punishing her.

She knows he can’t see her, but just in case she smothers her grin into her palm.

It’s strange, she considers as she moves the chair she was leaning against, studying the floor beneath the table. How quickly they’ve fallen into a bizarre sort of friendship--and over books at that.

At the day’s end after they had exchanged Hamlet and King Lear, Rukia became rather embarrassed at herself. How rude she was at his misunderstanding her proposed arrangement, how quickly she had taken his valued copy from his hands…

How excited she became at the thought of having a reading partner.

She didn’t sleep well that night. It wasn’t like her to act that way. The fact that she hadn’t had a literary friend in so long was no excuse. As a lady she was to have poise, she was to be elegant and reserved and not expect more of other people than what their duties called for, that was something she swore to herself after Kaien--

She was ready to apologize when his next shift came. Instead, before she could say a word he came back with her King Lear in hand claiming that Lear “was a total pissant.”

She still chose her words carefully around him, and days after the hospital left her not wanting to talk to him at all.

But today was a good day, and she was rather ashamedly surprised that annoying him so easily was… Quite fun.

As if on cue, he turns his head--but not enough to look at her. “You’re wrong.”

“On the contrary: I’m always right. I’m the Prized One, remember?”

He scoffs and shakes his head. “Whatever that means, I can see it clearly hasn’t gotten to your head.” He stops, and she can hear him wrapping his knuckles on the floor. “So you’re telling me none of it resonated with you? I mean, this guy’s birthright was taken from him, so he fought--”

“No, not really.” she stops him half-mindedly. Her gaze and attention is really on the small chandelier hanging above her table that needs quite a bit of dusting.”Besides: he doesn’t deserve to be king. His self-entitlement cost lives, and for what? What he thinks may have been a ghost of his dead father?”

“Well no one’s arguing Hamlet’s a good guy, but--that’s my point! Lives were cost at the selfish decisions of the rich. How about Ophelia, didn’t you feel a… I don’t know, a connection to how vulnerable she--um EXCUSE ME what are you doing?”

She looks down at his sputtering expression from where she stands on the table. “What? I’m dusting this chandelier.”

“Yeah I can see that, but Kiyone’s coming later and… I don’t know, has a ladder??”

“Kiyone’s gone for the day, and I need this done now.” She blinks at him. “Did no one tell you? My brother’s coming for a visit.”

“No one tells me anything here.” He grumbles, but still eyes her skeptically as she reaches up to polish the decorative glass petals. “Look, could you just--can you get down from there? You’re gonna get hurt, and he’s not worth it.”

“No I’m not; see? I’m already done.” She drops her rag on the ground below. “And don’t talk that way about my brother. Now, he’s coming soon so I have to--”

She twists her body to find the chair from which she can step down, forgetting that she’s standing on what she realizes now is a rather slippery paper.

She hears a shout as she tumbles down.

He’s shouting and Rukia is on the ground and groaning and goddamn it he knew this would happen and if the psycho doesn’t answer him this second he’s gonna blame her for the ten years shaved off his life but he can’t think about that now he’s---

He’s inside the room. Holding her.

He doesn’t remember even twisting the latch open, or the exact moment that he decided to disobey her orders by coming in--but whatever. It wasn’t a question, coming to her side.

“Rukia. Hey! Rukia, answer me.” She grimaces in response, but he near bellows in a sigh of relief. “Jesus! You scared the shit out of me.”

“What are you doing over here, fool?” Her glare and tone could kill, but Ichigo just rolls his eyes.

“I don’t know, why were you thinking you could just stand up on such a weak ass table and not get hurt?”

“That’s not the point.”

“That is the point, dumbass, that’s why we’re here!”

“Don’t talk to me that way. Go back to your side, I’m fine--” she starts to get up, but flinches with a sharp intake of breath.

Her eyes meet his and they stare each other down.

“Where does it hurt?”

“I’m fine, I just said I was.”

“You just fell four feet at least, so no you’re not fine--”

“Quit overreacting, it’s not like I went unconscious--”

“Even so, you could have sprains. Let me have a look--”

“This is completely disregarding my orders--”

“Rukia, sit on the damn chair and shut up!”

He thinks she’s going to scream back for a moment, until she follows his orders with an irritated huff and pulls herself up to sit in the closest chair he had pulled for her. Ichigo doubts she really gave up that easy, and that he’ll have to pay for it sometime later.

Whatever, he can deal with it once he finds her injuries.

After giving her head a once over and asking her repeatedly whether she hit it (the answer is a bratty, resounding “no” each time, which leaves Ichigo somewhat relieved), he moves back to look at the rest of her body.

“Where does it hurt then?”

Silence.

“I’ll wait right here as long as I have to.”

“... My hands broke my fall, but my ankle is rather sore.”

Ichigo nods. “Makes sense, if you twisted it,” he mutters before kneeling at her feet to take a closer look.

Surprisingly the ankle looks fine; a little swollen, but nothing that can’t heal on its own. He gently feels out the rest of the foot, gingerly pressing his thumb into different points of the fragile bones.

“Here? Is it okay here?”

She doesn’t answer, but he can feel her nod. He swallows thickly, moving his hand slowly past her ankle, up around her calf.

Her skin--he tries not to notice--is very soft.

“Here…?” He looks up and finds her watching him. Her lips are slightly parted, and her half-lidded eyes look slightly… Hazy? Dazed? Curious?

He doesn’t know what to call them, but he knows he’s not able to look away.

He’s caught by the stillness of the moment--his looking up at her, her gazing down at him--and he’s pretty sure the only noise in the room is his breath, the creak of her chair. He should probably do something, say anything to make this normal again--and he’d rather not do anything because the only thing he can do would be very inappropriate and something he very much does not want to do so he opens his mouth to speak--

“My sister Karin is unhappy in the kitchens, would you be able to put her in masonry?”

Rukia’s eyes snap open wide. Her face falls, startled and even a little sad and she firmly kicks her leg from his grasp.

Ichigo wants to shove his whole fist in his mouth and choke.

You absolute piece of shit.

“Of course, I’d be happy to put a good word in.” She clears her throat, looking anywhere but him. “Are you done? I’ve told you, I’m all right.”

“Y-yeah of course. Sorry.” He stumbles back onto his heels, brings himself to stand on suddenly jittery legs. “Look, Rukia, I didn’t--that’s not what I--”

“That’s Lady Rukia to you.”

The two of them jump at the unexpected voice, and turn to see where it’s coming from. Byakuya is standing at the doorway, coolly eyeing his sister and her flustered bodyguard.

He sees her get up rather quickly and bow. “Brother, I thank you for your presence--”

“Are you hurt, Rukia?” Byakuya directs the question at her, but keeps his eyes trained on Ichigo’s. “I can only imagine that was what was happening so distastefully with your bodyguard. Though how he would have any medical knowledge is beyond me.”

“My father often offered medical assistance in the Valley--”

“Medical knowledge in the Valley is akin to a monkey learning how to be a doctor here: not even close in their knowledge.”

Before Ichigo has the chance to snap, Rukia pipes up. “He did well in searching for immediate injuries, Brother. And I have no doubt the medical facilities look for anything he might’ve missed tonight.”

“I would believe so.” He eyes Ichigo sternly for another moment before turning his attention to his sister. “In any case, you know better to be careful Rukia. I don’t need to remind you of your delicate condition.”

“Of course, Brother. I only wanted the room to look nice for you--”

“Guard, you may leave.” He nods curtly back to Ichigo. “I require a private meeting with my sister, and from there I will accompany her to the medical facilities.”

He hears a sharp intake of breath from Rukia. “So early today? Can’t it be a little later--”

“The hospital needs to see you sooner for another test. Their schedule cannot be helped.”

“... Of course.” Rukia bows again, then turns to Ichigo. “Ichigo, you may go. Thank you for your service today.”

Ichigo grits his teeth. He knows Rukia was looking forward to Byakuya coming, but he doesn’t like the idea of this fucking asshole nitpicking her without anyone to protect her.

But then… He was just a fucking asshole to her, too.

And Rukia’s still not looking him in the eye.

He walks out of the room, past the captain with tightened fists before slamming the door with a frustrated thud.

Lunch with her brother has never been… Well. Comfortable. Particularly after he’s just found her and her bodyguard in a compromising position.

Not that it was at all what it looked like; Ichigo was just checking her for injuries, after all. Maybe she felt… Dizzy when he was gently pressing her ankle, his calloused hand moving its way up her calf--but she can blame the lightheadedness on her fall. Besides: it was clear he thought nothing of it, either. The way he asked for his sister…

She’s not offended, she muses as she pours more tea into her brother’s cup. Not in the slightest. She’s rather used to people asking things of her, and it’s all right. Really. He’s already proved himself a capable servant, he can ask for things.

It’s better that there’s distance, she thinks as she holds the cup out to her brother with two hands. It’s better to think of him as just that: a capable servant. Don’t blur the lines like last time.

“You look deep in thought today, Sister.” Byakuya observes her from behind his raised cup. “Is something the matter?”

She shakes her head, shakes the annoying feelings of disappointment and loneliness from her mind. “Not at all. I’m just rather tired. I suppose I wasn’t expecting to… To go to the hospital so early today.”

“It is necessary. You know the tests are planned very carefully.” He replies shortly, but there’s a tinge in his voice that she knows is not unkindness. “After tonight, you will get a bit of rest. I have requested that they give you a longer break before your next visit.”

She bows her head low. “Thank you for your kindness, Brother.”

“It is no kindness. I would think it does little good for the doctors to have you so weary, as they have the past few weeks.” He sips his tea nonchalantly, but she knows his action for what it is: a mercy.

They are not common from him, but she knows he does try where he can.

Which is why she knows moments like these are the best times to ask.

“By the way, Brother--if you would be so inclined… I would like to ask for my favor of the month. My bodyguard--Ichigo Kurosaki--”

“I know who he is, you need not describe him by name.”

“Of course. His sister… I believe her name is Karin. If I am to be believed, she does not make a great fit in the kitchens--”

“Has she made your meals incorrectly? Does she need to be reprimanded?” Her brother drums his fingers slightly on the table.

“No! No, nothing like that. Just… I believe she might be better elsewhere. Perhaps Masonry? From what I’ve heard, there are always workers needed there--and I’m sure she is quite capable of the work.”

Byakuya watches her evenly, and she resists the urge to squirm or gulp down the rest of her tea in distraction. He doesn’t tolerate people that can’t hold a level conversation with him--no matter how intimidating he may or may not know himself to be.

Finally, he lets out a dignified snort. “That group has been spoiled enough already,” he lets out, clearly irritated. “The boy is your bodyguard, one is being led around our classified medical facilities, the others have jobs citizens more qualified than them have been requesting for years. Yamamoto believes they bring good, but I do not.”

“I think--I believe they are just hard working people with no place to go--”

“They could’ve gone someplace else. There are other villages that still exist… But very well. If you request to have the girl moved… Then I trust your judgement.” He looks at her, and it’s subtle--but she’d say it is one of exasperated affection. “You ask too much for others, Sister, and not enough for yourself.”

She is about to say something, thank him for his kindness yet again when he clears his throat and stands to leave. “Shall we go, then?”

Rukia nods, stacking her dishes neatly for Kiyone to take while she’s gone.

She tries not to think about discomfort she’ll face tonight, the raw pain that’ll sure enough be in her shoulder.

But It is worth it, she tells herself until it gives her the strength to stand taller.

So long as I’m helping people, it is worth it.

#ichiruki #bleach #ichigo kurosaki #rukia kuchiki #my stuff #hollowed

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kittybellestark · 4 years

Text

Peter Parker Went Silent

TW: Small description of rape, mentions of suicide, and dissociation

It was a gradual thing. Everyday he just became more silent, he started speaking less and less as time went on. It was just slow enough that no one noticed as it was happening. It just seemed normal as it was happening that no one saw he was silent until weeks later.

It was a lab day when it finally clicked with Tony that Peter hasn’t spoken, in a really long time. Music was blasting at a comfortable volume, and Tony could hear Peter’s leg bouncing, knee hitting the workbench then heel bouncing off the ground.

“How was school Pete?” Tony asked, eyeing the kid carefully.

Peter shrugged, hardly looking up from what he was doing, not making any eye contact.

“Anything special happen?”

Peter shakes his head.

“Anything special on Patrol?”

Peter shakes his head again.

“What about Ted and MJ?” Tony goaded, knowing that calling Ned the wrong name would lead to Peter correcting him. “Anything interesting happen to them?”

Peter just shrugs again, and Tony sighs.

“Are you okay, Peter?” Tony settles on.

Peter hesitates for a moment before nodding. Tony drops the conversation for now, deciding to find out what could be causing this another way.

~~~~

As Tony had gathered information from Peter’s friends and Aunt, it became even more glaringly obvious that something was very, very, wrong with Peter. He wasn’t eating anywhere’s near as much as he used to, hasn’t said a word in weeks, won’t hang out with his friends anymore, almost never home, and when Peter was home he was sleeping. His patrols were shorter, and Spider-Man wasn’t talking either, instead Peter was relying on Karen to just understand which web combinations he’ll need at what time.

“Harley, any chance you know what’s happening with Peter?”

“He was acting strange before he broke up with me, but I figured it was because he wanted to break things off. Haven’t seen him since then why?”

“He doesn’t talk, or eat anymore. He just exists for a little while, disappears for a bit then sleeps. He’s not Peter anymore.”

Harley seemed surprised but what he was hearing. While he felt he had known Peter pretty well, considering they had dated, everything just seemed out of character for him.

“Okay, thanks Harley, if you do see him and notice anything strange, could you just let me know?”

With that Tony left Harley to cultivate a new plan.

~~~~

Stupid Tony. Stupid, stupid, stupid. This is a bad plan. A really bad plan. He really should have given it more thought that he had. Following Peter after school when in disguise was a really bad idea. Can he be arrested for this? He’s just looking out for his kid, his kid who hasn’t been himself forever now. His kid who he neglected to realize something was wrong.

So here he is in a disguise and a really high quality mask over his face that makes it so no one realizes that he’s Tony Stark. Following his damn kid, because Peter has said nothing to him or anyone about what is going on in his life.

Tony watches as Peter leaves the school, hood up over his head, headphones on, and his head down. He walked slowly, like he didn’t want what was coming for him, but has resigned himself to whatever it is.

Another man, large, starting to bald with a bushy beard came out from around a corner matching his pace with Peter’s and walking besides him. Peter’s shoulders tensed up for a moment before dropping again, as he continued his journey.

Tony continued to follow as Peter and this other man seemed to be on the same path, almost walking in-step with each other. They has seemed to come to their destination, the man giving Peter a little bit of a nudge before opening a door to an apartment complex that looked half falling down, ready to have a sign with the word ‘CONDEMNED’ written on it.

Peter paused for a moment as the door was held open for him. Peter looked around the streets, maybe looking for something or maybe someone before dropping his head, walking in as his one arm was grabbed.

Tony walked up to the door trying it, but it was locked. Tapping on his glasses and activating FRIDAY. His anxiety spiking, not knowing what was happening behind closed doors.

“FRI, tell me where Peter is, now.” Tony grit out, pacing the front of the building.

“Peter Parker appears to be on the top floor towards the back of the building. There is a fire escape that should give you direct access to the room he’s in.”

Tony nodded, looking for an easy way to get to the back, finding the only way was through an alley half a block away. Tony started the trek, wishing that he could already be there, not feeling comfortable leaving Peter alone for this much longer than he wished to be.

“Boss, I’m sending out a medical team to you location, and advised Ms Romanoff and Mr Barnes to make their way over to your location as well.”

“What the fuck does that mean?”

“It means that I currently have visuals on Peter, and you need to prepare yourself. He’ll need a lot of support after today and you’ll need to be there, Boss.”

Tony bursts into a run at those words, feeling the uneasiness take over his being, as he turned the corner and into the alley, looking for the right fire escape before pulling down the ladder and climbing it at record speed.

“Tony, do you copy us?” Natasha voice came through FRIDAY.

“Yeah, yeah, you guys got here fast.”

“Do you know what the situation is?” Barnes asked.

“No idea, but FRIDAY think its really bad, I just go to the window where Peter and the other guy is.”

Tony paused for a moment, before peeking up over the window sill and looking in.

Peter was face down on a counter, his head turned towards the window that Tony was looking in, his eyes were glassy and unseeing, tears streaming down his face. Peter wasn’t wearing any clothing, his body covered in bruises and welts. He was being jerked forwards and pulled back again a rhythm set by the man behind him abusing Peter.

Tony dropped back down as to not be seen from the next piece of Iron Man Roadkill.

“I’m going to kill him. Gonna make it a nice slow death, really gonna kill him.” Tony muttered, peeling the mask off his face, wanting the man who is hurting his kid to know who is killing him.

“I need someone here right now before I take his head off and throw it into the East River.”

Tony grabbed his watch pulling it into a gauntlet, before breaking in the window. It worried Tony how Peter continued to not react, where the other man knew he was caught, pulling away from Peter, and tucking himself back into his pants, and trying to make a run for it. Tony blasted him with his repulsor, forcing the man to the ground.

Natasha and Barnes kicked the door down, guns pointed at the man on the ground advising Tony to go to Peter. Tony nods, turning back to his broken kid, who stayed exactly in his position half on and half off the counter. Tony went around the counter to be in front of Peter’s face.

“Peter? Hey, hey, it’s me, it’s Tony, you like to call me Mr Stark for some forsaken reason. Things are going to be okay now, right? You can come back to us whenever you feel safe, okay?” Tony made sure to not touch Peter, not wanting to scare him any further.

Peter’s eyes still held no sign of Peter actually being present at the time, which Tony was sure was probably for the best right now as the medical team showed up. Thankfully FRIDAY sent Helene Cho and her team, and not someone that Tony didn’t trust with everything he had in them.

“Stark, you know we’re going to have to do a Rape Kit, right? It’d be best to do it as soon as possible before we have to clean the evidence off of him.” Helene spoke, before moving on to Peter, speaking softly to him.

It felt like a century before Peter was finally being loaded in the of the Med-Evac van and being brought to the tower, as SHIELD took pictures and collected evidence of the ‘altercation’ that happened in the apartment.

~~~~

“Where’s Peter?” May asked Tony, as Tony met her in the lobby of the tower.

“He’s in the Medbay. He doesn’t look good, May. He’s not even responsive right now, it’s really bad.” Tony explained, leading her up to where Peter is being kept.

“Who did this to my baby? I’ll kill them with my bare hands.” May’s face was red, as she shook her head. She had a bag of some comfort items that Peter’s used in the past, having being told what happened earlier on the phone.

“His name is Scott Wescott.” Tony answered. “He was an in-”

“Inmate at Queens Detention Facility. Prosecuted for sexually assaulting a minor, who was Peter by the way. Pardoned 3 months ago on good behavior. But he goes by Skip. I’m going to kill him.”

“Wait, he’s done this to Peter before?”

“I don’t know how I didn’t notice, again. I’m supposed to be his guardian, but then this doesn’t just happen to Peter once, but twice. It was all the same signs, I just thought this time it was because Skip got released, not because he was going through the same trauma again.”

“It’s not your fault, May, we all should have noticed that something was up with him. Peter started to shut us all out, he probably didn’t want any of us to know.”

May nodded as they finally made it to Peter’s room. Tony opened the door for her letting her in as he went in after May. Peter’s eyes were still blank as he was placed on the bed in a sitting position. Helene had said Peter has disassociated in a way to protect himself and that it may take him a little while to come out of it.

May had walked up to Peter, speaking softly to him, starting to pull some items out of the bag. First was a sweater that she put around Peter’s shoulders, then a thick knit blanket, and a stuffed bear. There was a few other things that she pulled out as well, but nothing seemed to work, Peter just continued to sit there.

“I’m going to go get us some coffee, I’ll be right back.” Tony spoke softly to May, before getting up from his seat and leaving Peter’s room.

Tony made it to elevator before feeling himself start to crack. He pinched his nose, holding in his breath and counting to 10 and breathing out, trying to compartmentalize these emotions away, until a time that Peter doesn’t need him.

“Tony, why didn’t you tell me Peter was in the MedBay? Was it from patrol or did something else happen? Why didn’t you call me?” Harley asked as soon as the elevator doors opened again, following Tony into the kitchen.

“Harls, I just left Peter’s room. I don’t know if he wants you to see him the way he is right now. He’s conscience but mentally in a really bad spot right now. Not to throw salt in the wound, but he probably broke up with you because he didn’t want you to see him when all this started.”

“When all this started? You can’t say things like that without letting me see him. Please Tony, I still care about him a lot, please let me see him, just for like 5 minutes.” Harley begged as his accent got thicker and voice started to crack, his face getting redder.

“I’ll ask May, she’s his guardian and gets to make the final decision on these things. Now help me make some coffee for May and I. Maybe some hot cocoa for yourself and Peter too, I wanna try and get him to ingest something.”

They make the drinks and make their way back downstairs to the MedBay. Harley stops outside of Peter’s room as Tony steps back in. Peter is still unresponsive, but May grabs the coffee from him and giving an attempt of a smile.

“There’s a love sick Tennessee boy out there hoping to get the chance to see Peter. He told only wants five minutes, I told him you got the final word on visitation.”

“Yeah, better for him to see Peter then wonder what Peter is like right now. Let him in.”

“Harley, you can come in.” Tony called out.

The teen boy stumbled into the room, holding a hot cocoa for himself and one for Peter. He stopping in his tracks, seeing the blank look on Peter’s face, how Peter wasn’t registering anything, that he was essentially a shell of who everyone grew to know Peter to be.

“Peter?” Harley barely whispered.

Harley seemed to crack, moving forward and putting the two drinks on the beside table and moving to Peter’s side. Harley rest a hand on Peter’s cheek, whispering his name again. This time Peter’s eyes snapped to attention, watching Harley with fear in his eyes, shaking his head as he pushed himself away.

“Hey, baby. Baby you’re okay, no one is going to hurt you anymore. You’re safe it’s okay.” May spoke quickly as Harley pulled his hand away from Peter’s face.

Peter turned to her, his eyes wide and watery as he tried his hardest not to sob, soothing himself back down into a calmer but anxiety filled state. Peter took the opportunity to look around the room, gaining the bearing of where he is. After a few moments Peter turned onto his side, making himself small and going to sleep.

~~~~

“Peter, I’ve been your therapist for the last two months, and while we’ve made a lot of progress you’ve still not spoken yet. Is there any reason why?”

Today was a group therapy session, the therapist felt it was important for those to happen twice a month until some major improvements were made in Peter’s mental health. The therapy had been grueling on Peter. For the first few sessions he would only shrug or choose not to respond, but now he seemed to nod of shake his head, pointing at things when he felt was necessary.

Group therapy only ever consisted of Peter, Tony and May, the ones deemed the most ‘affected’ by the situation. (Mainly because May was Peter’s guardian and Tony was like his Dad, so maybe it was more like family therapy sessions rather than group therapy, but they never named themselves a family.

Peter sighed at the question given to him, looking up at the ceiling and moving his head from side to side in consideration. He wanted to speak, wanted to talk again, but it seemed so hard. It seemed nearly impossible. Skip didn’t want him to tell people what happened. And Peter didn’t know how to tell anyone. Suddenly nothing good has happening anymore, and Peter was running out of words. He just wanted to go to sleep and never wake up again.

Peter took a sip of his water.

“No one- no one noticed what happened.” Peter’s voice was rough, felt like he was swallowing sand paper. It crackled and popped, dropping in pitch before rising again. It wasn’t his voice at all, but his voice all the same. “Promised it would never happen again. Then it did, and I was gonna tell May, I swear, I swear, but she wasn’t home, worked a double the second first time it happened. Then it happened the next day, and that was May’s night for an evening shift. And then it happened again and I was supposed to go out with Harley. Then weekend at the compound, and it was a break from everything. I couldn’t tell anyone. No one noticed. Felt like I was dying everyday, and everyone is happy and smiling and not noticing that something was wrong and that I want to die. It was never supposed to happen again, but it kept happening and no one noticed. No one noticed what was happening.”

May burst into tears, wiping her face as she kept apologizing on repeat. Tony held her hand trying to comfort her the best he can. He wiped away a few stray tears of his own, wishing he’d noticed sooner, that he wasn’t so full of himself that it cost Peter so much of his own life. But this wasn’t a pity session for May or Tony, it was about healing the fragmented pieces of Peter’s heart and moving forward from this all again.

“So you believe it’s hard to speak, because no one noticed you were being raped? That no one noticed that you were pulling into yourself? Because no one noticed you hardly ate and didn’t leave your apartment unless necessary.” The therapist said and Peter nodded. “I think you’ve not spoken until now because you didn’t believe you were worth saving, and you believed you deserved what you were getting. You didn’t believe you were worth saving, but now that you were saved, now that you just spoke, Peter I think you’re starting to believe you’re worth saving too.”

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valkyrieofthehighfae · 4 years

Text

Chapter 1

Alright guys I’m dropping the other series I’ve been working on alongside Eternally Yours! This one touches on some serious subject matters, so I will ask that if you are under 18, you skip this particular series! Summery: Valkyrie has lived a tough life on the streets on the lower levels in Coruscant, working as a dishwasher in a club known as The Crypt. She’s promoted to dancer on her seventeenth birthday where her life begins to spiral into a host of problems: drug use, plastic surgery, alcohol abuse, and an unsavory relationship with the owner of the club’s son, Grave. She manages to partially pull herself from the darkness to become a medic with her brother’s help, wanting to make something of herself. She finds herself falling for her best friend, Fives, the realization of her feelings sending her down a rabbit hole she never thought she’d find herself in again. Valkyrie has to decide what she wants out of life and it may not be an easy decision for her to make once feelings get involved.

Warnings: Drug use, mentions of plastic surgery, potential alcohol abuse, and some brief smut

Join my taglist here Tagging: @mcu-padawan Word Count: 2.6k Also, if anyone catches the references I make to a certain movie throughout this series, you are awesome as hell!

“Astrid Valkyria Nightdancer, where the hell do you think you’re going?”

The sound of my brother’s voice booming in our apartment had me jumping a foot into the air, my bag slipping from my hands and hitting the ground in front of me. I quickly picked it up, clutching it to my chest as I scuffed my foot across the tile flooring, not meeting Ivar’s stern gaze.

“Koyi invited me to sleepover tonight for my birthday. Her mom and dad said it was okay. I… didn’t think you’d mind since you know them.” I mumbled. I could practically feel the anger radiating off of my brother in waves, flinching as he stomped over to the door and locked it again.

“You know you’re not allowed out without someone with you! What, were you just going to walk to Koyi’s apartment building alone? At night? Do you not remember what happened to mom and dad? And the rest of our brothers? You’re only ten, you shouldn’t be out there alone!” The anger in his voice died away to a quiet pain that he tried to hide with a stern glare, but I could see it in his mismatched eyes, a slight glimmer of tears there.

“It’s not like they live that far! I can handle a five minute walk, Ivar!” I snapped at him, shouldering my pack and glaring at him angrily, my arms crossed over my chest. It wasn’t fair, I didn’t get to do anything normal kids my age did; I couldn’t go to school, I wasn’t allowed to go out and play, I couldn’t even walk five minutes to my best friend’s apartment. “Those stupid cartels aren’t gonna come here! Stop treating me like a baby! It’s not fair! I can’t do anything!”

“This isn't up for debate, Astrid. You’re not going and that’s final. Go to your room.” Ivar snapped back, a scowl darkening his face again.

“I hate you. This is the worst birthday ever!” Tears burned in my eyes as I ran past him to my room, throwing my pack onto my bed. It just wasn’t fair, all I wanted was to go have fun with Koyi. I worked hard to get perfect grades with my tutor, I always followed the rules even though I hated them, and the one time I wanted to do something just for me, I was told no. Again. I wiped my eyes with the back of my hand and after a moment of standing in the middle of my room, I grabbed my bag, stuffing as much stuff into it as possible, and went over to my window, pusing it open and slipping out into the cover of darkness, running as fast as I could away from this prison of a home.

~*~*~

[2 years later]

I stood up on a small ladder so I could reach the sink, frowning slightly as I scrubbed plates and silverware clean, placing them into large racks while I waited for the dishwasher to finish up with the first load of dishware so I could get a second load going.

“Valkyrie! Doing good work there kid. Keep it up and you’ll get a small raise from the boss.” Rokra, a burly looking Togruta who ran the kitchen I worked in, barked at me, a grin lighting up his scarred face. Rokra had found me scavenging for leftovers in the alleyway almost six months ago and brought me in for a proper meal. I hadn’t been doing too bad for myself out on the streets since leaving home, but some days were harder than others to get actual food and not just scraps or even nothing at all. When Rokra stepped in, I was going on nearly a week and a half with nothing to eat, so I jumped at the chance to get something fresh and hot in my belly, scarfing my meal down like a rabid lothcat.

“You really think so?” I lit up at the idea of getting more credits, even if it was just a small amount. I got paid under the table in Rokra’s words, so it was all in actual credits at payday. I kept them hidden away in a small jewelry box Delphine had gotten me as a little gift for being a good helper around The Crypt. When I wasn’t washing dishes, I was helping the dancers like Delphine keep their things cleaned up and organized, and Delphi was my favorite of all the girls; she reminded me a lot of my mom, so I stuck close to her whenever I could to find some comfort and affection. She and Rokra had taken on the role of parents for me, both of them teaching me when they could and making sure I was well taken care of.

“Absolutely, little one. You’re a hard worker and have proven that time and time again. Now go on, I think Delphine’s got some new books for you to read.” He laughed, ruffling my hair. I made a face at him, reaching up with a small hand to push my hair out of my face so I could see where I was going.

“There you are! Come here, let me do your hair.” Delphine smiled when I peeked into the dressing room, motioning for me to enter. I bounded over to the red head, taking a seat on the stool she pulled out for me and waited impatiently as she ran a brush through my too long and tangled hair. “I’m going to braid it back, alright? Where are your rings and beads?”

I fished out the traditional rings and beads my mother had crafted for me out of durasteel, carving runes of protection into the metal, and put them carefully into Delphi’s outstretched hand. “Delphi, you’re shaking. Are you okay?” I turned to crane my head so I could look at her, brow furrowing as I really looked at her. Her honey colored eyes were dull and listless, dark circles blemishing her pale skin, giving her an almost haunted look to her thin face. Something was wrong, but I couldn’t figure out what it was and that scared me.

“I’m alright sweetheart. Vados has some medication he’s going to bring me in a while that will help. Now turn around so I can fix your hair,” She sighed, motioning for me to turn around. I made a face at the mention of Vados; he was the head bouncer of The Crypt, a big Zabrak with a terrifying scowl on his face at all times of the day and night. He towered over me and while he didn’t go out of his way to scare me on purpose, he didn’t exactly do anything to try and not scare me, either. I didn’t like him at all, avoiding him as much as possible.

“Are you sick?” I wanted to turn around to look at her so badly, but I knew I had to wait until she was done with my hair.

“Sort of, yes. Once I get that blue medicine, I’ll be okay.” Delphine’s voice was soft, soothing. I knew what medicine she was talking about, it came in a little glass vial and was a bright electric blue in color, and it made the dancers act strange whenever they got it.

“Oh, okay. Rokra said you got me some new books! When can I read them?” I could finally turn around so I could look at her, eager to see what she’d found in one of the little shops here on the lower levels of Coruscant.

“Come on, let’s get them now. You can read me a story tonight after my set.” A smile bloomed on Delphine’s thin, gaunt face as she got to her feet slowly. I was practically quivering with excitement as she lurched towards her locker, opening it to reveal three small books with beautiful covers made of leather and gold lettering painted on the front of them.

“Delphie, these are beautiful! Thank you so much!” I hugged her tightly before carefully taking them in hand. Books were a rare thing to find for people like us, so I made sure to take very good care of the ones Delphie was lucky to find, especially with how expensive they are. I knew she would use most of her paycheck to get me these amazing little trinkets and books and clothes, telling me to save my credits so I could make something of myself when I got older. “Delphine? I… thank you. I really appreciate how much you and Rokra have done for me since I arrived here.”

~*~*~

[5 years later]

Nervousness bubbled in my stomach as I knocked on the door of the bosses office, waiting for him to respond before entering the plush room, cigar smoke floating towards me, making my nose burn from the acrid scent that had me wrinkling my nose in disgust for a very brief moment. Grave, his son, was lounging in one of the overstuffed chairs, a very slight grin tugging at his black painted lips as he looked me up and down in interest.

“You wanted to see me sir?” I cleared my throat, biting my lip anxiously, wondering what I could have possibly done to warrant getting called into his office.

“Yes, that’s right my dear. Today’s your seventeenth birthday, isn’t it?” His voice was rough, gravelly, and carried a strange lilt to it as he questioned me about my birthday.

“Yes sir, it is.”

“Well happy birthday, my dear. I have an offer for you; how would you like to move up from being my hostess to my newest dancer? Since Delphine... left, I’ve been one dancer short for our VIP guests and you’ve grown up to be quite the looker. You’d make far more credits and I think you’d make a fine addition up there on stage.” Golden eyes gleamed and I beamed excitedly at his words.

“Really? You want me to be a dancer? Yes! I’ve wanted to dance since I was a dishwasher!” I squealed, clapping my hands excitedly. This was so unexpected but I couldn’t be happier about the offer.

“Excellent. Grave, why don’t you get our newest dancer set up?” Boss man dismissed us with a wave of his hand, going back to reading through his datapads. Grave got to his feet and motioned for me to come with him, taking my hand in his when he didn’t think I was coming along fast enough. My cheeks flushed when he glanced down at me, grinning flirtatiously as he twined our fingers together.

“Come on Baby Doll, let’s get you taken care of,” His voice was husky, his dark eyes gleaming with a mischief that matched his tone so well. “I’ll take good care of you.” His words had my heart fluttering in my chest, that smile making me weak in the knees. I tilted my head curiously when he led me into his room, motioning for me to sit on his bed while he dug around in his desk for something, muttering under his breath before finding whatever it was he’d been looking for.

“What’s that?” I tried to get a good look at whatever it was but Grave only shook his head in response. “Fine, don’t tell me then. Are you always this secretive?” I couldn’t help but pout a little, wondering just what it was he was hiding behind his back.

“Maybe. Come here,” He held his free hand out to me. “I’ll let you see the surprise in a moment.” I took his hand, gasping when he pressed his lips to mine, one hand on the back of my neck while the hand that had been behind his back came up to my inner thigh, a sharp, stabbing feeling followed by a quick electric jolt hit me. A sudden rush of numbness coursed through my veins, sending my body into a sort of state of shock from how quickly my limbs went limp and felt as if they weighed a ton. If Grave hadn’t of been holding me up, I would have hit the floor like a sack of duracrete blocks. Whatever he injected me with, it was fast acting and left me in an almost drunken state of being, and I quickly found myself blacking out.

Pain was the first thing I felt when I finally came to who knows how later, the burning and aching radiating from my chest and the injection site, bringing tears to my eyes as I lay in a bed that I knew wasn’t mine. My mouth was drier than Tatooine, my head pounding horribly when I tried to open my eyes, wincing at the light shining down in my face.

“What -?” I croaked out, holding a hand up to try and block the light some. “Where am I?”

“Easy, you had quite the surgery Baby Doll. You need to take it easy,” A voice I sort of recognized murmured in my ear. “Let me get you a drink.”

“Grave? What happened?” I blinked a few times, trying to clear my vision. Grave came back over with a glass of what I hoped was water, carefully helping me sit up so I could get a drink. I took a large gulp of the liquid, coughing hard at the vile taste, shoving the cup away from me. Whatever was in that cup, it definitely wasn’t water.

“You need to drink it, Baby Doll. It’s going to speed up your recovery.” Grave insisted, forcing the cup back to my lips to make me drink. Once he was satisfied that I’d finished it, he set the cup aside with a smile and reached out to stroke my cheek tenderly. “Good girl babe. Come on, let’s get you back to sleep.” He soothed in the honeyed voice of his, his hands easing me back against the mattress.

“Grave, what did you do to me?” My voice was barely above a whisper, pain making it hard to talk. It was then I noticed my chest felt heavier and I looked down to see I had wrappings around my breasts. “What did you do?”

“It’s nothing to worry about, Baby Doll. It’s just a simple breast implant surgery. You need to rest babe, let’s get you a dose of Zydrate to help you relax.” Grave got up and pulled out the familiar glass vial and gun that I’d seen used on the other dancers, placing it against my other thigh and injecting me again. That same rush of numbness flowed through my entire body once again, the pain vanishing completely. This time, though, I felt a strange heat fanning out from my belly down to my feet and up into my throat, an all too familiar pulsing between my legs catching my attention. Grave leaned down to catch my lips in a heated kiss that I found myself returning eagerly, twining my fingers in his long, soft, chestnut colored hair. His hands slid up my thighs, fingers deftly removing my pants, tossing them aside along with the lacy, lavender panties I’d been wearing, his thick fingers exploring my folds, sliding along my clit, drawing a moan from my mouth.

“Grave, wait, I’m… I’ve never slept with anyone.” My voice went hoarse when I felt him slide two fingers into my hot core.

“I’ll take it nice and slow, Baby Doll, don’t worry.” He groaned into my neck, placing an open mouthed kiss onto the hollow of my throat. “You’re my girl, I’ll always take care of you.” I closed my eyes, sinking down into darkness.

#Kat writes #Valkyrie #drug use tw #smut #18+ please #alcohol abuse tw #slightly unsavory relationship tw #Fives x OC #Fives x Valkyrie #eventual friends to lovers

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spookyold-saintjm · 4 years

Note

Aaaa saw you were taking requests. Reader x Wilford where the reader hates Christmas bc it's never been fun, so Wilf makes it fun for them???

OKAY SO I had been working on a longer piece for a WHILE now that I was gonna post that has a very similar element so I’ll just post it here. Hopefully that’s okay! It’s technically Dark x reader but it’s a lot of Wilford being an absolute cinnamon roll baby too so. Enjoy x

Spirit of the Season

Darkiplier x reader, platonic!Wilford x reader

Warnings: alcohol consumption

Word Count: 2,239

—

You frowned at Dark from across the room. His back was to you, but you glared at his face reflected in the mirror that he stood in front of to adjust his tie.

“So you’re really going to work today instead of helping me decorate.” You tilted your head, waiting for an answer.

Dark let out a soft sigh, but you saw the flicker of exasperation in his eyes when he looked back at you in the mirror. “Darling, I have things much less…juvenile to take care of today.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “The holidays aren’t juvenile. They’re about coming together and enjoying being with people you care about,” you replied, crossing your arms.

“…You know my feelings for you.” Dark replied, staring back at you flatly.

“That’s not the—“ you dropped your hands to your sides, letting out a short breath. “You know what, never mind. I’ll do it myself.”

You stormed out of your shared bedroom, taking a moment to close your eyes and take in a deep breath once you stood alone in the long hallway.

God forbid you and Dark spend time together. There were the occasional dinners, the nights spent wide awake under the sheets when he hungered for the feeling of your body beneath his own…

Beyond that, you hadn’t even seen him all that much lately. Maybe it was sufficient for him, but for you it was only enough to bring tears to your eyes. You missed him.

You’d made efforts to get him involved in the holiday hype, telling him more than once about the day you’d set aside for decorating the house, and when he’d replied with short nods and small smiles of affirmation, you’d assumed that meant he was going to be there to help when the day came around.

Now you were realizing how wrong you were. He likely hadn’t even given it a second thought.

You wiped the corners of your eyes, and with another deep breath turned to head down the hall, then down the staircase that led into the room you’d planned to decorate, the boxes of sparkling red, green, silver and gold stacked against the far wall. A few were things that had been lying around from previous years spent there, others from the shopping trip you’d taken a few days prior and loaded up on everything you could possibility need to bring the holiday spirit into the house. You were new to this place, and you wanted to make it special. And you decided you would, with or without Dark’s help.

You weren’t working for too long before you felt another presence in the room, well, heard another presence, anyways. A heavy thud followed by a string of cursing caused you to spin around, nearly falling off the step stool you stood on to assemble the tree in the corner of the room.

“Who put these damned boxes in th—oh, y/n!” Wilford grinned up at you, flipping away the hair that had fallen in his face when he’d nearly tripped over one of the decoration boxes. “What’re you up to over there, my friend?”

“Hey, Wil,” you answered lightly. You stepped back down onto the floor. and looked over to him as you dusted off your hands. “I was just doing some decorating. It’s that time of year, you know.”

“Oh, do I ever!” Wiford’s grin broadened as he looked down excitedly at the contents inside the boxes you’d now spread throughout the room. You couldn’t help but smile a bit at the light sparkling in his eyes.

“Say, I figured ol’ Darky-boy would be with you today?” he asked with a tilt of his head.

Your smile instantly dropped. You shrugged and turned your head to pretend to search for something in another box, hoping that he hadn’t seen the sudden shift in your posture as the thought of your morning with Dark came flooding back. “Not today, he’s…he’s busy.”

You could have sworn Wilford paused for a beat to consider before replying. “Well that’s a shame, he’s going to miss out on all the fun we’re going to have!”

“…what kind of fun?” you asked, unsure of what he meant.

Wilford gestured to the boxes surrounding the both of you as if it were obvious. “Well there’s no way you can do all this by yourself, right? Where do you want me to start?!”

He was practically jumping out of his skin with excitement, and this time your smile remained on your lips when you answered him. “I was just getting ready to decorate the tree.”

—

“How does it look?”

“A little to the left.”

“So here?“

“OTHER left, Wil!”

You withheld the giggle threatening to escape your lips, half-worried that if you laughed any more in one day your lungs would give out. You stood behind Wilford as he was perched on one of the higher rungs of a ladder, attempting to hang a large wreath over the stone fireplace on the opposite side of the room.

“Riiiiight….there! Okay stop! I SAID STOP!”

“I DID STOP!” Wilford shouted back at you, nearly losing his balance as he, too, started to laugh again. He, carefully as he could, placed a hook, then eventually the wreath itself, onto the wall.

About half an hour into your decorating, you both had decided it was also a good time to break out some of the wine you’d bought a few days prior. It had originally been reserved for your next dinner with Dark but…well, when would that even be, anyways?

Wilford rushed down the ladder to take a few steps back and stood next to you to look at his work. He dramatically flipped his head, flinging the white ball of the Santa hat he was now wearing to the back of his head.

“Looks good!” You stated with an approving nod.

“Looks great!” Wilford replied, wrapping his arm around your shoulders, only slightly stumbling when he did so. “We make a great decorating team. Say, we should start our own business! We’d make a fortune, I mean look at this place!“

You nodded, your head swiveling around the room with a warm sense of satisfaction. “You’re a genius! We’ll get started right away, you know, when my vision isn’t, uh, doing what it’s doing.”

You rubbed your eyes in a vain effort to knock out the faint swimming of your vision. “Actually.,.” you quickly added, “I’m gonna sit down for a sec. I’m a little dizzy.”

Wilford chuckled and followed you as you collapsed back onto the couch and took a moment to close your eyes. You let out a quiet sigh when you opened them again, slowly admiring the warm glow of the room once more, now covered in lights and colors, stars and snowflakes, candy canes and snowmen.

You noticed Wilford doing the same just before he turned his head toward you, his own eyes slightly foggy from the wine. “Did you used to do this sort of thing…where you’re from? Where you grew up?”

“Well…” you shook your head slowly. “Actually, no. My family, well, ‘kind of’ family I guess, didn’t really do this sort of thing. Ever.”

A small frown appeared on Wilford’s face. “Well, that’s no fun at all.”

You shrugged. “It never bothered me too much. But I wanted to…give it a try this year. There were just times when…I don’t know, is it weird to miss something you’ve never had?”

“Hm,” Wilford considered, scratching his chin and staring up at the ceiling in thought. “I don’t think so.”

“Thanks,” you replied. You smiled slightly at him. “Thanks for making me feel more welcome here. Dark wasn’t sure me being here was the best idea at first…”

You paused, wishing you hadn’t brought up Dark. The pain of feeling so distant from him lately began to poke at your stomach. You reached for the wine glass you’d set down onto the side table next to you.

Fortunately, Wilford cut in. “Are you kidding?! Everyone adores you! Things were starting to get a little boring around here, and that’s the last thing we need. Besides, you put ol’ Darky in a much better mood.”

“I’m not so sure about that right now. He…” you put the glass to your lips and took a sip of the warm liquid before you could keep going. “He hasn’t been…around, lately.”

“Oh, he can be an absolute ass, of course!” Wilford replied, curling the tip of his mustache around two of his fingers, “But give him time to come back around. He has his reasons."

You put the glass back down on the table and nodded slightly. “I hope you’re right, Wil. Thanks.”

“S’what friends are for, y/n,” he grinned, wrapping you into a quick, tight hug.

The two of you sat for a few more moments, enjoying the last of your wine and planning what you might do to decorate other rooms in the house, when a faint ringing suddenly registered in your ears. Which could only mean one thing. One person, to be specific.

“Oh, hell, here he comes.” Wilford muttered.

Dark stepped from around the corner, a faint black mist trailing behind him but quickly vanishing as his full form materialized into the room. He stopped dead in his tracks and stared at the sight of a very tipsy you with a very tipsy Wilford.

“Helloo, old friend!” Wilford waved at him lazily. “Care to join us?” he picked up the bottle resting on the coffee table and gave it a slight shake. “I think we’ve finished off most of this one,” he looked to another bottle, “and ah, well that one is long gone, but there’s—“

“No.” Dark’s voice was low when he finally spoke. His eyes met yours, and you felt like you could shatter on the spot. “y/n, a moment?”

Wilford quickly rose from his seat, turning to you for the quickest moment with a slight, reassuring smile and a sly wink.

“Alright, I can take a hint. I’m going, I’m going! Don’t worry, pal.” Wilford made his way across the room, patting Dark on the shoulder before stumbling around the corner into the next room. Dark visibly stiffened at the touch, but said nothing until Wilford’s footsteps had faded into silence.

You hadn’t moved other than to stand from the couch. The room should have been tilting and wobbling around you, but seeing Dark, being in the room with him again had somehow sobered you enough to make your vision clear as ever. Yet you felt frozen in place as his stare seemed to hold you down in the spot.

“I see you had some…help, today.” Dark stated. His eyes quickly flickered around the room before meeting yours again.

“I did,” you replied carefully. “Did you finish your work?"

“No.”

“Oh.”

A beat of silence passed between you, but before you could think of something else to say, Dark was near you, one of his hands grasping one of yours.

“Sit down,” he commanded. You nodded and returned to the couch, Dark following to sit down beside you. Your bodies turned toward each other, Dark let out a slow, heavy sigh.

“y/n” he started, “I know I haven’t been…near, lately.” You straightened, preparing for wherever this might go.

But Dark’s voice was unusually quiet, oddly gentle, when he continued. “I have been at war with my mind, with…” he paused, searching for words, “with whatever semblance of a heart I may have left. And in my struggle to face what has overcome me, I have been vastly unfair to you, someone I swore to protect not only in their time of need, but far beyond.”

Your own heart was now thundering inside your chest, your stomach in knots. “Dark, please just tell me what you’re trying to say,” you muttered, closing your eyes and shaking your head. “I can’t—“

“I love you, y/n. I think I’ve loved you for some time now.” Dark’s hands again reached for yours, pulling them onto his lap. “I didn’t know what it was, I don’t understand how in this body I can feel this. But I know I do. And I understand if, after all this time, you wouldn’t feel the same…”

Maybe it was the wine, but you went against all instinct and all but threw yourself onto him, your lips connecting in a long, slow, silent kiss. You had one hand tangled into his hair while the other rested on the back of his neck; his arms wrapped around your body, his hands pressed on your back and urged you closer.

“I love you, Dark. I do. Of course I do,” you muttered, resting your forehead against his once your lips had parted. “I’ve loved you for so long.”

You stayed like that, for how long you weren’t certain, each taking in the closeness of the other. When you finally pulled away after a final, softer, kiss, you slowly reached down into the floor, where a small box contained a large, gold star.

“Do you…” you tilted your eyes up to meet Dark’s, almost embarrassed to ask at this point. “I saved this, for the top of the tree, in case you, maybe…"

In a rare moment, Dark smiled at you. “I would be honored, my love."

—

taglist: @veryobsessivefan thanks for the motivation to finally finish this lol @aheistwithyaboi @wilfords-pink-afro thought you might enjoy this :)

#the fluff is ridiculous here #wow this is so long oops #wilford warfstache x reader #darkiplier x reader #wilford warfstache imagine #darkiplier imagine #spookyold-answers #requests #veryobsessivefan

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boreum-dal · 4 years

Text

la confiture, pt. iii

fandom: miraculous ladybug (adrinette, nino/alya)

summary: marinette dupain-cheng is one step closer to her dream of becoming a top chef when she's hired to cook at the famed restaurant, la confiture. but to get to the top, she's got to surpass adrien agreste, her rival and the son of la confiture's owner.

too bad he's so sweet that he's nearly impossible to dislike.

and too bad she loves when he invites her over after work to test out new dishes at his apartment.

and too bad his relationship with his father makes her want to hold him and never let him go.

and--just like that, her dreams don't seem so simple anymore.

“Marinette…”

Marinette turned around, too surprised to do anything besides look at Adrien’s hand, just barely touching her arm, and then up at his eyes, dazed and full of… What was that? Confusion? Appreciation? Something she didn’t know how to name. She wondered vaguely to herself how they could look so green and vibrant in the dim lamplight of his foyer. It wasn’t fair.

“Why... Why are you doing this for me?” Adrien asked, his voice quiet.

Marinette felt her heart drop, a soft breath escaping her. Oh, Adrien. “Because you’re my friend, of course. And I didn’t want you to be sick and alone with no one to help you.”

cross-posted: ao3

prev: i | ii

la confiture

part iii.

Comment from Chat Noir on “Chocolate-Glazed Marble Cake”

1:31 AM

22/1

Hi, Ladybug! I hope you take comfort in the fact that the cake looked delicious, even if not the most aesthetically pleasing. It’s unfortunate that one of your cakes broke, but the other looked beautiful when it came out of the oven! I also totally sympathize with your frustration with tempering the chocolate for the glaze. Truth be told, for things like glaze, I find it’s much easier to do away with couverture and just go with a big slab of chocolate compound. You won’t have to deal with the mattifying effect you described, and the glaze will look professional grade. Thanks as always for your wonderful posts. They really do make my week!

Reply Comment from Ladybug to Chat Noir on “Chocolate-Glazed Marble Cake”

2:40 AM

22/1

Chat Noir, thank you for the solid advice. I did a little reading on compounds after your post and am sad that I put myself through the pains of tempering couverture chocolate now, ha. Thanks also for your kind words. I always love getting to know my followers, but I’d like to say I’m so happy you’ve become a regular commenter these last few weeks. These days, I find myself wondering what you will have to say in particular about my dishes with each post! Please take care.

---

“How is it that you stop by the restaurant and talk to Nino one time and land a date within five minutes of meeting him?”

Alya laughed. “I’m a charmer, what can I say?”

Marinette shook her head as she whisked a bit of cream into the sauce she was simmering. “You really are. Well, he’s a wonderful guy, and I actually think you would get along really well. I’m not sure why I didn’t think to introduce you two before. Here, come try this.”

Alya hopped off of her seat on one of the barstools by Marinette’s kitchen counter, wine glass in hand, and let Marinette tip a spoonful of sauce into her mouth. “Oh, that is so good.”

“Yeah?” Marinette grinned. “That’s great—I’ve been trying for days now to lessen the amount of cream I use in this sauce to make it less heavy, but it’s been really hard to replicate the taste.”

“Guess you found a winner! I can’t wait to eat. So tell me more about Nino.” Alya leaned back against the counter beside Marinette and took a sip of her wine.

Marinette glanced up as she continued to stir, thinking. “Mm... Well, he’s very easygoing, a good conversationalist, and a good listener. He doesn’t get riled up easily, but he’ll also stand his ground. It kind of makes him the perfect bartender, because he can talk with anyone and nothing will ruffle his feathers, not even the worst customer or Gabriel Agreste on his worst day. Plus, he’s so nice.”

“And cute,” Alya added.

Marinette giggled. “And cute. I think he’s also interested in music? He mentioned DJing at a few places before he started working as our bartender.”

“So that’s how he got tickets to that show!”

“What show?”

“The one he’s taking me to for our date. It’s a really popular DJ on his European tour. Those tickets were sold out weeks ago.”

“Somehow, it doesn’t shock me that you’re going to a club for your first date,” Marinette said, laughing.

“Hey, now. I’m not a cheap date. He’s taking me to dinner first!” Alya grinned. “Also, he mentioned to me he’s close with your little chef prince.”

Marinette frowned as she turned the stove down and removed her pan from the heat. “My who?”

“Adrien Agreste. So if you’re so close with Nino, why can’t you use him to get closer to Adrien?” Alya reached up into Marinette’s cupboards and began to pull down plates.

Marinette snorted. “How would I even do that?”

“I don’t know, like figure out if they ever hang out outside of work and then tag along with Nino!”

“Okay, now that would be shameless,” Marinette said, giggling. She carefully began plating the steak and mushroom marsala. “Just too weird. Nino and I aren’t nearly close enough for that. Plus, I don’t need to get any closer to Adrien.”

Alya frowned. “Why not?”

“It makes me… I don’t know, confused?” Marinette said, keeping her eyes on the plates. “It’s simpler not to know him well. Like you said, it’s much harder to compete with someone I like.”

“There is such a thing as friendly rivalry, you know.”

“I know.” Marinette sighed. “I just preferred when I had tunnel vision and this singular goal with no distractions.”

Alya patted her friend on the back. “Look, Marinette. You’re a fantastic chef. You’re also a fantastic human being. It’s natural that people around you will want to get to know you. I think you can afford to make a few friends while you work your way up the ladder, don’t you think?”

Marinette chewed her lower lip before smiling. “Yeah, I suppose so.”

Alya grinned. “And a little romance wouldn’t hurt, either!”

Marinette laughed and whacked Alya playfully with the dish towel she’d been holding. “As if. Let’s eat!”

---

Marinette stared at the metal numbers glued to Adrien’s front door and wondered to herself how she’d ended up here for the second time in a month. She bounced a bit on her toes, wondering why she was nervous to knock.

Despite what she’d told Alya at dinner a few days ago, she’d caught herself wondering—only when her guard was down—whether Adrien would actually invite her over again. They’d brushed elbows and exchanged glances and jokes at work a few times, and they’d left and locked up together even more, but beyond that, he hadn’t expressed any interest in seeing her outside of the restaurant again. Much to Marinette’s own surprise, she’d found herself disappointed instead of pleased—until he’d asked her out of the blue a few days ago if he’d like to come by on Monday to learn how to make that coffee cake.

Alya’s triumphant cackle when Marinette had told her echoed in her ears.

Whatever, she thought to herself. This is normal. Perfectly fine! I’m excited for no other reason than the fact that we’re friendly coworkers, and he offered to show me some new tricks. Like baking a coffee cake.

She sighed before knocking on the door.

“It’s open!”

The door creaked loudly as Marinette opened it and stepped inside, taking a moment to shiver in pleasure at the burst of warm air. It was frigid outside, and the drafty interior hallways of Adrien’s apartment building were not much better. She glanced around at the kitchen and living area as she shrugged off her coat, but Adrien was nowhere to be seen.

Plagg appeared beside her, butting his head against her ankles. Marinette smiled and reached down to pet him. “Hello, chaton. It’s nice to see you, too.”

“Marinette?”

Marinette looked up, and there was Adrien, dressed in a grey long-sleeved knit and black fitted joggers. She’d never seen him so dressed down before—even when he’d had her over previously, he’d been in jeans and a button-down. It made her feel like he was a little more human, even if a voice in the back of her head reminded her unhelpfully that he still looked quite handsome.

“Hi,” she said, standing up as he came over to take her coat from her. “Thank you for having me over.”

“Anytime.” Adrien smiled, and this close up, Marinette realized he had a dimple in his left cheek. She promptly urged herself to ignore this.

“Sorry I didn’t come to the door—I was digging around in the pantry for the hazelnuts. I thought for a second I was out and nearly panicked. Ready to learn the ways of the Agreste family coffee cake?”

Marinette caught an apron he tossed to her as she followed him into the kitchen area, where Adrien had already set up two stations with all the ingredients they’d need.

She tried to quell her nerves; Adrien had proven himself time and again to be kind and astonishingly nonjudgmental. He wouldn’t make her feel bad once he saw how badly she would botch this cake. Or tell his father and then have a good laugh about it. Right?

“I was born ready.”

“That’s what I like to hear!” Adrien cheered. Plagg looked up at Adrien disdainfully. “Let’s get started, shall we?”

---

“Look at that,” Adrien said softly, peering into the oven window beside Marinette. “You’re a natural.”

Marinette smiled, feeling herself flush. She glanced back into the window of the oven, where her surprisingly not-malformed coffee cake was baking. “We can’t say that just yet, can we? We’ll jinx it. Plus, look at my work station. And myself,” she said, standing up and laughing as she held out her forearms, which were covered entirely in flour.

Adrien chuckled, wiping up a little bit of flour from Marinette’s work station with his finger. “There were... a few mishaps, sure. But what’s important is you soldiered on and didn’t let the mistakes affect your final product!”

“You’re very kind, Adrien.” Marinette grabbed a paper towel and wet it under the sink, intending to wipe the remnants of flour and batter from the counter while they waited for the cake to bake. She paused when she felt a hand on her arm and turned to Adrien, eyes wide.

“We’ll leave that for later,” Adrien said, a grin on his face. “For now, how about a latte? Can’t have coffee cake without coffee.”

Marinette felt her stomach do that same uncomfortable flip it had done when she’d first walked up to his door that afternoon. She swallowed and nodded, trying to ignore it. “U-uh—sure.” She smiled. “A latte sounds nice.”

The two ended up on Adrien’s sofa, artfully poured lattes in hand. Marinette had removed her shoes and her knees were drawn up to her chest, chin resting on them as she relayed to Adrien her experiences growing up in the public school system.

“So you’re still friends with Alya to this day?” Adrien asked, eyes wide. “How old are you?”

“Yes, she’s still my best friend,” Marinette said proudly. “I’m twenty-eight.”

Adrien whistled. “That’s incredible. Twenty years of friendship. I don’t think I’ve known anyone for twenty years except my father.”

He sounded wistful, and Marinette took a moment to observe him more carefully. Adrien sat with his elbows leaning on his knees, hands folded around his cup, bright green eyes staring out at the cityscape beyond his window. His mouth was set in what looked, at first glance, like a neutral line, but when Marinette looked a little closer, she realized that one corner was tilted up—but then, she thought, why did he look sad?

Marinette knew how demanding the life of a chef was. The days they worked were long and tiring, beginning before lunch and often ending in the late hours of the night when the city was already shutting down. The few days they had off consisted of catching up on sleep where they could and then still spending time training to perfect their craft. So in a sense, every chef was probably a little bit deprived of personal relationships compared to the average person.

But Adrien had revealed to Marinette as they’d taken their first few sips of coffee that he had been home-schooled his whole life until he’d attended culinary school. He had been given no chance by his father to even consider working anywhere besides La Confiture upon graduation. And upon learning these things, she’d come to a realization that produced the strangest ache in her chest: Adrien must have been profoundly lonely throughout his childhood. Even in adulthood, it was evident in the way he so readily opened his arms and his home to his colleagues.

“Marinette?”

Marinette startled, nearly spilling her coffee. “Hm?”

Adrien’s lips curled up into a soft smile, and now Marinette’s stomach was doing those stupid flips and that ache in her chest was getting stronger. When he spoke, he sounded amused. “You seemed like you were checked out there for a little bit. Or maybe there’s flour on my face?”

“Oh!” Marinette could feel her face getting hotter by the moment, and she scrambled for something to say. “I—um—I was just thinking—speaking of Alya, did you know that she and Nino are going on a date this weekend?”

Adrien, much to Marinette’s relief, seemed totally distracted by this information. “Is she really? That’s awesome!”

“Yeah! So—maybe one day, if it works out between them, I mean—we can all grab lunch—I mean—that is, I’d love for you to meet her…” Marinette trailed off and tried not to imagine how red her face was by now. Why couldn’t she stop rambling?

Adrien didn’t seem to notice, and instead gave her that same slow smile, electric green eyes trained on hers. “I’d really like that. Thanks, Marinette.”

In lieu of responding—or throwing herself out of his window, which was her preferred reaction—Marinette opted to gulp down the remainder of her latte.

---

“So, how was your date?”

Marinette rolled her eyes. “It wasn’t a date, Alya.”

“You went to his house and baked and had coffee and then he made you dinner! Sounds like a date to me.”

“The dinner was impromptu,” Marinette mumbled into the phone as she settled into bed.

“Dates can be impromptu.”

“Alya,” Marinette groaned. “Can we not? I’m confused enough as it is.”

”Okay, okay. Can you at least tell me how it went?”

“It went fine, of course,” Marinette sighed. “I mean, he was perfectly sweet, he’s a great teacher, and when we talked…”

“When you talked?”

“It was… I just learned so much about him that made me feel… I don’t know, like he needed a friend. Like I should be his friend.”

“Hmm. That’s not the tune you were singing a few days ago.”

“I know,” Marinette said, and then, only because this was Alya she was talking to and no one else, she let herself admit, “But maybe now I’m in too deep.”

Alya was quiet for a moment, and Marinette knew that her friend was thinking of how to respond. Thankfully, she didn’t press the issue.

“So did the cake turn out okay?” Alya asked, pivoting to another subject. “You can use the recipe for your blog!”

”No way. On the off chance he reads my blog, he’d figure out who I was in an instant if I did that.”

“So?”

“So then he’d know that I’m a sham of a chef!”

“Marinette,” Alya said, exasperated. “You are not a sham. You’re working at one of the top restaurants in Paris. The Gabriel Agreste personally called you in to tell you you’re doing a good job. Just because you never attended cooking school or got formal training doesn’t mean you’re not a real chef. If anything, it makes you even more amazing for having gotten where you are today.”

Marinette smiled softly. “Thanks, Alya.”

“You know it. Any time you feel that impostor syndrome coming on and need someone to kick its ass, I’m your girl.”

---

Marinette glanced at her watch as she made her way out of the kitchen. She frowned. It was already past three, and Adrien was nowhere to be seen. By now, he’d normally have already finished whatever prep work he had to do and would have moved on to help the others, cracking terrible jokes that everyone secretly loved. It felt awfully quiet without him around.

Nino called Marinette over from the bar, startling her out of her thoughts.

“What’s up?” Marinette said, taking a seat at one of the stools.

“Looking for Adrien?”

Marinette’s brows shot up to her forehead. “Wh-no, I—”

“It’s okay,” Nino said, laughing. “You don’t have to be embarrassed. I’ve just seen you looking around all afternoon, but I get it because I’ve been worried, too.”

Marinette pursed her lips. “Well, do you know where he is?”

Nino nodded. “He finally texted me back about ten minutes ago. Said he’s at home sick.”

“Sick?” Marinette repeated. Her frown became even more pronounced. “He must be feeling horrible if he couldn’t even come in."

“Yeah, I think so, too. He’s such a workaholic.”

Marinette glanced around to make sure they were relatively alone, and then she leaned in. “How does Chef Agreste feel about it?” she whispered.

Nino shook his head. “He’s in a bad mood. No telling if that’s why, but he’s probably not very happy that Adrien couldn’t make it to work.”

“Of course,” Marinette sighed. Chef Agreste did not strike her as the type of person who easily overlooked even his own son calling in sick on a shift. “Do you know if anyone’s been by to see him?”

“I don’t think so,” Nino said. “I offered to take him some leftovers from the restaurant after we closed up, but he said he’d be okay. I worry about him, though, living by himself and being that ill.”

Marinette turned this information over in her head. Adrien was a grown man, and he could obviously take care of himself—but the picture she had painted of him over the time she’d gotten to know him made her think he was probably lonely and wracked with guilt, on top of being sick.

Marinette smiled at Nino. “You know, I make a pretty mean chicken soup... I’ll bring it by to him after work. I’ll send him your regards.”

---

Adrien opened his eyes to darkness, completely disoriented and not quite able to understand what had woken him in the first place. His head was pounding.

His phone buzzed twice more on his nightstand before going silent, and he realized someone had been trying to call him. Blindly, he reached over to grab his phone and looked at the screen.

Marinette Dupain-Cheng

Missed Call

It registered somewhere in the back of his fever-addled brain that since they had exchanged numbers, Marinette had only texted and never called him before. Before he knew what he was doing, the phone was at his ear, and he heard two rings before Marinette’s voice came through the speaker.

“Hello? Adrien?”

“Hey, Marinette,” he rasped. He cleared his throat—he didn’t realize until just then that he’d gone the entire day without speaking. “What’s up? I missed your call.”

“How’re you feeling?”

Adrien sat up, leaning back on one hand. Plagg stirred in his spot on top of the duvet between Adrien’s calves. His covers fell off of his torso, and he immediately regretted the action. Sweat had soaked through his t-shirt as he’d slept, and the air outside of his blankets felt frigid against his dampened skin.

“Oh, you know. Just…”

“Terrible, I’m guessing, if you called in sick,” Marinette said, her voice sympathetic. “Did I wake you?”

“No,” he lied. He leaned back against his pillow. The inside of his head was so hot, but his body was so cold. He had no idea how to fix this. “What’s going on? Everything okay?”

“Of course! Actually, the reason I’m calling is—well, I know you’re not well, but I was wondering if I could stop by? I made you soup.”

The surprise cleared Adrien’s head better than any medication had all day. “Soup?”

“Yeah, but I also completely understand if you don’t want visitors,” Marinette responded quickly. “Plus, it’s late—I’m sorry, this was stupid of me, and—”

“No, no,” Adrien said, sitting up again. “Please—please come by. If it’s not too much trouble.”

There was a pause. “You sure?”

“Yes. Soup sounds wonderful. Are you coming from the restaurant? I’ll see you in fifteen minutes?"

“Um... Not to be creepy, but I’m already here. I was just going to drop it off, so—”

“Oh,” Adrien said, too dumbfounded to respond in a more intelligent way. He shook his head. He felt a rush of appreciation for Marinette’s thoughtfulness. After he’d reluctantly called in sick, his own father hadn’t called once to check on him—not that he’d expected him to. “I mean—no, it’s not creepy at all. Hang on, I’ll buzz you in.”

---

Marinette could have kicked herself. She didn’t know what she’d been thinking, coming over uninvited. And of course Adrien would be way too nice to turn her down, as intrusive as she was being. The door opened before she had time to convince herself to turn around.

“Hey,” Adrien croaked, and then he chuckled, scratching the back of his head. “Sorry. I probably sound horrible.”

All of Marinette’s embarrassment drained away into concern. Adrien leaned against the doorway, pale and gaunt in wrinkled, baggy pajama pants and a t-shirt, blond hair mussed and matted against his head this way and that. He looked like he might fall over any moment.

“Adrien! Just how sick are you?” Marinette said, rushing inside. She set the large container of soup down on the nearest surface and reached up to feel his forehead, and then felt blood rush to her cheeks when she recognized how intimate the action felt.

Adrien, for his part, didn’t seem to mind; he closed his eyes, and Marinette felt the slightest pressure as he leaned his forehead into her hand. Something warm surged inside of her at the trusting nature of the action.

“You’re burning up,” she said, feeling her brows knit together. “Have you eaten anything today? Taken any medication?”

“I’m fine,” Adrien mumbled.

“I’ll take that as a no. Well, lucky for you, I brought chicken soup! And there should be enough for you to last you through tomorrow, too.” She picked the carton back up and held it up to him proudly. “Mind if I use your kitchen to heat this up?”

“Oh—of course not,” Adrien said, slightly dumbfounded. “Um... Do you need help?”

Marinette laughed. “You are impossible. No, I don’t need help! I just wanted to pour it into a pot and heat it over your stove for a bit. You should go lie down.” She turned to head toward the kitchen, pausing only when she felt warm fingers brushing against her elbow.

“Marinette…”

“Why... Why are you doing this for me?” Adrien asked, his voice quiet.

Marinette felt her heart drop, a soft breath escaping her. Oh, Adrien. “Because you’re my friend, of course. And I didn’t want you to be sick and alone with no one to help you.”

Adrien’s eyes widened ever so slightly—or maybe that was just Marinette’s imagination. His lips parted, like he might say something, but instead, he let out a quiet exhale. Marinette was aware, perhaps too acutely, of the warmth of his fingertips, still on her elbow. Later, she would guess that they stood like that, staring at each other in complete silence, for maybe three seconds after she’d answered his question. But in the time it happened, it felt like forever.

“I’m—I’m gonna go heat this up, okay?” she finally said. “I’ll bring it over when it’s ready.”

“Ah, right. Okay.” Adrien paused. “You’re eating, too, right? You must be starving after work, after all.”

Marinette glanced at the clock, surprised. She hadn’t even realized how late it was. She looked back at Adrien, who was watching her again, this time with clear anticipation, evident just at the end of the curve of his lips, in the slope of his raised eyebrows. She was reminded, again, of how much he seemed to crave human company, and how much he must have been deprived of it in his lifetime.

“Sure,” she said, nodding. “I’ll make myself some, too. Find something good on TV, won’t you?”

---

Adrien was a no-show the next day, as was expected. Marinette was mostly relieved—she wouldn’t have been shocked if he’d tried to drag himself out of bed, even in his condition, if his father gave him hard enough of a time—but she also found herself enjoying work a little bit less. As Rose had noted the day before, Adrien’s absence was oddly loud.

Thankfully, La Confiture was so busy that night that Marinette didn’t have too much time to think about it. With Adrien gone, everyone’s workload had increased somewhat, and as one of the more junior chefs in the kitchen, Marinette was saddled with quite a bit of extra work. But in the few spare moments she did have, she thought more than once about pulling out her phone and sending him a message.

Just checking on you. Hope you’re ok. Eat all of your soup!

Marinette stared at the screen of her phone, which glared back at her in the darkness of the locker room, where she’d come for a brief reprieve from all the action. She chewed on her lower lip as her thumb hovered over the “send” key. Why was she hesitating? Her stomach felt funny—maybe she’d caught the bug from Adrien. It was a perfectly normal message to send. But she felt like she’d imposed so much the night before by just assuming she could come by, and—

“Marinette!” Juleka’s voice rang. “We’ve got a situation in the kitchen!”

Marinette sighed as she pressed her thumb against the backspace key and shoved the phone back in the pocket of her coat.

---

At 1:05 AM, when the kitchen was finally clean and the restaurant was totally silent, Marinette let herself into the locker room and began to pull on her coat. She picked her phone out of the pocket and hit the home key absentmindedly before nearly dropping it in surprise. Below a missed call from her mom and half a dozen texts from Alya, there was a particular name she hadn’t expected to show up in her notifications.

Adrien Agreste

3 New Messages

12:47 AM

Marinette slid her thumb across the screen, not sure what to expect, and opened the messages.

Hey, thank you again for the soup! It was just as good on day two. I feel better already. Hope things weren’t too insane at the restaurant tonight.

And then, beneath a picture of Plagg, standing on the coffee table and sticking his nose into a near-empty bowl:

Plagg likes the soup, too, btw.

Marinette felt her lips curve up into a smile. Without too much thought, nerves forgotten, her thumbs automatically typed out a response.

Tell him I’ll bring some more by tomorrow, if he’d like.

An answer came back immediately, and as she read it, Marinette registered with some shock what that odd, dully painful bubbling at the pit of her stomach was.

He would love that.

#miraculous ladybug #fanfic #ml fanfic #miraculous ladybug fanfic #adrinette #marinette dupain-cheng #adrien agreste #la confiture

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goldporces · 5 years

Text

Sigma x Reader “Fix You”

Rating: G

Words: 2958

Description: An AU where Siebren is rescued from Talon, several months after you became his unofficial therapist, and only friend.

Note: There are multiple song references hidden in this fic, and if you get them all, well.. Congrats. The title is the reference to Coldplay’s song “Fix You”.

"This is working out quite well, isn’t it?"

A little spin of a pen on his fingers, a little smile on his mouth. Siebren knew he was doing magic and played a little game of pretending to be a real magician - with this long "wand", doing circular patterns in the air with it, as if he was casting a spell.

You were only a few footsteps away from the scientist, wiping the old equations he’s written before from a whiteboard, and - you absolutely can’t stress it enough - his handwriting looked like a painting itself, apart from the absolute work of art it has supposed to help to construct. There were questions marks, little dots and arrows everywhere, as much as little sketches and supposed staged of progress of his new invention. Breathing out and taking only a small step back, you decided that that’s going to do for now, there is plenty of clear space for the scientist to work on already, and you’re sure that right now he’s ready to show you a part of what he created, as usual.

After turning your head slowly and tiredly to look at Siebren, you meet his eyes, which happens very rarely, if anyone happen to ask you. The man can’t look you in the eyes for long, as he can’t establish eye contact with anyone for long now, but you absolutely don’t blame him for that.

You never blame him for anything.

In fact, that’s a crucial part of your job here. From what it might look like, you are his apprentice, or his student at least, taking care of all sorts of things around him, related to his job. You bring him instruments when needed, you search for things when he requires them in urgency, you sometimes clean the equipment (and it doesn’t bother you in the slightest).

But that’s only a cover-up. Your actual role here is, in fact, quite different.

You were a volunteer to participate in... the latest years of Siebren’s life. Aside from taking care of his surroundings and some parts of his own job, you stepped up to take care of him as well.

You are quite of a scientist yourself, but not on the stereotypical one. In actuality, you study people in a group and cognitive behaviors of a singular person. Upon taking in consideration your future career, you stumbled across Dr. Kuipers work. Completely astonished by it, you wanted to take a look deeper and understand the person behind it, the one who’s done this massive research and put a new path for humanity, the mind that was capable of more than anyone you ever met.

But as you discovered more and more sides to his story, you realized that something’s not quite right, though.

Many things are not right, in fact.

And they’re all are equal to small mistakes within a complex equation that won’t let it work as it’s supposed to, except there is no way to fix it. You would always come up with the wrong result.

Always broken.

You meet his eyes, finally, of course you were thinking only about the precious eye contact with Siebren, weren’t you? You’re not surprised that your thoughts have trickled down to recalling recent events, both from your life, and the tragic life of someone who just happens to stand in a little distance away.

He was taken by force, internal and external. What he has discovered - a mystery, known only to a single man, a man without his normal life to come in the future. They took it away. Friends, perhaps spouse, kids, grandkids, a job, family, celebration, traveling, world, but most importantly..

Happiness.

They took away his happiness.

They put him inside 4 identical looking walls. By internal and external power, he was forced into walking in circles every day, with no contact to humanity. What he had was so similar to a hamster’s environment in his beloved cage - food dispensers, water bottles. Medication. Everything surrounding him was.. white..

Until he started seeing things.

And hearing things.

"What’s on your mind?" Siebren was staring at you for more than just few moments, and your gaze stayed in the same blank state it was. You shook your head. The thought of smiling slipped in your head to ensure him that you’re fine. However, you didn’t. At that moment, you definitely could consider yourself emotionally strong, but you still could’t manage to lift the corners of your lips in a positive expression after bearing with the thoughts about Dr. Kuiper’s trauma.

Oh no, you, by any means, couldn’t claim that you can feel what he feels, or understand what he felt, ever. His feelings are beyond any human to understand.

You take a seat on one of the tables, just a little walk away from where you stood. Feet not touching the ground, you carefully observed what Kuiper was planning to do next.

And yes, you do have to do it carefully, because he had enough of people watching him already. And still does, except you can’t see them.

But, you’re absolutely sure that you’re the only real person he has around, and will gladly explain him that if the scientist starts seeing others again. After months worth of time around Siebren, you know exactly how to socialize with him, being in any emotional state.

"I was just wondering if I’ll get to see you test your creation", his face changed to a calmer, softer expression as soon as he heard your voice, and you might’ve had a clue why.

You’re the only one to talk to him so friendly in years. Decades.

"Right." He smiled at you, strangely, because he doesn’t smile first to anyone. Ever. Just how much happiness you bring to his mind by a simple conversation?

"I might set this off, shortly, after I.. Maybe, check if this part here works too.."

The scientist kept looking for something, examining as close as possible, then held the small machine, then spun it in his hands, and put it down. You started to notice: he’s muttering something so quiet you can’t really understand what exactly, he’s frowning at nothing, he started walking around too fast.

His hands were shaking.

"No, no, no, no! This can’t be working at all!" Kuiper threw a quick glance on the surroundings, overwhelmed and nervous, his eyes darting in different directions now. "I made a mistake somewhere. I definitely can’t let this happen. Did they make me do it again? What is this for?"

Siebren looked at you, at your calm and organized facial expression, and you could hear his breathing, that has quickened in a matter of seconds, echoing in the small walls you were together in.

"Maybe I didn’t want anything to work at all in the first place. What if this was my plan all along? I can’t show you, although I want to, but I-", slamming his fists on the table and making instruments and gears jump on it, the scientist cried, "Don’t want them to control my mind again!"

"Nobody is here, Siebren. Only you and me." You speak for the first time since he started breaking down, still having the same calm demeanor and peaceful aura around you. "Nobody doesn’t know what you’re doing, because nobody is watching us."

It was true. Both of you weren’t in a glass chamber, nor in a secured or guarded space. They were no cameras or watching devices.

You still remember the day he saw a camera, recording something, in the upper corner of the room you were in. It was set off. You had to prove him, that it doesn’t exist, climb up a ladder, put a tape in front, so it wouldn’t film anything at all. And only then he said it disappeared.

He smiled to you first that day.

"But what if I was obeying the orders in my head all this time I spent on this machine? Is this even safe to use? I have no idea at all! I hear people constantly telling me that I should escape, because somebody’s keeping me hostage, and I have to destroy all of this place, and!.."

His shaking voice (intervening with white noise?) finally stopped, as the man suddenly shifted his eyes to the ceiling. It was white.

"That music is playing again.."

As fast as Siebren sunk his head down, your heart sunk to the very bottom of your chest. This was too much already, but you knew you can’t help him in the beginning of it, because any interaction with his strong emotions could cause anomalies, that he was only now learning how to control. But you absolutely didn’t want for him to come to this stage.

"Siebren."

Your voice was calling, endearing.

"Come here."

When the man rushed to your open arms, he was tall enough to drop on his knees in front of you and still be able to bury his face in your chest, despite you sitting up a little higher than the ground. Kuiper’s body was trembling, twisting and turning, the emotional agony that flowed out in a physical one, the one that you’ve never seen happen to anyone at all. Your heart was pounding in fear, but only after a few moments you’d discover that his own was beating even faster, and it probably would’ve reached the speed of sound, if only you weren’t here to put an end to this. To calm him down.

"There’s nothing to be scared of. You will stop hearing it eventually, because nobody’s playing it. It’s not real. All real you can hear is.. my voice.." You leaned it closer to wrap your arms around the upper part of Siebren’s torso, giving a moment to pull your hands down his arms, slightly patting his shoulders, before holding him as closer as possible. "I’m a real person, and I will always be one, and I want to help you."

It didn’t take long until you heard only a couple of sobs, that he tried to hide as much as possible. "I don’t want to be a concept, that they put evil thoughts on, I don’t want that.. I’m a person, I work really hard, everyday", His eyes now were red, as he wiped his tears away, head lifting only for a split second. It’s almost like he didn’t want to show you, although you knew already that the scientist couldn’t control his emotions. “To this day, I see "Subject Sigma" written on the outside of the white walls I’m trapped in, right in front of my eyes, right here, in my sight.” not being able to even pace his words, he tripped over them and breathed, but continued, ”I see the same halls and sometimes there are people looking at me, taking notes, but nobody’s staying for long, and I want to scream, and I scream so they would let me out. A-and then I start hearing them, even though the glass is too thick to hear anything past it..”

Kuiper rose his eyes up to look in yours, and you thought - only for a moment - that in his gaze, you saw the metallic shackles that were holding him, the almost acidic, toxic orange color of the prison uniform he had to wear in the past. The white pillows. The white ceiling.

“Everyday, I’m not dead. There’s no end."

His face was red.

You close your eyes and listen, carefully, observing his tone changing, every note in his speech, like if his words were a melody themselves. You sensed, with both of your hands on his back, gentle motions of patting and grasping tighter, that his muscles were easing now, and his body was, in fact, calming down. That didn’t mean you could let your guard down too, though. You trusted him in everything, but you couldn’t trust him his own safety.

"I’m sorry."

You were confused now and completely off track. It’s not hard to look him in the eyes now, you have an excuse - why did he think of own guilt?

"I’m sorry, that.. You have to put up with me for so long. I don’t know why you’re still here, why you haven’t given up. I don’t want to trust anyone, but I can’t help wanting you to be here when I’m breaking down. It’s a.. new, unfamiliar experience.." Another wave of shake through Kuiper’s body, and his eyes were filled with tears again. Meanwhile, you were absolutely lost.

How much did he had to put up with everything alone?

"My whole life", sobbing and still trying to cover his face, Siebren didn’t know what to do with himself anymore. "I’ve been working and putting so much in scientific progress, hoping that I can deserve knowledge in the end, knowledge, that will open my eyes and gift me all that I need, but-"

"You lost everything."

By saying this, you made him lift his head to look at your face, and you were far from as peaceful as before now - you coudln’t listen to all this without showing emotion, because otherwise you’d be like everyone else. Like them.

"I know many people have tried to take you, gain control over your powers, used you to-", before you could finish your sentence, Siebren yelled in rage, rising on his knees to be higher than you and still looking you straight in the eyes,

"They tortured me for staying silent the whole time! They have no idea that this knowledge could destroy them, like it destroyed my sanity!"

His shout was ringing in your ears. And then the deadly silence.

You stared back for a couple of seconds, as he realized, what he just did to you.

Siebren’s eyes filled with desperate fear.

"Please, please, please don’t leave me please, I didn’t want to scare you, please, I didn’t mean to!" As soon as the panic came to his mind, the anomality came to twist the environment around you, turning off gravity for all physical objects. Lifting you both up in the air.

But you own fear was non-existent, fear of anything, especially..

"Siebren."

Your body, now floating in the air, connects with the man in front of you. Hand reaching his head, you pull him closer, so that your forehead and nose would touch his own nose and forehead, as if you were trying to connect your minds. Breathing out, you closed your eyes.

"I love you."

Your gliding in the air body stopped, as if an effect was suddenly put on a pause, and as soon as that happened, you felt his arms circling around you in response, your heads still touching.

"You could’ve had a normal life. Friends, perhaps spouse, kids, grandkids, family and seeing the world," Kuiper’s words could be heard in your conscience without him actually opening his mouth, "But you spent every day seeing me. Visiting me, helping me. Caring about me, comforting me when I had those flashbacks.. Your job isn’t to love me, y/n."

"I don’t want this to be my job, because it’s something more important than one. You’re more important than anything, and I do want to spend all my time with you, until I am stardust," You knew it would catch the scientist if you used one of his own metaphors, and it did - you sensed his surprise. "You never scare me. You never do anything for me to love you less."

It also caught him every time you said "love", which made Siebren’s breathing stop for a second, the man not believing his hearing, that someone could say that to him.

"There are plenty of people in this world, at least, on Earth, that are more than willing to offer you greater, different kind of love, and so many reasons to love them back."

Siebren wasn’t lying.

He was so deprived from this world, it was impossible for him to have any romantical feelings anymore. He was incapable.

Broken.

But that wasn’t a problem to you.

"It occurs to me that there are more than enough people, but see," you made a pause, only to lift the corners of your lips, "You’re my favorite one."

Feeling him almost freeze, you then were pulled in a tight hug in Siebren’s strong arms around you, and you didn’t recall feeling more safe in your life.

Everything was falling together.

"I don’t want to lose you, y/n. I thought you’d be in more danger around me, so I wouldn’t let you approach me at all, but I can assure you, that nothing will ever happen to you, as long as I am with you. I will learn to control myself for you, and your love.. To be worthy of it.."

"You’re worthy enough."

Your gazes meet, and you both see each other smiling so unbelievably happy, still violating all laws of gravity.

Together.

"I love you too, y/n."

________________________________________________________________

Once everything was cleaned up properly, and you shifted to a cozier room than a lab, Siebren, with a single command, disabled gravity for the area around you two, and you were quickly up again.

"Now, I know it would be very sudden to ask, but I want you to sing. I find your singing even more charming than the one that the universe sings to me."

Accepting the compliment with a quiet laugh, you sighed in return.

"Okay. This song is called Fix You.."

#sigma #siebren de kuiper #overwatch #fanfic #fanfiction #sigma x reader #siebren de kuiper x reader

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jacquiesims · 5 years

Text

Viper Canyon - Chapter One

‘The thought had never occurred to her that once they reached Viper Canyon the real work would begin.’

October, 1851

The Hawkins family stared at the great stretch of untamed land in front of them. It was teeming with promise and possibility, with excitement about the unknown – how would they begin their new lives?

“Well,” Papa was the first to speak. His rumbling voice cut through the air. “Best get to building.”

And so the Hawkins family rolled up their sleeves.

Meanwhile...

By the time Elijah had made it to his homestead, his joints were aching from exhaustion. He’d been back and forth on the trail more times than most probably ever should, but it never failed to take its toll on his weary body.

His tired bones were filled with relief as soon as he could see the front door. Soon, he’d be able to take a hot bath and put his aching feet up by the fire, all he’d dreamed of during the long journey back west.

“What in Watcher’s name…”

Elijah opened the door to his home to find it completely ransacked. Books were strewn across the floor, chairs were overturned, and the air was buzzing with a sinister foreboding energy.

He rested his hand on the cool holster of the pistol inside his coat and carefully went up the creaking ladder to the loft.

His heart sank as he took in the state of his bedroom.

The precious chest that usually collected dust at the foot of Elijah’s bed was toppled over, the remnants of whatever the thief had deemed unworthy of stealing left scattered on the floor – cosmetics, cheap trinkets, a pair of worn boots, an unfinished sampler.

Anger soon consumed the sadness in Elijah’s stomach as he stared at the keepsakes on his floor. The bandit had treated his most cherished remembrances as nothing more than mere garbage.

Dusk had fallen by the time Elijah gathered the energy to clean up the mess.

The bandits had left no clue as to their identity. They had stolen everything worth more than a few pennies in Elijah’s home – all of his heirlooms, any money hidden in nooks and crannies…but the things of the most value to him had been heartlessly swept from the trunk.

He sat down in defeat, staring at the room. It seemed all the more hollow knowing that the chest at the end of his bed was nearly empty.

A dried bouquet, delicate with age and still smelling subtly sweet despite resting in the bottom of a trunk for years, dangled helplessly from his hands as he heaved a great sigh.

The bath he had waited so long to take didn’t have the same cathartic effect he remembered. Instead, his thoughts were clouded and muddy. Memories he long thought forgotten swam up to the surface of his conscience like great waves of nostalgia.

It wasn’t just the memories putting him on edge. No, now he was nervous to be in his own home. He’d once naively thought Viper Canyon to be an innocent place. Now he knew that darkness lingered underneath the façade – he’d been ruthlessly robbed, and that was the plain truth. The bandit – or bandits – could’ve made off with more than worldly goods had Elijah been home that day.

What if it hadn’t been Elijah? What if it had been someone who didn’t know how to use a gun, or even how to hold their own in a fight? He thought of Winnie and Beatrice, girls who had grown up in the city, who could barely lift a fifty pound sack of grain when needed on the trail. What would they have done if an outlaw made the Hawkins home a target? The thought chilled his bones in spite of the hot bathwater.

It was in that tub that Elijah McLain solemnly swore revenge on the one that had dared threatened the settlement he now called home.

Winnie hadn’t realized how hard it would be to start their homestead.

The thought had never occurred to her that once they reached Viper Canyon the real work would begin. All of her fantasizing about the land out west had skipped over the backbreaking labor of building an entire home from scratch.

She worked from dawn ‘til dusk, caring for animals, helping Papa build their cabin, fetching water from the town well, and making sure Mamma didn’t need any assistance as she cooked their meals and cleaned the family campsite each day.

After the first few days, Winnie didn’t mind the work so much. She figured it would make her tough and rugged and better suited for life outside of the city. She even fancied that it made her a bit like a book heroine – they always seemed to have a long list of survival skills that Winnie never dreamed she’d one day learn for herself by moving out west.

No, what truly bothered Winnie, per usual, was Beatrice.

Her younger sister did the absolute bare minimum around the camp. Excuses seemed to come to her as easily as breathing – “Winnie, I know it is my day to scour the pans, but I’ve sprained my wrist carrying this crate for Papa! I simply cannot risk this injury getting any worse. There are no doctors around, for Watcher’s sake!”

It was enough to make her blood boil.

But thankfully for Winnie, the anger she felt towards her sister was offset by the wonder and awe she was overwhelmed by as she watched her family’s frontier home take shape.

As if it happened overnight, suddenly Papa had finished the foundation. Her mind raced. Now that the foundation was done, all that was left was the walls and then the roof and they would have a home again.

It was all she could do to be patient and wait to see what their house would become.

After two straight months of grueling work, the family often working through the night, the Hawkins homestead was established just in time for winter.

Winnie looked upon their home with a great sense of pride. Papa had built a grand house and furnished it well, taking infrequent trips to the city and sometimes bringing back help for the most difficult parts of the job.

The animals had room to graze, Mamma had planted vegetables in the garden, and now all there was left to do was make memories in their new home.

Winnie was happiest, above all else, to have back the free time in the day she so cherished to read her books. Her classmates may have teased her back in school for always having her nose in a novel, but she found there was no greater joy than departing the life she lived for a few fleeting moments to step into that of a heroine, even if just for an hour when she found the time.

Beatrice had become increasingly more agreeable now that she was able to retire her stuffy pinnys and aprons for her usual dresses. Winnie wasn’t surprised by this – Beatrice had a reputation for being a terribly vain creature who always placed looks above character. But even Winnie had to admit that it was nice to be back in her old things again. It added a touch of normalcy to life in the desert.

Now the home was built, Winnie could read again, and Beatrice was back in her favorite dresses. The family was set to rights once more.

It was there that the family’s luck seemed to run out.

Each morning after breakfast, Mamma and the girls lined up at the front door and kissed Papa goodbye as he left for the mines.

Mamma prayed to The Watcher often for her husband’s safe return. Winnie found herself doing the same – Papa came back each night covered in a thick layer of dust, grime, and sweat. He often fell into bed without even taking off his work boots, too exhausted to care.

All of this work, and for what? Papa had yet to find a single nugget of the fabled Viper Canyon gold. Even the ever optimistic Winnie was beginning to have her doubts.

The truth was, Papa found himself at the local saloon more often that not after a fruitless day at the mines.

He contemplated his reasons for uprooting his family and bringing them across the country. He’d always had big dreams – dreams of being rich and giving his wife and daughters the best lives possible. Dreams of that caliber couldn’t be achieved back in the city, not for him. Going from job to job, always being seen as nothing more than a carpenter’s son…that was why he wanted to leave. In Viper Canyon, he could make a new name for himself.

Or so he thought. At the rate he was going, he would be branded a failure. He had to find gold – and soon.

At least he could find relief from these all-consuming thoughts, however temporary it was, at the bottom of a whiskey glass.

To Be Continued

Previous Chapter | Viper Canyon Index | Chapter Two

(I know this chapter was a little boring and very passive, but I wanted to skip the Hawkins building their house lol. Also realistically they probably couldn’t have built their house in two months BUT it’s Sims so :/ I just wanted to get the story started so more interesting things could happen ASAP!

Let me know what you thought! Thanks for reading. See you in chapter two.)

#ts2 #sims 2 #ts2 story #viper canyon #viper canyon: chapter one #viper canyon story

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