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oveliagirlhaditright · 3 years

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Lie to Me

https://archiveofourown.org/works/33943738

Summary: In an AU where L wins the Kira case and Light goes to prison instead of being executed, L gets it into his head that Light should become an executor: because that would see his need for justice and killing done.

Author’s Note: This is actually the first idea I had and first thing I started writing after I finished watching Death Note.I wasn’t sure I was comfortable sharing it with you guys. But I guess I am:)

L’s PoV

L was heading towards… a certain place after the Kira case had been closed for quite some time.

And why he was heading there, he wasn’t entirely sure. It wasn’t as if he owed Yagami Light anything…

Perhaps, L thought, as he now walked into the prison that housed the mass murderer, he was doing this because he wanted to believe if he ever got locked up, someone with his mind would be given a chance like this… or something much better than this idea.

But whatever the reason was, L was walking towards Light’s cell now, to offer him a deal: a deal that had been playing in the back of L’s mind for a long time, even while he’d also been trying to come up with any and all evidence to incarcerate Light.

Finally—after all sunlight faded away and the last seagull silenced itself—L was being led through the massive metal door that would lead him to Light. And L would be facing him by himself. Something that Watari and everyone at Wammy’s House had loudly protested, but L knew that to even get a twenty-seven percent chance that Light would listen to any of this, he would have to go it alone.

L had reassured everyone, of course, that Yagami Light wasn’t one for killing people without his favorite magical notebook. And he knew that he’d be watched on any and all available monitors like a hawk, which was fine.

The Wammy’s boys (Near, Mello, and Matt—perhaps Matt and Mello in particular) had tried to convince L to bring a bomb in with him—one that Light wouldn’t be able to activate on L quickly enough, if he got it away from him, because it was made out of new technologies that Light hadn’t had the benefit of seeing—that he could throw at Light if the man pulled a fast one on him, and then make a run for the door.

But as L thought that there was a thirty-seven percent chance that that would actually cause more harm for him than good, he’d decided to use his intellect here as he always did… and pray to any god that might exist that Light was off his game after these few years (even though that would make this incredibly boring).

L pushed the door open, and was met with the sight of a lot of orange, brown, and grays: dull, fall colors, that had lost any and all shine. Honestly, what had he even been expecting? Perhaps this had been a mistake…

“Well, if I haven’t earned a visit from the one and only Ryuzaki,” Light sang, looking up from the Bible he’d been reading, the moment L crossed over the threshold. And it didn’t escape L’s notice that Light didn’t call him “L”, which clearly meant that he wasn’t seeing this as a victory against him—as it clearly wasn’t that—but it also meant that Light was beyond bitter here. L wondered how that would make the rest of their interaction play out, as he crossed the room and sat in the table across from Light. “To what do I owe the pleasure? Are you here to finally tell me how good orange looks on me?” In some ways, he was perceptive as always, L supposed.

“While I would, perhaps, love to rub it in your face again, that I beat you—because yours surely was the best case that I have yet won,” and here L locked eyes with Light to remind him that he had won, and it would be foolish to think that he could try and turn the tables right now, “once of doing that was more than enough. Not everyone is as narcissistic as you are, Light. No… I’m here for… sympathetic reasons, oddly enough. And you don’t have to believe me about that, but it is the truth.” And it was clear Light must not have believed it for a second, because he’d scooched his chair back from L’s furiously, the moment the words had left his lips.

He’d moved the seat back, but hadn’t gone to stand up. And that was smart on his part—Light had always been so smart—because if he had, L had no doubt that, quite ironically, all sorts of police and guardsmen would be spilling in this very moment to be giving Light a lethal injection.

So, it seemed that even in prison—where so much was ripped away from one—of course, Yagami Light had found a way to hold onto his careful reactions. This was very good.

L could respect that.

“I don’t believe you!” Light hissed, as some of the old fire returned to the young man. And his pupils dilated, and there was certainly a maniac look to them, but no red.

And L was taken aback to find that he somehow missed the red.

“All you ever wanted was to solve the Kira case more than anything else! It was just another trophy to add to your case! The most impressive one of all, in fact! And you didn’t care who you had to throw under the bus to get there, or if you had to act like Kira himself to achieve your goals. So, why would you start caring now? Odds say that you don’t.”

L could have said something to that, like, “How funny it is, that you now start talking about odds, when I always thought that that was my forte,” he knew. But the truth was… he didn’t have the time for their game, even though it had once been his favorite one of all.

A new technology had just been unveiled that could recognize faces with seventy-five percent accuracy one-hundred thousand miles away. And L just knew that it was at once going to be nuclear warfare, if he didn’t get out there and explain why seventy-five percent still wasn’t accurate enough and would leave too many innocent civilians murdered in cold blood and destitute. So, if Light wasn’t going to be interested in the deal L had to offer him here, he really couldn’t care less.

As it was, he was missing tea time right now, anyway, and he quite liked tea time.

Examining his nails in a very bored manner, L continued on with, “Like I said, Yagami Light, you don’t have to believe me. But I have an idea… since we both once loved our game with each other so much, how about we play another one together right now? Give me one good reason as to why I should give you an opportunity, and shouldn’t leave you to rot her for eternity, like you so rightly deserve?”

Light seemed to withdraw into himself at that… and he looked so very small. And as he did, L found that maybe he was finally truly feeling the sympathy he’d told Light that he had from the onset here.

It must not have been easy, L imagined, dealing with the world’s greatest ice queen in the world, who lived behind such an impenetrable fortress.

Nor must it have been easy to try and look like you had something to gamble with, when everything had been taken away from you.

The gears were clearly turning in Yagami Light’s head now. And L wondered if when they were done spinning, if he would actually hear some sort of fantastical truth from the man, or another lie. Surely the latter, since if there was one thing Yagami Light didn’t do, it was tell the truth.

Finally, Light looked up at L with sorrowful eyes. And L imagined that everyone who was watching this scene unfold with him right now, was also waiting with bated breath to see what the serial killer would have to say.

“Did you know my father once tried to kill my cat, L?” Light asked.

And there was his name, “L”, again. So, Light clearly must have thought he could win this one. And L thought he must have been lying, since he was speaking of something so traumatic far too matter-of-factly right now.

But, then again… Light was calling Soichiro “father” as opposed to “dad” for once. And sometimes trauma victims did speak matter-of-factly to try and keep their emotions at bay.

Hmm… L tried not to give anything away here, but Light definitely have L wondering if he’d missed something important in the Kira investigation. And L didn’t know if that was good or not. He had asked for this—and perhaps had even wanted a battle he had chosen, as opposed to the one he now had to partake in for necessity—but was it really a good idea to have a battle of wills with Yagami Light again?

No matter what he thought, L knew the best thing was to try and play it all off, of course. “No, I was not aware of that, Kira. It didn’t come up in anything I researched about you in our time together. If this is true, I assume your family kept it under wraps to protect your father’s reputation? Do tell me about it.”

“Yep. That’s exactly it,” Light allowed, and he was looking at his forearms that rested on the table now, as if he was lost in thought. Lost in his memories, maybe more accurately. So, perhaps, there was some truth to all of this, after all.

L truly hadn’t come here expecting to feel anything for Yagami Light today, but he found he was doing exactly that, and he hated himself for it.

He would not again be the man on a rooftop, looking at who he believed to be his future killer with regret, as he heard bells ring in the distance. He would not.

“It was late one night… Dad was tired. And maybe a little drunk… This was the only cat we ever had, by the way. An orange furball that Sayu had begged that Mom and Father let us have. Eventually, they relented. Anything, for cute Sayu, of course. And I felt the same way. But… it had stomach problems, and hairballs all the time. Mom cleaned it up as best she could. I helped, too. But Father hated this about the thing.

“One night… I guess the stress of everything became too much for him, and he was chasing Aki, the cat, through the house, saying he was going to kill her, and was throwing coat-hangers at her… until Sayu and I intervened. But mainly it was me. I don’t know if it would have gone further than the coat-hangers, if Father’s two little kids hadn’t tried to stop him then, but…

“Anyway, Dad never had a psychotic break like that ever again, so we all just dropped it...”

The way Light had told the story… it mostly seemed true to L. And he hated that after once having said that there was never a time that Light told the truth, that he would now ven entertain that notion.

He also despised that he now thought it made some sense, then, that Yagami Light would go serial killer, since he’d had the trauma of seeing his father attack an animal… and seeing as how he couldn’t really get any help, as mental illness was so stigmatized in Japan.

But Light did not need to know any of these things from L, of course. All he needed to know was that he had passed the test.

And for Yagami Light, who had only ever wanted to get the best grades and be society’s greatest being—and to be a “god”—surely that would be enough.

“Light… what if we put your desire for justice—and death, to an extent—to practical use? What if you became an executor, instead of wasting away here?”

And the moment the words had left his mouth, L wished he could take them back. Because certainly Kira would object that he wasn’t a killer and never had been.

But instead, Light just dabbed at his eyes some—had he started crying?—and shook his head as if he were truly lost, “…If you think that’s the best thing for me to do… I guess I’ll do it. Clearly, I don’t know what’s right, and you’re wiser than I could ever be. So, when do I start?”

L meant to fill Light in then, that it wouldn’t be right away.

No. Some trust would have to be built first, before they let Kira anywhere near lethal ingredients or people he would put in the electric chair, of course.

But L couldn’t find the words.

He was, one, feeling too much guilt, somehow, by what had just transpired….

And two, finding himself almost aroused at the idea of Light wielding such power, but using it rightly this time.

“Watari will get you the information. He’ll be in touch.”

And L headed back through the large metal door, without another look towards Yagami Light.

He had once thought it held Light’s fate… but he was starting to realize that perhaps it held his own, too.

And if he was intelligent, he would never see the man again.

But had he ever truly been intelligent?

L had to ponder that now, when he knew without a shadow of a doubt… he would be seeing Kira again.

#death note #lawlight #fanfiction #au #alternate universe #mine #my work #my writing #shanna writes

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euphoriyoongi · 3 years

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♥︎ Seven Deadly Sins ♥︎ ot7

♥︎ One ♥︎

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Summary: The seven princes of hell, who are the embodiment of the seven deadly sins, are sent on a mission to find the human with the purest soul. The prince who successfully retrieves the pure soul will become the next king..but what happens when all 7 of the princes fall in love with the beautiful soul?

♥︎ Pairings: ot7 x OC (original character)

♥︎ Genre: fantasy; fluff, smut, angst

♥︎Word Count: 4.0k

♥︎ Warnings: smut/sexual scenes and situations, heavy language, polyamory

♥︎Rating: Mature (18+)

prev. //next.

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The world is a hellish place, that's for sure.

Everywhere you look, you see some form of evil. Whether it be someone spending too much on a purse, or someone looking at themselves in the mirror thinking that they are the best thing since sliced bread.

The thing is, most of these humans don't realize what they're doing. They show little-to-no respect or gratefulness for the things they have. Most of them believe that they need more. That one dollar isn't enough. So then if they had a million...would that not be enough either?

It's all a race. For example, two brothers racing to have a better life when in reality they're just wasting it away to receive superficial things that will just be gone when they leave this world. It's idiotic, and self-centered. If people actually thought about how well they have it, they wouldn't sin. And well, every single human being sins on this planet. It's what makes it go around.

The person sitting next to you at a restaurant just ate his girlfriend's food of her plate. The waiter is stealing another waiters tip money. The owner of the restaurant is sleeping with someone else's wife. The customer threw his drink at the waitress because his food was too cold. The group of teenagers won't get up to leave to make room for the next group. Sin. It's all around. And there's no escaping it.

Well, unless you're the Pure Soul.

Choi Nari. Her name means Lily in English. And the name lily means "purity."

She's known for her ethereal looks, and cascading long black hair that flows so softly. She's sent from heaven, but has no idea of her origins. She only believes she's a human just like everyone else. And lives a life filled with peace and love.

She never harmed a single soul in all of her lifetimes. Once every hundred years, she is reborn, and every one of those years, she's avoided the devil, whom wants her all to himself. The reason? Well, you always want what you can't have, right? The devil is all sins, himself.

This reincarnation, however, will be a bit different. There's something different about her, and the only way she'll be able to avoid the devil is if she avoids sin.

The devil has his own plans, though. Hell stop at nothing to have her. He will send all of his seven sons to earth, for they need to bring her back alive so he could deal with her. And the son that successfully brings her back, will become the next king of hell.

His sons were the embodiment of the seven deadly sins. And his goal was to make the Pure Soul suffer all seven of them, and make her sin to have her all for himself.

If this plan works, he'd successfully take away all the food in the world. So, he hopes all seven of his boys will not falter at her beauty.

"You what us to do what?" Yoongi huffed at his father, crossing his arms over his chest. "Hell no, I'm not fucking leaving my soft bed for that."

Yoongi is the prince of laziness, and definitely lived up to his title. He dreamed of living as a rock in his next life, but sadly, his next life was never going to occur. He was immortal. There was ways he could die, though. But for now, the best he could do was imagine he was a rock while he slept.

The devil growled. "Sloth, you dare to deny me?"

All seven of the boys were gathered in the throne room, where the devil sat on a large chair that floated on flames. The room was all black, with a bit of red detailing.

The devil was very old. He wanted to retire the throne to one of his sons, but he didn't know which one he should give it to. They were all so untrustworthy and well, the only one who he probably could trust was the one who envisions himself as a rock. That's just sad.

When Yoongi didn't answer him, The devil's voice boomed across the high-ceilings. "God damnit sloth! You're so slow sometimes."

Smiling, Yoongi winked at his father. "It's what I do best, dad."

Still fuming, the devil looked towards his oldest son, who was currently eating a bowl of noodles. "I-how did you even get those?" He smacked a hand to his head, sighing. This was ridiculous.

Jin didn't even answer. He just kept slurping his noodles until his father got mad enough to move on with what he was saying.

"Listen, my sons. I need you to retrieve the Pure Soul."

"The pure soul?" Jimin smirked. "That hot ass chick from heaven?"

The devil smiled viciously. "Yes, that's right." Rubbing his hands together, he raised an eyebrow. "And son, I give you full permission to seduce her in any way." He laughed, knowing she wouldn't be able to cave in from his charm.

"So, she's hot? Does she need money?" Taehyung smirked as well, crossing his arms. "I could give her anything in the world."

This was getting out of hand. All he needed was for his boys to bring her back here. "Okay. Anyway, you have 100 days to bring this beast back here, got it? And none of you dare to get attached to her, or you'll be dead meat." He huffed, praying they wouldn't turn against him. Heh, praying. He hasn't done that in a while.

"She couldn't be any near attractive as me, father." Namjoon smiled. "You have nothing to worry about."

The devil hoped that were true, but he knew how beautiful this woman was, and also knew that his sons have never seen anyone like her. Even Lust, who's slept with countless demons and everything in between. He's never seen a pure soul. And even the devil himself wouldn't be able to resist.

“So, what do we get if we bring her back?” Taehyung smirked, looking at his brothers. They all looked as if they didn’t care. Well, except Jimin. He just wanted something to fuck. But Taehyung knew what he wanted. And what he wanted was to take his father’s place. His greed was strong for it, and wouldn’t stop for anything or anyone.

The devil smiled. Finally. He should’ve known it was going to be greed. He couldn’t turn down anything especially if he’ll get something out of it. “Well, the throne, of course.” He shrugged his arms upward, a sneer on his lips. “That is, if you earn it.”

“Oh, believe me, father. I will.” He laughed, looking towards his younger brother, Jungkook.

Jungkook was starting to get mad. He absolutely hated it when Taehyung would get whatever he wanted. It just wasn’t fair. As his eyes began to fade from a dark brown to a vibrant red, the prince of envy patted his shoulder. “Down, boy.”

His eyes faded back to their usual color. Envy was nice, when he wasn’t jealous. He was a sweetheart, and always seemed to be able to calm him down. He goes by Hobi, but his name is Hoseok.

“Alright. Now. Are you guys ready.” The devil growled impatiently. “Do you have everything you need?”

Every one of his sons nodded, except Yoongi. He was now sleeping while standing up. Was that even possible?

“Sloth!” The devil sneered, just waking him enough to blink. “Dammit I don’t even—Do you have everything you need?”

Yawning, he opened his mouth to mumble “have everything for what?”

Silence broke out among them. “You…you know what..just fucking go.” With the flick of his hand, the boys were now transported through time to the planet earth, where they now need to search for the Pure Soul. But wait..how will they find her?

South Korea

Spring time, 2021

The trees were blossoming. The beautiful colors of whites and pinks danced as the petals fell to the ground. Nari was enchanted with them. Their beauty was astounding. She wished she was like them, to be so graceful, even while they fell.

Her favorite season was spring. She lived a full twenty five years of life constantly waiting for spring to come back around every year. She loved to see the flowers bloom, and all the aromas of different plants. She wished she was one. They never had to worry about anything. They just looked pretty.

She never had any friends to share her happiness with. She always wished for some, praying to god that she won't be alone anymore. Was there a reason why she was? Was it because she always agreed with everyone? Was it because she was too nice?

Well, she was too nice, but she had no control over that. It's just how she was made. She didn't know she was from heaven. She only knew that her family died when she was small, and doesn't remember them. So she was alone in this world, lost and left to find her way through life. She only wished she had someone to love unconditionally, just like the couples she'd see as she'll walk down the streets.

Nari made her way back to her small apartment. It was perfect for her though. Just enough space for her to cohabitate with her cat, Mochi. There was one bedroom, and a living space that combined with the kitchen. A tiny bathroom was across from her room, but it was big enough to have a full-sized tub in it. She did like baths more than showers, anyway.

As she walked into her bedroom, her cat was sprawled out on its back on the bed, purring as it slept. Mochi was a happy cat, and loved belly rubs and being held. She’s never had a cat that loved as much attention as mochi did, and he was the type of cat that never wanted to leave her side.

“Hello, mochi mochi.” She smiled, giving him a little pet. “How’s my cutie?” The cat let out a large yawn, then started to stretch out his paws. “Ah. Big stretch.” She chuckled, letting the cat continue to sleep and walked over to her desk in front of the window.

All over it was scattered drawings and short poems she’d write when she was bored. There was something off with her, though, and she knew it. She always wondered why she flowed with everything that went on around her. No matter what it was, she’d agree with it. That includes relationships.

Nari has never been in one. Despite how stunningly beautiful she was, no one would give her the time of day. She also didn’t know her own beauty, which might be part of the reason. But was she meant to live alone in this world? Was that her purpose?

Feeling upset with herself, she walked over to her full-body mirror. There she stood, her long white dress flowed down past her knees, and her long black hair fell down towards her backside. She curled the ends of it today, feeling happy with the way it looked. Her eyes were a hazel type color, but closer to green that black. Her lips were a soft pink, that plumped and were Un-chapped.

She was beautiful. No one would be able resist her. And now, the reason she’s never had a significant other was because she never let herself notice that someone was trying. That could be because god hated the idea of it. Her soul purpose was to keep sin away from taking over the world. He never expected her to start thinking for herself. She’s been reincarnated since the beginning of time. So why is she starting to think for herself?

She spent 25 years of life without any sexual activity. Without anything special in her life. She never had a family, and works as an ice cream shop cashier. There’s nothing to her life. No purpose. She wanted to change that. But as soon as that thought went through her head, it left like a flicker of light.

“Dude, this is absolutely ridiculous.” Yoongi huffed once again, just wanting to rest. “How are we supposed to find her.”

“Yeah.” Taehyung sighed, holding pink petals in his hands that were falling down from the branches above. “Anyway, what are these things?”

“I wonder if they taste good.” Jin giggled as he stuffed a few in his mouth. Spitting them out after a few chews, he shook his head. “Nope. Not good.”

Namjoon was sitting down on the ground with his legs crossed. There were lots of people walking by, and he noticed a man fixing his hair in the camera of his phone. Smirking, he closed his eyes and made the man see himself in a new light. Too bad that new light was for him to think too highly of himself. The man then tossed his phone onto the ground and walked away, thinking he was too good to have one.

“Damn, Joon. We just got here.” Hoseok muttered. “Let’s just stick to our task.”

Nodding, Jungkook spoke up. “Yeah, let’s find this girl so we don’t combust.”

Jin side-eyes him. “What do you mean, combust?”

“Well, you were too busy eating to even pay attention to father.” Jk rolled his eyes at his hyung. Leaning up against one of the trees, he smirked. “Father said he’ll kill us if we don’t find the girl.”

Jin bursts out in laughter. “Yeah, right. As if he—wait you’re serious?” His face turned from playful to worried. “I—oh, you are serious.”

“We need a plan.” Taehyung dropped the flower petals off his palm and dusted them off. “I say we split up.”

“It’ll be an uneven number then.” Jimin pointed out, who seemed to be in and out of the conversation. There were plenty of pretty girls walking around, and he was turning himself on. “Anyway, I just want something to fuck. I’ve never fucked a human before..”

Ignoring Jimin, Namjoon agreed with Tae. “Yeah, Tae, I think we should do that too.” He pointed to Jimin, Jungkook, and Taehyung. “You guys go one way, we’ll go the other.”

Yoongi was surprisingly awake, and agreed also. “Alright. That’s good with me. As long as I don’t gotta do any work.”

As the boys set on to where they needed to be, little did they know that Nari passed them out as she was walking to work.

They kept walking, and Taehyung noticed a brand new car roll up to the curb. Smirking, he left the group to go check it out.

He walked around it with his arms behind his back, looking it over. He must’ve looked off because the owner of the car came out and asked what he needed.

Wrong question.

“What do I need, you ask?” Tae smiled down at the man. “What I need..is this car.” He smirked, his eyes turning into an icy blue. He wanted it, and he’ll get it. The man proceeded to give him the keys and stood stationary, and Taehyung called over Jimin and Jungkook.

“Let’s go boys!” He yelled, and hopped into the drivers seat. He didn’t even know how to drive, but he’ll make himself.

“That was fucking sick, hyung!” Jimin high-fived hun as Jungkook sat in the back with a frown on his face.

Jimin noticed. “What’s wrong, Jk?” He asked him, turning back towards him in the leather seat.

“I wanted that fucking seat.” He hissed at him, sending daggers through his eyes. This made Jimin nervously laugh, and he turned back around.

“Anyway!” Jimin changed the subject. “Where should we look for her? What does she even look like, anyway?”

As Tae drove, he described her. “Well, she has long black hair and a bright soul. We should be able to see who she is the minute our eyes land on her.”

“Ah.” Jimin nodded. “Well, the minute my eyes land on her is the minute I’ll fuck her.”

“Jesus, Jimin. Lay off the sex for once. Some of us need it too.” Jungkook growled from the back seat.

This made Jimin laugh. “Yeah, as if anyone would be attracted to your wrath ass.”

“Don’t piss him off, Jimin. I really want a peaceful ride.” Tae huffed, stepping on the gas. “I say we look around a shopping mall. Girls like shopping here too, right?”

“I like shopping.” Jk muttered under his breath.

“I say we should go to a park or something.” Jimin chimed in.

Taehyung scrunched his nose. “The fuck is a park?”

Letting it pass, they decided to drive to the nearest mall, while the older brothers were currently walking by foot to find her.

“Do you think she’ll like me? I think she’ll love me. I mean, who wouldn’t? Look at me!” Joon laughed, talking himself up as they walked amongst the humans. “I’m getting all the stares!”

“Um, no. I think it’s actually Yoongi. He looks like he’s dead.” Hoseok chimed, holding in his laughter.

Yoongi was sleepwalking. He couldn’t keep his head up, and was nearly walking like a zombie. He was catching all the eyes around him and Namjoon thought it was all for him. Well, he was most certainly attractive. But he wasn’t the reason for the stares.

Pouting, Namjoon rolled his eyes. “I’m sure I’m the reason for some of them at least.”

“Oh my god! Look! It’s a noodle restaurant!” Jin excitedly chanted, jumping up and down. He was a grown man, and looked like he was a kid at a candy store. “Let’s go!”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea—hey!” Hoseok got cut off as Jin grabbed ahold of his shirt.

All four of them sat down at a table, their legs too long for the chairs. All seven of the boys were above six feet tall. That was because Satan was nearly seven feet.

“Do you think that the other boys found the girl yet?” Namjoon said as he chomped on the noodles. The noodles that they weren’t going to be able to pay for.

“Nah.” Yoongi said, shaking his head. “But if they did, good for them I guess.”

Jin was already on his fifth bowl. “I don’t really want to be king anyway. I just came here for the food.”

“Jesus fuck.” Hobi grunted. The soup part was too hot for him. “This is fucking spicy. Why is it spicy?”

“Maybe because you got the chili powder.” Jin chuckled, grabbing Hoseok’s bowl. “Here, I’ll eat it.”

Hoseok glared at him with a frown. “I don’t know how you’re so skinny.”

“Alright guys.” Joon clapped. “We should get a move on with finding her.”

When no one responded to him, he sighed, shaking his head. “Maybe I should’ve picked a better group.”

As Joon was thinking this, Taehyung was thinking the same thing.

“Alright, where is Jimin at now?” Tae sighed, putting a hand up to his head as they stood in the middle of the mall. They looked like giants amongst all of the people there, making them stand out even more. Jungkook stood next to Tae, also wondering where Jimin went.

“All I know is that he said something about going to flirt with the cute girls.” Kook stated, shaking his head. “I don’t know which cute girls he was talking about, though.”

“Oh my god. It’s never ending with him. We can’t bring him anywhere.”

It was silent for a moment, until Jungkook spoke up again. “Do you ever get so mad that you just want to kill them?”

Taehyung looked at him, blinking. “I can’t take you anywhere, either.”

While Taehyung was having an existential crisis, Nari was three stores down from him in her cute ice cream shop.

A few cute boys walked in, and ordered some ice cream. As she gathered their order, one of them kept asking for her number. “My number? Like a phone number?” She mumbled, scrunching her eyebrows.

“Yes.” The cute boy nodded, a smile on his face when he thinks he’s getting it.

“Ah, that. Well, I don’t have a phone.” She smiled at him, and continued to scoop his ice cream. The bus’s friends all laughed at this, making the one who asked get upset.

“Listen here you little bitch.” The boy reached over to grab her by the neck, making her confused as to why he freaked out. She just said she didn’t have a phone. As he pulled her against the glass of the ice cream stand, someone’s voice boomed through the shop.

“Hey hey, that’s no way to treat a lady.” The boy said playfully, making the boy who was holding Nari falter. “Well, only when you’re in bed, I guess.”

His hair was a dark blue, almost black. His eyes nearly looked as if they were a pink of some sort, but maybe he was wearing contacts.

After that comment, the blue haired man stood face-to-face with the asshole who held Nari. Letting her go, he turned toward him. “Who the fuck are you?” He said, his two friends standing behind him with crossed arms.

The mysterious man didn’t even look over at Nari. He just glared at the boy. In came two more boys, who immediately walked over to the mysterious guy. One of them had longer hair than the other, but both of them had black hair. All three of them were unusually tall, and looks as if they had no fear. The longer haired guy spoke up. “I’ll beat your ass so hard you won’t be able to walk.”

The three other boys seemed to get a bit scared, knowing they had no chance against these guys. Nari stood there, in awe of their beauty. She never had thoughts of anyone like this. They were all so beautiful, she just wanted to know more. She wanted to know why they were standing up for her.

As the three childish boys ran out of the store, Nari caught eyes with the blue haired boy, who immediately dropped his jaw.

Jimin couldn’t believe his eyes. There she stood, the most beautiful soul of the human race. Her long locks were held back by a scrunchie, and her eyes were lined with black eyeliner. She was so beautiful, he couldn’t help but stare. He wanted her.

Taehyung felt the same way as well. How in the world could a creature like this exist in the world. Is this way his father wanted her? He began to experience dirty thoughts, some of them pertaining to keeping her all to himself. That could be because of who he was—Greed. He wanted her. He wanted her bad.

Jungkook was quietly staring, his eyes open wide. He’s never experienced this feeling before, but to be fair, he’s never seen someone so beautiful in all his years of life. He wished to have something so passionately, and that something was her. He didn’t care that his brothers were also infatuated with her, he wanted her all to himself, too.

Nari didn’t even know what she had done to the boys. She had no idea that she was made just to compel the sins themselves.

What was she supposed to do now? Was she supposed to thank them? She really had no idea. But before she had the opportunity to say anything, one of the boys said something first.

“Well, we finally meet.” Taehyung smirked. “Choi Nari. The Pure Soul.”

“The..the what?”

*********************************************************

prev. // next.

#bts #bangtan sonyeondan #jeon jungkook #kim taehyung #park jimin #bts hoseok #bts joonie #jung hoseok #jungkook #bts fanfic #kim seokjin

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swaps55 · 4 years

Text

You Just Might

For @jedirangerpenguin

The N program hadn’t covered teenagers.

David Anderson has only been alone with the kid for an hour, and he already has a new respect for the parenting skills of Daniel Shepard. He’s not sure a dreadnought would be a big enough space to contain Sam, and here they are stuck in the cramped passenger compartment of an Alliance shuttle with two hours to go before they reach Ares Station.

This is who Hannah Shepard wants to turn into a biotic soldier. The kid can’t sit still. Sam is like a walking, talking action figure, in a perpetual state of motion with no sense of his own body. According to Daniel he’d just hit a growth spurt, shot up to over 175 cm in the space of a month, and it shows. It’s like watching a puppy try to figure out what to do with four feet, and the Alliance is shipping him off to learn how to play with dark energy.

No wonder Daniel had called him. Without someone to keep an eye on him, this string bean of a kid might take out the whole system.

“Do you think snapping my fingers’ll trigger it?” The kid has the most earnest eyes Anderson has ever seen. The kind that see right through you. Just like Hannah.

“I’m assuming you’ve tried that,” Anderson replies. A hundred times, no doubt.

“Yeah, but maybe I’m doing it wrong. I can’t snap for shit.”

“I think that’s the whole point of learning. Figuring out how to control it without breaking your arm.”

Sam shrugs, rubbing his left arm. According to Daniel he’d hidden the fracture for three days before finally confessing to his father. “Sure, I guess.”

Anderson isn’t sure what’s more troubling, that Sam has already broken enough bones to have an aversion to bone knitters, or that he’d apparently spent those three days trying to replicate the lash of dark energy that had broken the arm in the first place.

The kid kicks his feet, squirming in his seat. Aside from the constant kinetic energy, everything about him screams Hannah Shepard. Except for the ears. He’s got Daniel’s ears. The grin favors him, too. But everything else belongs to Hannah.

“I hear biotics can fry people’s brains,” Sam says.

Heaven help them all. “Having been tossed around by a biotic a time or two, no, that’s not how it works.”

The kicking stops, and Sam’s eyes widen. “You’ve fought biotics?”

Anderson straightens, oddly pleased to suddenly have the kid’s undivided attention. “Fought a lot of things. But yes, biotics.”

“When? Where? How many? What was it like?”

“Which time?” he asks with a smirk.

Is he really trying to impress a fourteen-year-old?

“All of them,” Sam says, with a reverence that makes him wish he had kids of his own.

Apparently Anderson is indeed trying to impress the fourteen-year-old.

Why not share a few stories? Would be nice to have a captive audience for once. Someone who hadn’t heard the rumors about Dah'tan and already made up their mind.

So he tells a few. It’s the closest Sam comes to being still, though he constantly interrupts to ask questions. Apparently Sam can be either still or quiet, but not both.

The questions are unnervingly shrewd, too. Anderson tells those stories with some spectacle – why not, he’s earned it – but Sam never once gets lost in it. Instead he wants to know how biotics interact with kinetic shields. Asks about squad formations. Even interrogates him about the layout of that shipping plant on Ilium, to figure out how Aesir Fina’s mercs had managed to flank him. The kid is tactical. The gears turn in his head as he digests every answer. You can see it.

When there’s a lull in the conversation, Sam points to the red stripe on the right arm of Anderson’s shirt. He’s been eyeing it the entire trip. “You’re an N7.”

“The first N7,” Anderson replies, not without pride.

Sam tilts his head, and for a moment he looks just like Daniel, not Hannah. It’s not the only mannerism they share. The occasional twist of frustration in his lips. The lilt in his voice. That’s where Daniel lives in his son.

“I want to do that.”

“Never had a biotic N7,” Anderson says, thoughtfully. He can only imagine what ICT would do to someone with the caloric needs of a biotic.

“Good. I’ll be the first,” Sam says, smug smile on his face that belongs to neither of his parents.

“It’s not easy,” Anderson cautions him. “Lot of hard work, especially for someone used to temperature controlled environments. Planets aren’t nearly as comfortable as ships, and ICT’ll put your face right in the mud.”

He scowls and crosses his arms over his chest. “I’ll figure it out.”

You know what, you just might.

Sam toys with a thread on his sleeve. Anderson has no doubt that if you left him in an empty room he’d be naked standing in a pile of thread before long. “So how do you know my dad, anyway?”

The sudden moodiness in his voice takes Anderson off guard. The kid hadn’t had any trouble looking him in the eye a moment ago.

“We go way back. Boot camp. Officer candidacy training. I know your dad well, actually.”

Sam’s expression turns skeptical. “My dad. Buddies with an N7.”

“Why is that so hard to believe?”

Sam shrugs one shoulder, eyes fixed on the loose string. It’s definitely longer, now. “Mom flies a ship, dad rides a desk.”

Anderson exhales through his nose. You’ve got no idea, do you? Does he even know his father is N1? It would be like Daniel not to tell him. Accolades have never mattered to Daniel the way they matter to Hannah. The way they matter to Anderson.

Hannah had wanted her career. Daniel had wanted Sam. Simple as that.

“Don’t sell your dad short,” Anderson tells him. “His proficiency scores were better than mine.”

Sam snorts. “Bullshit.”

“Suit yourself.” Anderson leans his head back against the headrest and closes his eyes. What are the odds he could get a nap in before they arrive?

Not good. That stare is like a directed energy weapon. Forget the biotics, the kid could fry Anderson’s brain with just that stare. He cracks one eye open. “Anyone ever tell you you’re a pain in the ass?”

“Yep.”

Anderson doesn’t doubt it. They eye each other for a while. Sam starts tapping the arm rest. First with his left hand, then the right.

“You still have model ships?” Anderson asks. Every time he’d seen Sam as a child he’d had some kind of ship in his hand, and a wide array of sound effects to accompany it. Usually a model of whatever cruiser Hannah was doing a tour on.

“Nah, that stuff’s for kids.”

“Nothing wrong with being a kid,” Anderson says.

“Then you go do it.”

He puts a fist to his mouth to stifle a chuckle. “Fair enough.”

After a few more minutes of tapping Anderson sighs. “So why do you want to be an N7?”

“To be the best.” Sam goes back to kicking the seat. Could be a good interrogation tactic to suggest. Stick a suspect in a room with Sam Shepard and see who breaks first. Safe bet it won’t be Sam.

“And why is it so important to be the best?” Every now and then, Anderson wishes someone had asked Hannah that question. He wonders what the answer would be.

Sam shrugs again. That moody look is back. He pops out of his seat and strolls to the shutter. “Think we can see it yet?”

“No. And you’re deflecting the question.”

“So?”

“If you want to join up, better get used to orders, son.”

That gets him. He abandons the window, squares his shoulders and trades the moodiness for defiance. “Because someone’s got to be.”

Anderson hums. Big talk for a fourteen-year-old. That has to be Hannah’s influence. It’s a wonder Sam got to be a kid at all.

Sam returns to his seat and draws his knees to his chest. It makes him look…young. Far too young for where he’s headed. “Think mom’ll come see me at all?”

Well, shit. Shouldn’t be Anderson answering that question. Daniel said she’d been on tour for four months, either couldn’t get leave to see Sam off or chose not to. Even sent him a pre-recorded message for his birthday a few weeks ago. She hit the lottery with you, kid, and did nothing to earn it. But it’s not his place to get involved in family politics. Daniel decided a long time ago he wasn’t going to do anything to tarnish her name in his eyes.

“She can’t, Sam. Classified facility. She doesn’t have clearance.”

For the first time all trip, he’s both silent and still. “But you do.”

Anderson taps the N7 logo on his chest. “Yeah. I do.”

Sam nods. His brow furrows. He opens his mouth to say something, then closes it, turns that directed energy stare at the shutter and rests his chin in his hand.

Damnit.

Daniel had only asked him to take the kid to Ares. He doesn’t know anything about whatever insane plan the Alliance has to train biotic kids after cratering BAaTT. But looking at those hunched shoulders, the long legs he hasn’t grown into, the shoulders he hasn’t filled out yet…he’s a kid, damnit, out here alone with no one to look out for him.

He’s not your kid. But someone’s got to do it, and he’s the only one here.

Hell with it. He’s got plenty of leave stored up. The Alliance can spare him for a week or so. Just to get him settled in.

He leans back in his seat and props a foot on his knee. “Think I’ll stick around a few days. Never been to Ares station.”

Sam picks his head up. There’s something hopeful in his eyes, and if Anderson had any reservations about staying they’re gone now.

“Yeah?”

“Sure. Besides, if I’m going to recommend you to ICT one day, need to see what you’ve got.”

There’s Daniel again, in the tilt of his chin. “You’d do that?”

“If you earn it.”

Sam straightens. “I’ll earn it.”

Anderson smiles. He’s got some growing up to do first, in more ways than one. But there’s a glimmer in his eye that could take him a long way, if he lets it. If someone sticks around long enough to help him figure it all out. And if he does manage to put it all together? Hell, you know what, kid? You just might.

#mass effect #david anderson #my fic #opus!verse #jedirangerpenguin

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weirdo-with-a-nametag · 3 years

Text

Brain is tv static with random frames interspersed

Think I'm like. Really stressed and jumping between topics to try and find something that helps / feels good

Topics:

Anyone know a good health tracking app for adhd people? I want one that like pops up when you open your phone, maybe? But is unobtrusive. Like maybe you just rate your mood or whatever when you open your phone, and it closes, and you go about your business. I just hate every app and paper method I've tried but really want to track some stuff

Pigeon. ? Pigeon as pet?

Service animals re: cats, pigeons, my cat specifically, and then also ESAs and also what to use as treats while training my cat (he's pretty happy to learn behaviors with praise and pets as reinforcement, but treats would make everything move much faster, but I haven't found something I want to give him so we've just been y'know. Chillin)

Service animals re: what tasks can my pet potentially do that would help me? I don't really know a lot about service animals and there is a Huge range. If anyone has suggestions, or places to read about it, I'd appreciate it! Mostly thinking they may help with anxiety, sensory, and mobility/fatigue related stuff. Not much of a need for medical alerts.

Bioactive enclosures for my snakes, need to research their biomes and make progress on designs and equipment specifications

Also. Hit a seriously hard patch and haven't been handling them much at all this month so that's not great

Casting stuff. Saw jewelry today made of metal casts of claws, skulls, etc, and they were really well done and made me want to do that

Some taxidermy / vulture culture stuff I won't get into right now

Puzzles????

How to organize my room

Need a shower

Need to organize bathroom

So Much Schoolwork

Uhhhhh trying, but not making much headway, to figure out how I want to do my music collection. Also really need to clean my records..

Make?

Food??? Ew.

Dental hygiene ://

Plampts. So many. Houseplants need maintenance, many need repotting. Keep taking in people's problem plants and like, they're doing better, largely, after being trimmed and watered and whatnot, but need repotting. Also need to trim some aquarium plants.

Also need to put water in tanks. And spray nepenthes.

Laundry.

Gotta pick up trash in my room. There's so much. Everywhere. Why.

Schoolwork. I'm so behind. So, so stuck. Kind of feel like I'm dying.

Going on a picnic tomorrow. Have to figure out what still needs doing for that, probably need to go to the store.

Leo needs water. I'm so....ugh, I'm trying so hard, but it feels impossible. I do my best to take good care of my pets, and I think they live pretty good lives most of the time, but sometimes I get like This and completely drop off the face of the earth and then like, wake up or whatever and two weeks have passed by and I have not cleaned a water bowl! That's a serious problem!!!! I do not know how to combat that, really, besides more reminders. Having someone around who is willing to like, help, when things are especially hard, would be great, but I don't live with my partner right now and do not feel like I can ask anyone here for that. But I can't put my animals at risk. I check on them every day, and if their bowls are dirty I do take them out and clean them, but sometimes (like now) i cannot get myself to do it without a pressure like a dirty bowl, or a feeding day. And like, it's really important that they have clean water. I'm talking to myself here but like, if anyone has advice. Please. With the tank redesigns and upgrades, the bowls will be more accessible, which will help because one of them is very heavy at the angle I have to pick it up, and another requires moving a lot of branches and is best to take out while the snake is out (this is Leo) which is fine because I love my boy, but adds time to the process, and makes it harder to start, you know? Maybe if I just got more bowls - I could take the bowl out and immediately replace it, fill the new one, and replace the decor and snake, and then clean the bowl as a separate task? That would be easier for my brain. Currently I have a Specific bowl I prefer to use for each tank, and then everything else is Just In Case, but I mean. Acquiring extras is something I want to do anyway, and it may help with several problems, so. Yeah. I'll try that. But also, any other ideas, guys?

Anxiety: can't stop picking at my face, skin, nails, cuticles, scalp, pretty much everywhere with callouses, also scratched a mole off my face, which is something I've been trying Not to do for a while, so that's...not great. Can't find my earmuffs, and also all of my headphones are painful? Ears are really sensitive lately.

Been playing a lot of Moth Game (flutter: starlight if you wanna be friends say hey I don't know how to do it but would enjoy talking about moths if nothing else. The game is just like, an idle ish collecting game with cutesy versions of different species, and very little actual information, but it's still fun, and if anyone else is on there and also Into Moths like I am, hiiiii) and like it's fun and cute but also greatly impacting my productivity, and raises my stress levels during events, which is most days, so the game has. Not been helping. But I can't stop because then I'll miss Exclusive Moths.

Anyway. Had baklava and two mugs of Thai tea today and the sugar has made me nauseous.

Trying to journal. Hurts to write. Also takes too long. Also my handwriting is very bad. But typing is..not as good

Want to draw. Thinking about drawing cats

Plants again! Want to make seed bombs, have seeds, have most of the other ingredients, just need to put em together, basically.

Really sad :(

Or am I?

Weird noise coming from dining room?

Birds. Spent half an hour at least on the deck tonight listening to a hundred different bird calls (literally) to identify one I was hearing, it was a pine siskin, which I checked early on but the recording was bad and I didn't realize which call was identified. Anyway, cool to put a name to a face, so to speak.

Need to practice for ASL

So much.....to do...

Only had like >3 hours of work this week which was not great because money, but also like I'm really feeling those 3 hours....

My cat is basically refusing to come into my room? Which is very strange and I'm worried something is Off but cannot figure out what. Also means less cuddles which means I'm sad.

It feels strange whenever people follow me, the attention is nice but I have no idea what content y'all are here for. So to everyone: hi, enjoy, hope my random personal posts aren't a surprise to anyone who followed for like. News reblogs and informational stuff.

Do I even have it in me to..be successful in school? Should I drop out of college? I'm struggling really hard and do not feel like I'm building on the skills I need to continue, so like. Uh.

My dad is being. Abrasive.

Mom and grandma are very angry lately

Housemate is also angry, about things i thought we were on good terms about, so I am stressed because like,, are we okay?

Can't find my eye mask :(

Yoga? Like...restorative yoga? Need to track down my PT stuff. And. Do it.

Need to put the stickers on my license plates....oops...

Still haven't found my antidepressants! Yay!

Do I want to store my stuff in open bins, or with lids? Which stuff needs spill protection and stacking capability and which stuff needs easy access?

How to earn money without..chaos

Gotta go to the pet store tomorrow. Have to compile my list of pet store items i need. Uhhhhhhhhhh

Also I have an essay due tomorrow that I've barely started. So. Wooooooo

Kt tape for supporting arches / inner ankles? I keep messing up my ankles, and part of it is walking wrong because I don't have the energy to engage the muscles in my feet/legs right to like, avoid injury, and part of it is I just need new shoes inserts. But i wear slippers a lot and they do not have arch support and it hurts. PT to help with this also but Where Is It

Family can't seem to get dish soap I can use, so I've just been having to avoid washing anything by hand, or being in the general kitchen area while anyone uses the stuff, which has led to more of my dishes sitting out, and more conflict over dishes. Lovely.

How hard is it for parents to learn they have to respect boundaries? Very hard, apparently. And you're supposed to just sort of remind people, and explain, over and over and over but like at this point my self worth is actually pretty good and the lifetime of proof that they do not want to listen? That's making me want to stop trying. Like, if you're not going to respect my boundaries I'm just not going to involve you in my life. I'm not talking to my dad right now because of this. Maybe I'll decide to lay things out to him, again and again and again again, maybe not. And I'm comfortable saying that's on him.

How to drink water

Am I dehydrated or are my hands just completely callous now. My fingertips have such hard skin. Why? It's uncomfortable. This is part of why I've been biting them.

Also testosterone. Been having a lot of trouble doing my shots, because anxiety and physical freakouts, but also not feeling super urgent about it. Which I'm realizing may be a sign i need to look at the effects so far and the possible effects of continuing, and see what they make me feel. It's possible I'm where I want to be as far as T, and don't really want to stay on it. A big thing for me is a deeper voice, so it seems time to take a look at whether I like my voice where it is or want to see if it'll drop any more. Etc etc

Miss my lil sisters

Saw a lot of cool rocks today. Huge (like hand sized) ammonite for $28. May go back and buy one because. Wow.

Want to plant food plants

Also my natives. Whole garden plot standing empty with a bunch of stuff waiting in nursery pots, needing to go in the ground. Because I can't get out of bed. Love that. Stuff is dying out there, I'm dying in here, there's a poetry to it and I do not want to romanticize suffering so I will say this: I brought a Bucket full of moss home a month ago and planted it and now go outside sometimes to drench my moss and it is very rewarding because the stuff is just so green. Incredible. When the rest of my plants are finally in the ground, that feeling will only intensify. But, for now, the moss is very nice.

Made a glow in the dark bead lizard from memory during therapy yesterday, and I love him. Also, still struggling with bringing up autism and psychosis topics with my therapist. Still very worried about. Things. Would like to get a new person? But sometimes she is helpful? And we have a routine. It's very hard to break the routine. Maybe I can set some time aside during the summer, to figure out what to do there.

Term ends in a couple weeks. The task of catching up, of passing, seems impossible. I really need to pass my courses. I'm on academic warning, because my GPA is lower than it should be, and if I can pass all of my classes this term I can get off academic warning but otherwise I'm not sure what will happen to my financial aid.

My phone is playing the same 50-100 songs on shuffle and I don't even particularly like most of them and it is very strange

Got my face wipes! Hooray, i can wash my face again

Been eating too much sugar in general. It's making my joints hurt more, and the nausea

Pet a dog the other day. I miss that. It would be really nice to have a dog in the house again. The exuberance, the cuddles, the tail wagging, the walks... I'd really like that. Maybe once I'm out in my room, tanks and catio built and everyone is situated, I'll look into getting a dog instead of a cat next. Was planning on holding off in case I'm not physically able to take them out on walks and such, but I've been pretty successful at doing this job, and I think that my main hurdle for walking really is motivation. Dog walking is a strong motivator for me. Best to start by fostering, or just do Wag, for a while though. I'm feeling overwhelmed with my current responsibilities, and here I am talking about getting a dog. Good job, me

How do you get wax off of somewhat water soluble rocks? My housemate broke my lava lamp on some of my rock collection and I am not sure how to get some of them clean without damage.

I am...pretty sure there are collared doves nesting over my room but it seems they're less common around here than I thought? But they are..pretty distinctive. Like if I'm wrong, what are those birds. Some very distinctly colored feral pigeons? Who are nesting here, in a tree, without their flock, and who happen to have pretty much the exact same pattern?

Probably should go to the dollar store and get some bins for organizing

Been wanting to keep a bin by the door and stock it with stim/fidget stuff people can just .have ..like extras of some of my favorites and other things i can get ahold of, to offer to my friends who haven't really had the chance to explore the world of stim toys

Hands are really just not doing great the last several weeks. Arthritis type pain cropping up more and more in all the little joints, making it hurt more to write, type, or just use them for whatever. Coordination isn't great because of that distraction, and because my hands/arms are slow to respond and kinda weak. Most people would say I'm not using them enough but I've been doing 15ish hours of manual labor per week, so maybe it's the other direction? More water would help. If only it wasn't so heavy.

I haven't taken a single shower since I started my job. Which was March 29th. That's not great.

Practiced parallel parking today. 10/10 still very bad at it.

Having anxiety that my friends think I'm lying about things, faking, and are watching me to see if I'll slip up. So that sucks. Can either talk about that directly or indirectly, or just shut up about those things until I can get my brain under control again. I'm not sure right now if the reassurance would work as a reality check or make me believe it more, right now, so might hold off on the talking bit for a little while.

Saw, smelled, picked a couple pretty roses. Good times

At this point I'm just trying to list all my thoughts so that maybe I'll be able to sleep and not worry I'll forget

My mom has put her spider plant on the deck, and it has maybe five living leaves. I have no idea how she killed such a well established spider plant, the last time I saw it it was so happy. Did she stick it in a corner and forget to water it? Whatever happened, it is now in the Plant ER, so hopefully I'll be able to...help get it on the up and up again

Leo is such a pretty noodle. He's so pretty. He's posing. Hi, baby boy.

Oh, he saw me moving around and decided to come say hi. Sorry little man, i did not mean to disturb you. Please resume lounging. I can't bring you out right now, I'm trying to sleep.

Also, terrariums. Water features. Need to ask. Someone. The one who was making that super cool garter snake enclosure and blogging the progress? With the lazy river and pool? About maintenance on that kind of setup. My milk snake really enjoys water, and I'd love to put a water feature in his tank. But I'm unclear on how to keep it clean, or honestly where to start. Don't want any huge falls or anything, though it actually may not make the humidity too high if I did maybe a small drip wall into the pool? That seems like something he would enjoy, and a good way to support different types of plants. But like, that's the thing, it's bioactive and I haven't done that before and no amount of research is ever enough.

Oh, Shogun has a dirt hat. How cute. I love when they do that

See, this is the thing. My snakes make me so happy. All three of them are actually hanging out where I can see them from my bed right now, and it's really nice. I want their lives to be the best possible, and I think I have the resources to do that. Which is so exciting. Now if only my brain and body would cooperate. It would hurt quite a lot to have to re-home any of them, but the most important thing is their health and quality of life, you know? If I can't get my act together somewhat, it may be that one or all of them would be better off with another keeper. I don't know. It's just, i talk about all these tank ideas and all this husbandry standards stuff but how much of it actually gets applied to my own animals whose lives are in my hands? How well am I caring for them, really?

Oh!!! My red thread! I thought that was gone forever.

Anyway, please do not worry. My snakes are healthy. I pay attention, and watch for signs of illness, and they're okay. There will always be places to improve, and the water is a big one, but most of the time i change their water out frequently, I'm just worried because of bad depression and fatigue times, you know? I'm working on making the most self sustaining systems i can, in part so that I am sure they'll be okay if I mess up sometimes. Just saying this because I hope you guys don't feel like you need to worry about the welfare of my pets. They're okay, i just always want better for them, is all.

Anyway, the sun is coming up and I should probably go to sleep. So uh, thanks for reading, if you read all of this randomness, and if anyone has thoughts or advice on anything in this post, i would welcome it! Good night!

#mine #long post #snakes #pets #food m #uhhhhhhhhhhhh whatever else needs tagging

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bookandcranny · 3 years

Text

Beatrice - Chapter Two

“We parted on difficult terms. He had some ideas that… challenged my sense of professional integrity. I told him I was out and, well, men like that don't tend to handle rejection too gracefully.

All I know of him after that point is that he ran into some health problems and was forced to step down from his position. It may seem cruel but I think the world is better off for it. Rappaccini is no more qualified to treat the human body than I am to teach a dance class.”

Students filed into the corridor, too busy rushing to their next destination to take note of the visitor as she slipped into the lecture hall. Branching off from the main room itself was a small office, and inside, a lone professor plugging attendance data and homework grades into a blocky desktop computer. Gianna waited until the last lingering students dispersed before announcing herself with a knock on the doorframe.

The professor looked up. “Well look who it is.” She adjusted her glasses and squinted at the figure before her, taking all of her in from the spots of dribbled varnish on her shoes upward. “And who is it who stands before me? Not Virgil’s little girl.”

“I actually go by Gianna these days. Or Ms Alexander if you’re feeling formal,” she said wryly, though not without affection.

Her face broke out in a grin that deepened the wrinkles at the corners of her eyes. She unhooked her cane from the arm of her chair and stood. “The last time I saw you, Gianna, you were half-- no, a quarter of your height and missing your front teeth. Time is a funny thing, isn’t it.”

“You’re telling me, Dr Bagnol.”

“Call me Petra. Or Professor if you’re feeling formal.” She winked and patted her arm. “We are colleagues of a kind now, aren’t we? I think you’ve earned the privilege.”

“I don’t know about that. You’re a biochemistry teacher and I fuss around with cotton swabs.”

“Technicalities! Don’t sell yourself short. You know, your father called just recently and when he told me you were going to be working here, I thought he was going to burst a lung the way he wouldn’t stop singing your praises.”

Gianna blushed at that.

“Frankly, I’m surprised you didn’t set your sights higher than our humble university. I heard you were studying in Naples for a while.”

“I guess I was feeling homesick. Then I moved back in with my parents for a while and soon it was the opposite feeling.”

“Sick of home,” she supplied. “I know the feeling. I remember being your age, never wanting to be still for a moment. I was only surprised to hear you weren’t seduced away by foreign shores.”

She shrugged. “It was never about distance, I just needed to find a place where I felt like my life could really begin. And for right now I think that’s here.” Wanting to move the subject away from herself she added, “Dad says hi, by the way. He also says you need to start answering your email more than once a year.”

“Email. A man of literature like your father should give more respect to the written word. You tell him I won’t settle for less than a hand-scribed letter, like they did in the old days. I want to smell that clean valley air he goes on about etched into the paper.”

Gianna laughed. It was reassuring to find some things never changed. Although the silver in her hair had grown more prominent, Dr Bagnol was in many ways just the same as she remembered her. She never knew exactly how she and her father had met, only that it was while they were both still students, and that Petra had been a firecracker from the start, determined to surpass the role that had been imposed on her as a disabled woman in a field that was often unwelcoming to her. Though Gianna couldn’t say she knew her very well personally, the mythos that had been handed down to her had definitely played a part in her decision to become more independent.

“I’m glad you’re here,” Petra said. “Virgil dropped some hints that I should track you down once you started working here but I told him I wouldn’t have that kind of attitude. You’re a grown woman and you don’t need nannying. However,” She picked up a tote from her desk and slung it around her shoulder. “Since you came to me, I’m free to invite you to lunch.”

“Dad wanted you to check up on me?”

“Don’t take it for a lack of faith in you. Parents worry. It’s what they do. I’m sure he just wanted you to have a familiar face to turn to, should you need it. Come to lunch with me, Gianna. We’ll catch up.”

“Oh, that’s okay. You don’t have to--”

“I’m just going to keep asking until you give in. You know that, right?”

She felt herself soften under her insistence. It wasn’t as if she had other plans anyway. “Yeah, alright. That sounds nice.”

Petra led the way to a little sandwich shop not far off campus and, despite Gianna’s protests, insisted on treating her. The weather was kind to them that day so they took their lunch on the patio watching the cars crawl by to the rhythm of the neverending traffic. They sat and ate and spoke of nothing in particular until, without warning, Dr Bagnol’s gaze caught on something in the distance that put a troubled frown on her face.

“What is it?” She started to turn in her seat.

“Nothing,” she said quickly. Too quickly. Her voice had taken on a sharp quality that startled the young woman, but she caught herself and when she spoke again her voice was even and deliberate. “I thought I saw someone I knew. That’s all.”

Not satisfied with her answer, Gianna glanced over her shoulder. Across the street, standing motionless in front of the crosswalk, was the withered old man she had seen in the garden that first day: Beatrice’s father.

Ever since she had met her that one evening on the fire escape, Gianna had come into the habit of chatting with her almost every day. She couldn’t always guarantee she’d be home from work when Beatrice went out to tend the garden, but on the days she spied her from her window she never hesitated to climb down and visit.

Their chats together weren’t anything especially profound; she got the impression Beatrice really just wanted a friend to keep her company while she worked and Gianna was happy to provide. Often they kept the conversation light and simple. One would ask about the other’s day, or an interesting book they read, or something they heard in the news. Then Beatrice would eventually be summoned by her father or the memory of some other chore she had to attend to inside, and they would part ways.

On the occasions Beatrice wasn’t in such a pleasant mood however, no matter the initial topic the conversation would eventually find its way back to her father. Apparently he was, as Gianna had predicted, in a bad state and sick more often than not, and while Beatrice wasn’t his sole caretaker he trusted her more than the average nurse. The old man had been a doctor before being reduced to the role of patient, and a somewhat renowned one at that. He had homeschooled his daughter and taught her everything he knew. Now she was expected to apply that knowledge by taking on the bulk of responsibility for his care.

He was frail, she said, and the state of his health could be unpredictable, so she was on constant vigil. The only time she really had to herself was when he was asleep or on a rare errand, and she spent that time for the most part in the garden, the place that gave her the greatest sense of peace. It must have been hard on her, Gianna often thought, to be in the prime of her life and chained to his bedside. She understood though. If it had been either of her parents she was sure she would have done the same.

Knowing this also gave her some more sympathy for the old man. It painted him in a more human light, and she berated herself for ever being afraid of him in the first place. But seeing him here now, staring at her again with those scrutinous sunken eyes, resurfaced some of that initial dread. Dr Bagnol seemed to sense it too.

At the moment Beatrice’s father was wearing an unseasonal gray overcoat and carrying an old-fashioned black carpet bag. He lifted his free hand and slowly waved at Gianna, his stony features cracking with the barest attempt at a smile, which did nothing to soften his appearance. In fact, the more she looked at him the more leering the grin appeared to be.

“Don’t acknowledge him, Gianna,” said Dr Bagnol coldly.

“No, no, it’s fine. That’s just my neighbor.” She forced herself to give a friendly wave in return.

Petra reached across the table and grabbed her hand back. “What do you mean he’s your neighbor?”

“His building is next to mine. Why?”

She sighed shakily and gave another glance across the street. The man was beginning to shuffle away now, the retreating shape of him becoming swallowed up by the crowd of fellow pedestrians. Petra released her hand and drew in a tense breath. She steepled her fingers together over the table.

“His name is Giacoma Rappaccini. He was… I knew him, for a time. Not well. He came to me for some insight on a project of his years ago.”

“I heard he was a doctor,” Gianna offered. “You worked together?”

The professor chose her next words carefully. “Officially, he was a 'doctor of holistic and alternative medicines', before he retired that is. But he liked to dabble. Botany, chemistry, anthropology, philosophy. I knew when I met him that he was the sort of man who could spend a hundred years studying and still feel he hadn't learned enough.” She smiled ruefully. “It was a quality we shared, so I agreed to assist him.”

“Doesn't seem like you like the guy much.”

“We parted on difficult terms. He had some ideas that… challenged my sense of professional integrity. I told him I was out and, well, men like that don't tend to handle rejection too gracefully. All I know of him after that point is that he ran into some health problems and was forced to step down from his position. It may seem cruel but I think the world is better off for it. Rappaccini is no more qualified to treat the human body than I am to teach a dance class.

"He's a brilliant intellectual, sure, but he lacks any compassion, any consideration for the value of human life outside of points of data on a chart. He never cared about helping people with his medicine; he only ever cared about pushing his own limits. I think, in the end, he must have pushed himself too far."

Gianna sat and processed that. The man did give her the creeps but in the scant few times she’d witnessed him he’d never come across as malevolent, and Beatrice clearly loved him. Even on the bad days, she only ever spoke well of him, and it was hard to believe a girl like Beatrice could exist without having had a loving upbringing. Whoever her mother was or had been surely was loved by him as well. That was enough evidence for Gianna that he couldn’t be everything Petra claimed him to be.

“You said he’s your neighbor. Has he ever spoken to you? Invited you over?”

She shook her head. “Rumor has it he’s a pretty private person, and I’m not exactly going over to borrow a cup of sugar or anything.”

Gianna opted not to mention her afternoons with his daughter.

She relaxed at that reassurance. “Good. Take my advice and stay far away from Rappaccini. Nothing good ever came from getting too chummy with that man. Now, where were we?”

They changed topics and the conversation gradually returned to safer, more pleasant territory, but Gianna couldn't stop thinking about what she had said, about the old man and about the sweet but melancholy girl who was left alone with him.

-----

Against the professor’s advice, Gianna did continue meeting with Beatrice. It hadn’t even been a question in her mind whether she would. If anything, knowing about Petra’s history with Dr Rappaccini made her all the more curious about the young woman.

She reasoned that she was still technically acting in line with Dr Bagnol’s wishes; she hadn’t so much as glimpsed the shadow of the man since their lunch outing, and the more she spoke with Beatrice the more certain she felt that the daughter was nothing like the boogieman father Petra had described to her, however much of her telling was even accurate.

Beatrice was a sweetheart, bookish and reserved. She smothered laughs behind her hand and averted her eyes when she found herself caught in Gianna’s warm gaze. She was smart, happily listing off the latin genuses of her favorite plants and reciting lessons on phytochemicals she suddenly remembered (she might as well have been speaking latin here too, for as much as Gianna understood her) but at the same time strangely naive.

She had a boundless love for the world, yet Gianna got the impression she’d seen very little of it. Her eyes always went wide with interest when Gianna spoke of the traveling she’d done. Gianna never thought it was all that impressive but she would gladly talk about it, would say just about anything in fact, if it would get her to pay more attention to her than her flowers for a moment.

One time, Gianna playfully inserted a flirtatious Italian phrase into their conversation and was flustered to find Beatrice spoke it near fluently, as well as Spanish, Portuguese, Romanian…

“How many languages do you know?” she asked, stunned.

“Six,” she replied. “Not counting English. I’m thinking about trying Mandarin next, and I can read Arabic but can’t speak it. Honestly, I’m not great with the conversational stuff. I’m just good at memorizing new vocabulary and being able to understand multiple languages gives me a much wider variety of reading material.”

She spoke about her talent with words like it was a card trick she’d picked up in her spare time.

“What do you like to read about?”

That got her excited. When Beatrice got excited she found it harder to play coy or smother her emotions under a layer of cool composure, so of course Gianna tried to get her excited as often as possible.

“Everything. Anything. Father’s library is huge but it’s mostly textbooks and old scientific journals and stuff like that. Which is fine,” she added hurriedly. “I like to read those too, but what I really like to read is… romance novels.”

She confessed it like it was some deep dark secret, grinning and turning berry red beneath the brown of her skin. It occurred to Gianna quite suddenly that she was falling in love with her.

The panic set in right away. She had been happy to have Beatrice as a friend, tamping down her attraction in order to keep spending time with her, but now it was becoming clear that the dam wouldn’t hold forever. She needed to say something, if only to keep from leading her on, if only to keep her from getting the wrong idea or, heaven forbid, the right one.

What if she was straight? Did gay girls read romance too? Did gay girls wear their dresses long and their hair short like her? Gianna had crushed on butches, on femmes, on lipstick, chapstick, snapback, every kind of sapphic on the vast spectrum of preference and presentation, and she still couldn’t get a read on her. Beatrice seemed to be from another world, another time, somehow out of step with the rest of humanity. If she started dropping hints, she couldn’t predict if she would follow her lead or recoil in disgust and never speak to her again.

That night, Gianna had a strange dream. She might have expected she would, given how wound up she’d felt since their last discussion. The ghost of her had followed her up, back through the window of her apartment, and as she tossed and turned in bed that night she was dizzy with it.

In her dream, she found herself walking in a cathedral. As was the way with dreams, her sight was blurry and visions danced and flickered in front of her eyes before vanishing in the same instant. However even as the edges of her surroundings blurred like a bad photograph, she heard the echoing of her footsteps clearly, and felt the largeness of the air around her. There wasn’t another way to describe it, she thought, just a strange sensation of vast emptiness surrounding her, rendering her infinitely smaller by comparison.

She was a child now, and she was at a wedding. Or could it have been a funeral? There were flowers everywhere, but dark ones with big thorns and a smell that clung to the back of her throat and watered her eyes. She reached out to touch one and.

next chapter

#writeblr #chapter story #horror romance #gothic #lgbt #rappaccini's daughter #my writing

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microsuedemouse · 4 years

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man it has been a MINUTE since I made my own post about anything fandom-related on this website but @suzirya is blogging about The Old Guard and I haven’t seen anyone else talking about it really and I’ve got. some thoughts

I had literally never heard of this movie at all until a few nights ago when we were eating dinner in the living room and my dad pulled it up and said ‘hey I want to watch this’ and played the trailer for my brother and me. We were pretty much like yeah, sure, we all enjoy a good action flick, and aside from my other brother (who was occupied with D&D) it ended up being the whole family watching it. and I enjoyed it WAY more than I’d anticipated, especially for something I’d never heard about.

if you don’t know what I’m talking about: drop what you’re doing and go watch The Old Guard on Netflix. (it’s a Netflix original so yes it will be there.) it’s a very fun and good action film based on a series of graphic novels about a small group of immortals trying to do what’s right. there are many selling points but one of them is that it will be very good for your little gay soul, bc Charlize Theron stars (in a character with no explicitly-stated romances but lots of relationships that will make you Feel Things) and two of the other main characters are two men who met during the Crusades and are just amazingly in love with each other. And not in a vague way that the straights can interpret as Powerful Friendship. They are explicitly in love with each other and so devoted and ugh.

ANYWAY. putting the rest of my chattering under a cut bc spoilers and also I’m a wordy piece of shit

1 - early in this movie I was thinking about how glad I am that Charlize Theron has stepped into this role of like... cool female action star, but also, her characters are never super sexed up. almost any female characters I can think of in action movies, if they’re part of the action rather than victims/bystanders, are always made sexy. even when they’re Strong sexy, they’re still... a lot sometimes? I was thinking especially of some Angelina Jolie stuff, Scarlett Johanssen, etc. there are probably lots of exceptions to this that I just don’t know but still - we’ve had Theron in several roles like this recently, and appearance-wise she’s treated with the same respect as her male counterparts, which is so fucking cool and also such a fucking relief. we all love beautiful ladies, obviously, but it’s so SO good to see our female heroes just doing their jobs, without us ever being made aware of their sexuality.

and as the movie went on this was hitting me more and more, and I was also thinking it about... everyone? like. the other female lead, played by KiKi Layne, was arguably more feminine than Theron but not any more sexualised. even once she’s out of her army fatigues she’s dressed with practicality in mind, and again, we never have her female-ness pointed out to us. and I was so about every bit of that. both objectively and as a person whose relationship to female-ness and femininity is kind of weird, it’s such a good thing to see leading women whose gender and appearances and bodies aren’t being focussed on that way.

and as a sidebar to that, while I wouldn’t describe any of the prominent male characters as unattractive by any means, none of them were like... Marvel-actor hot. and I just, idk, especially in action/superhero movies, that’s refreshing to me. a lot of them looked like Regular Dudes in a way that I find very appealing.

2 - can we TALK about Joe and Nicky. holy shit. my brother and I kept leaning over to each other to be like ‘if anything happens to either of them I’ll riot.’ I MEAN.

we got a genuine, explicit, on-screen established romance between these men. it was not implied, it was not just how the actors played it in the hopes that people would catch on - it was right there. they hold each other to sleep, they kiss each other with such love, they talk to other characters about how much they adore each other. they met during the Crusades. they’ve been in love for centuries! and they’re so sweet, so devoted, so adoring! and they never have any arguments or tension to further the plot (one of my personal most-hated plot devices in any story with an established relationship). they just spend this movie loving each other, protecting each other and their weird little family, doing anything they can for each other. they’re taken prisoner and spend their time awake joking and making each other smile. and the one singular bit of casual homophobia they encounter on-screen is met with a declaration of love so heartfelt and intense that the guy who made the shitty comment literally doesn’t know what to say - which is a brief but extremely good scene in the movie, imo.

oh, also worth noting: this romance is biracial and interfaith (inasmuch as either of them may be men of faith after being alive for centuries). just to add to how good this is to see on-screen. all of this on top of them being IMMORTAL AND UNKILLABLE. NO GAYS BURIED HERE

2.5 - can I talk for a second about how goddamn much I love seeing non-hetero romance in genre fiction!!! I know it’s getting easier to find, but still. genre fiction is very much my domain and I love seeing queer romance there, especially when it’s simply an accepted fact and the characters’ queerness isn’t central to the story. narratives about queerness are good and important and serve a function but most of them aren’t really my thing, personally. a story that’s about all kinds of other things but also has queer characters there, being themselves, being in love, is so 1000% my shit.

3 - also? Charlize Theron’s character, Andy?? fascinating from a queer perspective. she doesn’t have any explicitly-stated romance with anyone, but her relationships with other characters are so compelling and so interesting. The backstory about her and another immortal, Quynh, very very distinctly gives you the impression that they were women in love. everything about Andy’s guilt and bitterness over not having been able to find/save Quynh feels so much like there was a romance there. it could have been platonic or familial - they were together, without anyone else, for centuries at least, and therefore obviously developed a very deep love - but the way Andy talks about Quynh it feels so much like there was something left unsaid, or unresolved.

also, her scene with the clerk in the pharmacy. oh my god. this woman clearly recognises that whatever is going on with Andy, something is wrong, and she offers her help, no questions asked. she takes her into the back room and patches up her wound. this scene has such an inherent intimacy because of the close quarters and the privacy and the act taking place, but... there’s also this really interesting connection happening between them, where they recognise something in one another but don’t state it. (personally, I couldn’t help wondering if the clerk was a domestic abuse survivor, maybe? but there are so many ways you could interpret her character from her behaviour and dialogue in that scene, and I’d love to see other people’s takes.)

and then on the other hand you have her relationship with Booker, who’s been with her the longest out of any of the living immortals. they’re incredible. their relationship is so, so interesting and well-depicted! they have such chemistry, that you can easily read as romantic or platonic. they’ve been together for so many hundreds of years and they work together, trust each other, with such a deep understanding and love and respect. and it never quite tips over into the romance you kind of think it will, which imo only makes it that much more compelling - there are so many directions you could take that dynamic.

4 - and then on the topic of Booker: I am SO into the way his betrayal was handled.

he did, undeniably, betray the others. there’s no argument on that fact. his motivations were understandable (and heartbreaking), even to Andy, though certainly not an excuse. so yes, they were furious with him. reasonably so! but... that didn’t actually break their relationships with him. they didn’t leave him behind in the lab, even if in some ways they might have wanted to. and in the ensuing battle, they were still able to work together and trust each other as they always have. the damage done to their larger relationship was put aside to be dealt with after all of this, as it should be. and even when they did deal with it, what they agreed on was just a century of exile from their group. given the lives they’re all living, that seems like such a mild sentence.

but to me, it makes so much sense. again, these people have lived for centuries, and there are so few of them. they need each other. the bonds they’ve formed over all this time together - the trust, the love, the sense of family - would not only be vital to both their survival and their sanity, but also incredibly difficult to truly break. what he did would seem unforgivable from an outside perspective, and even after that century passed I’m certain he’d have to earn back their trust and respect, but it makes absolute sense that they’d be willing to take him back one day.

god. GOD. I’m sure there’s more I could talk about but this is what I can think of right now and I’ve been typing for like forty minutes probably so I’m done for now but.

god.

this movie and its characters GOT ME, guys. I’m really in it. ugh UGH

#the old guard #Courtney talks

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mydarlingklaus · 4 years

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The Confrontation

So this is the second part of my “the merge” drabble which you can find part one here! I highly recommend you read part one first so it makes sense. This is going to be a 3 (or 4) part drabble that I’ve enjoyed writing about and hope you enjoy reading. I’ve already gotten great feedback for it. Leaving reviews on my ff.net account are appreciated. thanks :)

Summary: Aftermath of Klaus finding out that the twins have to merge. This is now the confrontation between Caroline and Lizzie.

(I will die on the hill that Klaus is Lizzie’s dad and no one can tell me shit!)

******************************************

"Mom?"

Caroline instantly lifted her tear-stained face from the palms of her hands to meet Lizzie's worried gaze from across the room. She didn't even realize how fast the school day went and it was already lunch time—nursing a second glass of scotch that had been beside her elbow since morning.

"Hey sweetie." Caroline greeted with a sniffle, wiping away the tears underneath her eyes. "I thought you were studying during your lunch break?"

Lizzie swallowed, taking in her mom's appearance of puffy red eyes and tear coated cheeks.

"Why are you crying?" She wondered.

Despite her distress, Caroline had to push it to the side and seeing her daughter reminded her of that. She still had a school to run and daughters to raise—-chalking up Klaus' absence as a 'time away for work in NOLA' with a quivering fake smile each time they asked. 'Fake it till you make it' was a phrase Caroline knew all too well.

"It's nothing." She brushed off with a hesitant smile.

"Obviously it's something." The braided haired witch challenged.

"What do you want Lizzie? I really don't have time to just talk. I'm very busy." Caroline snapped.

Lizzie scoffed. "Yeah, I can see that." Nodding her head towards the booze. "But fine we can skip the mother/daughter chit chat and cut right to the chase. I want to know why you've been lying to us."

Caroline's eyes grew and lump in her throat jumped at the abrupt—-and accurate—- accusation.

The charade worked, the first day, but Lizzie only grew more persistent. Constantly pestering and pointing out the holes in the fabricated story, mainly Klaus dodging her phone calls—he's never done that since she was able to use a phone.

"I—I don't know what you mean—"

She shook her head. "Don't do that, please don't make an idiot out of me more than you already have!"

"Keep your voice down. School is still in session." Caroline demanded in a hush tone.

The young witch telepathically slammed the door shut behind her, earning a glare from her mother.

"I want to know what happened to Klaus, and I know it was something because he's never ignored my phone calls or texts before. And he definitely never goes back to New Orleans without at least saying goodbye—emergency or not."

Three days.

Three long and antsy days had gone by since she last seen or heard from Klaus. She called all of his siblings but they to not have heard from him either.

Caroline couldn't get that look out of her head. His face full of such disgust and betrayal he could barely suppress his boiling anger—he hadn't looked at her like that since their first days of knowing each other, when he was the enemy and she didn't know what he'd mean to her.

Not that she didn't deserve it, but he didn't even say goodbye before she had to find out on her own when his things were packed and car missing. He was big bad hybrid Klaus, so she wasn't necessarily concerned for his safety, but not knowing where he was and if he was mentally stable caused just as much anxiety.

Caroline gave Alaric an earful for informing Klaus before she had the opportunity to, which only resulted in her feeling worse than she already did. She never expected Klaus to take the news about the merge lightly, but she underestimated how hurt he'd feel. He's feeling as helpless as she now does.

After hundreds of failed calls and texts, the only thing Caroline could do was impatiently wait for this return—whenever that would be. She didn't even know where he was, crying herself to sleep every night. Missing him, yearning and worried about him. Subconsciously reaching over to the cold vacant spot on the bed beside her where his warm body usually lied to embrace her in his arms as they caught slumber together. He was her refugee and security—now he wasn't. Caroline never felt more incomplete and unsafe.

It was driving her crazy not knowing his whereabouts or his well being—she couldn't pretend that the fragility of their relationship wasn't also packing into her anxiety.

Caroline sighed, standing from her office chair. "It's complicated—"

"It always is with you." She muttered.

"Hey!" Caroline sternly pointed her finger. "I don't care how you're feeling or how upset you are, you won't disrespect me."

"You have to give respect to earn it, and lying to me about where Klaus has been when you've seen me going crazy over it isn't exactly role model behavior."

"Lizzie—"

"What happened? Where is he!"

"I don't know!" Caroline blurted.

She felt all she could do in this moment was scream. As if her anxiety wasn't already thriving on Klaus' sudden disappearance her own disgusted wasn't making it better with her accusations.

"I don't know..." Caroline repeated, looking up at her beautiful daughter who's tear-filled eyes matched hers.

Lizzie cautiously approached her mother who was now holding her hand over her mouth to suppress her sobs. She pushed her hair back anxiously, swallowing her nerves while taking a seat and crossing her legs.

"Um, did you and Klaus like break up or something?" She asked, fearing the response.

Caroline shook her head, wiping under her eyes again. "No, nothing like that."

- Right?

Lizzie let out a subtle breath of relief.

"But it is something. Bad enough for him to leave out of nowhere. Please mom." Scooting to the edge of the chair. "What happened between you two?"

The obvious concern in her daughter's voice only worsened Caroline's guilt.

There was no one in this scenario she was more angry with than herself and she hated not having the answers Lizzie wanted, but she was scared. Scared to tell her the truth of why Klaus fled in the first place—possibly losing him was devastating but losing Lizzie or Josie would be soul crushing.

Caroline took a deep breath, leaning against her desk while grabbing both of Lizzie's hands. Her beautiful and smart Lizzie, with so many aspirations and goals for her future. How was she supposed to explain that in just a few years there's a 50/50 chance she won't have one?

"Um, me and Klaus had an argument."

Lizzie's eyebrows scrunched. "But you guys never argue, and if you do it's over dumb stuff like when he wanted to fly me and Josie out to Tokyo for our sweet 16 during a school week."

Caroline sadly laughed, thinking back on all of Klaus' outrageous and ridiculous gestures that made her love him so much.

"Yeah..." She sniffled. "Um, Lizzie there's something I need to tell you and I really wish Josie was here because it's actually something I need to tell both of you."

Lizzie gulped, suddenly feeling a shiver of panic run down her arms as Caroline continued.

"Jo, your birth mother, was a descendant from what is known as the Gemini coven. When you girls were first born I didn't know what that meant or the significance until your fifth birthday when you began developing your magic...that's when your father explained it to me."

"Dad?" Lizzie questioned.

- What did he have to do with it?

Licking her lips nervously, Caroline resumed. "Being apart of this particular coven comes with a price, a curse known as 'the merge', for every new set of twins. When Gemini twins turn 22 years old the merge forces you to participate in a duel against one another to determine who will lead the coven until the next generation. Only one of you is meant to survive..."

The young witch gulped again, as she tried to process what was being told to her. This was impossible information to digest and she felt any second she was going to puke.

"So...what you're saying is that, one of us will have to kill the other?" Lizzie asked, feeling more sick and confused with every burning question popping into her head and how it led to Klaus' departure.

- Did he know about this?

She wondered.

"More like absorb." Caroline clarified. "Whoever is to win the duel would acquire the other's power. That's part of why I was doing so much traveling a few years back, why I was away from home all those long and tortuous months. It was to find a cure or some type of loophole. We were hoping this would be something neither of you would even have to know about, let alone experience."

- What the hell?

Was all Lizzie could think. She felt frozen in the uncomfortable chair, barely listening anymore to her own mother justifying her reason to keep her death sentence a secret her entire life—their lives.

Josie.

How was she supposed to break this down to her sister when she didn't fully understand it herself? Lizzie's entire life felt like a lie. What other secrets were her parents keeping from them?

How did her life take such a drastic turn in a mere of a few minutes? Just yesterday she was brainstorming prom dresses and venue ideas for the dance. Post-graduation plans of going off to New York for college and stressing over if Sebastian would follow her wherever she went. Would their relationship even make it to graduation? Would she live in dorms or pursued Klaus to pitch in for an apartment? Design school or major in literature? She was supposed to be thinking about the beginning of her life, not the ending.

"I know this is a lot to take in at once and you must have a million questions that I'm more than willing to answer." Caroline said, making Lizzie blink—-one, two, three times as she mentally jumped back into the conversation. Her face still blank as the words spewed.

The letters G-U-I-L-T couldn't be bolder on her mother's face if they tried. Her pleading blue eyes and quivering bottom lip did nothing to sway Lizzie from her state of shock.

"You can't imagine how sorry I am we didn't tell you girls sooner, but it's what we felt was best at the time. We wanted to wait until your 18th birthday with the hopes we'd find a solution by then, and you girls would be old enough to understand..."

Lizzie still said nothing.

Caroline squeezed her hand. "Sweetie I know this is scary and overwhelming. Believe me this wasn't easy on me or your father having to keep it from you and your sister, definitely not how we wanted to tell you. It wasn't our intention to lie. This was an impossible decision to make, everyday it killed me that you girls didn't know but...how do you tell your children that there are things you can't protect them from, not even each other?"

One tear fell down each of Lizzie's cheek, unsure if she was more angry or sad—maybe a lot of both. Her life was flipped, disintegrating, literally hanging by a thread and the only person she wanted to console in and seek advice from was MIA.

"You should have told us..." Lizzie finally said, coldly, when she eventually found her voice. Abruptly snatching her hands from Caroline's and placing them in her own lap.

The small—-microscopic—-understanding part of her brain was quickly being dominated by her burning rage.

Her lips quivered as she stood to her feet, stepped outside the chair to increase the distance between them. Seeing Caroline's face dramatically drop made her stomach turn, briefly, then she was reminded why she looked so distraught in the first place.

She shook her head frantically. "You—you should have told us, way before now. Way before you encouraged us to live our abnormal life as greatly as possible. Remember that?"

"Lizzie—"

"Instead of giving me and Josie false hope that we had any chance of getting out of this shit town to do anything we desire, you should've just told us the damn truth!"

"Elizabeth Saltzman!" Caroline stomped her foot powerfully, enough to shake the ground.

Lizzie knew she was crossing the line but her anger piled on top of each other until it became its own monster. But she didn't care about, not anymore.

"I had dreams, real goals for my future mom." Lizzie sobbed. "For the first time in years I felt normal and was genuinely happy. My mental health was managed and I was actually looking forward to living. I was going to leave Mystic Falls, did you know that?!"

Caroline gasped. "Wh-what?"

Lizzie scoffed and rolled her eyes. "Of course you didn't, why would you? But yes I had a whole plan mapped out to leave this place after graduation. Go to school somewhere new. I wanted to stay stateside for now, probably New York with Auntie Rebekah or Los Angeles with Uncle Kol. Just to start a new life, my own, in a big vibrant city where no one knew who I was. Where I wouldn't be the neurotic witch, the bipolar freak, Josie's sister, or Caroline Forbes' daughter...I'd just be me. Attending whatever college I wan and make new real friends and finally live my life!"

Lizzie looked heartbroken, as the hot tears dogged her vision.

Caroline opened and closed her mouth. This was brand new information. It never occurred to her that either of the twins desires to flee the small town they've known as home—-neither ever brought it up. This reminded her a lot of herself at their age, stores she's told them multiple times in disguise of bedtime stories. Which only pained her more that Lizzie didn't think she could confide in her about these incredible dreams.

"You—you never told me about that."

"You never asked." Lizzie fired back, crossing her arms over chest defensively.

Caroline nodded. "You're right, I should've. I've been so invested in so many things lately I allowed them to overrun you and I'm sorry. I should be more involved in your future as well as your present—"

"Is it because you know only one of us would have one?"

Caroline's eyes narrowed offensively.

"Lizzie, of course not. I always had hope we would find something by now and I'm sorry we didn't. I'm sorry this is how you found out and that all of this is happening. You have to know this is the last thing I wanted for either of you." She pleaded, reaching for her daughter who instantly pushed her hand away.

Her chest tightened at the blatant rejection.

17 years, neither of the twins had ever been genuinely angry with Caroline before, besides basic teenage angst. Never were they full blown hateful or disrespectful, not that she blamed her but the justification didn't lessen the pain. The way Lizzie was staring at her, with such disgust and hurt pulsing through her bloodshot blue eyes made Caroline's stomach turn. She was taking the full beating for something initiated by both her and Alaric—-she'll relay the anger towards him later.

It was the same way Klaus looked at her.

Pulling a tissue from her bag Lizzie wiped her nose, biting down on her bottom lip. Growing more enraged by the second as the realization settled in and raised her eyes.

"He didn't know either, did he?"

Caroline licked her dry lips anxiously.

"Answer me." Lizzie demanded through her clenched pearly white teeth, huffing out a puff of air when her mother responded.

"No, he didn't."

Pacing, back and forth, in her corner—pinching her bottom lip between her shaky index finger and thumb Lizzie felt she was at her wits end. Despite her shattered exterior, it was comforting to know Klaus was just as in the dark about the situation.

She was certain she wouldn't be able to handle Klaus of all people lying to her too.

The young witch eventually stopped pacing, hanging her head low with her hands firmly on her denim clad hips. Trying to gather all her thoughts best she could but every conclusion had the same tragic outcome. Lizzie loved her mother, with everything she had, but this was a life decision she and Alaric made about she and Josie's life. This was a huge secret they voluntarily kept from them since birth—no matter the intentions it was wrong and harmful and drove away the only person in her life who's ever been honest with her.

Quite frankly she was too hurt and confused to care about anyone's feelings but her own.

Caroline stood patiently by her desk, waiting for her daughter to break the tension any second now.

Lizzie sniffled. "Klaus, um—Klaus wasn't an easy adjustment when he officially became apart of our lives. I didn't know what he was supposed to be to me and Josie, what Hope was supposed to be. There was a moment, brief, but a moment where I didn't want either of them around. I never told anyone that."

The baby vampire felt all her emotions bottling up in the base of her throat at her daughter's shocking admission.

"Klaus quickly became one of the most important people in my life—probably the only person I could depend on fir anything, but especially when life became overwhelming." She explained, blinking away her thick tears. "He was always the one who told me to dream big, to never limit myself no matter how far fetched it seemed. He encouraged all three of us—me, Josie and Hope—to get away from this small town the first chance we got if that's what we wanted. He wanted us to live. He was the most constant thing I had and you took that from me, you took everything from me..." She shook her head side to side, still not entirely processing the devastating news.

Caroline's chest caved and heart fell to the pit of her stomach. Hearing all of this—-what Klaus meant to Lizzie and vice versa—broke her heart more than anything she's ever encountered in her 25 years of living. All the death and tragedy that's surrounded her since knowing the existence of the supernatural held no water to the familial bond she broke between father and daughter.

Seeing Lizzie so distraught was gut wrenching, and knowing nothing she could say would make her pain go away. Caroline had to admit she underestimated the reactions from a kept secret fueled by good intentions.

Swallowing back her tears, she tried reaching her hand out again. "Lizzie please—"

"Klaus left because of you. He abandoned us and it's your fault!" Lizzie screamed, aggressively pushing her away and unintentionally blowing out the lights in Caroline's office and the outdoor hallway.

The ground shook—like a mini earthquake—but enough to rattle around everything in the large office space. No doubt the rest of the school felt it just as intensely. Caroline covered her ears and slightly lost her balance, tripping over her feet as the shaking wound down. Her initial mortified gaze now stunned and proud at her girl's amazing abilities but Lizzie wasn't letting up—leaving now room for praise.

"He left because he couldn't bare to stare at your lying face anymore than I can." She said exhaustedly. Voice hoarse, face blank and wet with tears.

Her body was present but it seemed she consciously wasn't. She had no more energy to give. After all the cries and yells she was mentally drained, not even enough to show a reaction to Caroline who was practically sobbing in front of her. Maybe there was a rational side to this, maybe, somewhere deep inside her core surely there was a justification. But Lizzie didn't have it in her to search for it, not now and she wasn't sure if she ever would.

Caroline pressed her quivering lips into a tight line, staring up at the ceiling to clear the glassy film over her eyes before fixating on her daughter again—no such luck. The rage, understood, the grief—valid. But the blatant disrespect was exceeding a level of inappropriate she didn't think was possible.

"Lizzie." She said sternly, approaching her with an equally reddened face. "This is a lot, I get that and your anger is beyond justified. I love you, and Klaus, and I really wish he was here right now but he's not. I don't know where he is yet. I don't know when or if he's coming back anytime soon and I'm sorry I can't provide you all the answers you want, but what I do know is that I'm still your mother. No matter how upset you are that is never going to change and you will not speak to me anyway you want. Is that understood?"

Lizzie swallowed audibly. Her body still facing forward as she grabbed the doorknob and twisting it with her shaky wrist. Staring Caroline down with a glare so sharp, it defined the phrase 'looks can kill'.

"You're not even my real mom. You're just the surrogate, remember?"

- Wow.

Caroline's stomach dropped, knees buckled and face drained of color and emotions. Her undead heart grew colder and weaker and body shriveled like a flower during Winter time, as Lizzie's haunting last words repeatedly stabbed her in the chest, over and over again. Her mouth opened and closed but no words came out—-there were no words to explain how Caroline was feeling. Even if it was a heat of the moment outburst, the blow couldn't have been any lower.

She didn't think anything could hurt more than watching Klaus walk away, until her distraught daughter stormed out the door without another look.

*****************************************************

Night time came quicker than anticipated. The school day came and went, and an exhausted Caroline couldn't be more relieved to be in the comfort of her home. Thankfully the house was empty, giving her all the alone tone she craved. Throwing her keys on the marble countertop after closing the door behind her—immediately making her ear upstairs to her room to drop off her bags and laptop.

After the horrific confrontation with Lizzie, the remainder of the afternoon Caroline was stuck with paperwork, phone calls, meetings and delinquent students. Never her favorite moments of the day but it was the perfect distraction from her personal life. The last thing Lizzie said still ringing in her ear and making her bleed by the lobes.

You're not even my real mom.

- Yup, still stings.

Still in disbelief Lizzie had it in her to say such a thing—to want to hurt her that badly. Bringing back the negative memories of when the twins were first born and everyone referred to them as Alaric's instead of theirs. Having to fight and prove she was worthy of the title as a mother, as if she wasn't the one who carried them for nine months and nearly died from it.

Her past frustrations beginning to mingle with the new.

She hadn't seen Lizzie around campus since and didn't make any attempts at calling or texting. Caroline figured she needed some space, it was a heavy case load of information that she was nowhere near prepared to drop yet. She wondered if Josie knew yet, or even Hope.

Caroline heavily sighed—-wanting nothing more than a warm bath, jazz on vinyl and a Cosmopolitan to was it all down.

Now in her bedroom, she prepared for just that. Her leather jacket, black pumps and laptop bag suffered the same fate as her house keys—carelessly thrown on the nearest surface. Running her fingers through her golden blonde curls with another sigh leaving her lips, taking as many breaths possible.

Looking down at the freshly made queen sized bed, she briefly paused, realizing this would make night four of sleeping in its comfort alone. No more safe and warm arms wrapped around her waist, holding her body snugged against his front. Light kisses and seductive licks up her exposed neck. Humming to sleep with a lazy smile as he whispered dirty confessions and sweet nothings on her ear. No more whispered 'I love yous' shared in the dark when basking in their mutual glow after making love.

She missed him...god did she miss him. Everything about Klaus made her feel so whole—never feeling more loved in her entire life. It amazed her how quickly he became a focal point in her life and how, just as quickly, he wasn't there.

This was the longest they've gone without speaking to each other and it was pure torture.

With that thought Caroline sat up on her bed, legs tucked under each other's and pulled her iPhone out her purse.

Her throat tightened—biting down on her bottom lip apprehensively as her thumb waved over his name in her contacts list. If she had a heartbeat she would've heard it pounding crazily in her ears by now. Giving their recent track record, the likelihood of him answering her at all was slim to none...

- What the hell.

Realizing she had nothing to lose, Caroline sucked in some bravery and pressed the 'call' button with a shaking thumb. Holding the device against her ear impatiently but, per usual, she was directed to his automatic voice message system. She wasn't too surprised he turned his phone off but more by his other skills.

Even for being centuries old and, usually, technologically challenged Klaus had enough knowledge on modern technology to disable the tracking feature.

Caroline smiled to herself at the sound of his distinct and seductive voice for his voicemail, remembering when she begged him to record one and how it took 15 minutes to persuade; nearly bursting into tears before the beep.

- This is so pathetic. You look pathetic and needy but if you just hang up now you can redeem some of your dignity.

Going against her own subconscious, she remained on the phone and quickly composed herself while clearing her throat at the sound of the beep.

- Shit.

"Hey, it's me but you already knew that because my number is in your phone." Caroline began with a sad smile and picking at the fabric of her pants with her fingertips. "Um, so I know your phone has been off the past couple of days and you're not exactly in the mood to talk to me now which I understand but um...I hope you're okay. You're on my mind everyday and...well I've had quite the day, a pretty shitty one actually and all I wanted to do afterwards was come home to you. Whenever I feel horrible I go to you, not because it takes one shitty thing to know another or anything like that. I just—" She smacked herself on the forehead.

Now she was a rambling mess, per usual when put in nerve racking situations but she caught herself. Closing her eyes for a second to release a long exhale before continuing.

Her blue eyes already welling up like the sea.

"You always make me feel better because, well you're the love of my life. That's still surreal to say, um, but it's true. You make me feel safe and valid, even when I probably don't deserve it. You're my greatest supporter, shoulder to cry on. You give me comfort, and I could really use some of that right now." She sniffled into a smile, shaking her head. "I'm so sorry, for everything. I regret keeping that from you when all you've ever done was be honest with me, but even more I regret letting you walk out that door. I didn't realize how much you were the glue keeping his family together until you were gone. We need you home, I need you. I miss you, and I really wish you were here."

The minute she hung up the phone, with a final tear streaming down her face, Alaric appeared in the doorway with bugged eyes and frustrated expression on his face.

Caroline's eyebrows pulled together in concern as she stood from her bed.

"What's wrong?"

He sighed, leaning one hand against the threshold. "It's Lizzie, she's gone."

*******************************************************

Klaus stared intently at the wall of his dark studio—sketchbook resting on his lap and a glass of bourbon in his hand. Everyone else in the house were in their respective rooms, likely asleep, but he was wide awake and alone.

He didn't intend on staying in New Orleans longer than a couple of days—-fleeing wasn't in his plans either—-but every night he'd close his and an image of the twins lying lifeless in the dirt flashed before him and jerking him awake. The news of the merge wasn't something he wanted to accept, nor something he could avoid—Caroline avoided it long enough.

Caroline.

His Caroline. His light, his love, his everything and more—who he now couldn't look at without feeling immense anger. With all the progression they've made through the years, from a friendship to blending their families he couldn't fathom why she didn't think she could confide in him. Why she didn't trust him with the truth about the girls—their girls! Now it felt too late, not enough time to be there for them the way he promised. Five years were nothing. They'll fly by in a blink of an eye, which one of them would be dead and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

Despite his animosity towards her, Klaus missed Caroline the longer he stayed away. Over a decade she played a crucial role in his heart and finally having her in his life intensified the already burning love. He missed kissing her before going to sleep and distracting her from work responsibilities. Everything about her made him happy to be alive. They never went more than a day without speaking, let alone him abruptly leaving and not at least informing her of his whereabouts.

He transformed into a wolf that first night, running wild and free in the dark woods of Mystic Falls for the whole night. Desperately trying to but out his frustration that never left. The urge to rip apart anyone who stood in his way was strong. All he saw was vibrant blood shot red as the moon washed through his dark brown coat, howling to himself in despair. Klaus was usually incapable of controlling his beast but demonstrated remarkable self control as he regained form any kills and turned back to a two-legged man when the sun began to set. Getting dressed and driving off to New Orleans like his life depended on it. Compelling his way through speeding tickets and hitchhiker's blood for the road, before finally arriving to his home.

Living under the same roof with Elijah, Freya and Hayley again wasn't an arrangement he missed in the slightest. Just as nosy as ever with their millions of inquires when he arrived on the front door. Thankfully all his irritants of siblings didn't live together anymore, but it didn't take long for word to spread to Rebekah and Kol who bombarded his phone with invasive questions. Hayley was probably the most respectable. After receiving the reassurance that Hope was safe, they spoke briefly while he unpacked. She knew his surprise arrival was Caroline related but didn't press him for information like the rest of the Mikaelson clan—Klaus appreciated the discretion.

Eventually he turned his phone off, not just to ignore his siblings but to also fight the temptation of reaching out to a certain blonde. He was in no shape to speak to her right now, and their last confrontation wasn't pretty either. Instead he buried himself into his art and community to distract from the shenanigans known as Mystic Falls.

Klaus' ears perked and eyes shot up when he sensed a presence outside the mansion—his suspicions confirmed at the sound of the doorbell repeatedly ringing. He threw his head back with a groan, certainly not in the mood for any surprise company—not to mention it was the middle of the night.

Ring. Ring. Ring. Ring.

"Fuckin' hell." He mumbled, rolling his eyes.

After finishing off his drink, Klaus slammed it on the table and stood from the chair with murder on his mind.

Storming towards the front door he yanked it open with as much force as he could muster, fangs out and vampiric eyes already golden and threatening.

Klaus' body stiffened.

His jaw clenched and stomach dropped as he held the door open. A mix of emotions ran through him as he stared in awe at the blonde girl before him who was looking back at him with the doest of eyes.

"Lizzie?" His voice almost a whisper.

"Surprise!" She hesitantly waved. Her half lip-glossed smile made his chest jump and hands soften.

After the initial shock faded, his eyes observed her appearance to make sure she was at least in good condition before he lashed out.

She had an overnight bag hanging on her arm and backpack thrown across her back. It was a fairly warm night, so her washed jeans with a cropped black sweater and tennis shoes was perfect attire; however, not typical Lizzie-like attire. Her wavy blonde hair was still perfectly in place.

Klaus nearly cried at the sight of her angelic face, for more than one reason.

- What the hell is she doing here? How did she know I was here? Is she here alone?

She was safe, good, now he can be mad.

"What—what are you doing here in New Orleans, at bloody 2 A.M. no less?"

"Klaus I—"

"How did you even get here?" He asked.

Lizzie gulped. "I—I flew."

"You flew, alone?" Klaus' eyes widened with his assumption.

She nodded.

He shook his head in disbelief while running his fingers through his curls irritably as if he felt a migraine coming along.

"Are you mad!" Klaus stepped closer towards her. "You drove through the French Quarter, on your own for the first time in the middle of the night. What were you thinking? Anything could've happened to you Lizzie do you realize that!" He growled.

"But nothing did. As you can see I'm fine!"

Words couldn't describe the amount of fear running through his body and blood rushing to his brain, at just the thought of anything going awry during her journey. Whether it be through the airport or on her way to the mansion. Lizzie's safety being compromised in his own city. He didn't even care that he was yelling.

This was New Orleans, boundaries were obsolete. He's seen what can happen to girls wandering around the city alone—he's had his fair share of sins. Knowing he'd paint the entire state of Louisiana red if anyone even thought of touching her.

Klaus rubbed his hand over his face, taking a deep breath while trying to calm himself.

Licking her lips nervously, Lizzie sighed.

She knew he'd be shocked to see her but maybe she overestimated how much.

"Look, I know you're like really pissed off with me and I get that. There's an actual explanation which we can talk about all of it inside but...you wouldn't by any chance have $60 to cover my cab? I kinda already told the driver you were good for it."

Just when he thought his night was uneventful.

**********************************************************

part 3 coming soon!

#klaroline #klaroline drabbles #klaroline fanfiction #lizzie saltzman #caroline forbes #klaus mikaelson #KLAUS IS THE FATHER LIZZIE DESERVED!!#and they'd be inseparable #my writing #klaroline shippers club #caroline's voicemail was my fav part to write #and the klaus/lizzie scene obviously #lizzie saltzman-forbes mikaelson

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lanaisnotwool · 4 years

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414 Using Meetups to Grow Your Business - Interview with Adam Adams

http://moneyripples.com/2020/08/14/414-using-meetups-to-grow-your-business-interview-with-adam-adams/

Could creating a meetup group cause massive growth in your business?

Adam A. Adams, also known in the real estate community as Triple-A, has educated thousands of investors through real estate conferences, radio & podcast interviews, his coaching program, and his thriving Meetup group.

Adam hosts the Creative Real Estate Podcast, a podcast listened to around the world, with hundreds of thousands of downloads. His efforts to educate and inspire other investors have earned him the prestigious title “Master Investor” by Think Realty magazine and he is also a three-time Hall of Fame winner from RE Mentor for his successes in multifamily syndications.

In 2005, Adam took the plunge into part-time real estate investing, but it quickly became his full-time passion!

Today Adam is partnered in 7 multifamily syndications with approximately 1,400 doors valued slightly over $100 million. His company, BlueSpruce Holdings, focuses on finding and managing apartment communities to allow passive investors diversification, cash flow, tax benefits, and freedom of time.

Adam’s primary role in the company is to attract capital, successfully raising millions of dollars from private investors. He continues to grow his company’s brand as one of the top syndication teams in the United States.

Listen to our Podcast here:

https://www.blogtalkradio.com/moneyripples/2020/07/03/414--using-meetups-to-grow-your-business-interview-with-adam-adams

----------------------------------------------------------------------

Chris Miles (00:00): Well, hello, my fellow Ripplers! This is Chris Miles. Your Cash Flow Expert and Anti-Financial Advisor. We want to welcome you out guys for a wonderful show. A show that's for you and about you. Those of you that work so freaking hard for your money, and you're now ready for your money to start working harder for you. Today! You want that freedom. That cash flow. That prosperity. Right now! Not 30 or 40 bazillion years from now, but right now. So you can have that life of freedom to be able to do what you love. To be with those you love. Whenever the heck you want to do it. But it's so much more than just having a life of luxury, right? It's so much more than just, you know, having great cash flow and being financially free. But it's about having that life of legacy. Being that Rippler. Where you create a ripple effect to the lives of those around you. And guys, I appreciate it so much for allowing me to create a ripple effect through you guys.

Chris Miles (00:56): Cause you guys have been awesome. I love hearing how much you guys are bingeing lately, and you've been sharing it with other people and everything else. I love watching those numbers grow. So I appreciate it so much that you guys are a part of this movement. Allowing this ripple effect to go through so many lives, if not thousands, the hundreds of thousands. So thank you so much guys.

Chris Miles (01:13): As a reminder, you can check out our website, MoneyRipples.Com There you can go and see all of the good stuff. You know, everything from, you know, blogs from a couple of years ago that I occasionally write. Do even our little ebook called Beyond Rice & Beans, Seven Secrets to Free Up Cash Today. Which you can see there now. So check it out! Alright!

Chris Miles (01:33): So today I want to bring on a special guest because this is the guy that, I've been on his show as well. But man, he had a reputation that proceeded himself and it finally had the opportunity to have him on our show. I can't believe I didn't, I've taken it, taken me this long to even get him on here. So this guy is Adam Adams. Some of you guys might know if you're in the real estate community already. He's also known as Triple A, right? He's educated thousands of investors to real estate conferences, podcasts and radio interviews, coaching programs, his meetup groups and everything. Right? He's also the creative real estate podcast that I ever suggest you guys go check out. His let's do around the world has hundreds of thousands downloads as well. His effort to educate and inspire other investors had earned him the prestigious title of Master Investor by Think Realty Magazine. And he's also a three-time hall of fame winner of RE Mentor for his success in multifamily syndication's. Meetup.com has also recognized him as one of the top six meetup organizers in the world in 2018 guys. Which is going to be part of our topic today. He took the plunge and decided to go part time real estate investing, but it quickly became a full time passion for him. Today he's partnering in seven multifamily syndications with approximately 1400 doors valued at slightly over a hundred million dollars. His company, BlueSpruce Holdings, focused on finding and managing apartment communities to allow passive investor diversification, cash flow, tax benefits, and freedom of time. So guys, this is huge! So excited to have Adam on. So Adam, welcome to our show!

Adam Adams (03:01): Thank you so much for having me. And as you said, I've had you on our show a couple of times. So we really like and respect what you're doing, Chris.

Chris Miles (03:09): Yeah, absolutely man. So, give us a little background, like why'd you even go the real estate route in the first place?

Adam Adams (03:14): I went real estate because of my family. I grew up doing real estate. So it seemed like a normal thing. So I had one of those unique childhoods where a lot of people grow up and real estate seems like a far off thing. I was almost pushing it away because it was so close. My dad was always saying, you're going to do this. You're going to do this. You got to save 10%. You got to invest 10%. And so it was actually in college when he first purchased my first real estate for me, then his CPA told him that he, I had to buy it back from him or else he was going to pay a lot in taxes. So yeah, fun stuff. When you're a college student and barely making your books to have to pay for real estate. But with the cool thing is I made a 12000% return on my money within two years.

Adam Adams (04:03): And so in 2007, two years later after selling that I had more money in the bank than I had ever made in an entire year before that. And so I was thinking to myself, well, I'm going to have to figure out how to really make this real estate thing work for me. I was going to school for music education. I'm a musician. Been writing music since I was very young. And it was that time when I decided that I'm probably not going to be a teacher because this was a whole years of teacher salary already. So I decided that that was what I was going to focus on. So I bought my first, my first triplex, I lived in it house hacked. Made some money in it. Managed some other properties. Made somebody a couple of million bucks fast. And it was like, I couldn't get away from it. I couldn't get away from it. So fast forward, 15 years. And now I have over a thousand apartments that I'm partnered in and loving every minute of it.

Chris Miles (05:06): I love it, man! Man. So what, so tell us, like, obviously you've got a huge reputation for, like, you know, social media. You got this reputation for marketing. I mean, you even got asked to speak at the meetup conference, right? You made a global conference there as one of the top six speakers there, right? Like what they, how'd you even go the marketing route, like, was that just stumbled on by accident or is that just something that you just seem to master really naturally?

Adam Adams (05:31): That's a really good question. I feel like it was essential for me to learn it because when I was getting started in real estate, you know, and when I was starting to raise equity, I felt as though I was being drowned out completely by a lot of other noise and some of it was loud, you know, Grant Cardone is loud. And he's drowning out a lot of the people that want to be in real estate or marketing or branding. And I felt that it was just necessary to figure out how I could start standing out. And I stumbled across some of it by accident. Like with the meetups that you mentioned, I was brand new to Colorado. I had just moved here to Colorado five years ago. And when I got here, I didn't really know anyone.

Adam Adams (06:31): I felt brand new and I felt like someone told me your network is your net worth. And so with the marketing and branding, I remember thinking, I've got to figure out how to grow a network in a new place. And it was actually my mother in law who said that meetup was a place that you could kind of grow your brand and get to know people in a new place. So I just started to meetup. I literally just, you know, I don't suggest this to other people ready, fire aim. I always say ready, aim, fire, take the time to really figure it out. Yeah. And especially now that I can help other people do the same thing. I want them to skip their learning curve, but I just, I jumped into it. And the marketing I learned over time because in the beginning I only had a couple of people showing up.

Adam Adams (07:25): And the only way on meetups that I could have more people come to the group is if I spent extra time in the back. In, what is it in the background. Actually marketing the meetup. And I did things like take pictures while I was there. Write stories about people that attend, because I felt like if, if other people that were going through the same thing knew that there was people like them attending my meetup, that would help them think, Oh, I should come to this meetup too. That guy had my problem. And now he's successful. So I just started marketing, branding and throwing this out in, like you said, a couple years later, meetup HQ flew me out to speak to 150 of their top people. And that was a lot of fun. So in short I stumbled across it. Yes. I learned the hard way. Yes. And then I realized that if you don't take the time to market and brand who you are and what you're doing, people are just going to go to the other people that they're hearing marketing brand, who they are and what they're doing.

Chris Miles (08:35): Well, that's kind of, I was going to ask you is like, whether someone's in a real estate investor or if they are a business owner, right? I know cause we've got different people on this show. You know, why do they feel so important that they do brand themselves or market themselves and have this kind of influence?

Adam Adams (08:49): Yeah. Well, if they are a real estate investor and they're looking for deals, it's the main thing that is brought my company deals. And so here you go, this is the best way to sum it up. People do business with people that they know like and trust, right? And we all know that. And if 10 people know you, what's the most amount of people that could ever like you or trust you? The max. So if you want to build a funnel, people are talking a lot about funnels these days. So a lot of people think it's just a website. A funnel is a lot more than a website. A website is a piece, a small piece of a funnel. But if you want people to know you so that they can like you so that they can trust you so that they can invest passively in your deal or give you the next deal that they find where you need to close it or just do business with you. Then you got to have a lot of people knowing you. And to do that, you have to, I call it the four pillars just to brief it out.

Adam Adams (09:53): You got to have some type of thought leadership. There's five different thought leadership platforms we could talk about. You got to have some type of live event where you're meeting people in person and getting to know them. You gotta do something on your social media, where people, when they search for you, they literally can find you because these days, if they don't see you on LinkedIn or Facebook within the first five minutes of searching, they immediately go to the next person. So you gotta be active. And then the fourth one is your, I call it a Lead Magnet, which is some type of giveaway that helps your perfect person, that either will invest in your deal or do business with you to be able to convert from knowing you into starting to trust you. Right? So those are my four pillars and they're really, really important. You got to do all four of them and the meetups, the live events, I've raised $4.2 million for our apartments for my real estate deals have come. I can count exactly that amount of money just from the meetups. We've had a few million from the podcast too, but it's interesting how effective the meetup groups have been.

Chris Miles (11:09): It's interesting too, because I know a lot of, especially real estate investors out there will think the meetup groups are like a complete waste of time. They're like, Oh, don't even go to those things. There's just a bunch of wannabe investors there. Nobody really of good value. And you're completely flipping that upside down and say, no, absolutely. It's one of the best places to be, right?

Adam Adams (11:29): Yeah. Well, but you're right. There's a ton of people that say, don't go to meetups. And I actually think, I'm going to be honest. Most of them are correct. Don't go to meetups! Going to meetups is completely different than hosting meetups.

Chris Miles (11:46): Interesting.

Adam Adams (11:47): When you, let's just pretend like you're new, you have money and you're going to a meetup. You see 30 people, 30 different people. You've got a leader or maybe two leaders and 28 other people besides yourself. Yeah. The first person you're going to decide to know like, and trust the first person is probably going to be who? Not one of the 28.

Chris Miles (12:12): Right.

Adam Adams (12:13): It'd be one of the leaders, at least the leader or two. So when you're hosting these events, you get the deals before anyone else in the room. Cause people are able to see your track record. When you come to a place like you don't know anyone else's track record, but these people that are established, they've been running the meetup for a little while. You tend to trust them. You tend to believe that they can close. And so if you're asking, should I attend meetups? Yeah. Maybe not. Maybe not attend. But if you're asking, if you should host a meetup, like run it, be the organizer. You're going to get massive, massive value. I look at our group, it's a, it was a lunch club. I mean, it's still a lunch club, but now we, it's corona virus. And we don't have lunch during lunch club cause we're a virtual, but we started out just meeting at lunch and I never imagined how many people would be able to come to one of these. But we got up, up to a hundred plus every single week, 176 at the top. And those people are rarely doing as many deals with each other as they are doing deals with me. That's why I've been able to raise 4.2 that I can solidly say came directly from as a result of my lunch club. So yeah, let's just differentiate this in our minds. There is a complete difference. You can either attend or you can host and you'll get the value when you host a meetup.

Chris Miles (13:44): And that sounds like a lot of work. Do you think it's like a massive amount of work? Do you think it would be simplified?

Adam Adams (13:49): It's in general, a lot of work and a lot of people say it's a lot of work, but because you asked that question, I can share really good tool that has helped me to be able to simplify it. So in 2018, the same year that meetup HQ flew me out to speak. That year I hosted over 220 meetups, 220, like it was four or five or six every single week. And it was a part time job for my assistant and a part time job for me. So there was a lot of work to host 220, but what we found, what we learned halfway through that year is how to really solidly make it easy on us.

Adam Adams (14:36): So here's the tip trick and strategy. Grab some type of Excel spreadsheet and you're going to have the horizontals and the verticals at the same time. Right. And so what you'll, what you want to do is first you're going to book, you're going to block out your calendar. Let's just pretend like you're not going to go 200. Let's just do, let's just pretend like you're going to do 52 and you can do 12 if you want, but let's just pretend you're going to do 52. Every single week, always on Thursday or something like that. What you'll do is you'll actually start writing out the dates. Thursday, January 5th, Thursday, January 12th. And you just keep going. And so now you've blocked out the dates. The second part you do is you block out the venue. So you figure out, you start thinking ahead of time, what venues will I want to be at this year?

Adam Adams (15:29): So if you pick, if you have four venues, you'll call all of them. And you'll say I have 13 different places that I need to come and visit you this year. And I want to block all of them out all at one time. And you'll call the second one and block the other 13. The third one blocked the other 13. The next step you'll do is you'll start writing out the topics that you're going to want. Now I mentioned that I kind of go to four different events. I kind of, I do that on purpose. So, so I'm in the Denver area. So a quarter of what I do is it near Boulder. There's a lot of money in Boulder. A quarter of what I do is in another area, another and another, some of it is downtown Denver because I get the biggest amount of people to come to Denver.

Adam Adams (16:19): And so I'll kind of go all over, but I'll call that ahead of time. And so step, I think we're in step two. All we're doing is writing out the topics. So if I'm going to be in Boulder, I want my topics to be around. How do you invest in notes? Or how do you become a safe, private money lender? Because I want to attract people that have a lot of capital from Boulder to come out of the woodworks and say, this is for me because the, in Boulder, the billionaires are now currently kicking out the millionaires. That's kind of what's going on in Boulder. So, so that's what we'll do there. And then we'll do other things in, in like Denver. We'll do a lot of fix and flip workshops in Denver and et cetera. Now that I've have all 52 topics figured out, which actually is easier than you think.

Adam Adams (17:14): When you allow yourself 10 minutes to brain dump, you can get all 52 out. Well, that's what we do. And then once you've done that, then you select your speakers. Before they ever know. You've already got the date, the time, the topic. All figured out and you call your, and now you figure out the speakers. And then what I'm going to do is I'm going to call Chris Miles and I'm going to say, Chris, I have on July 3rd, I've got 52 events I'm hosting next year. And I've got an opening on July 3rd. And it's specifically for somebody who understands how to utilize a thing called a personal bank on yourself. How do you do infinite banking? And I have two or three people in mind, but you're really my favorite, Chris. And I wondered, do you think you could come on July 3rd to present this?

Adam Adams (18:07): Or should I call one of the other experts? Well, every single time you give that pitch, Chris Miles or whoever you're talking to is like, no, no, no, no, don't do it. I'll figure out how to get there on July 3rd. And so, you've solved a lot of time and attention and it's all out ready for you. And the second tip with this way to fill these out, you put them into meetup and you publish them, but there's a separate term for an actually announcing it to the list. So if you do 52 of these, you'll actually publish all of them in just one day. You'll easily be able to do that. But when you announce them, you announce them just a couple of weeks before. You'll announce every week you just click announce. That's all you gotta do. So your life is much easier later on. You create all the image cards ahead of time. So in about a week or two on the big end, if you're doing 52 of these next year. In about a week or two, you're done everything else is now on autopilot, except for you clicking that announce button once a week. That's all you have to do.

Chris Miles (19:26): That's a really useful system. I like that. So I see. Cause that's the big thing is always like, Oh, how do you come up with those topics? Or how do you come up with this or get the speakers? Like you said, but that's, I mean, that's like you said, you could have that all done by, well, if you do, at the end of the year, you can have it done before the beginning of the year even starts. Or even by first, you know, first of the new year. Right?

Adam Adams (19:45): Yeah. And it's super important to really point this out because if somebody's all, there's going to be a few people listening. They're like, I've already started a meetup. It was a lot of work. I couldn't keep up with it. It's because they're always behind the eight ball. They're always trying. Like every week they're like, crap. I got to do all this stuff. But if you do it in the beginning, you're always in front. You're always ahead of schedule. So if there's a listener, who's thinking about doing a meetup, it doesn't matter. You don't have to do 52! 52 works for me. I do. I like the weekly, but if you're listening and you just want to do 12, you could be done with this in a day. You could be completely finished with everything in one day. And then it's just clicking the announced button once a month. That's it.

Chris Miles (20:31): I love it! Now let me ask you like what, so why were you asked to speak of that conference? I mean, obviously like you get meet up. You do a great job, but what were the, you know, you mentioned there's four things that they said was a big reason why they picked you over so many other speakers. What was that?

Adam Adams (20:46): Oh, so here I was. At the sixth floor of meetup is where all of the nerdy engineers are. And for some reason I'm intrigued by nerdy engineers. I love hearing people that really think about things like into detail about things. And so I had this awesome conversation. It was me, the I'm, I am kind of nerdy, but I'm not really an engineer brain. My dad was, but here I was sitting there with about 10 other engineers. We were in a circle and all of a sudden, out of nowhere, I just, I gulped and I was afraid to ask this question, but I did anyway. I just go, Hey guys, I don't know how to ask this. But like, there was a few people that didn't get on stage and they have a lot more members than I do. I only had 1300 members in my meetup group. And there was some people that had like 20,000 members and you didn't ask them to speak.

Adam Adams (21:48): So like, what was the whole thing? What gives? Why me? And they said, here's the main things. Number one, Consistency. And so if you don't know when you're going to meet again, if you do this sporadically, it actually hits the meetup algorithm. And it ranks you lower. So fewer people see that you even have a meetup. And so, because you had the whole year planned out ahead of time, we knew that you're being consistent. We can see that you've never, ever, ever, ever canceled a meetup. And your meetup attendees know what to expect. So this turns your meetup group into one of the only meetup groups in the country. At least, I don't know how many there are in the world, but we were the only one in Colorado. And one of three in the whole country, two of them actually are in New York city, by the way, which is where the meetup HQ is.

Adam Adams (22:50): We were one of three they're called super groups. It's called a super group, which comes from that consistency. The second thing that they said was that the, I have the same members continue to come back over and over and over again. I actually have a sales pitch that I use during every meetup that I share with my attendees. I call it a sales pitch, you know, jokingly. But it it's the words that I use every single time that allowed me to have people keep coming back and back and back. So when we were doing, let's say we're meeting weekly. Okay. And I say to the people, Hey, we're going to be in Boulder every single Thursday, just so you know. And there's a lot of great meetups out there. And I encourage you to go to some of them, for sure, because you're going to be able to meet more people.

Adam Adams (23:44): But if you want to meet people that you actually do deals with, I looked up some psychology and it says, it takes about six to 15. This is the normal range for you to meet somebody in person before you start trusting them enough to actually do deals with them. And so that's why I meet, I have this group meet every single week because when you go to one of those other groups and if you go one month and then you try to go the next month, and then you're like, I still haven't even done a deal with somebody. And so you start falling off. And so like, that's what happens a lot and I want to solve that problem. So that's why I do it this way. And that's why a lot of the people that come here you'll see them coming every single week because they want to start doing deals with each other.

Adam Adams (24:37): So that was my sales pitch. That was how I shared with them, that it was important that they came every week and they did. And they showed me some stats. It's been a couple of years obviously, but they showed me some stats. And I was one of the top in the whole world on having the same people show up time and time again. Let me think of who, what was the third one. The third one that they shared with me is that, Oh, my Ratings and Reviews. And I was number two in the whole world with the most amount of ratings and reviews we had over 600, five star ratings and no four stars or lower. And they said that that was a big deal. Well, the trick is we were meeting pretty frequently. We meet a lot. And so if one person a day does this, I mean, we're done in a couple of years, but I used to ask for it when I was asking for it.

Adam Adams (25:35): I had no idea that this was part of meetups algorithm. I had no idea that I was going to be sitting with 10 engineers at the sixth floor of meetup learning that I was doing it right. But I just said, Hey, it's what I would say to my people is at the end of the event, I would say, Hey guys, there's going to be an email that comes out to you. It's going to ask how you liked it. Just be honest, let them know, you know, if it was one star or five star, just, just be honest. If you feel like you really got value today, that's all I would say at the end, I would just say, there's going to be an email. Just be honest. It doesn't matter if it's a one or a five star. And I just kept getting a ton of five stars.

Adam Adams (26:13): Like the same people would be able to rate the meetup multiple times because they don't rate the meetup itself. They rate the event. And so we had a lot of them. And so we had a huge amount of five star ratings. I think that's enough. I can't remember the fourth one right now, but if you are consistent and you ask for reviews and whatever, let them know, keep coming. You're going to hit into meetups algorithms. So it's not, now, it's no longer just you promoting it. Now it's meetup promoting it.

Chris Miles (26:54): And eventually that's not much different than any other thing. Whether it's be like social media, you know, or whatever it might be. It's kind of the same thing, isn't it?

Adam Adams (27:01): Yeah, exactly.

Chris Miles (27:02): It's about that engagement and that consistency, you know, and not giving up. That's, I love it, man. That's some really useful stuff. Like I know we can go on for hours on marketing because really it's, it can take hours literally to learn and master some of those things. But man, I mean just taking some of these nuggets and whatever, however you apply, whether you apply it to meetups, real estate or even with your own business, this is a, I think this is just gold right now. It's a huge gold mine. So Adam, I appreciate that so much.

Adam Adams (27:31): Thank you for having me.

Chris Miles (27:32): You bet. Hey, if they want to follow you and get to know your stuff better, what would you recommend?

Adam Adams (27:38): RaisingMoneyCoach.Com. Great place to find me. RaisingMoneyCoach.com.

Chris Miles (27:43): RaisingMoneyCoach.com Awesome! We'll put that in the show notes for everybody to check out. Adam it's extremely valuable and I know, I follow you as well. So I know your stuff is great. I see you as an influencer in my life. So everybody else, I recommend you follow Adam Triple A. Triple A Adams as well. So Hey Adam, I appreciate your time and appreciate your value.

Adam Adams (28:03): Thank you!

Chris Miles (28:04): And everybody else. Thank you so much for joining us today. Again, it's about action. The action you take is what creates the results in your life. It's one thing to be a listener of this show. But it's another thing to be the doer of the word too. So guys go out and do it. Make it a wonderful and prosperous week. We'll see you later.

#Anti-financial Advisor #Cash flow #Cash flow Expert #Debts #Entrepreneur #Financial Freedom #Money Ripples

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livingmybestfakelife · 4 years

Text

Gospel Truth

Summary: You finally break Tommy after showing your true colors

inspired by the song Gospel Truth by Joseph J. Jones

gifs by @mistress-gif

When you woke up this morning it was freezing, it gave you a good boost to get out of bed and get on with your morning routine before heading out to work. You couldn’t wait to speak to Thomas about what had occurred last night, you weren’t there to witness the commotion but your daughter had vented to you about it, tears falling out of her big beautiful eyes that she inherited from you, she could hardly get any words out because she was so upset, her father had embarrassed her in front of a very important man that could be of importance to her future, one that even though had a clean record, was known to be respectful and trustworthy, Tommy just didn’t trust around his only child.

It took everything in you to not go up to his room and give him a good chewing out for doing what he promised you he wouldn’t do. But the house of full of guests wardering about, surely one of them would be nosey enough to put their ear up against the door to listen in, and last thing your baby girl neeeded was more embarrassment, so you decided to leave it alone...for the time being. Today was a big day, Selena would be leaving for university this afternoon so you and Tommy would be sending her on her way at the train station, but before all of that you both headed to work, he had left an hour before you did, you were also early so the office was empty except for the both of you, perfect, no one around to listen to you two bicker.

Your footsteps could be heard all the way in his office, he for some reason recognized your footsteps, “it has a certain rhythm” he once told you, you never understood that, it didn’t sound any different from any other woman, but he insisted that it was different, he just knew you way too well to misktake it for anyone else’s. It was unusual but it was him, he sighed and gulped down the rest of his whiskey before straightening up in his seat, preparing for your wrath he already knew was coming. As you entered the room he was hit in the face by a whisk of air caused by the swing of the door, your glare making him feel colder, the only other women that he ever intimidated by was his mother and Polly, then came you.

You were fourteen years old but had a mouth on you like a grown man, always prepared for a debate, a fight and had enough stamina to outrun any authoritative figure that tried to chase you down. It would be cliche to say that you were different from any other girl Tommy has ever met but it was the truth, besides your bold and brass personality, you were also the only girl Tommy knew who was being raised by a single father, your mum passing on when you were only eight years old, your dad taught you how to defend yourself from a very early age, knowing all too well how boys and men would try to take advantage of a beautiful young lady like yourself. Your relationship with your dad was one that he was jealous of, his own father being a coward and walking out on his own family not too long ago, but here you were with one that could’ve easily given up, and abandon you like most of them did, not wanting to be bothered with a child all by themselves, or remarrying just for someone to keep up with the house, but he didn’t do that either, he loved your mother too damn much to move on, he had all he needed with you, it was you two against the world, and Tom only wished that his own pop valued him and his siblings the same way.

Your personality from who were as child to today never changed, when you wanted to get your point across you’d do it loudly and dramatically, how else would these stubborn men listen to you. You walked into his office and closed the door with your foot, marching to one of the chairs in front of his desk, as you sit down you move your collar down and expose your neck a little, just enough to show him your trophy from the night before, something that you liked to do to taunt him, the faint bruise on your neck caused by an admirer that you invited up to you bedroom late last night, making sure to sneak him out quickly after you were done with him. He balled up a fist then unclenched it and let out a heavy sigh.

“Why do you insist on pissing me off?”

“Why do you insist on breaking your promises?”

“If this is about last n-“

“Of course it is, you told me that you wouldn’t do this Thomas, I’m holding out my end of the deal and I expect you to do the same”

“Oh, right, you are doing that aren’t you? Fucking a different simp every other night in my house”

“Oh fuck off, like you don’t have women who warm your bed every night, I deserve a good fuck as well”

“YN”

He says your name in a warning tone, he knows how easy it is for you to push his buttons and he hates himself for always falling into your trap and making himself look crazy. But that’s what you always did to him, you make him fucking insane, because he never fully had you, and you never fully gave your heart to him, your deepest secrets he had to learn from the grapevine, meanwhile he was spilling it all out for you, he’s done every he could think of to get you to understand how deep his love ran for you, he’s sacrificed, stole, lied and killed for you, one time right in front of you. Even after all of that, you still didn’t fully commit to him emotionally, sure you married him, but it still wasn’t enough, he didn’t feel anything on your end, now he understood how Lizzie and so many other of his “girlfriends” he had felt, to be willing to give anything just for a “I love you” but only getting crumbs in return.

“Look, as I said, I’m holding up my end of the deal, I agreed to move back in here for as long as you pay for Selena’s education, which is fucking insane”

“What’s so insane about it Yn? We both know that she isn’t mine”

“Thomas!”

“Well she isn’t, not biologically at least...listen to me, look I don’t mean to sound so cold alright, I love Selena like she was mine, hell I adopted her didn’t I? Gave her my last name, but...I”

“Wow, you’re so sad, the big tough Thomas Shelby having the nerve to call other men simps when he’s the biggest one of them all, too blind to see that I’ve been using you for security all these years, I mean men hell, might as well take advantage right, it’s not like you were getting the hint, you took me in when I was already seven months pregnant with another mans baby, a man you knew you couldn’t compete with because he had something you didn’t, and that was me, I actually had some feelings for the poor bastard and you couldn’t handle that, it tore you up didn’t it? That I was having his baby and not yours, that we were so close to getting married...well luckily for you he died in that club fire, then you had a chance to swoop me in, not that I could put up much of a fight, I was twenty one with no man to help me raise my child, you were my meal ticket Tom, my simpy little meal ticket-“

You cut yourself off when all of a sudden he pulled out his gun and shot it into the ceiling, his eyes were wide and dark, the dark circles under them making him look more like a mad man, for the first time in all your years of knowing him you were afraid of him, you had finally broke him after slowly chipping away at his heart, your rant breaking it apart completely, he felt nothing but anger and betrayal, you’ve played with him for too long, and now...well that hole in the ceiling tells you all you need to know. He lowers the gun and walks closer to you, you back away as far as you can only for him to grab your arm, pulling you up against his chest.

“Tommy, please”

“You’re begging, since when do you beg, that’s for dogs remember?”

“I’m- I’m s-sorry, I didn’t mean it”

“Course you did, because it’s true, you played me like an instrument and I let you...because I love you”

“Y-you didn’t deserve it”

“I didn’t get what I deserved I got what I took, I took whatever I could get from you”

You reach over to take the gun from him and put the safety on, not trusting him with it for the moment, he’s breathing hard and beginning to sweat around his forehead, you wipe it away before kissing it, he melted at your comfort, even if it was your way of taming the beast he was being right now, your kisses and caresses were always warm.

There was a knock on the door that startled you out of the moment, you straightened him out before shoving his gun in your purse

“Come in”

The door opens to Selena walking in with a big smile on her face, she’s wear her brand new dress she purchased yesterday just for this day, wanting to make a good impression on the new people she would meet at school.

“Sorry if I’m interrupting something, but I was just coming by to pick up my last check”

You smiled at her and walked over to his desk to pick up her check that you knew was already written out and signed, he had it prepared for her every Friday.

“Here you go baby, we’re gonna miss you here, especially your dad, you’re the best assistant he’s ever had and will ever get”

“Oh, I know”

She gives him a wink earning her a chuckle from, he reaches out to give her a big hug, the two of them being just as close as you were with your own dad, the both of you never told her about his adoption of her, and you’re not sure you ever would, maybe one day she’ll find out on her own, either way it wouldn’t change their relationship, she’s the only father she’s ever known.

“Okay, I just finished packing, I still have some things to do before I leave, I’ll meet you at Esmeralda’s Place for lunch and then we can head on to the train station, sound like a plan?”

“Sure, darling, it’s a plan”

He gives her a kiss on the cheek before she excitedly leaves the office with her check that would end up leaving her even more in glee once she see’s that he’d given her a three hundred pound bonus, he’s too good to her, always giving her more than you’ve ever asked of him, it made your guilt tear your heart and stomach apart, you would have to spend an extra half hour in church on Sunday begging for forgiveness.

At the moment you didn’t have anything to say, deciding to leave things where they were you went to leave, but not before he spoken up.

“We’re not done here YN, cancel your plans for tonight, we have a lot to talk about”

And by talk he means have dinner and then fuck, it’s how you settled almost all of your issues with each other, so his threatning tone had no effect on you.

“Of course Tommy, whatever you say”

You go to give him a soft peck on the cheek then leave to head to your own office, luckily Polly was just coming in, the awkwardness finally exiting the office building.

“Morning Aunt Polly”

“Morning honey...everything alright?”

“Fine, Selena going away is just making me a bit depressed is all, she grew up too fast”

“Yeah she did, don’t worry darling you’ll see each other again before you know it”

She pats your shoulder and walks to her office, you were glad that a tear that was about to fall from your eyes dropped after she walked away, the last thing you wanted to do was keep her from her work over the count of your emotions, you would need to toughen up a little more now, and keep your guard up more often, Tommy was no longer manipulable.

#tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders

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herohotline · 4 years

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Cameras and a Thousand Eyes on You

Aizawa / OC (platonic)

Commission from @fruitloooops!

Summary: Klaus Watabi is the son of Aizawa, but that’s not the only thing he’s hiding from the public. It’s during the school festival that hundreds of people see something that, realistically, Klaus never wanted them to see.

Word Count: 3,500+

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The whole school has been bustling with excitement lately- the halls are filled with talk and chatter, and the teacher’s never seem to get a break from their seemingly endless energy. Why?

Because the Sports Festival was coming up, of course!

The hero class of 1-A was especially excited. This was the perfect opportunity for all of them to show off their quirks and the hard work they put into them. It was hard not to notice the change of energy in the classroom and the serious aura all the students carried all of a sudden.

Aizawa was proud of them, though he didn’t typically say such a thing out loud. Praise from him didn’t come unless it was well earned, and exceeding the man’s expectations was a heavy task. But he could see his student’s working hard, and he was glad.

And, despite everything, he was kind of looking forward to it... Then the incident at U.S.J happened.

That… was obviously not something anyone was expecting. No one could have predicted the League of Villains would somehow sneak past their heavy security and attack the students- and a lack of preparedness led to heavy injuries with both the students and the teachers. Aizawa, specifically.

He’ll never forget how coldly Klaus had looked at him as he lied on the hospital bed. It wasn’t out of malice- Klaus was like him. He didn’t really know how to properly express his concern, so instead, he just grew silent and stony. It took a long time for Aizawa to open him back up and reassure him that he was fine- that this was his job, and if Klaus wanted the same future, he’d have to put his chin up and get used to it.

Aizawa is unsurprisingly a stern father, but Klaus is a stern son in return. It, fortunately, evens out.

The students, due to Aizawa’s request, don’t know about their relations. It wasn’t very hard to figure out they may be family, due to their similar looks and quirk, but Klaus and Aizawa had agreed to deny any suspicions that they’re father and son. It was both for Klaus’s safety, especially now with the information that the League of Villains were targeting U.A, and for the pro-hero’s privacy.

Also, he just really didn’t want the inevitable jokes and prodding from his students if they ever knew. And Aizawa is sure that Klaus doesn’t want that, either.

Besides all that- The Sports Festival. There was still a lot of work to be done, and a lot of practicing and training the students had to go through before they were ready to show off their skills. Aizawa knows that, Klaus knows that, and the students know that.

So they keep moving forward, despite the attack, and they keep working hard. And, truthfully, even though Aizawa is wrapped in bandages and his entire body aches, he still couldn’t be prouder.

---

“Your form is sloppy. Again.”

Klaus groans, his body feeling heavy and sore as he lies on the gym floor. Slowly, he heaves his upper body up, grabbing his knees as he breathes heavily. He looks up to where Kirishima stands with a sheepish look on his face.

“Sorry,” he laughs, and Klaus snorts.

“No you’re not,” he picks himself up off the floor, dusting off his clothes before getting back into his stance. Legs apart, knees locked. A deep breath in- “I’ll get you this time.”

“I’ll believe it when I see it,” Kirishima hardens up his body again.

From the sidelines, Aizawa huffs. “Begin,” he instructs, and both of the boy’s grin.

They pounce.

Klaus, given that his quirk was just like Aizawa’s except a bit stronger because he’s a new generation, learned early on to depend more on his fighting style than his quirk. He easily slides out of the way from one of Kirishima’s rock hard punches, dipping low and bringing his fist toward the boy’s stomach. He enforces his quirk on Kirishima right at that moment so his fist meets flesh instead of hard rock, and the force sends Kirishima back as he coughs.

Klaus doesn’t relent. Kirishima’s defenses lowered, he keeps his eyes on the red-haired hero as he kicks his shin and sends him to the ground. Quickly he moves atop of him, and the boys begin to wrestle and roll on the ground until Klaus loses his focus and Kirishima hardens again, quickly shoving the boy off him and then standing up again, Klaus scrambling to follow suit.

There’s not a moment to waste. Klaus has to avoid the discomfort in his eyes as he blocks one of Kirishima’s punches and moves out of the way just in time before he gets kicked to the ground. Klaus is on the defensive now, which isn’t good, because it means he constantly has to keep his eyes on Kirishima so the boy doesn’t activate his quirk and stab Klaus with his rocky edges. Keeping the boy soft and vulnerable is the priority, but even without his rocky armor, Kirishima is tough and unrelenting, and Klaus’s eyes are getting increasingly itchier.

Eventually, Klaus is once again sent tumbling across the gym floor, and Aizawa blows his whistle.

“Better,” he comments dryly, “but you both went in hard and lost stamina too quickly. Kirishima, you had to surround Watabi because if he got you on the ground again, he would have won.”

Klaus sits up from his spot on the ground and Kirishima hangs his head low, scratching behind his neck. “Yeah…”

“Watabi,” Aizawa sighs, “you let Kirishima get the advantage, again. You need to act and think quicker,” he taps his temple as he speaks, “you and I are at a disadvantage, so we always need to think ahead with strength quirks. Predict and assess where the enemy will go and what he will do next.”

Along with Kirishima, Klaus hangs his head. “Yes, sir…”

“That will be enough today. Remember what I told you and record what happened in your training today somewhere so you come back tomorrow smarter than you were today.” It’s solid advice, but when it’s delivered with Aizawa’s tone, it always sounds harsher than it should. Both of the boys sigh as Aizawa claps his hands, signaling the end of their session.

Kirishima walks over to Klaus, extending a hand for him to take and keep him steady as he helps lift the boy off the ground. “Good job, bro,” the boy easily smiles and Klaus chuckles. “You really did almost get me today!”

“Almost,” Klaus clicks his tongue. “Not the same as actually getting you, though.” He walks with Kirishima to their bags, both of them grabbing their respective things before they start to head out of the gym after giving a small wave toward their teacher as they head toward the dorms.

“You move so quickly, and you’re kinda smarter than me with tactics and all that, so it’s really only a matter of time.” Jokingly, Kirishima flexes his muscles and Klaus rolls his eyes. “My only advantage is these sweet muscles of mine!”

“I should try to work out more,” Klaus comments. “You wouldn’t have any advantages if I was bulky like you.”

“But if you were bulky like me, you wouldn’t be able to slip around and sneak as easily as you do. There’s an advantage to everything.”

“You’re not wrong, but still, strength is hard to beat.”

“You don’t have to be super muscley to be strong!”

“Again, true, but muscles can also be threatening too, right? If you see a big muscley dude as an enemy, it makes you nervous, right?”

“Same way the other way around! If you go against someone like Aizawa, there are no physical signs that he can whoop your ass so easily, so it’s a great way to catch someone off guard!”

Klaus and Kirishima continue to chatter back and forth as they walk to the dorms. In Klaus’s opinion, Kirishima has always been a good friend and easy to talk to. The boy isn’t as walled up as his dad is, so he’s made some good friends in class, but he's still a bit awkward compared to the rest of them, and a bit cold at times.

But Kirishima was always sort of numb to that sort of thing if his friendship with Bakugo said anything. So he was an easy friend, and a great training partner, too.

Once they reach the dorms, Klaus is keenly aware of how gross the sticky sweat feels on his clothes and skin. Kirishima offers to keep hanging out on the first floor, but Klaus quickly shakes his head at the offer- making the red-head laugh loudly as he comments that Klaus really does stink so he should shower. Klaus shoves him a bit for his comment and just bids him goodnight as he heads up to his dorm.

There’s technically a bath and shower room for them on the first floor, but Klaus sticks to the private shower stall in his bathroom. No one’s ever asked why, which is unreasonably lucky, considering how nosy all of his classmates are.

In the privacy of his room, Klaus removes his shirt and flops down on his bed, letting his sore muscles relax as his hands wander to the scars below his pectorals and he tenderly rubs them with his fingers. Being admittedly young and getting surgery done on your chest was taxing, especially since Klaus and Aizawa were in a rush to get it done and have him recovered before his first year with U.A started.

But that was kind of far fetched. Klaus was still too sensitive and sore to begin class when it started, but thanks to his father being a teacher and the understanding of the principal, he was able to join in around a month later when he was physically capable of all the activities U.A has you go through in order to become a hero. His body is fully healed now, but sometimes his chest still burns from all the stress, and he finds himself needing to rest so the painful throb slowly ebbs away.

Truthfully, Klaus is looking forward to the Sports Festival, just like everyone else. It’s not only a chance to prove his abilities to the world of heroes, but to his father as well. The boy sits up with a sigh, a hand moving his messy black hair out of his face before he stands and heads towards the shower stall in his room.

He has an uncomfortable feeling that something will go wrong. It’s just anxiety, but Klaus has too much of it sometimes. He wonders what people will do or say if they ever figured out about Klaus- the thought makes his throat dry, but he tries to always shove those anxieties to the side. So what if people figured out? He’s… Klaus is still a hero. That’s all that matters.

But as the boy showers, he still can’t help but feel anxious.

---

“This is it.”

“This is it! Are you ready?!”

“This is it!!!!”

As said many times before- this is it. The first day for the Sports Festival has officially arrived, and what a blast it was. It was full of unique people from unique places, and unique challenges which were admittedly difficult to finish. The Calvary Battle was honestly the most stressful part, though more for Midoriya than for Klaus.

But now that the pre-games are out of the way, it was time for the tournament. The thing everyone was waiting for- the chance to battle, one on one, and climb your way to being the ‘winner’ of the Festival.

More importantly than that, having people witness your quirk and wanting to give you an internship, and possibly sponsor your career in the future. That’s what it was really about.

“This is it! This is it!”

Midoriya and Uraraka continued to cheer from their corner in the waiting room, hyping each other up as they bounced on their heels and clapped their hands together. Klaus thought it was a bit annoying, honestly, but to each their own.

He was kind of just hoping the whole thing didn’t end up horribly and that he wouldn’t embarrass himself out there.

On the leaderboard, his first fight was with Mina. He definitely thinks the fight will be a well-fought one, and if he gets his head together, Klaus can definitely win. He just needs to do as Aizawa instructed-

Think ahead, predict what she’ll do. Mina has always been pretty bubbly and charismatic, but unfortunately predictable. She’s smart, though. She knows Klaus just as much as Klaus knows her, so she’ll know that Klaus will try to trick her in some way. They’ll both have their guards up.

Time passes like a blur. Each battle is admittedly interesting and full of tension- that Shinsou boy who had introduced himself to their class earlier was certainly eye-catching, specifically to Klaus, and no doubt his father as well. A fellow hero unfortunately suppressed by U.A’s system and their requirement for a stronger, faster quirk.

Then there was that girl with the pink hair, who basically used your classmate as an advertisement, which was actually kind of funny, but Klaus wouldn’t tell Iida that he laughed. Several more battles passed along with that, including Uraraka and Bakugo having one of the more tense battles that Klaus has seen that spoke to him on an oddly personal level- but again, it’s not like he’d say that to anybody.

Eventually, it was his turn, and he wouldn’t tell anybody that he was practically shaking with the nerves that coursed through him like sharp wires.

His name is introduced by a very passionate and excited Hizashi- something that was oddly nice. At least he knows that the people watching him from above are people who care about how this all ends. They care about the outcome.

Mina stands on the other side of the field as the rules are once again reiterated to them, and Klaus readies his stance. Mina smiles at him, bright and beaming from her side of the field.

It all comes to this.

They begin.

Mina moves first, fluid and fast. Klaus keeps his feet planted on the ground, letting the girl come to him, letting her use her quirk- for now. He can tell she’s confused by his decision, but she doesn’t stop, continuing to keep run toward him with an arm outstretched, until finally, he moves.

He’s quick.

Klaus’s black hair is singed by Mina’s acid, a consequence of letting her come so close. He ducks and swerves out of the way, quick feet positioning him behind her as he moves to kick her down.

Mina quickly turns, her body ready to send out more acid, but it doesn’t come.

Klaus’s eyes are red.

Mina is admittedly fast and flexible, meaning Klaus is only mildly surprised by how she manages to flip back a considerable distance away from him before he can knock her down, but she’s closer to the edge of the field now.

He rushes forward, and Mina does the same.

Hizashi makes colorful commentary as they fight, but he doesn’t absorb any of it as he focuses on the fight. Klaus knows that close-combat isn’t his strength, but there weren’t any other options in this situation. He can’t out-power Mina, so he has to get close enough to eventually push her over the edge.

That’s his best chance at winning and proceeding forward.

Klaus receives several blows- to his face, his torso, and he’s been knocked down to the floor more times than he’d like to admit, but he’s faring pretty well. He’s put some considerable damage on Mina too, and she’s still uncomfortably close to the edge. He sees her heavy breathing when she flips away from him again, and he takes this as his chance.

Not giving her a moment to retaliate, Klaus dashes toward her again. Adrenaline is what causes him to wrap his arms around his classmate and send her flying over his shoulder- a move similar to what Midoriya pulled earlier.

As Mina yelps in surprise, she clings to him as much as she can, but she can’t stop herself from hitting the ground. In the heat of the moment, he loses his control over the girl’s quirk and he can’t stop the scream that leaves him as acid leaves her fingers and burns through his clothes.

Mina’s back hits the ground with a harsh thud. Her body is officially out of the field- Klaus is the winner, and the announcement is made loudly through the speakers. Despite all that, Klaus can’t stop staring down at Mina and Mina can’t stop staring up at him.

His shirt is officially burned and nothing but scraps on his shoulders, and his skin is an irritated, flashing pink from the acid that hit him. Despite all of that, though, his heart races harder than he thinks is safe, and he can’t even feel the burning.

In a flash, his wide eyes look away from Mina and toward the several cameras that surround him. He sees himself on the big screen, but what’s on-screen doesn’t even look like him.

It’s a scared little boy with burnt hair, bruises and burns scattered everywhere on pale skin, but they don’t speak as loudly as the humiliating scars on his chest. The area is way too quiet for his liking as the cameras continue to stare.

That’s not me. I swear that’s not me, Klaus thinks.

“Klaus?” Mina is still below him, propping herself up with her hands. That seems to snap the boy out of his trance.

“I-” Klaus begins, but his throat is tight. He looks at the cameras again, and something in him snaps.

Midnight was coming to declare his victory, but his feet are on the move and run right past her as he suddenly dashes away from the arena. The crowd goes wild, their voices loud and booming, but he doesn’t stop running.

Everyone saw, everyone knows, everyone saw- they saw they saw-

Klaus knew something bad was going to happen today. He knew it- so he should have been more careful! He should have kept his eyes on Mina, he shouldn’t have given her the chance, let her get so close-

“Klaus.”

A hand shoots out in front of him suddenly, stopping the boy from his panicked running as he looks up and sees the bandaged up mess that is his father. It confuses him to see Aizawa down here- not up there, where Klaus was sure he was- with Hizashi-

“Come.” It’s not a question because Aizawa’s arm is already wrapped around the boy as he urgently leads them down the hall, around a corner, and then into a secluded room where the sound of a lock clicks.

They’re alone now, but it doesn’t feel much better. Not really. Nothing feels private anymore after Klaus’s one big secret was put on stage for everyone to see.

Klaus can’t help it as the first tear leaves, then the sob after that, and then how his body shakes and quivers as if he’s dying from a cold. It’s even more humiliating- breaking down in front of his dad like this. He should be stronger than this.

Despite that, Aizawa’s arms wrap around the boy, holding him securely against his chest.

“They all saw- they saw-” Klaus sobs, his arms held tightly against his naked torso. The scars burn and flare brightly as he presses down on them harshly.

Aizawa lets out a deep, steady breath. “They did,” he doesn’t deny. “They also saw you win. I’m impressed, Klaus. You did a good job.”

“You’re lying,” Klaus shakes his head against his father’s chest as he hiccups. One of Aizawa’s hands leaves his back and goes to his hair, petting gently. “I did awful- no one- no one’s ever going to- going-”

Klaus quits trying to speak. He’s like a broken record, barely able to get out his angry, upset words with how much he’s sobbing. He stops, and instead just lets himself be held by his father with affectionate hands that are essentially a rarity.

“You did well,” Aizawa speaks. “You surprised everyone with your tactics and strategic thinking. It wasn’t comfortable or ideal to let Mina so close to you, because it gives her the advantage, but you knew you needed to do it to win. And you won. You were smart, Klaus.”

He doesn’t feel smart.

“I know it’s difficult. I can ask Midnight and Hizashi to cut it out of the broadcasts, and I’ll talk to the students.”

Klaus shakes his head. The words he wants to say are lodged in his throat, not yet able to escape. Aizawa lets him get a handle on his breathing, not saying anything else until eventually Klaus takes a shaky breath and steps away from his father’s hold. He uses his hand to wipe away his tears and snot as he sniffs and looks at the floor.

“...I’ll tell them. I- I can do it. Because I still,” his fist clenches stubbornly, “I still won. And I’m- I’m going to be a hero! Just like the rest of them!”

Aizawa smiles, big and wide in a way that’s usually scary, but it’s endearing as he smiles now and raises a hand to rifle through Klaus’s hair. “You’re right. And you need a haircut.”

Klaus snorts. “...yeah, she got me pretty bad.”

“Here’s this, by the way.” From seemingly out of nowhere, the pro-hero hands Klaus a brand new uniform shirt. He probably grabbed it on his way down to find Klaus. The boy mutters a small thanks as he takes it, pulling it over his head and down his waist. “You’re going to be alright, kid.” Aizawa says. “I’ll make sure of it.”

“...Thanks,” Klaus sniffs again. “We’re never gonna talk about how I cried on you ever again.”

Again, Aizawa smiles. “Good. You know I hate mushy stuff,” he turns and opens the door and Klaus follows him out. “Gonna need a new suit to get rid of all your gross teenage snot.”

“Your outfit is dumb anyway. Get a completely new design while you’re at it.”

“It’s not dumb, it’s practical. And comfortable.”

“I guess,” Klaus rolls his eyes, and subconsciously, his arms cross over his chest as they walk down the halls together. “At least it’s better than wearing something skintight like Kayama.”

“She’s tried to convince me to do that thousands of times,” like father, like son, because he rolls his eyes too. Eventually, they reach a staircase and Aizawa stops in his tracks. It doesn’t take much for Klaus to put together that he needs to go back to Hizashi and finish his job. “...Are you going to be okay?” He asks, quietly. “I can see if Toshi would like to be an announcer instead. It’d be my pleasure.” That’s not a lie- Klaus knows his dad hates that he was stuck with Hizashi up there. So he grins and shakes his head.

“...I’ll be fine. Go have a blast up there, old man. Watch me win the next one.”

Aizawa groans. “Of course you wouldn’t give me an out, huh?”

“Never.”

Klaus will be okay. It’s admittedly very scary going back into the waiting room where all his classmates are- he knows they all saw the disaster that was his tournament match. But he’ll be fine. They’ll either be understanding, or they won’t. It would be a shame to learn if some of his classmates aren’t accepting, of course, but… it won’t change anything.

Whatever the outcome, it won’t stop Klaus from being a hero.

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buck-nialled · 4 years

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Camp Rock - M. Triplets Crossover AU (2)

I DO NOT OWN “CAMP ROCK”, ITS PLOTLINE, SONGS OR CHARACTERS. ALL RIGHTS GO TO DISNEY.

After her small release with the piano residing in the mess hall, Y/N returned to her shared cabin with her mom.

“There you are, sweetie.” Says Y/M/N, her eyes following the girl’s figure as she dug hurriedly through her duffel bag. “I’ve got the food set up, so you, princess, are free.”

“Gotta find something to wear,” she murmurs, hand sunken into the bag of clothes she had now deemed undesirable.

“Honey, it’s camp. It’s not a fashion show.” Her mother humors, leaning back against her headboard to flip through her magazine.

“Have you seen these kids?” Y/N asks, before reminding her, “they have a lot. My usual is not going to cut it.” She deduces and begins her strides towards her mother’s dresser.

“Awh, I think you look cute.” Her mother praises, earning a look from her daughter she received all too often. “In a non-mom way. Totally.” She adds with a serious face. Y/N’s head spins back to obtain a modest, teal button-up in her grasp.

“This.” She accentuates the shirt with a tug and places it against her front. “This is safe.” She places it nearby and continues pillaging, now placing a pair of her mother’s earrings into her ears.

“It’s also mine. Honey,” her mother laughs sadly, “wear your own clothes. You’ll be fine.” Y/M/N’s hand comes up and strokes her daughter’s hair. “Be yourself.” Y/N, at this point, was not paying attention to what her mother said, except for the compliment she received seconds later on the earrings. “Oh, those are pretty.” Her mother breathes, having Y/N giggle in accomplishment.

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“Hey, Lauren.” Y/N acknowledges her new friend, concluding her search of the building filled with eager campers.

“Hey, Y/N. This is Dua. Dua, Y/N.” Lauren introduces, cueing the two girls to share a quick wave and beaming smiles.

“So is this your first year here?” Dua asks, not recognizing the young girl from the previous years she has attended.

“Yeah. Any advice?” Y/N asks in hopes to receive affirmations and the oh-so-dreaded “have fun”.

“You’re going to love it here.” Not what Y/N was wanting. “But this year, I heard the food is supposed to be better.” Dua muses with a smile. Well, that information was certainly helpful, and would most likely be given to her mom later.

“Let’s hope.” Y/N mirrors her smile, before the bodies crowding the room turn their attention to musical director Dee.

“Alright Camp Rockers, let’s give a big Camp Rock welcome for…Dua Lipa!” She announces into the microphone held comfortably in her hand, pointing right at the trio’s cluster where Dua stood.

“Wish me luck.” Dua grins before departing the small conversation in exchange for the microphone being offered to her. The crowd cheers wildly, leaving no doubts in Y/N’s head that Dua was very much liked and respected here. While it seemed Hailey was as well, Y/N could not wrap her head around how both girls were so different.

Her performance was phenomenal, to say the least. Her voice flowed smoothly to the electronic/ hip-hop beat, and unlike Hailey when Y/N caught her practicing, Dua had fun doing it. Not only that, but she also made sure the crowd was having fun as if she were transferring waves of positive energy throughout the room and to those she was singing for.

“Wow! She’s amazing!” Y/N stood in awe for a few seconds after the girl finished her performance.

“Yeah, she should be. Her mom’s on broadway.” Lauren tells her.

“Broadway?” Y/N snaps her head, taking in the news with disbelief. “Wow…”

“Yeah, but the kids around here don’t care about that,” Lauren says, crossing her arms. “It’s all about the bling.” She rolls her eyes and maneuvers her body to face Hailey’s. Y/N copies her stance. “That’s why Hailey over there runs this camp.”

As if she sensed the cold stare against her back, the blonde turned and started a confident march over to Lauren and Y/N. “Great. Something wicked this way comes.” Lauren says lowly, but every part of Y/N felt frozen as she approached.

“Hey, Lauren. Your folks still wowing them on the cruise ship?” Hailey questions snootily, a bent arm on her cocked hip. Behind her, formed like an entourage (or maybe an army) was the two girls she was practicing the routine with the other day.

“Actually, they work in—” Lauren had begun to correct Hailey, but was cut short of her incredibly witty comeback.

“Hi, I’m Y/N.” The girl gives a small wave of her hand, while Lauren eyes her with furrowed brows.

“Hi. I’m Hailey Baldwin.” The blonde replies, having Y/N’s hopes grow that she would forget about her blunder made earlier that day. That is if she had not already done so.

“I know.” Her grin grows. “Wow, I love your dad.”

“Of course, you do,” Hailey replies, sounding satisfied by this information. Y/N then turns her attention to the entourage and gives the two girls a small smile.

“I’m Y/N Y/L/N.”

“Hey, is your dad Nicky Y/L/N, the composer? My dad staged one of his shows?” The boast did not seem intentional, in fact, her tone of voice was so sweet it could have been candy. Y/N only shook her head, mumbling a small “no.”

“So what does he do?” The other girl pressed, eyeing Y/N carefully.

“He owns a hardware store.” Then she saw Hailey’s feet begin to move, and the others reluctantly begin to follow. An alarm began blaring in her mind: WRONG ANSWER! The fine cocktail to impulsively lie was a fine mix of peer pressure and the girl remembering what Lauren told her earlier. It’s all about the bling.

“But my mom…” Y/N paused, eyes taking in the sight of all three girls halting and pivoting.

“Yeah?”

“What?”

Their curiosity provoked her conscience and resulted in her to poke and prod her brain for something glamorous, yet convincing.

“Uh, the president. Of Hot Tunez TV. In China.” She finished, eyeing the trio’s reaction. “Yeah, it’s a huge market over there.”

“Wow. Cool!”

“So cool.”

“Major cool.”

At this point, the payoff from the compliments felt way better than mowing over the consequences in her head. Y/N let out a breath of relief. “Okay, so have you met anybody?” The sweet girl asks, eyes wide and eager.

“Uh, yeah like everybody.” Y/N states in an obvious tone. “Last summer I was in, like, three music videos.” Bling acquired. “Yeah, but, I mean, you could hardly see me. I was in the back. Maybe it was all the crime shows she watched or the fact that she was one of the few “trusted” ones among her classmates back home which made it possible for the girl to cover her tracks so easily. Whatever it was, she felt no need to question it.

Hailey turns her head to peek at the entourage, asking them slowly. “Are you guys thinking what I’m thinking?”

“Of course!” The sweet girl exclaims, placing her chin in her hand.

“Absolutely,” the shorter one begins, before taking a pause. “What are we thinking?” She looks up to Hailey, who is gracing a sinister curve to her lips.

“There’s an extra bed in our cabin.” Y/N felt her smile grow. “It’s yours if you want it.”

“Really?” Her mouth dropped for a moment. Hailey shrugged.

“Totally. We’re gonna be great friends.” She loosely points a finger to the other side of the building. “Come on, sit with us in the VIP section.” And just like that, Hailey’s entourage now had three. Lauren now stood alone in the middle of the room, laughing sarcastically.

“I’m good. Thanks for asking.” The girl waves off the four figures disappearing from her view.

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Y/N enters her cabin and is greeted by the sight of her mother flipping impatiently through cookbooks. “Can you believe not one of these cookbooks has a recipe for chili for three hundred?” She inquires.

“You don’t need a recipe.” Y/N zips up her small duffel and reaches her mother at the table. “Everyone loves your food. It’s official.” Her mother looked up at her, eyes wide with glee.

“Really?”

Y/N held her hand up. “Camper’s honor.”

“So how was Opening Night Jam, did you sing?”

“No.” Y/N answers. I did lie about what you did for a living, though. “But I met some girls, and they want me to move into their cabin. And I know I have to help in the kitchen, but I’ll just get up earlier and meet you there—” Y/M/N hushes her rambling and assures her.

“Sweetie, of course, you can move into the cabin. It’ll be fine.” Y/N beams from her spot, duffel swung over her shoulder. “I got to get back to these cookbooks ‘cause I got a rep to protect.”

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Back in the girls’ cabin, each female sat on her respected bed. Selena was strumming a few soft chords on her guitar, trying to work out notes.

“Selena,” Hailey hissed from her own bed not too far away, “could you please stop that? I can’t hear.” She held her phone close to her ear, hearing the rings she had dreams about all because she heard them too often.

“Guys. Which color?” Julia asks, plopping herself down beside Selena with two bottles of nail polish in her hands.

“Julia,” Selena’s eyes flickered from the colors and to the girl’s eyes, “they’re exactly the same.”

“So you see my dilemma,” Julia says, being sure to drag on the last syllable of her sentence. A small gasp left Hailey’s mouth when a click was heard on the other end of the phone, and not the automated message telling her the mailbox was full. Again.

“Dad? Hey. Yeah, yeah I’m totally settled in. Guess what? Raul Mendes is…yeah. Yeah, you can totally call me back. Love you, too. Have a good shoot.” She powers her phone off, lowly sighing. “As usual.”

Julia glances up from her polish, a sympathetic expression lining her features. “What Tess?” The cabin door swings open to reveal Y/N entering, duffel over her shoulder.

“Hey, Y/N.” Julia greets. Selena pipes up behind her, sending the girl a quick “hey.” She was glad to finally know their names now.

“So…which bed is mine?” Y/N questions, eyes wandering around the cabin. The bed that Selena had situated herself on and occupied was pointed out by one of Hailey’s manicured nails a few moments after. “That one.” She clarified with a content smile.

“But I—”

“Peggy doesn’t mind.” Hailey laughs, before snapping her head to Selena and raising her eyebrows. She was testing her. “Do you?”

Selena bit her lip and tried a small laugh as she spoke. “I guess not.” She grabbed her guitar and wandered to the furthest bed in the cabin. Julia retreated to her own bed, leaving Y/N space on the comforter to place her duffel bag of clothes down.

“One bag?” Hailey asks. “You can’t possibly have all your clothes in there.” Y/N’s mouth fell open, trying to find an excuse. Why she needed one? She had no idea. But at this point, she appreciated this new image she had built for herself. What’s the harm in adding more to the story?

“Uh, right. Well, I threw a lot of my clothes away.” She says, beginning to unpack clothes to layout for tomorrow morning. She brings her arms up to cross them over her chest. “Yeah, I just got tired of them. Hailey’s nosey hand creeps its way into Y/N’s bag, uninvited, and retrieves a plaid article of clothing.

“And you kept this?” She held it up by only her fingertips as if it were a piece of garbage and tosses it to the side.

“Yeah, well, it came from China.” Y/N excuses. “A little boutique called Shing Sha Ji.” She nods, mouth in a firm line.

“Wow.” Selena awes.

“Totally wow.” Julia joins her, admiring the cloth now sat on the bed.

“What does that mean?” Inquires Selena.

“Happy Summer.” Y/N answers and feels an overwhelming ego boost as she does so. “Yeah, that store is the bomb.” Desperately wanting to change the subject from interrogating her wardrobe, the girl’s eyes catch a sparkle on Hailey’s golden bracelet.

“Wow! Really cool bracelet.” She pretends to admire the charms and the dazzle they embrace as Hailey lifts her wrist for the light to catch it.

“Thanks. It’s from my dad. Every time he wins an Oscar, he adds a charm.” Hailey brags. Y/N catches Selena glancing away and rolling her eyes in astonishment at her words.

“Love it.” Y/N compliments. “Totally blingalicious.”

A bright yellow journal catches Julia’s eye. Prying, she asks, “so is that your diary?” Protectively, Y/N’s hand reaches out to secure the book in her grasp before Julia could. Until she realized, Julia did not even flinch to take it. Was it only Hailey who snooped?

“No. My songs.”

“You write songs?” Hailey lightly tilts her head, face scrunching up in the slightest.

“Yeah, but they’re probably not that good.” Y/N states with a quick shake of her head. This has Julia rolling her eyes and saying a quick “come on” as encouragement.

“I bet they are good. Let’s hear one.” Selena declares. Without hesitating, Y/N bends her head down, holding the book securely against her chest.

“No…”

“Why not?” Suddenly, the same nails that held plaid plucked Y/N’s songbook away from her hands, cueing her heart to beat erratically. “We’re friends now, right?” She was afraid for Hailey to open it, read all of her deepest thoughts in scribbles, and note orders that Y/N herself was not even confident enough to peruse sometimes.

“Uh, okay…” The girl clears her throat, beginning to sing lightly with a trembling voice. She could not even make it through the entire chorus of her latest work, the one she found so freeing to belt out in the mess hall by herself. It ends abruptly and she begins to shake her head once more. “Yeah, it’s not…it’s really not that good.” She refuses. Julia and Selena however, had reactions opposite.

“What? That was totally good!” Selena squeaks, while Julia nods her head in agreement. “Right, Hailey?” Selena looks for further words of encouragement. The blonde gave Y/N an exaggerated smile, only replying with one word.

“Totally.”

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The ceaseless BRINGGG! Of Y/N’s alarm clock woke the girl up with a start. Rubbing at her eyes, her hand flies out upon coming to her senses, putting an end to the machine’s noise. Slowly, she grabbed her change of clothes and carefully retreated from her bed. However, she was still precarious and failed to remember the placement of the other beds. While walking backward from her own, she bumped into the side of Julia’s mattress, which resulted in jostling the sleeping girl’s body. Y/N clenched her teeth and held her breath as Julia’s eyes peeked open slightly.

“What the…Y/N?” She murmured, questioningly. Julia, still drowsy, did not question Y/N’s next move. She moved up closer to the head of the bed and whispered. “You’re dreaming. You’re a rock princess.” Julia hums, before slumping further into her mattress.

“Okay. I rock.” The sight of Julia slipping back into sleep with a smile was all the permission Y/N needed to exit the cabin and go change in a nearby outhouse.

For the next hour, Y/N helped set up breakfast behind the kitchen’s doors. Washing her hands for the final time that morning, she opened the front door to the kitchen and was surprised to see many campers already up and entering the cafeteria. Halting her steps, the girl withdrew her hold on the door and opted for the back door instead. She walked around the side of the building and spotted a large line of hungry campers forming. Y/N did well to camouflage herself amidst it and walked along with them.

“Hey! Plenty room over here, mi amore!” Brian, a boy whom she had met through Dua last night waved her over to a table occupied by him, Dua and Lauren.

“Yuck. You’re going to chase her away.” Dua sent Brian a disgusted look.

“As usual.” Adds Lauren, her, and Dua sharing grins. It is mirrored onto Y/N as she takes a seat next to Lauren at the table.

“Hey, guys.” She greets.

“Slumming it, I see,” Lauren comments, earning a puzzled glance from Y/N.

“What?”

“Hey, Y/N, over here,” Hailey calls as she passes behind her, with Selena and Julia hot on her tail. Y/N flicks her head to see the crew seating themselves at a different table. She turns back to Lauren.

“You better go. The queen awaits.” She mocks. As directed, Y/N stands up and pivots to start walking. Before she can, one of Lauren’s hands flies to her arm, grabbing her attention. “Your music. Are you any good?” She thinks back to last night. What she thought of herself. Then what Julia and Selena had to say. Hailey’s “totally” is still ringing in her head.

Y/N shrugs and glances over at the trio’s table with a large grin. “Uh, I don’t know. Maybe.”

“Word of advice: if you want to be friends with Hailey, don’t be.”

“Y/N!” Hailey yells out once more, nodding to their table.

Lauren’s words stunned the girl for a minute. It was an enigma on its own. One which made Y/N question Lauren’s validity, and, once again, Hailey’s “totally”.

“See you around,” Lauren says, returning to her breakfast while Y/N wanders over to her new seat.

“What happened to you this morning?” Hailey presses, voice demanding.

“Um…early riser.” Y/N says, eyes landing on the plate of toast sat in the middle of the table. “Yum! Toast!” She brings the golden-brown bread up to her mouth, taking a large bite to ensure her a few seconds free of Hailey’s interrogation.

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Andrew’s hands briskly stripped the comforter away and off of a snoozing Raul’s body, revealing the boy to be clad in only his boxers and wifebeater. The cool, morning air now projected onto his bare shoulders made him sit up, a glare already present on his face. “What?” He hisses. Andrew leans closer, placing his hands on the side of the mattress for support.

“Rise and shine, superstar.” He whispers to his nephew, who returns with a protesting growl. Raul turns his body over and buries his face into one of the pillows. Andrew stared at him in disdain, before his eyes flickered over to the vase of flowers on the nightstand.

“Don’t make me do this, Raul.”

“Go away,” the boy murmurs into his pillow. It reminds Andrew of the time Raul was a camper rather than an instructor. An image of a young boy, who woke up early and walked faster than Peter and Shawn to every class because he was just that eager to learn. Raul’s uncle stares down at the boy and wonders where it went downhill for Raul, and why. His pondering only lasts a quick moment, though, before his hand is wrapping around the neck of the vase and yanking the flowers from it by their stems. The water contained by the vase is empty’s onto Raul’s back and the sheets only seconds later.

“Ah! Hey!” Raul bellows, twisting his body to face Andrew once again. He holds out a questioning hand while droplets fall from the ends of his hair.

“Oh, sorry…don't say I didn’t warn you,” Andrew mumbles, placing the flowers back into the vase and the vase onto the nightstand.

“Fine, I’m up. Okay? I’m up.” Raul shivers in defeat.

“Oka, we’ve both got classes to teach. Yours starts in five.” Andrew points a threatening finger at Raul, basically telling him not to be late. As Andrew reaches the cabin’s door, he turns back around. “You might want to put that mattress out in the sun. It’s the only one you’re gonna get.” He says, continuing his walk out the door. Raul moans, his mind still foggy as he slumps back against the damp mattress.

Andrew finds himself doubling back, though. And in a few seconds, he is in Raul’s sight yet again, waving a finger at the nightstand. “Could you put some water in that vase? The flowers look parched.” He remarks, now starting his journey to his class, but not before yelling out to Raul, “four minutes!”

When Andrew entered the building, he began to grin at the sight of the campers clapping and stomping in unison. While some stayed in their seats, others got up to dance and shuffle about. He approached the lined seats, playing the best riff he could muster on an air guitar while he did so.

“Well if the class is a’rockin’ I’m a'glad I came knockin’!” He shouts. Some campers giggled at this and ended their Impromptu beat, taking their seats.

“So, let’s hear who I am working with this year.” He begins, eyeing the faces sat before him, both familiar and foreign. “Who wants to sing first?” In a split second, Andrew’s vision is filled with stiff arms raised high. It seems as though everybody seemed to be volunteering themselves…except one.

She was a spitting image of her mother. And though they have not formally introduced themselves, he believed Y/N’s mother when she crowed about her “incredible voice.” Contrary to somebody who might hold one, Y/N sunk further into her seat and avoided eye contact with the man.

“Alright um…” he begins nonchalantly pointing his finger at various campers, “eenie, meenie, minie,” before it stops and stays on Y/N’s frame, “you.” All of the hands surrounding her come down, and she looks up at him with wide eyes, terrified.

“Me?”

Andrew brought his still-pointed index finger up and twisted it around as he spoke. “Can’t argue with the finger.” Hailey, who sat beside Y/N, raised her hand once more.

“I’ll do it.” She volunteers with a smile.

“Ah, no. The finger picked her,” Andrew states. Y/N remained in her seat, hesitant from all of the pairs of eyes burning holes in the back of her head, Hailey’s included. But she knew she could not argue with Andrew, nor his finger.

“I, um…o-okay.” She spoke, rising from her seat and coming to stand beside him. A few seconds passed with Y/N not being given a prompt, so she just sang what she shared with the girls last night. Well, at three levels lower in volume.

“Who will I be? It’s up to me…” Andrew stopped before she could sing further and placed a hand on her shoulder.

“Alright,” his face inched closer to her ear so he could speak with her as privately as possible, “I know you’re singing a solo. But you’re so-low that I can’t hear you. Alright? So a little bit louder.” The class snickered at Andrew’s “constructive criticism” while Y/N took a deep breath to calm her nerves.

“Who will I be? It’s up to me…” She kept singing after this, voice roaring with much more passion and energy than the campers were prepared for. Certainly, it was not the same amount which she showed last night in front of her new cabin-mates, who sat watching her in awe, with an exception to Hailey, who sat with her arms crossed and jaw clenched. But Y/N failed to take notice of her stance as Andrew went directly in front of her. “Not bad. Not bad at all, is that an original?” He queries, draping his arm across her shoulder.

“Yeah, but it…it’s mine but—”

“Ah, no buts.” Andrew raises a hand in refusal. “It’s good.” He drops his cautionary palm, before raising his other from her shoulder. “Let me have a high five.”

Their hands smack and clasp together as Y/N’s giggles fill the building. Hailey watches from her seat with a sour face, going unnoticed by the girl. On their walk back to the cabin, Selena and Julia kept bubbling with praises for her.

“I didn’t know you were that good. You totally rocked it!” Selena commends.

“Thanks.” Y/N nervously chuckles, feeling her insides about to burst from accomplishment. Newfound confidence had wormed its way inside of her from an unknown origin, and right now it was doing no harm. Y/N hoped it would stay forever.

“So I’ve been thinking, and you have to sing with us in Final Jam. Your vocals in the background would be, like, amazing!” Hailey coaxes. “And we never let people in our group. But you? A must.” She declares. “So, you in?”

“Well, I was thinking of singing solo for Final Jam.” Y/N spills, looking down to twiddle with her thumbs.

“Solo in your first Final Jam?” Hailey’s eyes form a motion between a flick and a roll. “That’s brave.”

Selena rolls her eyes at Hailey’s antics and turns to send a smile in Y/N’s direction. “You’ll be fine.” And it did help the girl gain a bit more reassurance. Until Hailey’s next words made this newfound confidence of hers begin draining.

“Well, of course, she’ll be fine. It’s just that, I know how nervous I get.” The blonde admits.

“Well, I’m sure I’ll be nervous at first, but…”

“In front of all those people…” Hailey notes, “but, yeah, you’ll be fine. You’ve done it before.” Hailey waves, making Y/N’s brows inch together.

“Done what before?”

“You’ve never sang in front of an audience?” Hailey guffawed. Y/N thinks back.

“Well, yeah. I mean, choir. I was never the lead or anything, and I was always in the back, but it’s still an audience.” Y/N reckons.

“Wow.” Hailey’s eyes flick her figure up and down. “You are brave. Come on, girls. Let’s get started. The blonde and her sidekicks begin taking slow steps down the decline.

“Well, maybe a group would be better.” Y/N supposes aloud, already regretting her choice. Hailey turns around, sending her an unsure shrug.

“If you think so.”

“Yeah. No, it’ll be fun. I want to.” The girl speaks without a second thought. Which, now that Y/N comes to think of it, was something she had been doing a lot of lately.

“If you’re sure.” Hailey sighs.

“I’m totally sure.” NOT, Y/N screams internally. “I gotta run.” She says, after checking the watch wrapped securely around her wrist.

“Where?” Selena purses her lips and raises a curious brow.

“Huh? No…I-I mean…I gotta call my mom. China time!” Y/N cheers quietly, before turning away and bustling to the kitchen. Selena and Julia begin discussing a new topic as she leaves, but she can still sense a pair of eyes on her retreating figure. Hailey’s gaze watched her disappear with a pleased smile gracing her face.

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When Y/N ran through the kitchen doors, her mother released a gasp of surprise, arms stacked full of cupcakes in boxes. “I’m so sorry I’m late.” Her mother showed her a reassuring smile.

“That’s okay honey. The last batch of cookies is in the oven. You can start cleaning up. I’m gonna take these down to the storage room.” Y/M/N instructs and points her chin down to the boxes in her arms. Y/N nods to her before she exits, heaving a sigh afterward and grabbing the rag on the kitchen table. She crouches down to scout out some cleaning products before a voice has her ears perking up as well as her heart rate.

“Hello?” The male voice called out. Y/N did not recognize it, but she did know it was not one of the kitchen’s staff or camp director. No, he sounded on the younger side.

She sees long, denim-clad legs come into view from where she was squatting. Clenching her teeth and squeezing her eyes tight for a moment, she swiftly grabs a chef’s hat to place atop her head. As she does so, her elbow knocks into some metal bowls and pans stored on the shelf in between the table's legs.

“I can hear you.” The boy notes, much to Y/N’s displeasure. Y/N bites her lip and looks to her left. The bag of open flour stared back at her, taunting like it knew how desperate she was and she was. Taking a profuse amount of the fair-toned product, Y/N sucked in a large breath before her hands collided with her face. The flour did well to disguise most distinguishers on her faces, such as beauty marks or uneven skin tone. When she finally stood from her hiding place, Raul’s eyebrows uncurled, and his eyes swelled open. She would never admit it, but that was the first feature she noticed about Raul. And despite her latent hatred for his character, she felt her knees go wobbly by the whiskey irises staring straight at her.

“Hi.” Y/N smiled, nerves apparent. Raul brushed that aside though, considering he had come to view fans in states much more panicking.

“Do you work here?” He keeps his tone straight as he walks closer to the table, only less than a foot away from her. Y/N places her palms on the table for support, in fear that she might just faint there.

“I-I…yes.” She exhales, looking down at the mess still present on the silver table.

“Wow.” Raul eyes her, though he could not find much to distinguish her by with the long sleeve shirt covering most of her arms and flour hiding…everything else above that really. “You really get into your work.” Her eyes flick away from his, praying her rosy cheeks were not powerful enough to melt away the flour she had dusted her visage with moments earlier.

“I’m Raul. But I’m sure even the kitchen help knows that.” His voice, despite the harsh tone it carried held a sigh beneath each of his words. It undoubtedly made Y/N’s heart speed up more, and her throat tighten. The boy grabs one of the few stray cupcakes left on the counter and dips his finger into the top, gliding it through the blue icing. He brings it to his lips only seconds later. Y/N pretends not to notice, and replies in the cheeriest tone she could muster.

“Of course! Nice to meet you.”

“Actually, it’s not so nice.” His lips persist to stay in a line, Y/N’s eyes drifting down to his hand which now abandoned the dessert on the table. Her smile began to fall right then. “See my manager said he sent over my food allergy list. But since I couldn’t even go near my breakfast this morning.” His flat palm comes out and slices horizontally through the air, before mimicking Y/N’s earlier motion and placing against the cold steel. His voice grows quiet after a few agitated breaths.

“Can I just talk to whoever’s in charge?”

Just like that, the glass in Y/N’s head shattered. The framed photo of Raul Mendes now lied in the ninth circle of her mind, a place not even her most despised enemies have been to. It was like clarity struck her, and her eyes formed an x-ray designed specifically to scan through Raul. She saw right through his “tough guy” act, the thirst trap, all of it.

“Excuse me?”

“What?”

“Well, you’re kind of being a jerk.” Y/N retorts, standing her ground.

“And you are?’ Raul cocks a brow, making Y/N’s furrow. She kind of regrets powdering her face, as she finds her angry expression to be much more intimidating when not being blocked by flour.

“A person. And there’s a way to talk to a person and that’s not it.” Y/N claims, eyes scanning Raul’s figure up and down once more. What spell he had cast her under those first thirty seconds into the conversation, she does not know. She was just happy to be out of it by this point.

Raul blinks, almost stepping away from the table from the force of her words. Admittedly, when half of the world’s population is in love with you even though you are a jerk, you do not hear them vocalize their true thoughts often aloud. He felt as though he had just been sobered from a never-ending stupor and stood for a moment only able to blink. Y/N was unmoving, ready for another one of Raul’s snarky comments to leave her biting back one of her own. However, the boy’s voice grew smaller.

“I’ll just have my manager send it over again.” Raul proposes. A moment passed, Y/N absorbing his words before sending him a firm nod.

“Fine.”

Raul turned a heel and began shuffling out of the kitchen. But the fire that he had lit in her stomach from his attitude was still yet to be put out. Before his hand could reach the door, the sound of Y/N’s throat clearing directedly echoed throughout the room. He turned back around to face her.

“Thank you?” And she was nodding again.

“Much better.”

6 notes · View notes

iamartemisday · 4 years

Text

Merry Christmas, Miss Foster! Part One

A/N: For Lokane Week, I am resurrecting the Miss Foster series!

Well sort of. The next official part of the series has been half written for... some time now. I’m working on it, but there’s a lot of other stuff going on. You know how it goes.

For those unfamiliar, the Miss Foster series is an all human AU in which Jane is a second grade teacher who ends up with Loki’s three children in his class. Said kids are a bit too smart for their ages and decide Jane is exactly the kind of person their billionaire single father needs. And since there are LOKI’S children we’re talking about, they get into some wacky hijinks along the way.

This story is honestly in kind of a grey area in terms of continuity. It’s sort of like an anime movie where the timeline isn’t clear and it’s kind of just contained within itself. Semi-canon so to speak.

Regardless, whether you know this verse or not, I hope you all enjoy and I’ll see you again tomorrow!

The Odinson family had a log cabin nestled on a hilltop in the heart of Lake Placid. The only thing that shocked Jane was that it wasn’t three stories.

Snow was freshly fallen, just in time for the holidays. The sky was bright white, clouds masking the sun in preparation of another wintery onslaught. Riding in the back of a limousine, Jane flipped through several hundred stations, almost all of which were playing the same old Christmas music she knew by heart. Some of them were her favorite songs of all time. Many others she’d happily tear her eardrums out before she listened to them again.

At least the roads were clear, at least for now. The forecast called for clear skies until the 20th, when Jack Frost descended to unleash the full force of his icy fury upon the unsuspecting New York populace. Or so the weatherman rather hammily declared.

Which begged the question: why did Loki want to spend Christmas in the middle of the woods?

Another question: why did Jane agree to go with them?

It was the kids. She needed to face facts and admit to herself that for all her posturing and assertion of authority as their teacher, those three little angels wielded the power of the puppy dog eyes, and they were not afraid to use it.

“We bought this cabin from an old man who used it as a hunting lodge,” said Jormungandr. He flipped through the book in his lap. As always, it was roughly the size of his entire body. “He used to come out here with his two sons during deer season. Then one of them moved away and the other decided to be a vegan. Now he’s in Florida with his wife. He said the weather would do wonders for his aching joints.”

“I’m surprised you remember all that,” Jane mumbled.

“Dad’s offer nearly gave him a heart attack,” said Fenrir, stretching out in his seat like he was desperate to move. “His asking price was way lower.”

“But it was worth the money,” Hela proclaimed, beaming so hard her entire face glowed. Even the scars were less apparent. “And we fixed it up real nice. We go out and chop down a giant tree, and we decorate it and we put up lights and-”

“We don’t need a play-by-play,” Fenrir snapped, shoving his sister. “And quit yelling in my ear.”

“I wasn’t yelling!” Hela yelled. “Maybe you just need to clean your ears out.”

“Maybe you do!”

“Do not.”

“Do too!”

“See?” Jormungandr smiled. “Not even any hair-pulling. They’re already in the holiday spirit.”

“They most certainly are,” said Loki.

He drove over a rough patch in the road, the tires grinding through the rocks and making the inside jostle. Jane held tight to the dashboard until the road smoothed out. As expected, Loki had no reaction to it at all. He guided the car along the dirt path like he’d been doing it all his life. Like maybe he came out every summer to hunt deer now. Jane tried to picture him in a plaid shirt with a vest over it and a hunter’s cap. She wished she could laugh at the ridiculous idea, but like everything else the asshole wore, the idea just made her cheeks warm.

The mountains were lovely, she couldn’t deny that. Swathes of fir trees and a pure white sky gave the jagged cliff sides that picturesque quality Thomas Kinkade painting were made for. In fact, Jane was pretty sure she had seen these mountains in one of his greeting cards. Maybe Loki owned land around the cabin and licensed it out. For all she knew, they filmed Hallmark movies out here. Hell, maybe she was about to star in her own Hallmark movie.

Rich, handsome single father locked in a cabin for a week with his children’s second grade teacher. It practically wrote itself.

“What’s funny?” Loki asked.

Jane started. “Huh? I wasn’t laughing.”

“But you were smiling.”

“Smiling doesn’t mean something is funny,” Jane sat up straighter in her seat, “I might just like to smile.”

“Like Buddy the Elf?”

“Yes, exactly. Thank you, Hela.”

The little girl beamed, her lips lined with chocolate as she reached for the bowl of M&Ms. “Maybe we can watch it tomorrow. Tonight is The Muppet Christmas Carol.”

“Since when do you get to decide what movie we watch?” Fenrir snatched the M&Ms away. “I want to watch Die Hard.”

“Die Hard is for the 26th, Fenrir,” Hela retorted.

“Guys, come on,” Jane said, adjusting the rear view mirror to see them better. “We can decide when we get there what to watch. And don’t eat all of those. You’re going to get sick.”

“Don’t worry, they’re sugar free,” said Fenrir. “Otherwise, we’d have Jormungandr tied up in the trunk so he can’t get at them.”

“I can hear you, you know,” Jormungandr said, slamming his book shut.

“Welcome to the Odinson family Christmas,” he muttered in her ear. “Are you happy you said yes?”

Jane stared out the window as another pile of rocks whizzed by. “I’ll let you know.”

The car crawled higher and higher up the hillside. Every time Jane thought she saw a wooden roof in the distance, Loki turned a new corner. The town below had long since vanished. She wondered if they’d ever see it again. Someone had turned the radio on. The children sang along to Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer, their off-key but passionate interpretation earning applause from Jane and a smile from Loki.

By the time the shadow of a slanted roof came into view, they’d gone through Christmastime Is Here and that Alvin and the Chipmunks song. Now the music faded into the background as Jane beheld a palace of a cabin in the woods. Polished wood with a stone chimney. A covered patio and an observation deck overlooking the trees. In the back was a small structure, possibly a shed or even an indoor jacuzzi. Jane had learned never to assume with this family, and always expect the unexpected.

“By the way, our basement pool is currently closed,” Loki said as they pulled into the driveway. “We’re having issues with the heating system, but someone will be out to fix it shortly.”

“Great. I didn’t even pack a suit…”

The cold smacked Jane in the face as soon as she was out of the car. Looking around, there were ice patches everywhere. Some had been dissolved with rocksalt, but what remained made the front lawn resemble a minefield. It was a sentiment not shared by the kids, who raced to the front porch, cheering all the way.

“We’re going to have so much fun!” Jormungandr hopped in place. “We’re going to put up the tree and sing Christmas carols and bake cookies and wrap presents and build snowmen and-”

“Are you sure those M&Ms were sugar free?” Fenrir asked Hela, who shrugged.

“Now now, children,” Loki chided them, “remember we’re not alone this year. Grandmother, Grandfather, Uncle Thor, and Aunt Sif will be along in just a few days. We want to kept this place clean and presentable for them, don’t we?”

“Yes, Dad,” the triplets said. They walked up the stairs, speaking softly, and didn’t start screaming again until they were safely inside.

“A whole week out here,” Jane said, taking in the crisp mountain air. “Here I thought I’d just spend Christmas with a bowl of cereal again.”

“It won’t be that much of a change of scenery,” Loki said as the second car trailing behind them finally caught up. Out stepped a man glaring daggers at Loki. Luckily, Jane had convinced him not to actually bring any weapons. “I was nice enough to invite your dear brother along.”

“Yeah, you’re a saint, pal,” Bucky said, pushing past him. He managed to smile at Jane. Not even Loki’s presence could completely dampen his mood.

“Whoo! That was a hell of a ride!” Bucky’s passenger proclaimed, stumbling out of the car.

Loki sniffed. “And your… Darcy.”

Jane nodded. “Yeah, that was real nice of you.”

“You guys are lucky I couldn’t afford to go home this year,” Darcy said, flashing them a thumbs up. “By the way, I brought my own Menorah. Any place in there I can put it up?”

“The mantle should do nicely,” Loki said. “Just don’t touch anything.”

“I will do my best to respect your humble abode, Major Moneybags!” Darcy skipped along, leaving the pair, finally, completely alone.

“She needs to think up some more creative nicknames,” Loki observed, hand on his chin. “Why does she follow you everywhere?”

“Well, when I first moved into my apartment, she came over to ask if I had one of those whipped cream makers,” Jane sighed, “and then she just kind of never left.”

Loki hummed, and with that, they started for the porch. Luck, as it turned out, was on Jane’s side. She made it a full three steps before she slipped. With a yelp, she grabbed blindly for the nearest sturdy object. She hung on tight as her eyes unclouded and her mind reoriented itself. It was only then that rough leathery material in her hand shifted. Loki raised his arm, pulling Jane with him. She continued to cling to him, blinking stupidly at his chiselled features. It hit her all too late that they probably shouldn’t be doing this.

“Uh…” Jane said, stepping away and almost slipping again. “Thanks. Sorry.”

Loki pocketed his hands and glided across the ice patches, like he controlled them as much as he did everything else in his life. “Do be more careful next time.”

“Right.” Jane shuffled after her, head bowed, face boiling.

This was going to be a long Christmas.

#Lokane #Jane Foster #Loki #Lokane Week #Lokane Week Holiday Celebration #Day One #Snow and Ice

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caralynsmoved · 4 years

Text

the most wonderful time of the year

fandom: 911onfox characters: quinn callahan ( original female character ), athena grant-nash, sean callahan ( original male character ), bobby nash, fire fam ft. karen wilson and maddie buckley. pairing(s): athena grant-nash/bobby nash, maddie buckley/howie “ chimney “ han, hen wilson/karen wilson, allusions to evan “ buck “ buckley/eddie diaz rating: general audiences setting: sometime after the ice skating and a little before the christmas spirit episode, idk timelines are hard and i wrote this before the actual christmas ep aired. notes: so quinn is my oc formed of my love of kennedy mcmann and my need to just want more ocs basically. also s/o to @henwilsons bc she is pretty much quinn’s creator and a second s/o to @liesoverthec because when i posted hey who wants to hear about this oc you know nothing about it sweet bon-bon went me ! i do ! and made me giggle at work so here goes ?? ps. you can refer to this original post about quinnie if you want !

∞

“ should i ask how you found me or should we just skip to the why ? “ quinn asked, not even looking up from the drink in front of her.

“ maybe skip to why you haven’t been answering my calls, huh ? “ athena asked, taking a seat beside at the nearly empty bar.

quinn was sure in a few hours the now nearly empty bar would pack up with hopeful christmas couples, people looking for someone to spend the holidays with, mostly people trying to avoid the holidays in one of the most effective ways around .. at least that’s what she was trying to do before athena showed up.

“ i’ve been busy, you know holidays make people nostalgic for estranged family, lost holiday gifts, missed connections with that certain somewhere who winked at you while you were singing to last christmas on the subway. “ quinn said, taking a drink before she looked over to the woman at her side.

“ think you could still make some time for holidays, quinn, get your stocking all hung up. “ the stocking had been an addition during her first christmas with the grants. she had slept in the guest room and woken to a stocking on the fireplace bearing her name right next to everyone else’s. it had been one of the first times she had let herself celebrate the holidays since her dad … the stocking now got put up every year.

“ athena … “ quinn pressed a hand against her forehead, eyes closed tightly for a moment as she thought of the bright lights of christmas, watching rudolph curled into her dad’s side, hot cocoa in the middle of the night like a secret and the shadow that hung over them after he was gone, “ i don’t know, “

“ i know it’s been hard for you, lately. “ athena said, pushing the glass away just enough in hopes quinn wouldn’t notice, “ especially now, but baby you can’t keep hiding yourself away, there are people in your life now who love you, who want to be there for you .. if you’ll let them. “

quinn knew they would be, they had proven it in a hundred different ways; bobby being by her side after the tsunami when he wasn’t at buck’s, eddie going sparring with her at the gym when it all became much for either of them, buck and maddie stubbornly tailing with her on long stakeouts, hen and chim pulling her into team dinners at the station, it was even christopher or denny’s little hand reaching up for hers like they could trust her implicitly. the problem wasn’t that she didn’t know they were there the problem was they could easily be gone in an instant; one wrong call, one second too late, between one breath and the next … gone just like that. she’s already carrying one ghost she doesn’t know if her chest has room for any more.

“ one more ? “ the bartender, either not catching athena’s warning gaze or not caring ( it was more likely the second ) asked, jolting her out of her thoughts and she fumbled.

“ i .. i … ummm, “ words suddenly stuck in her throat as she felt the weight of it all fall on her shoulders with a rush, “ i need some air, “

the young woman pushed away from the bar and athena’s well meaning hands as she stumbled her way to the alley, falling down against it and letting the cold brick pressed against her back and shoulders chill her heated skin. out of control wasn’t a feeling she liked at all, out of control was something she didn’t get a luxury to feel because there wasn’t anyone around to catch her when it happened, no one to shield her when she fell or got too loud or did the wrong thing. out of control is how all of this made her feel and she pressed her forehead to her knees with a frustrated whine.

“ merry christmas, baby girl. “

the hands fell away from the little girl’s eyes and she saw white decorating the ground and it felt like magic,

“ snow ! “ instead of whirling straight into the white fluff the girl beelined for her dad behind her, wrapping her arms around him, “ you did it , daddy ! “

strong arms picked her up and twirled her around as she squealed and laughed as bright as the sun even as her dad clutched her to his chest and fell backward into the soft whiteness of the snow that glittered across their yard. she wriggled from his grasp as he rolled them around in the snow and looked up at her dad who smiled at her like he always did, “ told you i’d make it snow for you, quinnie, anything for my girl. “

it had never snowed like that in la and now that she was older she knew her dad had pulled strings to get snow in their yard, a simple call to a company, but to a little girl who wanted the realness of snow it had been everything and her dad had known that. they had stayed out there all day until they were soaked and shivering, he had coaxed her inside with hot chocolate and rudolph and she had fallen asleep in the window seat watching the snow settled in the yard … it had been their last christmas.

there was the click of heels on asphalt, a ruffle of fabric and a sigh before athena was settled next to her once more, wanting nothing more than to reach out and pull the girl into her arms.

“ i’m sorry, “ the words were old hat to quinn who spent her life either spitting them dismissively or profusing them to a grieving client … or the woman next to her, “ i’m so sorry. “

“ there’s nothing for you to apologize for, quinn. “ the softness in athena’s voice, the mom voice she and may always have teasingly called it makes her ache, makes her want for things she’s too afraid to have, too afraid to lose. “ i know you’re scared and it’s hard for you especially this time of year and as much as i want to just make it all better for you i can’t. “

quinn felt her green eyes sting with the press of tears and a sniffle following athena’s words had a gentle hand brushing pale red curls away from her face, stroking through her hair, “ i don’t … i don’t think i can do this anymore. “

the hand that was slowly brushing through her curls moved to turn her chin and she was met with a sad but no less warm smile, “ you don’t have to, not anymore. not if you don’t want to. “

it could be so easy …

“ i’m terrified, “ it was quinn’s breathless admission that had been held back like a warning she displayed to anyone who came close; damaged goods, broken toy, don’t come close; dead inside. athena had seen it all, pushed past the warning signs like a challenge and held her close even when she fought her, maybe especially when she fought her.

“ i know. “ two words seemed to signal some sort of click in quinn’s head as the tears built up spilled down her cheek and off her chin, “ being scared though it’s just a part of loving something or someone but it doesn’t mean you should just never let yourself feel it again. i’m scared whenever bobby walks out the door in the morning, i’m scared when i say goodbye to the kids, i’m scared whenever you don’t answer the phone and maybe it would be less terrifying to just pack it all in, but then i’d miss out on all the good that love brings me, all the people it brings into my life. “

a sob crackled through her chest and escaped her, it sounded aching and tired, it sounded like her. in a second she was swept into warm arms and cradled like she was something fragile. “ you’re going to be okay, i’ve got you now, i’ve got you, baby girl. “

she wasn’t naive enough to think one breakdown in a bar’s alleyway would magically fix everything, that she would dry her eyes and feel put together, but it was a start, it was a soothe to some of her jagged edges, it was a way to breathe again.

∞

tears dried and smudged makeup wiped away by skilled fingers, quinn shuffled in behind athena into the warm chaos that was the grant-nash household. there were decorations strewn about throughout the home, soft christmas music playing over a speaker, the smell of dinner wafting throughout and the sound of voices carrying over everything.

“ and i’m telling you that you’re wrong ! “ was buck’s shout that rang out through the house and greeted the two women as they came into the living area. the blond was sat on a couch with eddie and was halfway leaned off of it to meet chim who was sat with a fondly grinning maddie, hen with an arm wrapped around her wife rounded out the team.

“ except i’m not and you are, respect your elders, remember, buck ? “ chim quipped back at him, hands waving around that maddie skillfully dodged before gently grabbing one to hold which of course earned a sappy smile from her boyfriend. the words themselves drew a snort from eddie whose shoulder was promptly whacked by buck.

“ what are they arguing about now ? “ athena asked as she came into the kitchen where her husband was opening a bottle of wine with quinn once more trailing behind her, feeling oddly unsure even in the shelter that this home was to her, “ i thought when i left they were bonding over the music. “

“ which of course led to them arguing about christmas music .. i’m pretty sure they’re actually arguing about which is the classic christmas song. “ bobby said, an amused smile on his face as he came around to hand his wife a glass of wine and a kiss, “ glad you could make it, quinn. “

eyes drifting towards the mantle hung with stockings quinn almost started as she was pulled back to the present and offered the older man a half smile, “ me too, bobby. “

“ just because you’re older doesn’t make you right, chim ! “ buck said, leaning that much more forward only to be pulled back by eddie’s hand on his shirt keeping him from toppling straight off the couch.

“ and just cause you’re the baby, doesn’t make you right either ! “ whatever response buck had ready and waiting fell away at chim’s words and he sputtered.

“ baby ?! i am not the baby ! “

“ you’re literally the youngest person here, buckaroo. “

“ that doesn’t make me the baby ! “

“ throwing the temper tantrum might though, bambi. “ quinn quipped, making her way to the crowd and taking a seat next to karen who gave her a smile and a pat to her knee that had her sinking easily against the cushions.

“ come on, “ buck said, voice dropping from a shout to an indignant whine as he looked around at all of them, “ did you guys have to tell her about that ? “

“ well you just looked so adorable flailing around out there, i couldn’t help it. “ hen said, cooing at him leaving buck leaning back against the couch with a huff.

“ says you, i think i grew like ten gray hairs everytime he almost faceplanted. “ eddie chimed in, the same fondly exasperated look on his face he had on the ice that day.

“ i was not that bad. “ buck said, dodging the hand that eddie used to ruffle at his hair as his cheeks flushed with a blush.

“ not how i heard it. “ quinn said, pulling her socked feet up underneath her on the loveseat as her words caused buck to pout. “ aww, don’t pout, bambi. it’s almost christmas. “ maddie teased her brother earning a dramatic kiss on the cheek from her boyfriend.

“ i swear if that sticks .. “ the blond said, looking at all of them with a half-pleading, half-glaring expression on his face.

drinks were passed around as bobby and athena came to join them and for a moment it seemed like everything was there, everything she was so afraid to have and she thought once more of how quick and easy it would be to lose it all. then like that day in the hospital bobby asks her to help him in the kitchen and the confused glances are worth the easiness to draw in a breath,

“ better ? “ she’s not stupid, she knows there was nothing bobby actually needed help with and something about the realization makes her fingers tingle and ache as she runs a hand through her hair and looks up to meet his sympathetic gaze.

“ thanks, bobby. “ quinn doesn’t ask how he knew, how he always seems to know because the answers are there in all the things he does and says; the shadows that sometimes swim behind his gaze, the way he looks at buck, may and harry like he’s found something he never thought he’d find again .. sometimes she thinks they just see echoes of their pasts in each other.

“ no problem, kid. “ bobby said with this understanding smile as he stands next to her, a hand rubbing her shoulder and she thinks last year she never would have been able to do this, never would have let bobby this close, she thinks maybe this is what all that cliched talk of healing is supposed to mean, little things like this. she thinks maybe this she can do.

green eyes floating towards where the stockings hung once more and then towards the crowd of family scattered throughout the living room she took a breath, thought of her dad without a vice grip on her heart, the way the snow felt against her cheek when he rolled them around and how it felt when she saw her stocking on the mantel with all the others and how if anything else it made all the painful ache in her chest ebb just enough. it was funny how she felt like bambi herself in this moment, shaky legged and unsure as she made her way towards the mantle and picked up the red and white striped stocking with her name stitched in green lettering.

“ you’re my brave girl, you know that ? “ her dad said, reaching out to tweak her nose causing her to scrunch her features with a giggle.

“ daddys always say that. “ she protested, legs swinging where she was sat on the kitchen counter.

“ that’s because daddys are always right, “ he said with a knowing smile as he smoothed the bandage over her knee and reached behind him and like the magic she always assumed her dad had produced a bright blue sucker, “ especially when it comes to their brave girls. “

a breath in and a breath out and she carefully placed the stocking on the hook already placed and waiting for her.

“ looks good up there. “ athena’s voice called from where she was sat and quinn nodded, a smile she hadn’t felt in what felt like such a long time curving her lips as she looked at it before making her way back to her seat with the family and sat down, legs curling underneath her as she looked around at them. these people; these, crazy, wonderful, hilarious, strong and sweet people were hers and maybe she was even theirs. for now, that was enough, for now she could do this.

“ yeah, yeah it does. “

“ merry christmas, baby girl. “ a ruffle of her hair, a kiss against her forehead and the smell of his cologne so clear and present, curling around her like a memory, like a blanket.

#→ once as soft as water / quinn callahan #→ here to stand between you and the chaos / 911onfox #→ write until it feels as natural as breathing / abigail writes #so here's some soft angst about quinn #it's really on brand that i started this a week or two before christmas #and it's now the end of feburary before i finished and posted it #but here it is !#eventually more will be posted about quinn #also feel free to ask about her if you want !#after this i have a canon-divergent auish lone star fic in the work #that should hopefully have the first chapter up tomorrow while i'm at work of course lol #but anyways enjoy and validate me mrs. chanandler bong please !

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hawkinspostbite · 5 years

Text

a soft place to land

a little thing i’ve been working on since the beginning of may. it’s a mess and it sucks but it’s different so here you go -

Words: 9,166

MASTERLIST

A/N: I do not claim to, nor do I own Stranger Things; the concept, characters, plot, etc.

Part One: “You roll your own”

“Another man found dead in Indianapolis this weekend. The man, aged thirty-four, was found in the back seat of his own car. The apparent cause of death is asphyxiation, though an autopsy is to be performed. More on that story, later-“ She leaned over to press the button on the stereo, turning it off.

Carole looked over at her from the driver’s seat, then turning her attention to Vicki, who was perched in the back. “Jesus, am I the only one here who’s a little suspicious of all those men dying in the city?”

“What does it matter Vicki? They’re in the city, that’s like an hour away.” Carole responded.

“Yeah, but what if it’s not actually just random deaths, and what if it’s a serial killer or something?”

She couldn’t help but laugh.

“What? What’s so funny Colette?” Vicki whined at her.

“There’s no serial killer running around Indiana, not one that simply locks their victims in their running car at least.” She turned back to look at her friend, placing her hand on top of Vicki’s. “There’s nothing to worry about. You don’t own a car, so there’s no way for them to kill you.”

Vicki’s face dropped as the three girls laughed at her. “You can be a real bitch sometimes Colette.” She grabbed her bag and climbed out of the vehicle.

“Oh, you have no idea.” Colette replied, and the other three followed in Vicki’s actions.

Carole took a deep breath in, inhaling the cold, damp Indiana air. “Another morning in paradise.” She sighed, joining her friends as they leaned on her car, watching their classmates gather in the school courtyard for the day.

“That used to be only half-true.” Tina’s gaze followed the sight of a blue Camaro ripping through the parking lot. “Check out this one.”

The four of them watched as the car stopped, and from the passenger door, a red-headed girl got out. Without one word, she stepped on her skateboard and rode off towards the middle school. From the driver’s side, a boy stepped out. He wore a denim jacket over a white shirt, clinging tightly to his toned torso, paired with some very tight jeans and a pair of boots.

“Damn.” Vicki breathed.

“I thought you weren’t into guys with long hair?” Colette whispered. Vicki shrugged in response.

“Who is that?” Carole asked aloud.

“I don’t know, but would you check out that ass? Just look at it go.” Tina smirked, and the girls watched as the new kid walked towards the school. Colette rolled her eyes, picking her bag up from its spot on the hood and walking towards the school. She waited, shortly after hearing her friends follow her, ready to start another wonderful day at Hawkins High.

Carole had gained herself a session of after-school detention, and Colette found herself seated atop the hood of Carole’s car, digging through her bag. Billy watched her from afar.

She pulled a plastic bag out, it was about a third of the way full of skinny, cylindrical objects. She opened the bag, pulling one out, and then placing it back into her backpack. She then began to search for something else.

A lighter.

That was his chance.

He began to walk across the parking lot to her, in the direction of his car, but mostly towards her. On his journey he pulled a cigarette from his pocket, as well as his lighter. He cleared his throat. “Need a light?” He flicked the dial, lighting his own cancer stick.

She turned to him, unfazed. “Yes, please.” She smiled, placing the stick between her lips and leaning towards him. He stroked the dial again and watched as the paper lit. She took a long drag before leaning back to her previous position.

“You roll your own?” Billy asked, placing his lighter into his pocket.

She nodded. “I’m what you might call, a “naturalist”.” She took another drag. “I buy my papers, I buy my tobacco, I roll them. I don’t believe in all the other bullshit that’s in those.” She pointed towards Billy’s cigarette.

He raised his eyebrows. “These?”

“Yeah, those. There’s like hundreds of disgusting chemicals in them. Formaldehyde, that’s what they use to preserve severed body parts. Arsenic, that’s literally rat poison, and also tar. You’re smoking tar.” She took yet another drag of her own. “You are smoking tar. Need I say anything else?”

“Interesting…” He made a note to himself, earning a small smile from her. “I’m Billy Hargrove, by the way.”

“Colette Wicks.”

The pair shared a few minutes of silence, which was then cut short by Carole’s arrival. “Oh, hey Billy. I see you’ve met Colette. Isn’t she nice?” She said, unlocking her door. Colette couldn’t help but laugh.

She climbed off the hood. Billy took a step away as she stomped out her cigarette. “She’s a charmer.”

“Well, we better get going. I have to figure out a way to hide this detention slip Rogers practically glued to my notebook.” Carole held up her notebook as proof, showing that Rogers did, in fact attach a detention slip to it.

Billy nodded, catching Colette’s eye as she got into the car.

“Hey,” Carole smiled up at him. “There’s a party at my house tomorrow night. Why don’t you stop by?”

He took a moment to ponder the thought. In California, Billy was the life of the party. “Colette’s going.” Carole added.

“I’ll see if I can make it.” He smiled back at her.

With a wave, Carole pulled away, leaving Billy alone in the parking lot.

Colette arrived home to an empty house. Her mother was always late. She would wait until her mother arrived home to eat dinner, although she didn’t feel hungry. She never felt hungry. She never felt much of anything.

Colette had left her shoes by the door, and her coat on the floor. She made her way to the back door, peering out the window pane and into the yard. Amidst the dead winter grass stood a tall, branchy tree. A few stray yellow buds hung onto the lower limbs, and dried seed pods littered the ground around it.

She remembered when her father had brought it home. It was just a little sapling, only two feet tall, with one small branch. He had just come home from England, and thought it a good idea to bring Colette her first plant. Along with it he had brought a book, titled ‘Plants & Leaves’. “Laburnum anagyroides”, it was called. “But it’s non-scientific name is simply: common laburnum.” Her father had said. She helped him to plant it, and watch it grow. And now it had grown to be a great, strong tree.

Colette started at the tree. At the branches, the drying leaves, and pods, and then her eyes came down to the trunk. And the little stone cross that sat askew at the base. She knew why the cross was there. For her father. But she never knew how he died. She remembered his funeral. She thought about it often.

She remembered her mother and grandparents. And the entire extended family. The room was hot, and her dress was itchy. And everyone cried. There were tissues everywhere. She had wanted to badly to walk around the room and pick up the discarded tissues. She made a mental note about how rude it was that people just dropped them on the ground. She had also remembered the ending. Where she and her mother greeted everyone as they paid their final respects to her dad. She remembered every person that was there. But most importantly she remembered the way her mother pinched the back of her arm, unprompted, hard enough to break skin.

When she was younger, she had never realized why her mother had done that.

Her mother had pinched her, to make her cry.

Colette hated parties. She found no enjoyment in allaying the nervous system, or dancing with random classmates. Despite her distaste for parties, she was often in attendance of them. Carole always dragged her to them, the excuses varied from believable to ridiculous. “I need a DD.”, “Tina’s mom just got a new six-tape cassette player”, “Tommy said he needs help painting the living room.” She stood in the corner of the living room, of whoever’s house they were at, sipping slowly at the same bottle of water she kept all night, and watching with disgust as students of Hawkins high melted away to nothing.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a figure approaching her. Upon a second glance, she saw that it was Billy. “Why the long face?” He tilted his head, studying her face. She knew the exact expression that was on her face - Her eyebrows were furrowed, her eyes squinting to focus on specific people, and her lips curved into a frown. It was her default.

“I’m not a party-person.” She replied, looking up at him. “Truth be told, this is the last place I would like to be right now. I’ve got things to do tomorrow.” She checked her watch. It was the third time she had checked it in the past thirteen minutes, as if checking it more frequently would make the time go by faster.

“What are you doing tomorrow?” Colette blinked at him, slightly annoyed by his prying. But the humanity in her knew that he was only trying to be polite, and make conversation.

“I have a weekend course at the Indiana University, in Indianapolis tomorrow.” Billy nodded, taking genuine interest in what she was saying. “I favor chemistry-“

“So that’s how you know everything that’s in a cigarette?”

She narrowed her eyes at him, frustrated that he interrupted her. “I favor chemistry.” She nodded. “I take weekend courses once a month, in which we study different topics. The first seminar I ever took was on the topic of cigarettes - From then on I have never bought a pack. I roll my own.”

“What are you studying this weekend?” Billy asked, taking a mouthful of beer.

“Substances of the human body.” She replied, taking another sip of her water. Billy sputtered, a slight stream of beer dribbling down his chin. “You’ve got something on your chin.” Colette reached out to wipe it away.

Billy’s eyes softened at her gesture. Until that moment he thought he would never see an ounce of emotion from Colette. “Maybe I could come with you sometime. To one of your seminars.”

She shook her head. “They’re invite-only. No guests. You have to know people.”

“Who do you know?” He asked, a tinge of jealousy in his words.

“My father used to work for IU. That’s who I know.” She lied. Her mother had told her to stop lying - Lying painted a bad image in other people’s heads. And yet, lying is how Colette thrived.

She looked at her watch again. “I’m going now.” She pushed herself from the wall, heading towards the door. Inside, Billy panicked, his hand frantically grabbing her’s. Colette stopped, staring in confusion at the boy behind her.

His mouth hung open, he was even shocked by his own actions. “Let me take you home.”

“You’ve been drinking.” She said, eyes traveling to read the label on the bottle in his hand.

“You’re right - You’re right.” He sighed. “Idiot!” “Let me at least walk you outside? So I can make sure you get on your way safely. It’ll help me sleep tonight.” He smiled at her.

Colette nodded, dropping his hand. If it wouldn’t raise any suspicions to her walking home alone in the middle of winter, then she would let him walk her to the door. With his hand pressed to the small of her back, she guided him through the crowd of people. When they reached the front door, Billy leaned down to give her a small kiss on the cheek, to which Colette did not respond.

“Be careful.” He said.

“I’m always careful. It’s other people we need to worry about."

The next morning Colette was on the bus “Northbound to Indianapolis” at six, and she was free in the city by nine. She left her bag with the doorman at the hotel. Check-in wasn’t until eleven, so she began to explore the city. Each time Colette visited the city she ventured further south, determined that one day, she would reach the last street.

Looking down at her map, she stopped, and above her was the glowing neon sign of a bar, the bar. “Lil Joe’s Down Below”. She uncapped the red marker from her pocket and made a cross over the spot on her map. At the top of the page she scribbled “November 1984”, folded up the paper, and began walking back towards the center of the city.

Upon returning to the hotel, she checked in, took a nap, changed her clothes, and then headed back out. She carried few things with her, only the necessities. Her bag of cigarettes, lighter, I.D, November map and twenty dollars cash. She looked up. In all of it’s neon glory, the bar sign illuminated her in fluorescent pink.

At the door the bouncer asked for her I.D, to which she complied, flashing him the I.D of Lucille Todd, a newly thirty-year old, resident of Terre Haute. For a bar on the southern end of the city, “Lil Joe’s” was decent. AC/DC blasted from all angles and people flooded the dance floor.

Colette took a spot at the bar, ordering nothing more than a simple sparkling water, with one slice of lime. And then she waited.

A short time later, a man, who seemed to be in his thirties made his way to the bar, ordering a bourbon, straight. Colette sat upright, gripping the $20 between her fingers. “Let me get that.” She placed the bill in front of the bartender. “Cover mine too.”

The man looked at her. “I’m usually the one buying the ladies drinks. Thank you though.” He stepped closer.

“How many drinks have you had tonight?” Colette asked.

The man rolled his eyes. “Geez, probably about seven or eight, not counting the shots.”

The glass of bourbon was set down in front of him. Colette smiled. “Michael Fahringer.” He stuck his hand out for her to shake.

She nodded. “Michael, the bourbon drinker. Lucille Todd, I drink a vodka tonic.” She was lying again.

“Well, Lucille, the vodka drinker,” he took a sip of his drink. “Did you happen to come here alone tonight?”

“I could ask you the same thing.” She noticed a thin gold band on his left hand.

“Me? Yes. Yes I did. I did come here alone. This, don’t worry about this.” He rugged at his ring. “My wife and I, we’re separated right now.”

“Well then I suppose your ex-wife, wouldn’t mind if I-“ She leaned forward, placing her lips on his.

Michael let go of the glass and placed his hands on her hips. “What do you say we get out of here?” He asked.

“I thought you’d never ask.”

Colette led Michael out a side entrance, and into the alley. “There’s no cabs down here at this time of night, we’ll have to walk back to my place.” Colette sighed. “I need a cigarette first.” She pulled a stick from her bag, using her lighter to ignite the it. “You smoke?” She asked.

“Yeah.”

“You want one?” Michael nodded his head as she handed him one. She lit the end, and watched in silence as he took a few drags. She breathed in deeply, inhaling the pure taste of her cigarette. She held her cigarette, watching Michael closely. A harsh cough interrupted the silence.

“Shit.” Michael coughed again.

“Are you okay?” She knew he wasn’t.

“No- I don’t know. My chest burns.” He wheezed, struggling for air. “I feel dizzy. Do you have any water? My mouth burns.” Falling to the ground, Michael’s legs became tense. The cigarette dropped from his hand.

He looked at it. “Fuck, what did you do to me?” Colette bent down beside him, crushing the cigarette beneath her boot. She looked him in the eye, and didn’t respond. “You roll your own cigarettes.” He choked.

She reached her hand out to touch the ashes of the dying cigarette. His left hand raised, slashing her palm. “Shit!” She stood up, clutching her injured hand.

He had grabbed a shard of broken glass while he was laying, in an attempt to protect himself. It was no use. Colette pried the shard from Michael’s weak hand, placing it in her bag. Below her, Michael wheezed, no longer able to speak, his eyes pleaded for his own life. On the concrete he shook, his mouth began foaming. Until suddenly, he was still. Colette stood above him, as he let out a final breath. His eyes rolled back, and he laid lifeless as her feet.

Her work was done.

On Monday Colette returned to school. Everything was the same, except for the cut on her palm, which she had concealed with a band-aid. She knew she should have gone to the hospital to get stitches, but checking herself into the hospital was dangerous. She would have had to provide information, which in return would leave a paper trail, which could lead right back to the scene of this crime. Quite literally.

“Did you guys hear about another murder that happened in the city?” Vicki’s voice came pouring into Colette’s ears, shrilly, at lunch. “Another man - But this time he wasn’t in his car, he was just found in an alley.”

“Was he hurt?” Carole asked, genuinely curious.

“No. There wasn’t a single mark on his body. Police said he suffocated.”

“How did he suffocate if there weren’t any ligature marks on his neck?” Colette asked. All eyes turned to her. “Most times when someone suffocates, there’s evidence. Strangulation - something wrapped around their neck. Smothering - Fabric fibers left on the skin. Closed airways, or a collapsed lung. He couldn’t have just choked on nothing.”

Vicki shook her head. “His blood alcohol levels were spiked, but that’s about it.”

“Last time I checked alcohol can’t make you suffocate.” Tina said.

“It can if it goes down the wrong tube.” Colette replied.

“Tell us, Doctor Wicks.” Carole leaned into the conversation, grinning.

“In your throat there are two tubes - the food pipe, the esophagus, and the wind pipe, the trachea. The trachea leads directly to your lungs, and the esophagus to your stomach. Sometimes your food or drinks accidentally redirects itself “down the wrong pipe”.” She paused. “It is completely possible for you to drown without being submerged in water. If you swallow water down your trachea, it will sit in your lungs and become infected, thus, not allowing air to filter through properly, and then you die.”

“Wow.” Vicki said. “So do you think he swallowed his alcohol down the wrong tube?”

“Possible.” Colette shrugged.

“Anybody wanna go to the mall after school?” Tina asked. Vicki and Carole immediately agreed.

“Sorry, I can’t. I’ve got some stuff to do around the house.” The three girls rolled their eyes. Colette wasn’t lying this time, she really did have some things to do around the house. Plus, the nearest mall was forty minutes away - in Carmel. And she didn’t particularly feel like taking a road trip on a Monday night.

Just as soon as the conversation began, it was over. And Colette’s friends had moved onto a new topic of discussion. Across the lunch room, she noticed Billy watching her. He smiled at her, and she returned the gesture, before focusing back on the conversation her friends were having.

Colette arrived home that afternoon. An empty house was routine now. Her mother never returned home from work until late. Leaving her shoes and coat by the door, Colette locked the door behind her, inspecting each of the rooms in the house - Making sure each window was locked, curtains drawn. She checked on the tree out back. Still dry, dying, and yet magnificent as ever.

She turned the light on in the kitchen, taking her mortar and pestle out of the cabinet. On the stove the piece of glass that her latest victim used to injure her sat wrapped in a piece of cloth. She unwrapped it, placing it in the mortar. Slowly she began to grind down the glass, working away at it until it was nothing but a fine powder.

From her bedroom she brought out her rolling papers and tobacco, which she kept safely in her nightstand. Not to be confused with the two bags of already-rolled cigarettes, which were also vastly different - One was safe and the other was not.

Into the mortar she put one handful of tobacco, making sure to fully incorporate the sand with it, before beginning to roll her new cigarettes. Out of the latest batch she rolled sixteen, which she placed into the bag full of not-safe cigarettes. She washed out the mortar and pestle thoroughly, three times to be exact, before drying it and placing it back in the cupboard. She cleaned the stovetop and counters with disinfectant bleach, making sure to leave no trace of debris behind. Then she took the cloth that had once held the piece of glass and went into the bathroom.

Kneeling over the toilet, Colette lit the fabric on fire, watching as it flaked off into ash into the toilet. When it was finally done, she flushed the remnants, then cleaning the toilet bowl with bleach. She washed her hands, before continuing on with her night, as if she didn’t just roll glass into cigarettes.

—

Part Two: “The tree, my tree”

In the months since knowing Colette, Billy had become completely enamored with her. In January they went out on their first date. In February they had become an official couple. And now, in March, they were practically inseparable. Billy couldn’t count on his two hands how many things he loved about Colette. “Love.” That was a new feeling for him.

The couple spent long nights together, talking about anything and everything. Billy spoke endlessly about California, telling Colette many stories from his younger days. And Billy was curious to learn about chemistry, as well as the parts of the human body. Colette taught him everything he wanted to know.

Since November Colette had returned to Indianapolis five more times, and each time she came home having left another victim in her wake. She would leave Saturday morning, and return on Sunday night, ready to go to school the next day as if nothing ever happened. She never felt guilt, or remorse, or sadness for what she did. She never felt bad for lying to her friends and Billy about not really taking weekend seminars at IU. She never felt bad that she was stringing Billy on, giving him false hope, where no hope actually laid. She just never felt.

Now once again, it was “IU weekend”, and Colette was on the bus to Indianapolis. But what she didn’t know was Billy was too. Intent on spending a romantic weekend in the city, Billy had bought a bus ticket, and reserved a hotel room, planning to surprise Colette.

Upon arrival in the city, Colette completed her regular routine: dropping her bag off at the hotel lobby, since it was too early for check-in, scouting out her next location, then checking in to her room, napping, and heading out for the night. As always, in her possession were only the essentials - her cigarettes, lighter, I.D, March map, and twenty dollars cash. Her location of choice this time was “Mehra’s”, a dimly-lit, dingy bar, that served specifically imported whisky, and that was about it. But alas, it was still the perfect place to commit a crime.

Billy followed her earlier, as she traveled further and further downtown, struggling at some points to keep up with her on the subway, but he noticed that she ended up at a bar, “Mehra’s”, the sign read. They opened at nine, and Billy knew Colette liked to be on time to everything, so he decided that he would show up late, precisely at ten, to give her some time to loosen up before he surprised her. Billy failed to realize a few key things - How did Colette get into the bar? And how would he later?

Lucille Todd ordered a Diet Coke, with a sprinkle of cinnamon in it. And waited for her next victim to approach. Around nine-thirty, a man walked up to the bar, ordering a whiskey from Taiwan. Colette placed her $20 on the counter. “Let me get that, it’s my treat.” She smiled warmly at the man. “Cover mine too.” The bartender nodded, taking the money.

“Jeremy Schwerer.” The man stuck his hand out, Colette shook it.

“Lucille Todd.”

The pair began a conversation, in which Jeremy asked about Lucille’s life - Where she worked, lived, how old she was, etc. Of course, Colette answered with Lucille’s truth, just not with her own. After about twenty minutes, Colette was ready to go. “Want to come back to my place?” She asked. Jeremy nodded, and took Colette’s hand as she led him out the side entrance. She sighed, looking around at the corner of the building. “No cabs down here at this time of night, we’ll probably have to walk. I’m gonna need a cigarette first.”

She reached into her bag, pulling out a cigarette from the good pouch, and lighting it. “Do you smoke?” She asked, turning to Jeremy.

“Yes, but I have my own-“ He patted his pants pocket, searching for his cigarettes and a lighter.

“Have you ever tried hand-rolled cigarettes?” He shook his head. “Here, try one.” From her bag she pulled out a cigarette from the bad pouch, handing it to him. She used her lighter to ignite it for him. “Hand-rolled cigarettes are way safer than store-bought, I mean, if you’re going to become addicted to nicotine, why not become addicted to only nicotine.”

Jeremy scrunched his eyebrows, taking a puff of his stick. “Your cigarettes have thousands of toxic chemicals in them. Formaldehyde, arsenic, tar, ammonia, acetone, just to name a few. With these-“ She motioned to her cigarettes. “You get two things, tobacco and nicotine, and that’s it.”

Jeremy nodded. “It does seem lighter than my regular ones.”

“Exactly-“ Before Colette could continue, Jeremy began to cough. “Are you okay?” She knew he wasn’t. He coughed again, this time harder.

“Shit.” He gasped, his hand pressing to his lips. Blood dribbled from his mouth, causing it to splatter onto his chin. “What’s happening?”

He looked at her, trying to put the pieces together. Colette stood calmly, watching as Jeremy doubled over, groaning. He fell to the ground. “My mouth burns, my chest burns - It feels like I’m on fire.” Jeremy continued to cough. His body became tense, and pink foam came from between his lips.

“What did I just smoke?” Tears rolled down his cheeks, as he watched Colette pluck the cigarette from between his hands. She crushed it into the ground, grinding it into ashes beneath her feet. She bent over, lighting the remaining ashes ablaze, sure to leave no trace behind.

Jeremy began choking - Coughing and gasping for air. His eyes became red, tears profusely falling from them. He so desperately wanted to scream, to have anyone be able to hear him, but his lungs did not allow it. He began to seize, a pool of blood and saliva forming on the concrete beneath his head. Then, just as soon as it began, it stopped.

Her work was once again, done.

Colette walked back into the bar through the side-entrance, waving a “goodbye” to the bartender. She retreated out the front door, in a hurry to get back to her hotel room before the police were called, but at the end of the block she ran into a problem. Billy Hargrove.

“Billy! What the hell are you doing here? How did you know where I was?” She began to panic, frantically looking around her. “Billy, I have to go, now.” She pushed past him.

“Wait, wait!” He grabbed her forearm, making her stop. He studied her face. She looked worried - Billy had never known Colette to be worried. “Are you okay? Did something happen? Do I have to-“

“Something’s going to happen if we don’t leave this place right now!” She tugged her arm away from him, walking North. She had to try and remember the safest path back to her hotel without her map, puling a map out right now would be too suspicious. She stopped at the beginning of the next block. “Are you coming with me, or not Hargrove?”

Eyes wide, he ran across the street, following his girlfriend as she frantically found her way back to the hotel. Colette’s inner monologue was running rampant. She had stayed in the area too long. It had taken too long for the plants to take affect. She talked too much. She touched too much. “We have to go home tonight.” She spoke, once in the safety of her hotel room.

“But babe, I already paid for one night in my hotel room.” He stopped her pacing, holding her tightly to him. “You’re acting crazy. Did something happen?”

Colette pried herself away from Billy. “I want to go home. I need to go home.” She began pacing again. “I don’t feel good.” She began to pack her things.

“But what about your class tomorrow?”

“I don’t care, I’ll make it up next time! We need to go now!” Colette paused, taking a breath in. “Go pack your things, I’ll meet you in the lobby.”

Without another word, Billy nodded, going to his room. Ten minutes later Colette and Billy checked out of their rooms, and caught a bus back to Hawkins. Once outside of Indianapolis, Colette calmed down, though she wasn’t out of the woods yet. “I’m sorry you got worked up. I had a nice weekend planned for us.” Billy placed his arm around her shoulders, softly kissing her forehead.

Colette watched the scenery out the window, nodding slowly. “I know. I’m sorry. I just got really freaked out.”

Billy nodded back. “Try and get some sleep. I’ll wake you when we’re home.”

—

She and Billy had been dropped off at the bus station at the tip of Hawkins at three in the morning, Billy so kindly drove her home, despite his offers for her to stay at his house that night. And with a quick peck, she went inside. She was careful to be quiet as she entered, locking the for behind her. She left her shoes and coat by the door, and by force of habit she turned the backyard light on, checking on her tree. There it stood, tall and proud, just as it had done many years before.

The door to her mother’s room was shut, meaning she had turned in for the night. So Colette began her tasks. She took the bag of bad cigarettes from her nightstand, as well as the one in her bag and went out to the backyard. She dumped the contents of the bag at the base of the tree. From inside the toolshed she grabbed her mother’s container of gasoline, uncapping it and dousing the cigarette pile with it.

With tears in her eyes, Colette struck the stone on her lighter, causing a flame to spark. Holding her breath, she touched the flame to the pile of cigarettes, sending them up in an inferno. Colette stepped back, throwing her lighter into the flames.

She had come too close to being caught tonight. She had to get rid of all evidence. She had wanted to light the cigarettes on fire, as well as her tree, and just be done with it all. Be done for good. For her mother. For herself. For Billy.

Billy.

Imagine what Billy would think of her.

Colette stood outside in the cold, watching as her cigarettes, and the identity of Lucille Todd - Her hard work, burned to ash. She doused them in a heavy coat of water from the hose before using a shovel to pick them up and distribute them in her mother’s herb garden, which was dormant for the winter.

Hands frozen, eyes sore, she retreated back into the house, quietly going into her room. Colette didn’t sleep at all that night. She was too paranoid that the police would come looking for her. Or worse - That Billy would find out what she had done.

—

Colette spent the entirety of Sunday recouping from her disastrous Saturday night. She locked herself in her bedroom, not even leaving to eat or drink. She ignored her mother’s beckoning, and screened all of Billy’s calls. She tried to sleep, but just found herself running around different theories of what would happen to her. What could happen to her.

Monday morning she returned to school. “Did you guys hear about the newest murder in Indianapolis this weekend?” Vicki squealed. Colette couldn’t wait. “Well I should say attempted-murder, because the guy didn’t actually die.”

Colette dropped her fork, her blood ran cold. “What do you mean, attempted-murder?” She asked quietly.

“Well the guy was found outside in an alley, practically dead. Like he vomited up blood and was foaming at the mouth and everything, but the EMTs found a pulse on him. Now he’s in the ICU at Indiana State Hospital, he’s basically a vegetable. But how awesome is that, he survived an attempted-murder.”

Colette could feel her salad bubbling up in her stomach. Carole reached across the table, swatting at her friend. “Surviving almost being killed is not awesome Vicki! Have some respect.”

“Sorry.” Vicki rolled her eyes. “Anyway, the police are launching this whole investigation now. They’re trying to find the links between this guy and all the other guys from the past year. There has to be connections.”

“You got anything to say about this, Doctor Wicks?” Tina asked, slyly. Colette shook her head, grabbing her bag and standing up. “Where’re you going?”

“I think I’m gonna be sick.” Colette quickly ran out of the lunch room, passing Billy on the way. He got up from his table, following her into the girl’s bathroom. The salad she had eaten just fifteen minutes before made a reappearance.

“Colette, hey, are you okay?” Billy asked from outside the stall.

“Billy, this is the girl’s bathroom.” She groaned, flushing the contents down the toilet.

“I know.” He replied, leaning against the sink and waiting for her to come out. “Do you want me to take you home?”

Colette came out of the stall, nodding in response. Without a word, Billy walked her out to his car and drove her home. “Feel better.” He kissed her cheek as she left his car. “Call me later if you’re feeling better!” He called out the window before driving off.

Colette was sure she was going to spiral.

How could she have screwed up that badly? That man smoked glass! Literal glass. It was impossible. Maybe the chemicals were imbalanced. Her previous concoction was perfect, why did she have to fuck it up with some glass? Damn it.

Colette left her shoes and coat by the door, then walking to the back door to check on her tree. Colette was surprised to see the there was no longer a tree though, just a small stump. She stepped back from the window, her body feeling woozy. Rage - Or at least that’s what she assumed it was, bubbled up inside of her, starting in her stomach and rising into her heart.

Shaking, she sat on the couch, waiting for her mother to come home. At seven she arrived. Mel watched her daughter with careful eyes as she stepped into the kitchen, leaving her purse on the table. “The tree.” Colette spoke. Mel could feel the anger surging into the words. “Where is the tree?”

“I got it cut down today.” Mel turned to look at Colette. She stood before her, fists clenched.

“Why?” She was breathing heavily. “Why did you get rid of my tree?”

Mel shook her head. “You think I am so naive, don’t you Colette? Do you not think I don’t know what you’ve been doing with that tree? In the city? With your cigarettes. I can read books too!”

“Liar!”

“Liar? Me?” Mel laughed. “I think you’re a liar.” Colette shook her head. “Do you want to know why you’re a liar Colette? Do you want to know what I know? I know everything!”

“No!”

Her mother was screaming at her. “I know everything! I know that you’ve been growing that stupid tree for years, years! You have been growing it, and harvesting the seeds, and using them to kill innocent men!” Colette’s eyes widened with fear. “It’s not a coincidence - All those weekends that you went on “trips with IU”, and every time you came back, without fail, a new murder happened in the city. And the funny thing is, it’s not even the first time you killed.”

“What?” Colette’s throat felt like it was closing up.

“Do you want to know why you can’t remember how your father died?” Colette shook her head. “Because you killed him.”

“No!” Tears began to fall down her face.

“Yes! You killed your father!” Mel was growing increasingly more agitated. “You killed him with that damn tree! I should’ve known it was coming, I should’ve known something was coming. You had been reading that damn ‘Plants & Leaves’ book he brought home from the grocery store for weeks. You were seven, how was I supposed to know you were plotting to kill somebody, with a tree! - He asked you to get him a cigarette, he rolled his own, and you knew that. You knew where they were, and how he did it, because he showed you. He showed you because he wanted to “educate” you. That’s how you got all those damned books!”

“Stop it!”

“You rolled him a cigarette yourself, out of tobacco and seeds that you crushed up, seeds from that tree!”

“Stop!”

“I remember how you handed it to him, you had the prettiest little smile. And then he died, he died in bed. He died in my bed!” She grabbed her daughter’s shoulders. “How do you think that made me feel? Knowing that my own daughter killed my husband, and he died in my bed?”

“Stop! Stop!” Colette struggle against her mother.

“And you didn’t cry at the funeral. You never cried. Not even when you were a baby.” She finally let go. “Jesus Christ, I should’ve known back then, I should’ve taken you right to the fire department and left you on the front step!”

“Shut up!” Colette felt helpless.

“The reason I let you go, the reason I didn’t call the police the day you killed your father, was because I love you. I had hopes for you. I believed that you would be able to feel someday.” Mel sat down on the couch. “That was a mistake too.”

Colette stood before her mother, trembling, weak, sobs racking her body. “Go the hell to bed.” Her mother said.

The pair stayed still, watching each other uneasily, until Colette finally did as she was told.

—

Part Three: “The evil is strong”

It had been two months since Colette’s failed homicide. Two months since her mother cut down the tree. Two months since she had been caught - Not by the law, but by her mother. And every day Colette lived in fear. Fearful that the police would come, that her mother would rat her out, but most of all that Billy would find out what she had done.

She had become so fond of Billy lately. He provided comfort in a new and exciting time for her - The first time in her life she was experiencing emotion. Thus far she had felt fear, anxiety, pain, and anger. And each time Billy was there to help her through it, despite not knowing the conditions for her emotions. Colette valued Billy greatly, but he was also another source of her fear.

Quite often the pair talked about “greater forces”. About how there was a greater force inside of everyone, most people called it their “conscience”. And your conscience is either good or bad - There are no in-betweens. Colette knew that her greater force was evil, and she was worried that it would someday become stronger than herself and cause her to hurt Billy. The only person she had cared for in her entire life.

But suddenly one day it all came crashing down. It became too much, and Colette cracked.

She and Billy were laying in bed, just talking, like they always did. Until he said those dreaded words. They took her by surprise. “I love you Colette.” He said, out of the blue, after she had told a story about Tina from when they were younger.

Colette jumped off the bed. “How can you love me? You don’t even know me. You don’t know who I am Billy. You don’t know things I’ve done.” She was trying to get away from him, but she couldn’t leave her own house.

Billy was in shock. It was almost like somebody flipped a switch inside of her, the reaction was instantaneous. “Yes I do. I know you, I know you’re good.” He placed his hand on her shoulder.

She swatted his hand away. “No! No! I’m not good Billy, I am the complete opposite of good! I’ve done so many bad things that good isn’t even in the spectrum of proper ways to describe me!”

“Would you stop being so hard on yourself? People can change.”

“Not me Billy. Not for what I’ve done.”

“Colette-“ Billy sat on her bed, desperation on his face. All he wanted was for her to be happy, to feel loved, to need him. But nothing he was saying was working.

Colette felt her insides crumbling. “I can’t keep living this lie.” The words left her mouth before her brain even had a chance to stop them.

Billy tensed up. “What lie?”

Colette began to pace back and forth. There was no escaping this. Everything in her brain was replaying at the same time, every emotion she had never felt was coursing through her body. She began to panic. “Colette, what lie?” Billy shouted at her.

Her hands were shaking. She stopped for a moment, staring longingly at the boy before her. She was about to make his world come crashing down. “I killed my dad.” The words came slowly, dread dripping from every one of them. Billy was frozen.

“I killed my dad. I killed my dad.” She repeated. “I killed my dad, and many other men. But I didn’t kill you.”

Was she trying to justify her actions?

“No way.” Those were the first words that came to Billy’s mind. He couldn’t believe it. He wouldn’t believe it. There was no way. There was no way that this girl, the girl in front of him, his favorite person on the planet, the only one he’s ever loved, killed someone - Multiple someones.

“Yes.” She blinked back tears. Her heart ached for him. All those years she had never felt, were now rushing through her. Her body was on fire. Colette grabbed Billy’s hands. “I told you, I’m not good. I am evil - There’s an evil inside of me, and it’s stronger than me.” She dropped his hands. “It always has been.”

Billy became numb, hot tears fell onto his cheeks. “It has to end.” Colette whispered, turning to leave the room.

“Stop! Where are you going?” She had shut the door behind her, locking him in from the outside. Billy got up, pounding his fists on the door. “Colette! Open the door! Open it!”

Tears falling down her face, she walked down the empty hallway and into the kitchen, picking up the phone. She sobbed, hearing Billy’s frantic screams from the down hall. The phone was ringing. “Damnit! Damnit!” Billy used all the force in his body to ram the door open. He tumbled to the floor, the door beneath him. “Colette!”

Billy rushed down the hallway, expecting her to be dead on the floor, but instead she was sitting on the couch, a solemn look on her face. Her tears had stopped falling. She sniffed. “It’s over.”

He knelt onto the floor in front of her, placing his hands on her knees. “What? What’s over?”

She shook her head, a one last tear falling from her eye. “Me.” She croaked out.

Billy gripped her hands, shaking his head repeatedly. This couldn’t be real. He looked up at her, she was watching his eyes, overcome with sadness. His head whipped around to look out the front window, sirens filled the dead air, blue and red lights came into view. He swallowed his dread, putting his hands on her cheeks.

Billy kissed her one last time.

The door opened, Jim Hopper stepped through, his gun drawn. “Hands up Hargrove!” Billy placed his hands in the air, standing up. “Come here.” Jim beckoned him to stand beside him. Deputy Callahan came towards Billy, guiding him towards the safety of his patrol car.

Billy watched as Hopper brought Colette from her own house, hands tucked behind her back, bound by cuffs. Her eyes caught his, and she spoke her last words as a free woman. “I’m sorry.”

After that night Billy’s life was never the same.

—

Colette had been taken directly to the Indiana State Females Prison, where she would undoubtedly be incarcerated for the remainder of her life. The media had blown up her story, portraying her as a horrible girl, much to Billy’s disgust. Billy had spent the days following Colette’s arrest alone in his room, seeking eternal solitude. If not for Max stepping up, he would have wasted away.

Max sat with Billy while he cried, his heart aching to hold the one he loved one last time. He tried to convince himself that she didn’t do those terrible things, that one day she would be back in his arms. “You just have to cherish those eight months with her Billy.” Max had said. She tried to see the positive - If there really was any, in the situation.

Her friends had mocked her for taking time away from the to comfort her brother. But each time one of the boys made a snide comment, she defended Billy, as well as Colette, believing that there was some good within her, to have affected Billy like she did. “I wish you would’ve gotten to meet her.” Billy had said. “You would’ve liked her. She was strange.” That caused them to both smile.

As Colette’s trial began, Billy became detached from reality - Save for his little sister. He never answered when Tommy called. He looked the other way when Tina or Carole tried to speak to him. Billy just didn’t care.

Against Max’s wishes Billy kept up with Colette’s trial, listening in on the radio for updates. There were no witnesses, and little to no evidence. She had burned up all the murder weapons - The cigarettes, and her mother had gotten the tree cut down. The piece of glass that Michael Fahringer had used to defend himself had vanished. And Jeremy Schwerer was living off of a life-support machine. The only things that the police had hanging over Colette was her confession, and probable cause. Her mother refused to testify. Besides Mel, she had no other family.

The trial continued on for weeks, when it shouldn’t have. Billy hated to admit it, but Colette was indubitably guilty. It all added up. There were no weekend seminars at Indiana University. The fact that every time Colette visited Indianapolis, a murder happened lined up. There was no escaping her fate. She was guilty.

There were three days left before the jury reached a verdict. Max was in the kitchen, attempting to complete her homework, while Billy sat on the couch, desperately waiting for any word on the trial to come in. The phone rang, startling them both. Max answered, as Billy didn’t even give a second thought to the sound. “Hello?”

“Hi, is Billy home?” It was Hopper.

“Yeah, he’s right here, let me get him.” She held her palm over the receiver. “Billy, phone.”

Billy got up, emotionlessly walking to take the phone from Max. “Hello?”

“Hey kid, it’s Jim Hopper.” The chief paused, sighing longingly. “I hate to ask you this, but the prosecutor of Colette’s trial called me, he wanted to see if you’d testify tomorrow. You don’t have to do this, but I wanted to ask.”

Billy’s heart leapt out of his chest. “I don’t want to testify.” The words came out of his mouth before he could react. He was telling the truth, he really did not want to testify. “I do have something to say though.” That was also the truth. Max had helped to teach Billy about the differences between healthy and unhealthy coping mechanisms. Some healthy ones being: write down your feelings, scream into a pillow, workout, hang out with friends. And unhealthy ones being: breaking things, hurting yourself or others, not talking about things, being alone on purpose.

“What do you mean kid?”

“I wrote something. Something about Colette, I think I’d like the jury to hear it.” Hopper sighed on the other end. “I don’t know if it would sway them one way or the other, but I think it’s worth them listening to.”

Hopper nodded, though Billy couldn’t see it. “Let me call the prosecutor and I’ll get back to you.” Billy hung up. Hopper called back a few hours later, after Billy had gone to bed. Max picked up, and agreed to pass the message on to Billy.

The prosecutor said that the judge would allow Billy to speak the Colette’s sentencing. Although she most likely wouldn’t be in the room at the time he read his letter. Billy, sleepily complied, mentally preparing himself for the mental torture he would endure in the next few days.

—

Billy sat on a bench.

The room around him was stuffy. His head throbbed, and every time he blinked it felt like his left eye was going to fall out of his head. When his father had heard that Billy had been dating a serial killer, even though Billy didn’t actually know it, Neil felt it necessary to teach his son a lesson for being so damn stupid. He punished him again when he found out that Billy was speaking at her sentencing.

The punishment was a swollen eye and a busted lip.

He looked at his watch. Three hours had passed. Three excruciatingly long hours.

The trial shouldn’t have even taken that long. There was no doubt that Colette had committed the crimes. There was substantial evidence, she admitted to doing it. So why was Billy still there? There was a correct answer to his question. He had been called upon by the law.

When he received the call at home, he could hardly believe what they were asking of him. They wanted him to go to court, in front of one-hundred people, and testify against the person he loved? He couldn’t. He wouldn’t. And yet, here he was.

“The jury would like to call upon William Hargrove.” Billy sighed, standing up and walking towards the podium. He stood before the judge, and a police deputy came beside him, the Holy Bible in hand. “Mr. Hargrove, do you swear, with your right hand to God, that you will be telling the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth?”

He gnawed at the healing cut on his lip. This went against everything he believed. “I swear.” He slapped his hand onto the book. The deputy guided him to a chair, seated on the podium. He looked around. To his right sat the jury, twelve stone-faced citizens of Hawkins. In front of him sat a crowd of spectators, the only familiar face being police chief Jim Hopper. To his left was the attorney responsible for putting Colette away, and at a table beside him, the one responsible for getting her out.

“Does anyone have any questions for Mr. Hargrove?” The judge spoke.

Billy spent the next two hours answering questions. He didn’t really understand what the importance of ninety-nine percent of them were, but he answered, to the fullest of his ability, with the truth. “Mr. Hargrove, do you have anything to say before you are dismissed?”

“Actually, yes, your honor. I do.” He pulled a piece of folded paper from out of his pocket. It had seen better days. “I wrote something, if you don’t mind me reading it.”

“Go right ahead.”

Billy breathed in.

“Ladies and gentlemen of the court, I did not write this letter to persuade you one way or another, but simply because I felt this needed to be said - I have never met anyone like Colette before. I know she is different. She doesn’t feel like the rest of us do, she didn’t experience pain, or sadness, or remorse until lately. That’s just how she is. There is a greater, stronger force, deep inside of her that helped her do these things. We all have a force, but most of us have better control over it. I know this, because I have felt that way for the majority of my adult life. My force is strong, but I can be stronger. Colette was not.

In the time I spent with Colette, I have never been happier. Correction - I have never been happy. It sounds weird, the thought of an unhappy person finding joy within the likes of someone who doesn’t even experience emotion at all, but it’s true. Colette helped me to realize things I had never dreamed of. She taught me so much. Rolling your own cigarettes is the safest way to smoke, how to read the sun, and so many bullshit chemical reactions, I can’t even keep track of them.

But the most important thing she taught me, the one thing that has been with me since the day we met, is that everybody deserves a place in this world, and the next. And I know, it seems ironic considering the fact that she killed a bunch of people, but she’s right. Everyone deserves someone. Everyone deserves somewhere.

Dear jury, no matter the verdict, if you do nothing else, keep these words with you.

And to Colette, no matter how your story ends. I hope you get what you wanted. I hope you get what you need. - Warmth, closure, and a soft place to land.”

@harduy

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