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ipuckwithhockey · 3 years

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History Repeats Itself- B. Boeser

a/n: This somehow ended up being around 11k words, so I hope y’all enjoy it! Also, I only did a quick scan for grammar and spelling so sorry if there are errors!

summary: You and Brock met once back in college when you were still committed to your high school boyfriend. Years later you’re single and older and just starting a new job in Vancouver. The only question now is whether or not you will take the opportunity to rewrite your own history.

warnings: None that I can think of

“So, are you in or no?” Y/N’s roommate asks her as they walk out of the library and toward their dorm.

“I don’t think so Mags, I actually have some studying to catch up on.” You reply unconvincingly. Midterms of your first semester at the University of North Dakota just came to a close, and your excuse of having homework on a Friday night wasn’t convincing anyone.

“Y/N, seriously? You aced all of your midterms and we just spent three hours in the fucking library! Live a little! The hockey team is having a huge party, and the guys are really fun AND super hot! You deserve this!” Maggie tries to convince you to come out to a party that the UND Hockey team is having tonight, and you tell yourself not to give in.

“Maggie, I have a boyfriend. And you know they don’t let guys who aren’t on the team into their parties. God, it’s basically a frat.” You scoff at the idea of a frat party, but there’s still a small part of you that wants to experience the chaos of a real college party. That’s probably why it ends up being so easy for Maggie to convince you to slip into a pair of skinny jeans and a cute top before embarking on a night out.

“Y/N, this is Nick and Brock. They’re both in my econ class. Nick is a sophomore, but Brock here is a freshman like us!” Maggie happily introduces you to the two tall boys as you enter an old musty house, full to the brim with college kids. The air smells like stale alcohol and you take note that your shoes are somehow already sticky. You’re not sure if it’s from something you stepped in or if it’s just the floor in general.

“Hey, nice to meet you.” You shake Brock’s hand that he’s extended for you and you can’t help but stare a little too long, taking in his blonde hair and ocean-blue eyes.

You had to admit though, Katie was right, these guys are super hot. You can already tell your roommate has her eye on this Nick guy, and it actually looks like he might be interested in her too. He’s just her type— He’s hot and he knows it, and his dark hair and striking features draw the eyes of nearly every girl in the room. The blonde boy who stands across from you is quite honestly the opposite of Nick. Brock is also undeniably good-looking, but he’s shy and his light hair and soft smile make him seem less intimidating than his friend.

Nick finds you and Katie some drinks and some other girls you’ve become friends with show up to the party a little later. The boys come and go as they mingle with other people and their teammates, but Nick tends to stay close by to Maggie and you catch glimpses of Brock occasionally. Apparently his shyness doesn’t apply to his teammates. You can’t help but chuckle as you watch him and his friends dance together to some shitty remix of a song you used to blast on your way to school. You’re actually having a great time, but you can’t hear your phone ringing over the music that’s blaring through the house you’re in. Later, Nick offers to walk you and Maggie home after a few hours of living like a real college kid, and Brock ends up tagging along since he apparently lives in the same building.

“So, how come we haven’t met you before tonight? This one talks about you all the time.” The four of you are walking across campus and Nick has Maggie under his arm as he asks why you never seem to be with your roommate.

“She has a boyfriend. And I’m pretty sure he’s allergic to having fun.” Maggie quips as some of the alcohol she’s consumed tonight gives her the courage to openly criticize your relationship.

“Maggie.” You say in a warning tone. “He’s just not a big partier, and usually I’m not either.” You shove at her shoulder lightly. Maggie was nice and you liked being her roommate, but when you first met and told her you had followed your high school boyfriend across the country to attend a university in “North fucking Dakota” she immediately expressed how crazy she thought you were. In her eyes there was no way that a couple who started dating when they were fifteen would last forever. You disagreed, which is why you turned down your scholarship to an ivy league and followed your boyfriend to North Fucking Dakota. His family was from North Dakota, and for some reason everyone in their family had to go to school there too. At the time, you didn’t see it as giving something up, you saw it as you and your boyfriend starting a life together outside the confines of your hometown.

“So, what floor do you live on, Brock?” Maggie asks as the four of you make your way up to your building.

“I’m on 4— Room 405. What about you guys?” Brock asks back.

“We’re 219.” You say back before you’re startled as you hear another voice you’re not exactly expecting.

“Y/N! Where the hell have you been?” The group you’re with is almost to the doors of your dorm building when a perturbed voice yells for you.

“Uh- Owen. What are you doing here?” You’re surprised to see your boyfriend standing in front of you, looking like he’s seeing red. You weren’t even supposed to be seeing him at all tonight. He had told you he was going to be occupied for the evening while he was studying for his physics exam. You hadn’t told him you were going to the party, but at the time you didn’t think it was important. Owen preferred that you didn’t bother him while he was studying, so you decided against calling him before your night out.

“I’ve been calling you for like two hours— God have you been drinking?” The rest of the group you were with tonight looks uncomfortable to say the least, and you can’t blame them. Owen wasn’t the best at saving face, especially when he felt like someone hadn’t upheld the standards that he had set out for them. Now he just looked like a dad reprimanding their child, and a wave of embarrassment quickly washed over you.

“I just- We went to a party. I didn’t think you’d mind. You were supposed to be studying all night,” You say sheepishly, as you begin to regret letting Maggie convince you to go out. Before Owen can clap back again, Maggie nudges you and tells you that the three of them are going to go, not wanting to invade on your private life any longer.

When they’re gone, Owen starts again, “This just isn’t like you. I’m so disappointed.” You feel bad now, you know you haven’t done anything wrong, but Owen’s words make you feel like you have, so you tuck your tail between your legs as follow him back to his dorm and apologize for what you did.

That was almost five years ago. You dated Owen for longer than you’d like to admit but eventually you removed your rose-colored glasses and broke up with him. You graduated from UND and got a second chance at your Ivy League dreams when went to graduate school. Now, you’ve completed your masters and have been offered a promotion at you job. The only catch was that the new position required you to move to the west coast… of Canada.

You moved almost two months ago, and your raise was enough to allow you to move into a nice building downtown. Work takes up most of your time now, so you haven’t been able to explore the city as much as you would like, but you can already tell your decision to make Vancouver your new home was a good one. The laid back and easy feeling you get from this city is completely different from the big east coast metropolis you had been living in before, and even though you’re working more than ever, you feel like you can actually breathe here.

Since your breakup with Owen your senior year at UND, you’ve taken time to take back your life. You try your best not to ponder on the past anymore, and you focus on your own future. It can’t be denied that at first it was hard not to remain bitter at the idea that you had so willingly given up many things in your life, for a boy who took them too eagerly. You worked through it though and took back your life by focusing on your own goals and working on furthering your own career. The past is the past now, and you were ready to start this new life in Vancouver.

“I actually can’t believe you’re wearing that.” Elias mocks at Brock as they step out of the elevator and into the lobby of Brock’s apartment building. Brock is sporting a bucket hat, and even though he knows Elias is joking, he wonders if he shouldn’t have just left the hat sitting on his kitchen counter. The two of them are bickering back and forth about their fashion choices, and Brock almost misses you as you walk past him. Almost. He recognizes you immediately even though your hair is longer, and your face doesn’t look so much like a kid’s anymore.

“Hey, nice to meet you.” Brock extends his hand, hoping he doesn’t seem too nervous to the pretty girl he has just been introduced to. He’s a freshman, and a star on the UND hockey team, which kind of makes him North Dakotan royalty. Since starting college, he’s learned what to say and how to say it, to get a girl’s attention, but he’s not the overly confident guy that his friend, Nick is. Nick lays it on thick and loves the attention he gets. Brock likes it, it’s fun, but he’s more laid back, and not as worried about getting the girl. He just likes to have a good time with his friends and doesn’t really need all of the extra attention.

He would however like to have your attention. He makes some friendly conversation with you over the course of the night, but you stick close to your girlfriends, and he can’t tell if you’re not interested or if you just aren’t catching what he’s putting down.

Later that night, when Nick tells Brock that he is going to walk you and your roommate home, he’s quick to tag along. Even though he lives in the same building, he probably would have stayed at the party a little longer if you hadn’t been going with them. On the walk across campus, the four of you make some small talk, and Brock knows that Nick definitely thinks he’s getting laid tonight.

Brock can’t help but hope that Nick getting laid will mean you will need a hideout for a couple hours while your roommate occupies your shared room. Even though he’d happily accept it, he doesn’t think he’ll be getting laid. Brock just hopes that he’ll have some time to get to know you a little bit better, maybe get your number, and then eventually ask you out. It’s right then that Nick asks why they’ve never met you.

“She has a boyfriend. And I’m pretty sure he’s allergic to having fun.” Maggie replies, and Brock can’t help but be disappointed. You had a boyfriend. So it wasn’t that you weren’t interested, well it was, but it was only because you were already taken. Maybe you had even caught on to his light flirting, and he can’t help but think how embarrassing that is.

This embarrassment honestly wasn’t as bad as what was to come next. Brock isn’t sure if his secondhand embarrassment is worse than the embarrassment that you’re probably feeling as the guy, who is presumably your boyfriend, yells at you for going to a party. He can tell that you’re trying to play it cool, you’re definitely uncomfortable with scene that is unfolding. Brock isn’t sure what to do, and him and Nick exchange a few quick glances as to say, “what the fuck?” And next, he’s incredibly thankful that Maggie steps in to tell you that they’re going to head into the building.

“What the fuck was that?” Nick asks as the three of them get out of earshot from you and Owen.

“Meet Owen, the illustrious high school boyfriend.” Maggie’s sarcasm is clear, and Brock is surprised that someone who seems so sweet could be dating a guy like that.

That hockey party his first semester at UND was the last time Brock spoke to you. He left after his sophomore year when he signed with the Canucks and before he left, when he would see you on campus, you were usually with the jerk he only briefly encountered that first night. When you would pass him in the hallway of your dorm or even around campus you would usually avoid meeting his eye or offer one of those awkward tight-lipped smiles. Brock would always smile back, and he would wonder if you were actually happy with that guy, and occasionally he would tell himself that he could make you happier.

You felt bad as you essentially avoided him for the first few weeks after that party, but it got easier as time went on. The two of you barely knew each other, but for some reason every time that you did pass him, you were still enamored by his kind eyes and generous smile that only made you feel worse for avoiding him. Over time your friends, like Maggie, would eventually fall to the waste side too as your boyfriend continued to control your life. Maggie stopped asking you to hang out and when you moved in with Owen after your freshman year, you basically lost all connection with her. Everyone probably thought that you were a massive bitch because they perceived your actions as you choosing your boyfriend over them. They weren’t wrong, but you didn’t know at the time, that your priorities were extremely misguided.

Brock’s little crush was soon forgotten when he dove headfirst into the NHL. He was busy trying to establish himself in the league, and he found himself in a few lackluster relationships that usually ended in a mutual agreement that it just wasn’t working. He was a good guy, and even though he wasn’t a saint, he preferred to get to know a girl and take her to dinner before anything else. The girls he dated usually fell pretty hard for him. He’s unmistakably attractive and his endearing personality make him incredibly charming. They knew that they couldn’t hold on to him forever and that he didn’t want to hurt them, so they let him go and hoped that they would find another guy that was half as good.

Seeing you now is like a breath of fresh air for Brock; his little crush immediately rising to the surface after being buried away for so long.

“Y/N?” Brock lightly touches you on your arm to get your attention. You’re lost in the email you’re replying to on your phone, and you’re more than surprised when you turn to see the same light blue eyes that you met your freshman year of college.

“Brock?” It’s the only thing that your brain can formulate right now. Brock Boeser is probably the only person you know in Vancouver and yet he’s standing in front of you right now. You haven’t seen or spoken to him in years, and you can’t believe that he even remembers you.

“Hey, I thought that was you.” Brock says, as Elias notices the big smile that’s plastered across his friend’s face. “What are you doing in Vancouver?” Brock asks, wondering how a girl from the east coast who went to school in North Dakota, somehow ended up in Vancouver.

“I um- I live here. I just moved for my job a couple months ago,” You tell him.

“Oh, no way! Vancouver’s great, I’m sure you’ll love it here.” He replies, still taking in the fact that you’re standing in front of him.

“Yeah, I like it so far,” you say. “Do you live here? – Or I guess, in the building?” You ask. You know that he lives in Vancouver, you’re aware of his hockey career, but you’ve lived here for a couple months and have never seen him around.

“Yeah, I’ve been back in Minnesota for most of the summer, so I just got back a couple days ago.” He tells you. You never really put much thought into where athletes go after their season ends, but it makes sense that they would go back to wherever they call home.

Elias nudges Brock to remind him that he’s still standing awkwardly beside him. “Oh, this is Petey,” Brock turns to introduce you to his friend that you already recognize, “It’s Elias, nice to meet you.” Elias says as he offers his hand to you.

“Yeah, I know.” You let out a light laugh and think about all of the Vancouver Canucks posters you’ve seen him on throughout the city. You’ve seen posters of Brock too, but you barely even know the guy, so it’s never really struck you as anything out of the ordinary.

“Are you a Canucks fan?” Elias asks.

You laugh a little, “Oh, no. I don’t follow hockey or really any sports, but everyone at work does, so I’ve been trying to learn a bit about it to keep up with the water cooler conversations.” You laugh again because it’s true. You’ve never really been tuned into sports, but your new office is basically all men, and they’re all huge Canucks fans, so your google searches of the team’s stats and roster have helped you become familiar with the team before their season starts.

“Well, you’ll have to come to a game some time.” Brock tells you.

“Um yeah. Maybe.” You offer back, mentally debating on if that would ever actually happen, but knowing that he’s only being polite. “I um- I’ve actually got to go, but it was great running into you.” You smile, and say goodbye to the two blonde boys and make your way up to your apartment.

Brock Boeser lives in your building. Again. You laugh, thinking about how funny it is that history is repeating itself. He’s just as cute as he was the first time you met, but the truth is you barely know each other, and you’re sure he remembers that you were probably a massive bitch in college who avoided him at all costs. You don’t let the thought of him linger too long and push it to the side to get on the realities of your life instead of continuing to mull over the past.

Over the next month or so, you continue to run into Brock in the elevator or in the lobby of your building. He always says hi and greets you with the same sweet smile. You make polite conversation and he’s so charming sometimes that it makes you blush. It starts off with awkward hellos and goodbyes, then you start to make small talk, and soon enough conversation between the two of you becomes pretty effortless. His little jokes are usually so dumb, but they make you laugh and you truly appreciate that he’s always so nice. You start to open up a bit more and aren’t as hesitant when he asks you innocent questions about your life.

You got to meet Coolie and Milo the other day, and Brock says that they are particularly fond of you. They both seem to be the sweetest dogs in the world, so you’re sure they’re just as good for everyone else. You see them ever so often when Brock takes them on walks around town, and he loves the way your eyes light up when you see his furry kids.

Brock usually asks you how work is going, even though your advanced corporate job goes way over his head, and you ask him about hockey, which you also have little to no knowledge of. You both usually give short and uninteresting answers like “great” or “it’s going.” Then, just as Brock is trying to find more ways to get to know you, you tell him that you’ve been trying to educate yourself more on hockey. You explain that you primarily work with men, and these men happen to be very keyed in on the sport and particularly on the Vancouver Canucks. Now, every time he sees you, he asks you what you’ve learned.

Your conversations are still fairly short, but you tell him when you’ve finally learned all of the NHL team names, and understand each of the hockey positions. You explain some of the penalties and you’re pretty proud of yourself when your explanation of offsides gets an approval. When he asks you who you’ve decided your favorite player is, you tell him you like “that Boeser kid,” but not as much as you like Elias Pettersson. This gets a big laugh from him, and he tells you he doesn’t disagree with your analysis. This is a turning point for the two of you. Brock can tell that you’re becoming more comfortable with him, and he likes seeing this lighter side of you.

One day when you pass him in the parking lot, he’s on his way to a game, dressed in suit, but with a beanie on his head. You’ve seen him like this a number of times before, and you really don’t understand why he insists on covering up his beautiful hair with various hats. You also don’t mind admiring how good he looks in his game day apparel. He’s good looking, and it’s not a crime to admire that.

As you walk toward each other in the parking lot he calls out to you, “Hey, you learn anything new this week?” You laugh, because he usually starts the conversation like this, asking if you’ve studied up or done your homework.

“Actually, I have a question for you.” You tell him as you come up, stopping before you would pass each other.

“Okay, shoot.” He says.

“Well, that’s actually your job, but my question has to do with goalie interference. I just don’t really understand it. I was trying to find videos of calls during games, but all of the calls seem kind of inconsistent.” You tell him, and he laughs at your shooting joke, leaving you feeling proud for a moment. He’s also laughing because you’re right. No one fucking knows what goalie interference is.

“Yeah, I’m not even sure what goalie interference is half the time. But if you figure it out let me know!” He answers. You laugh, and the two of you begin to part ways.

Before he makes it to his car you shout back, “Oh, Good luck tonight!”

He smiles and thanks you before opening his car door and on his way to the rink he thinks about all of the little conversations the two of you have had over the course of last couple of months. His crush has only continued to grow, and Elias keeps nagging him to ask you out, but he’s not even sure if you’re single. With his luck, you’re probably married to that asshole from college, although he hasn’t noticed you with anyone and he hasn’t seen a ring on your finger.

After that night Brock decided he needed to figure out if you were single or not, so that he could move on from his infatuation with you instead of wasting his time pining over a girl who was already taken. You’re always polite, and more recently you’ve become more and more comfortable joking and bantering with him, but sometimes you give him a look like you’re not sure what to say.

That look is the look you get when you contemplate how you got here. Years ago, you couldn’t have fathomed having a simple conversation with Brock, but now you see him on a regular basis and make conversation like you’ve been friends for years. You appreciate his willingness to talk with you, and you enjoy your interactions more and more every day.

Brock knows that on Sunday morning you usually go for a walk down to the coffee shop on the corner, so today he grabs Coolie and Milo and heads for the door, hoping he’ll be lucky enough to run into you. He makes it all the way to the coffee shop without seeing you and he’s praying that when he opens the door to the store that you’ll be waiting inside.

No such luck.

When he doesn’t see you standing inside, he decides he should at least buy a coffee instead of awkwardly walking out. After he picks up his drink he walks across the street to the park so that Coolie and Milo can get some exercise. For some reason, the gods are on his side today, and a few minutes into his walk he sees you sitting on a bench under a tree, reading a book.

He doesn’t get to secretly admire how pretty you look sitting there, with the sun streaming down through the limbs of the trees, because Milo and Coolie have spotted you and are actively dragging him in your direction. You’re stirred from your reading and when you look up you see two big fur balls running toward you, their owner not far behind them.

“Hey! Sorry about them.” Brock apologizes as he tries to calm the dogs down. You’re laughing and smiling because Coolie has jumped up on the bench beside you. Brock tells them to get down as they continue to try and jump for your attention, and they eventually settle at his side.

“It’s fine, I don’t mind at all. I feel the same way when I see them,” you say, and it gets a light chuckle from Brock. He loves that you get so excited to see them and he cherishes the way your eyes light up when you reach down to pet them. He’s not sure what to say now, and before the silence gets too awkward you ask him if he wants to sit while motioning to the spot next to you. He gladly accepts your offer, and he sits down next to you.

“What are you reading?” He asks, attempting to facilitate some conversation.

You turn over the book in your hand so that he can see the cover, “It’s called Normal People.” You say before giving him a brief description. You also tell him it’s a series on Hulu and he says he’ll opt to watch that instead of reading the book, earning another laugh from you.

“So, did you leave the boyfriend behind or did you bring him with you?” He asks referring to some of the plot points of the book you had described to him. The question surprises you because one, there wasn’t a boyfriend, and two, why would Brock think there was a boyfriend? Your mind works fast enough to figure he might think that you’re still with Owen, but over the last couple months you don’t think you’ve given him any reason to think you would still be with him.

“Neither I guess. I didn’t have a boyfriend to leave or bring.” You answer, looking over at Brock. You’re sure you almost hear what sounds like a sigh of relief from him, but it happened too quickly to tell.

“I guess you and that guy from college didn’t work out?” Brock asks cautiously. He’s trying not to seem too eager, but he’s dying to know what ever happened between you and that jerk.

You let out a light laugh as you think back to your previous relationship, “No, it definitely didn’t work out.” You say back. “We were obviously super young; we started dating when we were fifteen,” you sigh. “Anyway, I think it just took some time to realize I wasn’t going to marry a guy I thought was cute in my 9th grade biology class. We just didn’t have anything in common anymore. And he turned out to be a total jerk.” It feels surprisingly easy talking to Brock about this. You’ve felt so much shame and embarrassment for staying with this guy from high school for so long, but Brock’s eyes don’t convey any judgement or reason to feel ashamed.

After that you gracefully shift the conversation to Brock’s love life. It was only fair, and when you asked him if he had a special lady- or man in his life, his cheeks flushed a deep shade of red. It isn’t because you asked him if he was perhaps seeing a man, but because he was just so flustered by you and your questioning of his love life at all.

“Nope. No ladies... Or men for that matter.” He says with a little laugh.

“Really? A star hockey player like you doesn’t have girls lined up waiting for their chance to be with you?” You tease, as you can see, he’s still blushing a bit. You don’t think much of it, other than that he’s probably just shy about those things, but you don’t really feel too bad about teasing him. He continues to convince you that there aren’t any other ladies in his life, and eventually the topic of conversation is forgotten.

Brock walks back to the apartment building with you, and when you get in the elevator you remember that you’re going to be attending a Canucks game next week, “I almost forgot! I’m going to the Preds game next week!” You tell him, and his expression lights up hearing you say that you’ll be attending one of his games. “Some of the guys from work invited me to go with them. I think I’ve really won them over with my new hockey knowledge,” You tell him proudly.

Some of the guys from work who are particularly invested in the hockey team invited you to come with them to a game, and you happily accepted the invitation. You had proven yourself to them as a colleague and now as a hockey fan too.

“I guess we’ll have to get a win for you guys.” Brock replies confidently. The Canucks have had a great record lately and it looks like their winning streak is just getting started. “You better!” You say before the elevator stops on your floor and you tell him you’ll see him later, leaving Brock to think about everything he’s learned about you that morning.

It’s Thursday, and this week has been hell.

Sadly, you’re used to dedicating most of your time to work, but this week has been a total shit show, for lack of better words. A big account you’ve been working on decided at the last minute that they wanted something completely different, causing you and your team to have to work some crazy hours this week. By Thursday you’re practically a zombie due to your lack of sleep. The hours you have spent at home have been minimal, as you’ve gotten home past ten almost every night this week, and you leave in the morning again before 7.

The guys on your team have all been working crazy hours too, but you’ve been taking the lead on this campaign, so you’ve made sure to be there early and late every single day. They can tell you’re just about out of gas, and they send you home early, telling you to rest up for the big presentation tomorrow. You try to argue, but they’re right, you need a break. You surrender and head home after stopping to get some takeout, knowing that your fridge at home is starkly empty.

“Ms.Y/L/N, I’ve got a package for you.” Paul, the concierge of your building tells you as you pass him on your way to the elevators. You haven’t made any online purchases as of late, and you don’t remember anyone telling you they were sending you anything. Still, you wait patiently as he goes to the back room to grab it. When Paul returns he’s holding a decent sized shopping bag. You’re not sure what it could be, but you take the bag and thank him, too focused on getting up to your apartment and out of your work pants.

As soon as the door to your apartment is closed behind you, you drop your bags onto the kitchen counter and slip out of your dress pants. Your bra follows shortly, and you settle into your couch with your take out. The rest of your evening is spent lounging on the couch, catching up on your shitty reality tv shows and taking a break from work. When you look down at your phone and see that it’s only 8:30 you tell yourself it’s too early to go to bed, but you’re exhausted and you bed is calling to you. As you gather your dishes and clean up your kitchen you’re reminded of the package you picked up on your way in.

The bag is still sitting on the counter where you left it a few hours ago. You take a minute to think about what it could be or who it could be from, but nothing comes to mind. When you open the bag all you see is some blue fabric. It feels like clothes, so you dump it over on to your counter and come to find that the bag is full of what looks like Vancouver Canucks gear. You’re in surprised to say the least. There are multiple pieces of clothing laying in front of you, and you’re sure it’s at least a few hundred dollars worth of apparel. There’s a note too, but you choose to look through the other contents first.

First off, there’s a navy blue hoodie with the classic Cancuks logo. There are two t-shirts, one has the Canucks throwback logo on it and the other has the pride logo printed on the front. You smile at that, knowing that he obviously knew you would like that one. Next, is a Canucks beanie with a pompom on the top. Finally, you unfold a royal blue jersey. You’re expecting to see a number six on the back but instead your eyes land on the number 40. You can’t help but feel a little sad for a minute, knowing he didn’t get you a jersey with his number on it.

Alas, you unfold the piece of paper that was sitting in the bottom of the bag and it reads:

I figured you might need some gear for the game Saturday. I hope everything fits okay.

If you ever need anything I’m Apt. 859, *his phone number*

-Brock

P.S. Petey insisted that I include his jersey since he’s “your favorite.”

You don’t feel as bad about it not being a Boeser jersey now, and you use a magnet to hang the note up on your fridge before folding your new gear and heading to bed, grinning ear to ear.

Your presentation goes off without a hitch the next day and you and your coworkers are ready to let loose a bit for the Cancuks game the following evening. You meet up with them at a bar that’s not far from the arena, and you grab a round of drinks before you head into the game. The four co-workers you meet up with take note of your Pettersson jersey, and you smile, satisfied with their praises. A couple of them are sporting jerseys too, one with Horvat and the other with a Boeser. You don’t mention that you know the guy who actually wears number 6, and when he scores the game winning goal you cheer just as loud as everyone else, but secretly you’d like to think it was because he knew you were there in the stands.

When you get home after the game you shoot Brock a quick text.

You: nice goal tonight! i think this pettersson jersey is lucky! (10:54pm)

You: this is y/n btw (10:54pm)

You’re not sure if he’ll reply so you set your phone down and start to go through your nightly routine. A few minutes later you hear your phone buzz from your night stand.

Brock: petey didn’t even score tonight and you’re still talking about him? maybe i’ll just take that jersey back (11:01pm)

You: hey, no take backs. but it was a very nice goal! (11:03pm)

Brock: how was your first game? (11:07pm)

You: my second favorite player scored, my team won, and my co-workers were impressed with my vast hockey knowledge so i’d say it went pretty well! (11:13pm)

You spend some time debating on how to word your message, not wanting to send a reply too fast, and not wanting to seem to flirty, but you still let yourself tease him a little bit more before hitting send.

Brock: HAHA. very funny. (11:14pm)

Brock: i’m glad you had a good time. (11:14pm)

Brock: we’ll have to get you to more games. it looks like you might be good luck. (11:15pm)

Sunday morning is your time to relax. You try not to do any work and opt to take some time for yourself. This can take many forms, like lounging around the house or even reorganizing your bathroom. Today you opt for baking. You bake a couple dozen brownies and place them in a container before slipping on some shoes to head up a few floors.

You hadn’t given it much thought until you were standing outside of his apartment door, but the two really only interact in the hallways or elevator and you’ve never been to each other’s apartments. The brownies in your hand are probably getting colder by the minute, and you know they taste the best when they’re still warm so you convince yourself to bring your knuckles to the door.

The person who answers the door isn’t Brock. The boy who answers is shorter and has dark hair. You recognize him as Quinn Hughes. Brock told you once that they call him huggy bear, but you’re not totally sure you know why.

“Uh-“ There aren’t words coming out of his mouth, it’s more like an awkward sound that you think it is meant to convey some sort of confusion.

“Um, Is Brock here?” You ask, offering a smile to the boy in front of you.

“Oh, yeah. Um, come on in.” Quinn doesn’t really know if he should be letting someone into his friends apartment, but Brock made him answer the door so he didn’t feel so bad about inviting a stranger in.

You walk through the door and take in Brock’s home. It’s similar to yours, but slightly bigger. He lives on a different side of the building so the windows are slightly different too. You follow Quinn into the living room where you see Elias and Brock and Jake Virtanen sitting on the couch playing video games. The dogs notice you first as you walk in and Quinn nudges Brock telling him someone is here for him before he turns around to see you.

“Y/N! To what do we owe the pleasure?” He asks as he stands from the couch.

“I uh, I just wanted to bring you these. I figured it’s the least I could do since you got me that lucky Pettersson jersey.” He lets out a solid laugh at that. You liked it when he laughed like that. He lets his head hang back and his hand rests on his stomach.

“Well thank you. You really didn’t have to do that.” He says as you hand him the box of brownies. He walks over to the kitchen counter and pulls the lid off. The smell of freshly baked brownies starts to fill the room, and the other boys are at the counter before you know it.

“Oh shit. Those look good.” Jake says as he eyes the baked goods.

The boys are quiet for the next couple minutes except for some humming and “yum” sounds that escape between bites. A couple dozen brownies is apparently no match for four hockey players. You swear half the box vanishes in front of your eyes as they compliment you on your baking abilities. You mentally thank your mom for the perfected family recipe that you practically have memorized. They make friendly conversation, besides Quinn who has remained rather quiet, except for offering a few side comments or sounds of agreement. Eventually Elias asks you more about how your first game hockey game went.

Elias is observant and incredibly well spoken, and he’s making what could have been an awkward situation a very pleasant one. He guides most of the conversation as Brock becomes more comfortable with the dynamic of you being there with his other friends. It’s cute how close Brock and Elias are. Even just standing in the kitchen you can tell the two of them have a bond that’s different than the ones between the other boys. Brock is sometimes shy and blushy when the two of you talk, but with his friends he’s more bold and sure of himself.

The small talk is getting thin, and you’re about to politely end the conversation and tell them you should go when Jake asks how you and Brock know each other. You don’t know why you hesitate, but you do, and you look at Brock who is standing next to you. Before you can decide how to answer Brock replies simply, “We went to UND together back in the day.”

“I guess we don’t really know each other very well, but we had some mutual friends.” You try to add and clarify.

“Oh cool,” Jake replies, not really giving it much thought. “So are you liking the city so far?” he asks.

“I like it a lot , I just haven’t had a lot of free time outside of work to explore. But, my co-workers finally like me since I know all about hockey now, and the one girl in our office is my best and only friend!” You laugh at yourself a bit, because you know it sounds a little sad that you’re a young twenty-something with zero signs of a social life. It earns some laughs from the guys too.

“You should come out with us next weekend, you gotta experience Vancouver’s night life! Plus, we’re celebrating my dog’s birthday!” Jake exclaims, and you can see Elias rolling his eyes and Brock and Quinn are both laughing while shaking their heads.

You look between the boys, a bit confused, “Your what? Your dog’s birthday?”

Jake laughs too when you seem so confused about it, “It seemed like a good excuse to go out. Gotta keep it loose, ya know?” He seems serious about this and you can’t help but laugh. The guys explain that they don’t get out too often during the season, and some of them don’t even like going out, but sometimes it’s good to just let loose with the boys. Jake is one who particularly enjoys a good night out, and so occasionally when the boys haven’t frequented a bar in a while, he comes up with “reasons to celebrate.” Elias sounds like a dad when he says that they all just go along with it to make Jake happy, and Jake looks like a little kid when he rolls his eyes at them. He’s also quick to make the point that they always end up having a good time.

“You obviously don’t have to come, but I think it’ll be fun, and you should bring your friend. Her name’s Jade, right?” You’ve talked to Brock about Jade a couple times in the past, but you didn’t really think he would have listened that intently or that he would remember your co-workers name. It’s nice knowing that he does.

“Yeah, it’s Jade. I guess I could ask her if she’s free and let you know.” You tell him, still contemplating if you even want to go out to some busy club on a Saturday night.

“So, uh— What are you doing this weekend?” You ask Jade, your co-worker as you walk into her office. She’s the only other girl in your office, and you’ve become good friends over the last few months. Her dark hair and dark features match her bold and strong personality. Jade constantly bugs you to get out more, especially on the weekends, but you usually curb her requests saying that you’re still getting settled into the new city. This excuse was wearing thin since you’ve been here almost four months now, and you knew you would have to give in to her requests soon. Instead, you’ve opted to invite her to go out with Brock and his friends this weekend. Or rather, pray she would go with you because there was no way you were going alone.

“I don’t know, probably nothing because my friend is a loner who doesn’t ever leave her house.” Jade looks over at you with a knowing expression causing you to roll your eyes.

“Your loner friend actually wanted to ask you if you wanted to go out this weekend.” You say mimicking her cadence. “That guy from college who lives in my building is celebrating his friend’s dog’s birthday, so him and some of their friends are all going out.” When you explain why Brock’s friends are going out you realize again just how ridiculous it sounds, and you know it’s not really why they’re going to a bar to get hammered, but you relay the information anyway.

You told Jade about “the guy from college” that you had run into in your apartment building, but you didn’t tell her that the guy was Brock Boeser. You were sure she knew who he was, even if she wasn’t shy with her discontent with sports. She’s just not a sports person, but anyone in Vancouver would immediately recognize the name of one of their biggest players. All you told her was that you had gone to UND together and that you had never really been friends, just that you had mutual friends.

She never asked more about who he was, but she did ask if he was cute. You couldn’t lie, it would be sinful to do so about a man who was as good looking as Brock, so you told her the truth. You also told her how good of a guy he was and that he never hesitates to start a conversation with you. Since then, she has asked for regular updates on your interactions together. Even though you withheld some crucial information, you still told her about how he liked talking about hockey and that he had gotten you some Canucks gear to wear to the game. When you told her about that she insisted that he liked you, and part of you wanted to believe that, but another part of you knew that you and Brock still barely knew each other.

He seems really sweet, but you can’t help but feel like he still has plenty of girls vying for his attention. Girls who are prettier and smarter and nicer than you. When you think back to those brief interactions with him it still gives you a feeling of anxiety. It’s the kind of anxiety that you get when you remember something embarrassing you did as a kid or when you’re trying to fall asleep and you remember that you said “you too” to the barista who said “come again!” Either way, you weren’t convinced that your limited interactions warranted any feelings on either of your parts, so you continued to try to suppress your growing feelings for him.

Luckily, Jade was happy to oblige your request of going out. She asked if your friend had any cute single friends, and while you weren’t quite sure if they were single, you said yes figuring that one of them had to be.

“Y/N, It’s me!” You hear Jade come in through your apartment door that you had left unlocked for her. It’s Saturday night and you’re getting ready to go out with Brock and his teammates. You still haven’t told Jade who he is, and you’re hoping she doesn’t freak out when she finds out.

“I’m in my closet!” You shout back to Jade as she makes her way through your apartment. She finds you sitting inside your walk-in closet, trying to decide what to wear, “I’m having a crisis. I have no idea what I should wear.” You look over at her precisely curated outfit that’s perfect for a night out. She looks hot and it’s just enough to not be overdone. He hair is flawlessly sleek and her make up looks like an artist painted it on.

“Stop moping. You’re just nervous because he’s cute and you like him. Go make us some drinks and I’ll pick out your outfit.” You don’t put up a fight, knowing that she’ll probably be able to piece together a great ensemble that you never would have thought of. Your strengths were probably better suited for making cocktails anyway, so you go to the kitchen and whip up a couple of drinks.

On your way back to your room you turn on your “going out” playlist that hasn’t been touched in ages, and when the first drop of alcohol touches your tongue you automatically feel less anxious. She’s right, you totally have a crush on this guy, and you’re super nervous about going out with him and his friends. What’s worse, is that this was pretty much a pity invite, and him and his friends feel bad that you don’t know anyone else in the city.

Brock’s night was going somewhat similarly to yours. When Elias got to his apartment for the pregame he found Brock standing in only his boxers with a pile of clothes covering his closet floor. Elias couldn’t help but laugh at him. He hasn’t seen Brock act this way about a girl in a long time. Come to think of it, he’s not even sure if he’s ever seen Brock act like this. Brock was sensitive, but he wasn’t anxious like this. He wouldn’t get tied up in things like what to wear or what to say to a girl. He did however, have the issue of falling way too hard way too fast, ending up in situations where girls left him after they got what they wanted. Over the years he’s learned how to guard his heart a bit better, and his friends, Elias especially, were always there to protect him.

Elias likes you. He liked you the minute he met you. He was intuitive and was a good judge of character, which made him and Brock a good pair. Brock has a tendency to trust a little too much, but now Elias is there to help guide him toward the right people. When Brock introduced you to Elias, he could immediately tell that you were a good person. He could see it in your eyes, and in your genuine appreciation that Brock would recognize and say hello to you. Elias liked that you were sprightly enough to make a joke about knowing who he was. Most of all, he liked how Brock talked about you. Elias immediately recognizes when Brock has had a conversation with you before practice or a game. He comes in with a little pep in his step, that causes some of the guys to question if he got laid the night before, but now Elias recognizes that he must have seen you on his way to work. Brock gushes about your interactions and about how cute you are when you explain the hockey things you learn. The day that you told him Elias was your favorite player Brock was so excited to tell him. He wasn’t even mad, he just loved how light hearted willing to joke around you were.

Brock occasionally thinks back on the times he saw you after that first night at UND. He thinks about what would have happened if your boyfriend hadn’t been waiting for you outside of your dorm. It’s not that he thinks he would have gotten lucky or that you would have cheated on your boyfriend with him, it’s just that maybe if you had had a bit more time to get to know each other you could have at least become friends. And maybe that friendship could have grown into something more and you would have broken up with that asshole to be with him. Brock thinks about what could have been, but he also knows that hindsight is 20/20. He doesn’t consider himself a superstitious guy, but he can’t help but think that you came to Vancouver for a reason.

When your wardrobe crisis has been averted, you’re fully dressed in skinny jeans and a cute top that’s revealing enough but doesn’t exactly come right out and say “I want to have your babies right now.” (That’s how Jade described it, anyway.) The two of you have had a round of drinks and you decide that it’s probably an appropriate time to head up to Brock’s. You didn’t want to get there too early and be the only ones there, so you made Jade wait it out in your apartment until it was at least thirty minutes after the time he had said to come.

Brock texted you letting you know the door was unlocked, and when you get out of the elevator you can already hear music playing from behind his door. “I can already feel it. This is going to be fun!” Jade tells you excitedly as you reach out for the doorknob. You laugh thinking about how she has no idea she’s about to be drinking with a bunch of professional hockey players for the night.

When you open the door you see some of the guys you’ve met mulling about, most of them with drinks in their hands. Brock comes up to you almost immediately. Without even thinking he wraps you in a hug, and it feels so natural even though you’ve never had any sort of physical interaction with him. Your suspicions were right, he gives the best hugs, and you wish that you could stand there in his warm arms forever, but it only lasts a second before he’s pulling away and turning his attention to your friend who looks likes she’s surprised to see Brock Boeser hugging her coworker and Elias Pettersson coming up behind him to say hello.

“Okay, you didn’t tell me that “your friend” was Brock fucking Boeser.” She doesn’t even try to whisper it, and it’s kind of what you love about her. She just expresses herself freely, and it’s honestly so funny when she says it. It has Brock’s head falling back as he lets out a laugh.

Brock and Elias introduce you and Jade to the other guys who are in the apartment. There are a couple girlfriends among them and even though they all look like they just walked out of an instagram ad, they all seem genuinely nice and aren’t nearly as intimidating as you thought they would be. You don’t get too much time to mingle before Jake informs the group that the “birthday party” is ready to move to the bars, followed by packing into various Ubers.

When you’re all at the bar, a few other guys show up, some single and definitely ready to mingle, but to your surprise some have even brought their wives. The drinks are flowing and you’re actually having fun. You notice that Jade and Jake have spent a lot of time talking, and he offers to get her a drink before they head off to the bar. You laugh, and shake your head as she turns back to give you wink before heading off with the hockey player.

You turn your attention back to the guys standing around the table, when one of them asks you, “So, how do you two know each other? I feel like somebody said you went to UND?” It’s Brandon Sutter, you didn’t recognize him when Brock first introduced you, seeing as most of the photos you’ve seen of him include a hockey helmet covering most of his face. It’s probably the alcohol— no, it’s definitely the alcohol that has you responding to his question, “Yeah, we went to UND together, but we didn’t really hang out or anything, I think everyone just thought I was massive bitch.” You laugh, but you can see some confusion setting in on Brock’s expression. Brandon laughs too, not thinking much of what you said.

“What do you mean?” Brock asks. He never thought of you that way back in college. He knew that guy you dated was jerk. He dimmed your light, and that wasn’t your fault.

“I don’t know, I just figured you guys all thought I was kind of a bitch because I just hung out with my boyfriend all the time.” You don’t really know what else to say, thinking back to those days where you would follow Owen around like a lost puppy.

“I don’t think anybody thought that, we just thought your boyfriend was dick.” He says, and before you can say anything else he adds, “No offense. He just didn’t seem like he treated you very well. That night he yelled at you in front of the dorm when he found out you went to our party left a pretty bitter taste in my mouth.”

“Sounds like a dick, to me.” Quinn says matter-of-factly. You’re sure it’s the alcohol for him too, he’s been more talkative in the last hour than he has been in the two other times you’ve seen him.

“Yeah, he was.” You answer back.

“So I guess you’re not still dating this guy, are you?” Brandon asks. You can feel sets of eyes all resting on you now, like you’re about to reveal a big secret.

“No no, we broke up right before senior year of college. I dated a little in grad school, but when I found out I was moving to Canada I didn’t really bother with trying to find boyfriend.” You tell them, as they nod in response.

The rest of the night isn’t as serious. Jade and Jake tear up the dance floor, and when she nudges you to signal she’s leaving with him you tell her to wrap before she taps it, earning a laugh and wave goodbye. Brock stays by your side the entire night, neither of you wanting to join the others dancing. His arm stays perched on the back of the booth you’re in, while you listen to JT tell some elaborate story from their recent road trip.

When Brock sees you yawn for the third time in a row he asks if you’re ready to head home. “Yeah, I’m tired. I’ll probably just head home soon.” You think he might offer to go back with you, but you don’t want to assume. Instead of yelling over the loud music he just nods and pulls out his phone. He tells the boys that you’re both heading out and they all say goodbye before Brock nudges you out of the booth.

On the car ride home he asks you what you thought of the boys, laughing when your first response is that there are just so many of them. “It’s like trying to keep track of puppies. They’re there one second and then they’re off doing something else the next,” You laugh at yourself thinking about how many of them probably have undiagnosed ADHD, or maybe some of them are diagnosed. “But it’s cute, you guys are like a little family.” This earns one of those genuine Brock Boeser smiles. He’s proud of his little family. He loves them all, and he’s glad that you like them because he can tell they like you too.

That night out leads to a few more texts back and forth, and eventually to full on conversations that go one for days at a time. One night he asked what you were doing and you told him you were going to watch the Battle of Alberta game. You had heard a lot about this rivalry since you embarked on your hockey education, and you figured you should see what all the hype was about. To your surprise, Brock asked if he could join you, and the two you spent the night watching hockey from your couch.

You hadn’t watched a game this intense before, and when Matthew Tkachuk drops his gloves to fight Zack Kassian, Brock can tell you’re on edge. You knew there were fights in hockey, and you had watched a few clips on youtube, but it seemed more real watching it in realtime. You wondered what it would be like to see something like that in person. As the two players are ushered off the ice, you can’t help but wonder if Brock would ever find himself in a situation like that, and when you ask him if he ever fights during games he chuckles a bit before he answers, “No, I’m not really the fighting type. I think it’s better for everyone if I leave that up to guys like Zack and Jordie.”

You’re not totally convinced by this, and you don’t like that the thought of Brock in a fight makes you feel so sick. He can sense your hesitation and he wants to try to ease your mind, “When fights like that break out, it’s usually because both players have agreed to it. You can see that they’re talking right before, they’re asking each other if they want to do it.” He narrates as the fight replays on your TV. “Occasionally someone will still throw a punch even if the other guy says no, but that’s not common. It’s kind of an unspoken rule that you have to stand up for your team, so most guys who are asked will fight, but I’m not usually the guy in that position. I haven’t fought once in the NHL, and I plan to keep it that way. I’d get rag-dolled by both of those guys.” He says pointing back to where the players now sit in their respective boxes.

It’s nice to know that Brock hasn’t fought anyone before, but you still worry about him getting hurt. What if he was the one who got caught by a bad hit? You can’t keep thinking about things you can’t control, so you try your best to shift your attention back to the game.

You and Brock find yourselves in each others apartments more often after that. The two of you will make dinner and watch a game, or just watch TV for the night. Occasionally you walk down to the coffee shop on the corner together or walk over to the park with Coolie and Milo. You’ve started to become friends, and you feel like Brock is letting you get to know him more and more everyday. The conversation is easier, and the flirting is probably more noticeable than either of you thinks it is. Your positions on the couch have drifted from opposite sides of the couch to having your thighs touching while his arm sits, resting behind you across the back of the couch. He always greets you with a big hug, and lately you’ve noticed his arms lingering around your body a little bit longer than the time before

He hasn’t made a move yet, and you haven’t either. You think that maybe he just isn’t interested in getting closer, and you’re admittedly too self-conscious to try to make a move yourself. Tonight os just like any other night that the two of you spend together but you don’t notice that Brock is pretty far gone in his thoughts. That may be because you’re lost in your own as well. A few minutes later his voice brings you back to reality, “Are you okay?” You look up from where you’ve been staring down at the wine glass in your hand. You’re sitting at his kitchen counter, and he’s standing on the other side of the island looking back at you. You tell him you’re fine but you can see that he doesn’t buy it for a second.

“You know you’re like a really good guy, right?” You ask him, after taking another sip of wine.

He smiles back at you with a bit questioning in his eye, “I mean I’d like to think that I’m not too bad.” He says back.

“No, Brock. You’re like really good. You help old ladies at the grocery store, and you talk about your nephew like he’s your own kid, and you’re nice to me when you really don’t have to be.” You try to tell him just how genuinely good he is. You wish you could explain it more eloquently and you wish you could show him how good of heart he has.

“That just sounds like normal people stuff,” he replies with a slight shrug of his shoulders.

He would say something like that, and think that normal people were just as nice as he is, and maybe they were, but the people that you’ve met throughout your life have somewhat tainted that idea for you.

“I think maybe you don’t realize how good you are.” He says back, looking you directly in the eyes. “You’re a good person, and just because I knew you back when you dated some jerk in college, doesn’t mean that it has any impact on how I feel about you now.” He’s so serious in this moment, and not at all like the usual lighthearted guy you’re used to. Somehow he knew just where your insecurities laid. He’s so genuine and honest sometimes that it hurts and the butterflies you feel in your stomach are getting harder and harder to ignore.

The two of you don’t talk much for the rest of the night, and instead settle in a comfortable silence while Brock catches up on the episodes of Gossip Girl that Elias watched without him. Brock isn’t paying attention to what is happening on his TV. His mind is way too busy thinking of what he’s going to do next. The guys have all been pestering him to get a move on, saying that he’ll miss his window of opportunity with you, and he knows that they’re right. If he’s lucky he hasn’t missed his opportunity yet, but if not, he might just be screwed.

He doesn’t even notice when his eyes shift away from the screen and move to rest on you. He’s taking his time, studying every feature, taking in every soft curve of your face. He loves the subtle crinkles on the sides of your eyes that deepen when you smile, and it’s even better when it happens because of something he said or did. If he could, he would make sure that smile stayed on your face for every second of the day. Your hair flows naturally without being fixed and he knows that you often let strands fall in front of your eyes when you’re too concentrated on your work or like now, when you’re invested in the show that you’re watching.

Without a thought, and on instinct alone, Brock slowly moves his hand up toward your face and softly tucks the strand of hair behind your ear. You’re a bit caught off guard at first, but you remain still as you feel his fingers linger on the side of your neck. Eventually you let your eyes meet his and you realize just how close you are to him. The two of you stay like that for a minute, staring at each other, taking each other in. It’s too easy to get lost in Brock’s ocean-like eyes, and you swear you hear the enchanting sound of waves crashing on a beach.

You’ve been staring at each other for what feels like too long, and you’re about to pull away when you feel Brock’s hand on the side of your face again. He’s slowly inching toward you and his eyes are still glued to yours. He’s searching for any source of panic or concern in your eyes, but he doesn’t find any. Your heart has taken over at this point and you can’t keep yourself away any longer, before you lean in and your lips finally meet his.

Kissing Brock feels like everything good in the world. It’s feels like the first time you road a bike or the first time you tasted ice cream. It’s new and invigorating and yet you feel totally safe and secure. Before you know it, you’re deepening the kiss and Brock lets you lead him to where you’re comfortable. It just so happens that you find comfort when you reposition yourself so that your legs are straddling his and his hands are resting on your hips. It’s only when your hips shift on top of him and he can’t help but let out a deep moan that also he makes himself pull away from you. It’s then when you start to panic, and think that maybe this was a mistake, maybe he’s realizing that now.

“I don’t want you to think that I just want this.” He says as he motions to the small space separating your bodies. “I don’t want this to just be a one-time thing…” he mutters out, like he’s a bit embarrassed, and nervous that you won’t want the same thing.

“Brock, the only reason I wouldn’t want this is if you didn’t want it. But if you do, then I do too.” You say steadily. Brock smiles and it’s one of those big toothy smiles he only shares when he’s truly happy. You can’t say anything because you’re just as elated, so instead you lean down to kiss him again.

It’s only been a short six months since that night on Brock’s couch, but now you get to call his bed your own, and when you come home to your shared apartment you’re greeted by your beautiful blond boyfriend and your two dogs. Brock insists that you’re their adoptive mom now, and to make it official he bought the two of you matching hats that say “Dog Mom AF” and “Dog Dad AF.” You both wear them when you walk your fury kids together and even though you tell him you think they’re cheesy he knows that you love them.

Brock is somehow everything you need him to be. He’s strong when you’re not and he makes you laugh when you’re sad, but most of all he’s your steady companion. It’s crazy now, thinking back to when you met him. You were just a kid, barely out of high school, and you really hadn’t had the chance to think about what you actually wanted for your life.

Then you graduated, went to graduate school, and started to find out who you were without a boy to dictate the ins and outs of your life. When you were given the opportunity to move to Vancouver you saw it as a new beginning, but you didn’t realize that it was going to be a gift to more than one part of your life. Your work life and your career goals were finally falling into place and that just left one more thing—your love life. You had stopped worrying so much about finding a boyfriend along the way as you focused on yourself, but when Brock Boeser reentered your life you couldn’t ignore it.

Brock’s reemergence was a surprise to say the least, but now you both see that it was a gift of a second chance. When you first met, neither of you were ready for the kind of commitment you now share with each other, and you know now more than ever that those years with Owen and the years you spent alone were all worth it, because when history repeats itself you have the power to change the narrative.

#brock boeser #vancouver canucks #brock boeser imagine #brock boeser fic #hockey imagine #hockey fic #nhl fic #nhl #canucks

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the-firebender-girl · 4 years

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Fire Lord For a Day (Zuko x Reader)

-> There’s a new Fire Lord in town because Zuko lost a bet.

A few years after Zuko was crowned as the Fire Lord and ushered in a new era of peace and harmony, all is finally well between the 4 nations.

The progress of building the war-torn world back up was hard, but not impossible. Under his rule the Fire Nation work to regain its honor and clean its name, doing whatever they can to help restore what they had destroyed. And having the Avatar on his side definitely doesn’t hurt his chances too.

Besides working on the nation, he has worked hard on bettering himself, becoming a better man, someone more deserving of his title. And I think it’s safe to say that he’s well on his way there, Zuko has always been the sane one in the family, the one with a moral compass although he did get somewhat confused in the past before he found who he’s meant to be. Changing for the better is his watchword now.

That thing with Mai didn’t work out too, for the best perhaps. Although they’re compatible and have known each other since they were little, perhaps it wasn’t meant to be anything more than a simple childhood crush, but it can’t really grow past that. They crave for different things in a relationship, Mai was too emotionless, too closed-off, too cold for his taste. After living a life full of loneliness and rejection, all he needs is warmth and acceptance, a pair of welcoming arms.

Perhaps that’s why he’s immediately hooked to her. Y/N. She’s like the sunshine of his life. Her presence brings him so much joy and unconditional love. It was a chance encounter between them. Zuko was walking around the capital in disguise, watching as the world unfold and ran its course around him, how his people are living their life when he bumped into her. Nearly knocking her onto the ground, thank Agni he didn’t.

She apologized profusely when the impact caused his hood to fall back, revealing his face. She wasn’t sure of this new Fire Lord, well he did promise to be different than his ancestors but she needs actions not words. When she won’t stop repeatedly bowing even though he was clearly the one who got in her way, he frowned, and stop her mid-bow.

“You can stop doing that now, i’m okay, there’s nothing to be worried about” He said softly, assuring the poor girl.

“I’m truly sorry Fire Lord, what can I do to make it up to you?” Face still latched with worries, eyebrows tightly knitted.

“Well I still have to think about that” He pretended to contemplate it in his head, one hand positioned under his chin, “In the meantime, how about we discuss it over tea?”

“O—of course Fire Lord Zuko, anything” He can’t help but grimaced, still was not used to the title.

“Zuko please, just call me Zuko”

“Zuko...” She said, testing the name out, how he loved the sound of it.

“And what can I call you, fair lady?”

“Y/N, just Y/N”

“Okay then just Y/N, should we go now?” Zuko said, offering one of his hands for her to hold, which she took gratefully.

“By all means, lead the way Zuko” Finally letting her worries melt away, giving a way in for a smile.

———————————————————————

That was a few years ago.

Turns out that Y/N’s family is the owner of Zen Dimsum & Tea House, the most famous restaurant in the capital. Even Uncle Iroh always squeeze a visit there everytime he comes home.

“Rival only second to Jasmine Dragon itself!” That’s what he claimed.

And now she is officially his girlfriend, him asking her out was anything but romantic. Spirits know how much he lacks in the wooing department. She doesn’t seem to mind it though and said yes in a heartbeat.

She has met the Gaang on several occasions and they all love her. Even the palace servants and guards adore her too. Zuko came to the conclusion that it’s just impossible not to took a liking to her.

That’s what brought us here today. You see about a week ago Zuko had lost a bet to Y/N, and the price she asked for? being a Fire Lord for a day.

Zuko was skeptical at first of course because everything could go downhill real quick, but she assured him that she wouldn’t do anything that could put a permanent damage to his reputation, not too much anyway.

They agreed on this day for his schedule was pretty much empty, no meetings, no strategizing, no council. It’s as perfect as it can be.

Even the Gaang are here too to witness this hilarious once-in-a-blue-moon occasion. Zuko’s never known for being one to let go of the reign. But this girl somehow manages to pulled it off, oh she’s going to be the death of him for sure.

“All hail Fire Lord Y/N” Sokka said in a booming voice, as he puts the Fire Lord headpiece into her top-knot, crowning her for the day.

“All hail Fire Lord Y/N” Aang, Katara, Toph, Suki, and Ty Lee repeated back solemnly while giving an exaggerated bow.

Zuko can’t help but facepalmed himself at the scene that he’s witnessing, Fire Lord Sozin would no doubt have his head if only he were to see this.

“Ahh it feels good to be king” Y/N said, mustering her voice to be as regal as can be, but her grin definitely ruins it.

Uncle Iroh who has somehow founds himself stumbling onto this scene can’t help but let out a loud laughter.

“Now what do we have here? I must say i’m disappointed to see your reign came to an end so soon dear nephew”

Zuko lets out an exasperated groan to which everyone in the room exploded into a series of laughter, this is just too good to be true.

———————————————————————

“What will be your first decree, Your Majesty?” Sokka asked her.

The Gaang, Ty Lee, and Uncle Iroh surrounded her like an entourage, not wanting to miss out on all the fun while a grumbling Zuko trailed not too far behind them.

“Hey Iroh? do you remember when you reigned as the temporary Fire Lord?” Y/N said.

“Of course dear one, it was short but sweet, what about it?”

“I think it’s about time that we bring back what matters most to the people, I hereby declared that National Tea Appreciation Day would be permanently etched into our calendar!”

The Gaang cheer while Uncle Iroh had almost cried on spot, he shrieked happily, hugging the girl tightly.

“You are a blessing to this nation Y/N”

She smiles back at him, “Anything for you, Iroh”

“National Tea Appreciation Day it is then! Toph, mind giving me a hand on drawing the illustration for the official announcement?” Sokka said asking his poster drawing partner, just like old times in Ba Sing Se.

“You got it, boss” Toph grins back at him, giving a thumbs up.

Looking back and forth between his positively glowing uncle and the happiest the Gaang has ever been for some time, Zuko can’t help but feel the tension leaves his body.

“Maybe this won’t be so bad after all”

———————————————————————

“NO! absolutely not! you can’t change our national color to pink and peach Y/N, what do you think we are?” Zuko nearly lose his shit at this madness.

“But I think it’s brilliant, Zuko! red is sooo last centuries” Ty Lee comes to Y/N defense, sticking her tongue out to her childhood friend.

“You guys are crazy” He’s shaking his head frantically, “This nation is doomed” He dramatically said while pulling at his hair, his top-knot has hair sticking out in all directions.

“Oh knock it off, drama king. It’s just for a day! the people deserve to let loose and have some fun. You know you can always revoke it later” Y/N said, pulling her puppy dog eyes at him, lips pouting slightly.

“Please don’t do that... you’re not playing fair Y/N, you know I can’t say no to that face” Zuko grumbles, he’s trying very hard, but she got him putty in her hands.

“You know what? do what you like, it can’t get any worse than this” He said in defeat.

Oh boy if only he knew how wrong he was.

Zuko cannot recognize what he is seeing in front of his eyes. The proud Fire Nation, his nation, is now a seas of pink and peaches.

To his surprise after the announcement of Y/N’s second decree, the people responded to it giddily. They began to dress up in all sorts of pink and peach, their normal red and black outfit long forgotten. Even the usually reserved and standoffish nobles are participating in this event. Excitement buzzing in the air of the capital.

The people are rejoicing, merrily welcoming the arrival of the new ‘Fire Lord’ amidst them with the sound of cheers and clapping. Petals of flowers are thrown to the air, creating a rain of blooms in a flurry of rainbow shades. It’s nice to see them this light-hearted after living under a tyrant for soo long, the constricting rules don’t help either.

For the first time Zuko sees the people of the Fire Nation becoming one, with no clear lines separating between the nobles and the commoners, together right here and now, they are just human who longs for freedom. Freedom that Y/N just gives them, to do as one’s heart content without having to fear for their status or images.

———————————————————————

“Can we have some music over here? real music not the usual propaganda ones, I wanna hear some beat!” Y/N screamed out into the crowd that has filled the Royal Plaza.

“This one really brings the party with her doesn’t she, Sparky?” Toph said to Zuko, as together their eyes sweep over the continously growing crowd.

“Yeah... that she does” Zuko smiles fondly at his girlfriend and the way she enchants the crowd, it’s like they are gravitating towards her.

“Oh no...” Toph said again with a teasing wicked grin, she pointed her finger at him.

“You are so whipped, Sparky”

“That I am Toph, that I am...”

———————————————————————

“WOHOOOO it’s like the secret cave rave all over again!!!” Aang screamed with happiness as he crowd surf. People of all ages dancing below him.

“Aang! you get down here this instant! you’re gonna fall” Katara freaks out watching the Avatar being passed on from hands to hands. Biting her lip so hard she nearly drew blood.

“Oh let him live, Katara! loosen up, it’s a party” Suki said as she elbows her side lightly.

“Why are we just standing here? COME ON” Ty Lee said as she dragged both girls right to the middle of the crowd.

Katara’s screams of “No no no” was the last thing that can be heard before it’s swallowed by the sound of thrumming beats and off-tune singing.

———————————————————————

As the day come to an end, the party died down and people are returning to their respective home. Worn out but as happy as ever.

The Gaang is beaming, their feet light as they make their way back to the palace. Even after all of the heroic things that they had accomplished, it felt nice just to be a bunch of teenagers again.

“I’m beat you guys, i’m probably gonna sleep for the next 2 days” Aang said, pausing mid sentence to let out a yawn.

“Yup good idea, i’m gonna copy you on that” Sokka replied, entertaining the idea of just passing out on the floor right here right now, it looks so tempting. That is before Suki offers him her shoulders to lean on, shaking her head at his antics.

“Goodnight everyone” Katara said, earning back a chorus of “Goodnight” from everyone in return.

“Thanks for the awesome day Y/N” Ty Lee said as she half hugged Y/N before she too makes her way to her room.

Uncle Iroh gave Zuko and Y/N a warm smile, “Go on and rest you two, you both earned it”

“Goodnight uncle”

“Sleep well, Iroh”

———————————————————————

Back in Zuko’s bedroom, they both have cleaned up and changed into their sleepwear but decided that this is a rare moment to just enjoy each other’s presence without the usual pressure of being chased by time constraint.

“Had fun?” Zuko asked as he approaches her who is currently standing in the balcony that looks over the town below.

He wraps his arms around her as she snuggles into him, enjoying the extra warmth that he provided. Zuko leans down to press a kiss atop the crown of her head.

“I’m kinda sad that this day is over but it’s good while it lasts, I had a good run” She said while chuckling a bit at the ridiculousness of the situation. Never in a million years had she imagined this happening to her.

“You certainly made quite an impression on the people, they all adore you, not that i’m surprised it’s about time they all see you the way that I see you”

Y/N tilted her head a bit so that she can see him better, he looks handsome under the moonlight and stars, some pieces of his hair falling down lazily covering one of his eyes.

He looks at her with an intense look in his eyes, suddenly getting all serious.

“If you like it that much, it doesn’t have to end tonight you know?”

This got her letting out a scoff, “What? you’re gonna resign your position to me now?” she asked incredulously.

Zuko rolls his eyes at her, “No, you silly girl”

“How does Fire Lady sounds to you?”

Y/N swears that her heart stopped beating for a milisecond after hearing the words that just came out of her lover’s mouth.

“Are you really proposing to me right now, Fire Lord Zuko?” She said, feigning out a scandalous gasp.

“Spirits you’re dramatic aren’t you”

“You’re one to talk, Zuko”

She pretends to think about it, eyes looking upward, eyebrows scrunching creating a line in her forehead.

Now Zuko is the one who’s starting to get cold feet, what if she rejected him? what if it’s too much? too soon? how brash of him to just throw around this responsibility so carelessly. Before he can start hyperventilating, she raises her hand to cup his cheek gently, rubbing a soothing finger in a left and right motion to calm down his strung nerve.

“That sounds perfect” Sincerity evident in her voice, “I’ll be honored Zuko, if you’ll have me”

“Oh thank the spirits”

He’s in a state of euphoria, pulling her in even closer, he gently takes her face into his hands and lean down to kiss her. A slow, passionate kiss where they pour as much love as they can muster into it.

As they broke apart, Zuko takes her hand and entertwine their fingers together. Leading her back into his room and walk to the front of the vanity.

He opens one of the drawers, taking out a beautiful box decorated with carvings of dragon and fire lillies. Inside it is a gleaming piece of gold in the shape of a flame, the Fire Lady headpiece.

“May I?” He asks her.

She can only nods, emotions threatening to make her burst.

Zuko takes the headpiece and carefully inserted it into her top-knot, it sits perfectly, right where it should be.

“My Fire Lady” Zuko said as he can’t help but smile as he stares at her reflection in the mirror, leaning down to give a kiss to her cheek.

———————————————————————

The national colors went back to the normal red and black but the smiles on his people’s faces remains. Especially after hearing the official engaged-to-be-married announcement of their Fire Lord to she who has brought happiness not only to him, but to the people as well.

That day as she stood beside him from the top stair of the palace, hands waving to the cheering crowd of people below, proudly adorning the Fire Lady headpiece in her hair, Zuko thought to himself.

Yeah Uncle Iroh is never wrong, she is a blessing to this nation.

“All hail Fire Lord Zuko and Fire Lady Y/N” Uncle Iroh said, giving his salute to the new reigning monarch.

“All hail Fire Lord Zuko and Fire Lady Y/N”

———————————————————————

A/N : I’ve been very productive lately and there’s a lot more stories waiting to be finished in my draft😉 this is my second Zuko fic and as for me i’m very pleased with how it turns out but I really want to hear from you guys too soo feedbacks are definitely hoped for so that I can improve my writing♥️ anyways thank you so much for reading til the end and i’ll see you on another fic lovelies!

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peterprkrsbtch · 3 years

Text

sapphire - part 2

Peter Parker x reader

A/n: Part 1 is up on my page! There’s a couple flashbacks in this one so I put the dates before so it doesn’t get confusing. If you enjoy this one, like or reblog to share! I already wrote part 3 and it’s my favorite one yet so that’ll def be up soon :)

tag- @juliannaamonroe

Warnings: swearing, make out, violence

(September 1)

We’re one minute away. Come out hoe!

You smile as you read the text, glancing at yourself in the mirror again, nerves and excitement ablaze in your stomach. You’d been planning for this day since last winter, and now it was finally here. You adjust your carefully styled hair and double check that the natural makeup you applied was sitting on your skin correctly.

Of course it was. That goddamn injection sometimes made you feel like a vampire out of twilight and sometimes you still got surprised when you saw your own face while passing a mirror or a particularly reflective window. You smooth down the ruffles of your short black skirt and tug the top of your tank top down so a bit more of your curves show.

You put on your white sneakers and tug your shirt back up to cover your chest again. We’ll have to work up to that, I guess. A long honk sounds from outside your apartment building and you curse as you scramble to grab your backpack and phone before running down and out the front steps.

“Awwww,” You say sweetly at the sight of the two girls who had become your best friends. “That’s the shirt you were wearing when we met, Ally.” You jokingly brush away a tear, pretending to be ultra touched.

“Best damn day of my life.” Ally says from her spot in the drivers seat, laughing at your dramatics. She may be joking around, but her sentiment makes your heart clench. This year really was going to be different.

***

(July 3)

You quickly realized you needed to find some Midtown friends if your plan for senior year was going to work. If you dared to show up looking, well, like you do, completely alone and friendless, you might become even more of an outcast than you were before. The first month of summer had been the least lonely time of your year so far, thanks to a certain Spiderman.

The two of you spent most of your nights together, flying through the city, fighting crime together, and talking. The “slow” nights that used to fill you with boredom quickly became your favorite when he was involved. The sound of his laugh and the jokes he makes during fights quickly became the highlight of your days.

But you couldn’t let yourself get too distracted by him. After all, neither of you knew what the other looked like. The only other boy you’d ever found remotely cute (other than celebrities) was nerdy Peter Parker from your high school. He wasn’t your usual type and he seemed to be just as shy as you were, so you had little (zero) hope that it would ever lead to anything more than a smile during the hallway if you accidentally made eye contact.

Sorry Spiderman, but no way in hell are you gonna make me lose my focus. The loneliness you had felt through the last three years of high school was too much. Your plan had to work. So that night as the two of you patrolled together, you softly mentioned that you were going to a pool party tomorrow and wouldn’t be able to meet.

He seemed a bit disappointed, but you brushed it off, trying to remember the names of the girls at your school who seemed nice. Peter, however, couldn’t focus on anything other than the fact that you had told him where you would be tomorrow. There was only so many pool parties in a city like New York.

You tried not to think about who was under the Spiderman mask out of respect and, to be honest, it seemed like a pointless endeavor. Peter was not the same. No matter how tired he was from patrol, he always had time to lay awake before he fell asleep and picture what you would look like under the mask.

There wasn’t very many people who understood Peter’s secret life. None, actually, until you. Maybe that was why he was so intrigued by you, because you were so similar, but in his heart he knew that wasn’t it. He liked you. And he hated himself for it. But once you mentioned the pool party, he made sure to take one long last glance at the color of your hair before you two said goodbye. Just in case he happened to see that same hair tomorrow.

(July 4)

You were so, so nervous. Your closet of exclusively sweats and hoodies was trashed as Part 1 of your plan, much to your mother’s happiness. She had always been honest about her hatred of your junior year clothes and was extremely excited to purchase everything you needed. As distant as she was, you had to give her a little credit.

Although you’d been wearing the new clothes for the past month, this was the first time you were doing it so publicly. Your denim shorts exposed miles of smooth leg, and you’d decided to wear a red tube top in honor of the holiday-not to mention it really showed off your curves. You’d meticulously done your hair and makeup like you’d been practicing the past month and prayed that somebody would talk to you today.

You’d seen the flyer for the Fourth of July party on Instagram, which had been step 2. Unfortunately, you had two followers. Your mom and her boyfriend. Step 2 is a work in progress.

One long walk later, and you’re in front of the address. You swear you could explode of nerves right there, but instead you take a deep breath and force your legs to carry you inside the house and towards the people out by the pool.

Your eyes are so focused on your destination, the glass sliding door, that you barely notice when you bump shoulders with someone, causing you to drop your phone.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry. I wasn’t looking where I was going.” You say, reaching down to grab your phone.

“Oh my god, stop. That was totally my fault.” You stand back up to see the girl who was speaking, and you recognize her immediately. Her name is Ally, and she’s a part of the most popular group at school. Despite her long black hair and sweet smile, you haven’t heard many good things about her. Not the type of person you were looking for.

“Do you go to Midtown? I don’t think I’ve seen you around.” Ally says, making no move to walk away from the conversation.

“Yeah, actually. My name is Y/n?” You don’t miss the way her eyebrows raise and her eyes widen with confusion and shock. You’re embarrassed now, realizing maybe you weren’t as invisible as you’d thought. In an effort to explain away the last few years, “My dad left a couple years ago and it was pretty hard on me, but I’m all better now.” You flash the most dazzling smile you can manage and hope she accepts it.

“No way, mine did too!” She gasps as she grabs your hands. You feel a small pang of guilt at that. It was a lie, you had no idea who your dad was and frankly, you didn’t think your mom knew either.

The conversation starts to flow between you and Ally easily as you make your way out to the pool. “This is my best friend Betty.” Ally introduces you to the sweet-as-pie girl and the three of you quickly fall into a conversation like you’d known each other forever. A few of their guy friends tried to come up and talk to you, but she just waved them away. “Leave us alone, we just met our new best friend.”

You felt bad for judging Ally so harshly earlier, blindly trusting the stupid rumors you’d heard about her. Popular or not, the three of you got along better than any of the other friends you’d tried to make throughout your life. They do briefly make fun of your instagram before forcing you to take and post pictures with the two of them by the pool. They both tag your account.

Peter didn’t seem to share the good luck you did. He’d dragged Ned to 6 different pool parties across the city and saw no one who looked like Sapphire. Disappointed, he spent the night patrolling alone and dodging fireworks.

***

(September 1)

Since that day, you’d become a trio with Ally and Betty. The day after the pool party you’d woken up to nearly 1,000 followers on your instagram. Everyone from Midtown who never gave you a second look when you had your hood shoved over your head now wanted to be your friend.

The three of you spent the rest of your summer days together, and you fit into the popular friend group better than you could have imagined. Maybe you watched too many teen movies, but you expected them to be mean. The only mean one was Flash, and even he was basically harmless. You’d given up Saturday night patrols with Spiderman for a weekly girls night with your new best friends. You thought having new friends and a bustling social life would’ve made it easier to forget about Spiderman, but somehow he seeped into every area of your life.

That damn laugh. As Ally and Betty sing along to the radio loudly, you bite your lip to stop a dumb smile from rising to your lips. God, just thinking about him made you flustered. As Ally drives into the school parking lot, nerves bubble in your stomach.

As if you aren’t stressed enough, your brain decides this is the perfect moment to remind you of the one night this summer you and Spiderman haven’t talked about since.

*** (August 14)

The two of you were sprawled out on a gravel rooftop next to each other. Not the most comfortable of relaxing spots, but you’d both grown tired of flying around under the summer heat with no hint of trouble for miles.

“This sucks.” Spiderman huffs out.

“Rude.” You reply quickly, even though you know he isn’t talking about you.

“Oh, no,” He immediately sits up. “I didn’t mean you suck, I just meant, you know, because there’s not much going on right now and it’s hot and-” He sees your cheeky smile and stops himself with a laugh. “Sorry.”

“No, it’s cute.” You bite your lip. The fuck did I just say? Before you can begin to explain, he jumps to his feet.

“Spidey sense, let’s go!” You jump up too and follow after him as he jumps off the building. Thank god. I’ve never been so grateful that someone’s in trouble. The fight was tough, even with the both of you. These men had strange guns that keep firing at you and Spiderman even though you’d tried multiple times to crush them with your powers.

“The guns are magic-proof! I can’t destroy them!” You yell over to Spiderman as you take down one of the men in between punches.

Somehow, two men get ahold of their guns and corner you. Just as you start levitating to fly over them, a web shoots from somewhere behind them and the men and their guns are yanked away. Spiderman wastes no time and you swear he seems angry with the two men as he webs them to the wall next to their friends before picking up the guns and violently smashing them on the ground.

You’re still frozen in shock, watching him. When he seems to be satisfied with the broken pile of guns on the floor, he runs back over to you. “I’m so sorry, I know we promised-” You finally break out of whatever trance you were in to place a finger over his lips, casting a disgusted glance towards the men staring at you from their webbed cocoons.

“Not here.” You say quietly, and fly the two of you quickly up to the roof. He blinks for a second, his head spinning from the speed. You rarely use your full speed, especially with him, but you had to get out of there. “Okay, go ahead.” You say after a second of silence.

“I’m so sorry, I know we agreed not to get in each other’s way, and I know you can handle yourself, probably better than I can. Hold on, I didn’t mean I handle you. That sounded weird. Anyways, I just got so angry when I saw those men pointing their guns at you I had to-” He’s talking about the agreement you two had made when you first started working together. You both obviously were skilled, so you agreed that you wouldn’t interrupt each other’s fights unless asked.

“Spidey, I really don’t care you interrupted. It was hot.” JESUS CHRIST NOT AGAIN. You immediately winced and slap a hand over your mouth. “Oh my god I did NOT mean to say that I’m so sorry.”

Your rambling is cut off as Spiderman’s hand travels up to the bottom of his mask and you think your eyes might fall out of your head with how wide they become as he begins to pull it up, revealing the soft pale skin of his neck.

His jaw, chin, and then lips become visible as he lets the mask rest on his nose. The 0.5 seconds that have passed since you stopped talking feel like an eternity until he suddenly leans forward, crashing his lips into yours. Spiderman is an amazing kisser, you decide, as you gently kiss him back.

WHAT AM I DOING? Your mind is going haywire but instead of stopping, you deepen the kiss and nearly smile when he lets out a low moan. Everything you’ve told yourself about focus and distractions flies out the window when his gloved hands clutch your waist and pull you closer to him than you thought possible.

It feels like it’s only been a second when he pulls away, but your eyes flicker to his swollen lips and you know it must have been longer. You smile as you stare at his lips, only inches from yours, but as your gaze moves to the rest of his exposed skin the smile drops slowly.

Your rational mind comes back. It’s easy to forget when you’re with him that you’ve only known each other a couple months. How could you do this? Your first time making out with a boy, and he doesn’t even know your name.

“We shouldn’t be doing this.” You whisper as he starts to say something. “Sorry, what were you going to say?” He blinks slowly and takes a deep breath before stepping away from you.

“Nevermind. See you tomorrow.” And he swings away from you. You silently curse yourself for being such a big mouth, wanting to know what he would have said. You can’t help the small voice in the back of your head, telling you that you made the wrong decision.

You raise your hand to run your fingers along your tingling lips before flying home as fast as you can.

***

(September 1)

You wince at the painful memory before reminding yourself everything was back to normal the next day and neither of you mentioned it again. You still weren’t sure if that was good or bad. You force all thoughts of Spiderman out of your brain and even give Ally an encouraging cheer when she successfully parks on her first try.

You don’t remember Midtown having so many fucking students last year, but maybe it was because they were all staring at you. Any confidence you’d had as you opened Ally’s car door had disappeared as everyone around you turned to gawk. The bright smile you’d pasted on a second ago quickly fell and you glanced at Ally nervously.

“Come on, girls!” She says enthusiastically, grabbing an arm from you and Betty as she breaks the brief moment of awkward silence. God bless you Ally. As the three of you hoist your bags over your shoulders and make your way into the school, you mouth a quick thank you her way, hoping she can see your genuine appreciation. She smiles at you. “I’m happy we’re going into this year as three instead of two.”

Betty leans forward to smile at you. “Me too, y/n. I’m really happy you’re here.” You smile back brightly. There really was no one as sweet as Betty.

“You won’t be so happy I’m here when I talk your ear off during class.” The three of you continue laughing and joking your way down the hall to stop at your lockers.

“Oh my god, is that Y/n?” Ned interrupts Peter’s latest ramble about his night with Sapphire. Usually, he really did listen. Ned was fully invested in the superhero love story, as he called it, unfolding. But the sight of a girl notorious for hiding in her own baggy clothes across the hall in a miniskirt and tank top was more important.

“Y/n?” Peter asks, confused why Ned wasn’t paying attention. But when he turned around to see what Ned was staring at, he understood. He’d seen you around school the past three years, but never like this.

You looked like a fucking model. And everyone in the hall couldn’t help but stare. “Holy shit.”

“Right, dude?” Ned breathes out, the two of them shamelessly staring. “Why didn’t that happen to me over summer? Oh my god, of course she’s friends with Betty.”

Peter laughs as his best friend goes on about “two pretty best friends” but he can’t take his eyes off of you. The light in your eyes as you joke with your friends, making them double over in laughter, feels strangely familiar. Or maybe that’s wishful thinking on his part because you’re extremely pretty.

He watches in surprise as you and Ally walk up to the AP Chem classroom, waving goodbye to Betty sadly as she heads off to English. You turn to walk into the classroom after Ally, but you pause and look back down the hallway-right at him. Instead of yelling at him for being a creep like he expected, you smile at him widely before heading into the class. He exhales deeply and glances down at his schedule quickly, a smile appearing. AP Chem.

Of course his thoughts are still consumed by Sapphire, but it was hard to ignore you especially after seeing his name on the seating chart next to yours in the back row. Plus, Sapphire was the one who’d shot him down after he finally tried to make a move after catching onto the hints he thought she’d been dropping.

He felt bad for thinking that about her, he didn’t blame her at all. He knew there was a million reasons they shouldn’t be together-and he didn’t want to know specifics on why he wasn’t good enough. Sapphire hadn’t brought up that night since, and he was fine to pretend it never happened.

You were already in your seat at the lab table, but Ally was still standing next to you waving her hands wildly as you two spoke. He doesn’t want to interrupt so he freezes in place, unsure of whether or not to go sit down. He’d thought you were cute, and a little shy like him in freshman and sophomore year and he remembered the many times he would look at you from across the room like he is now.

His eyes had been quick to find you whenever you two were in the same room ever since the first day of school freshman year when you smiled at him in the hall. Even last year, when all he saw of you was a curled up lump at your desk or a sliver of hair peeking out from behind your hood he still noticed you.

Luckily for him, the bell rings and he slides into his seat just as the teacher begins speaking. “Hi, Peter.” You lean over to him, your shoulders nearly touching, and whisper so the teacher doesn’t hear. “I’m y/n.” You smile warmly as his cheeks and ears turn light pink.

“You don’t have to introduce yourself. We’ve gone to school together since we were 6?” Now it’s your turn to be embarrassed and you purse your lips together.

“No, I know, just-” Peter notices you seem a bit frustrated as you glance around the room and then lean even closer to him. “Everybody thinks I’m new.” You nervously mess with your bracelet.

“You do look a bit different.” He points out and you raise your eyebrows before sighing slowly and shrugging.

“I was just sick of feeling invisible, you know. Not because I care what anyone here thinks. Last year was just, really, really lonely.” Peter watches you intently as you speak, hanging onto your every word.

Your confession made him sad. If only he’d been brave enough to ask if you were okay. You pause for a second and meet his eyes. Any other guy in this school would’ve laughed at you by now. You gesture to your outfit and nervously adjust your skirt. “I’m also not a superficial person. It wasn’t about changing how I looked, I just needed the confidence to put myself out there.” You pause and nod towards Ally with a smile. Peter glances over to Ally and sees her blow you a kiss, which you catch across the room with a giggle.

I miss you! She mouths with a dramatic frown and this time Peter laughs quietly with you. “I thought she was a bitch before I met her.” He looks at you with surprise to find you smiling at him. “But,” you hold up a finger for dramatic effect, “because I put myself out there, I met my best friends. A lot of people around here judge on appearances. I’m not like that anymore.” You say with confidence.

“That’s really cool of you.” Peter whispers back, and the sound sends an involuntary shiver down your spine. He’s so close to you and the feelings you thought you left behind two years ago don’t seem so left behind as you stare into his warm eyes. “For the record, I’d be your friend no matter what you look like.”

Peter has only been this nervous a couple times before in his life, and he can’t help but feel like he’s betraying Sapphire with the way he’s thinking about you. He watches as you smile warmly at his words and extend your hand towards his.

“Friends? Even though I'm so much uglier now?” You pout your bottom lip out, a smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. He nearly laughs out loud and has to remind himself you’re still in class. “I know guys go wild for the homeless man sweatpants look.” You’re both trying to hold back your laughter, shaking silently in the back of the class as he raises his hand and grabs yours.

“Friends.” Peter isn’t sure why he keeps going, but he does. “And just so you know, you were never ugly. I don’t know why you tried so hard to hide yourself last year, but even then,” the words leaving his mouth sound confident but Peter takes a deep breath before looking up from his lap to meet your eyes. Your wide eyes and surprised smile give him just the confidence he needs to finish. “You could never be ugly.” Peter can hear his heart beating.

You blink at him. This boy could not be real. Here he was, basically implying that the one thing you had wanted all along, for somebody to notice you, was true. Not only was it true, but it was Peter fucking Parker telling you this. Despite everything that had changed you in the past year, the giddy feeling in your bones brought you back to sophomore year and pining over Peter.

“Really?” Your smile spreads and he seems to let out a deep breath of relief.

“Yeah.” He smiles back at you until your sweet moment is interrupted by a fat ass syllabus dropping onto the lab table in front of you.

“Fuck,” you whisper. “This class is gonna be so much homework.” You turn the page so Peter can briefly see the list of projects alone, and it’s enough to make him cringe.

Something about the way the whispers travel back and forth between you all class makes you realize you hadn’t fallen into a friendship this easily, even with Ally. Even with Spiderman, your brain points out.

A red and blue suit swings into your mind and you are hit with a wave of guilt. Not two hours ago I was thinking about my make out with Spiderman, and now I’m comparing him to Peter?

You have all but one class together, and you can’t help but glance in Peter’s direction any chance you get. The only time you don’t see him is at lunch, even though you look all around the lunch room for him or the boy he’d been standing with this morning. You thought it would be too creepy to ask him where he’d been.

Finally, the last bell of the day rang, and you were sure if you didn’t have superpowers you would’ve been exhausted. School is kinda draining when you actually acknowledge people. Ally and Betty share your complaints about being tired on your drive home, all three of you agreeing you need naps. You kiss them both on the cheek and wave goodbye before heading up to your room.

Forget what I said about having superpowers. I’m fucking tired. You lay down on your bed, groaning into the pillow at the thought of having to patrol tonight. You sat up abruptly. You’d never dreaded patrol, it was always the thing you looked forward to. You glance towards the suit in your closet and sigh.

It’s not patrol I’m nervous about. It’s him. You feel incredibly guilty about today. I’m not a two timer. If I want to like Peter, I have to talk to Spiderman about that kiss first. You start to make your way over to the closet before another wave of exhaustion hits, sending you straight back to your bed.

After a nap. Then we’ll talk.

#peter parker imagine #peter parker x reader #peter parker angst #peter parker fluff #peter parker smut #avengers #marvel #spiderman #tom holland imagine #tom holland x reader #tom holland angst #tom holland fluff #tom holland smut

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arteyhumano299 · 3 years

Text

You Keep Me Waitin’

Chapter 1: Feel Better (9k words)

Summary: Kagami and Marinette aren't that close— they’re friendship is relatively new and there's still some unresolved tension. Kagami has just experienced heart break for the first time, and her mother’s expectations are beginning to weigh on her. Marinette’s duties are doing a similar number on her, and painful realizations have also left her heartbroken. They realize they can use each other as an excuse to flee from their troubling lives. In each other they find unexpected comfort, and soon they're closer than either could have expected.

Available on Ao3 , fanfic.net , and Wattpad

Notes:

First fanfic I'm publishing in a while. So I made the creative decisions to make the characters slightly older, around 17,16 ish. It's just cause it makes me uncomfortable to write sexual tension between 14-15 year olds. Also, this fic takes place right after the break ups so like season 4, ep 2. I can't promise consistent updating schedule but I'm committing to this fic. This first chapter is pretty long, I don't have a set words per chapter limit so the chapters might be all over the place. Anyway. Enjoy :)

Kagami feels hollow. She felt hollow as she closed the door of the locker room. She felt hollow as she walked out of Françoise Dupont. She felt hollow as she made her way down the stone steps at the entrance of the collège. The sound of her shoes making contact with the ground made Kagami feel especially hollow —the only sound that rang in her ears. Said shoes carried her to Tatsu's red door. Eyes found the car’s window, Kagami grimaced at her own reflection.

She clutched Tatsu’s handle and swung the backseat door open, hoping to flee from her own eyes. Her head hung low, eyes on her lap, as she closed the door. Slowly, she lifted her head to face the window and the collège’s front gates. She took a deep breath before turning her eyes forward. “Take me home, Tatsu.”

The collège disappeared as Tatsu moved forward. Kagami exhaled. Her hands found their way into her fencing bag and she slowly retrieved her phone from the bundle of clothes and protein bars. She steeled herself as her phone lit up. The screen read 6:09 against a familiar picture Kagami had taken that day at the San Martin Canal. They were seated at the canal’s edge, Adrien’s chin smudged with ice cream and Kagami smiling giddily at having caught this momentary clumsiness. Adrien, oblivious to the desert decorating his face, grinning at the camera and leaning close to her. She pursed her lips as she felt a pang to her chest, and opened settings with a decisive press of the home button. Their twin smiles disappeared from her lock screen, replaced with an old picture of the Eiffel Tower— one she had taken when she’d first arrived in Paris. She’d grown accustomed to it by now, but the large monument had seemed so mystical when she first saw it.

A sense of exhaustion came over her and she let her neck fall backwards. Head falling on the seat’s headrest, the car’s ceiling filled her vision.

Had this been a mistake?

Kagami had always been rational. Her mother valued logic above all, putting her stakes only in what she could hope to benefit from. Mother had taught this principle to Kagami at an early age, and Kagami had taken it to heart. She put a lot of effort into her passions, assured that her work would pay off. She took her future seriously, recognizing that it would reflect all of her present decisions. She didn’t goof off or blow off responsibilities. She did her best to control her sometimes reckless personality. She wasn’t disobedient. And she certainly didn’t waste her time in mindless relationship games. But here she was now. Kagami had gone about dating Adrien the way she did most things: straight to the point, and with a set goal in mind. She had been decisive, and she wasted no time dancing around her feelings, thinking that it would pay off, like all other things had in her life. Sitting alone in a car, heartbroken, had not been the outcome she predicted. Could she have miscalculated?

Somewhere inside herself, she understood that she had been very clear about her feelings, and had worked hard to maintain their relationship– at times, even foolishly bended some of her values just to get closer to him. Adrien had been the one to lie, and had always been more apprehensive with his affection, like he was holding back and holding on at the same time. Right now though, Kagami doubted herself. She’d never been the type to, but maybe while she was blinded by her affections for Adrien, she’d lost herself.

Her mother would be disappointed. Kagami hadn’t exactly told her of their relationship, and thinking of the times she did stuff she would disapprove of just to spend time with Adrien, Kagami wasn’t sure if she wanted to. God.

Kagami had been so eager to get closer to Adrien, and latched on as soon as Adrien began to reciprocate her stares, she had acted foolishly hadn’t she?

Her eyes eventually found the window again, but she regretted it as soon as her eyes laid on the glossy dark waters of the San Martin Canal. She saw the green leaves of trees painted on the water’s surface.

Something coiled in her chest.

“Tatsu, stop.”

Suddenly overcome with emotion, Kagami pushed the car door open and exited onto the aligned stone slabs of the sidewalk. The door closed behind her, body facing the canal. A breeze swept Kagami’s bangs out of her face, drying the prickle of tears at the edge of her eyes. She walked closer to the canal and peered at her figure reflected on the water, her hands bunched in her skirt. The water was too far away for any of her features to be distinguishable but she stared at her reflection– her head of dark hair a blob dancing on the canal’s ripples. Her fists slowly unclenched and she lowered herself to the canal’s edge.

As her eyes followed the ripple of the water, Kagami wondered if getting overly self conscious about this break up was what was irrational. Obviously most relationships ended, and she couldn't expect her first lover to be her last. A memory of telling ladybug her and Adrien were meant to be crossed Kagami’s mind. She grimaced, cringing at the memory. Kagami had said it with bold certainty, confident that there was something special between them–an understanding she’d never experienced with anyone else. She hoped that maybe… that would be the case, once Adrien was ready he would apologize and realize what she had long ago. He didn’t trust her now though, so what assured her he ever would. Maybe the wound was too fresh to wonder about the future.

Kagami closed her eyes and felt another gust of wind flutter against her eyelids. She stood back up and began to walk along the canal.

As she walked further and further from Tatsu, she began to realize another issue. Was she going to ignore Adrien? She had told him she didn’t want to stay friends. Adrien’s distrust had stung her deeply– she had, after all, put a lot of energy and time into their relationship, and just returning to their old dynamic felt wrong. Were they just supposed to not acknowledge any of the remaining tension?

Adrien hiding stuff from her would sting regardless of their relationship, she cared very deeply for him– friend or lover. Kagami had to remind herself: don’t waste time and energy on fruitless efforts. If Adrien wasn’t gonna let up, Kagami would stop giving him the time of day. The opportunity to hurt her. She felt justified in her harshness, though Adrien was one of the only friends she’d ever had. Kagami began to wonder if any of this would seem ridiculous to someone more understanding and emotionally intelligent– Kagami admitted she felt short in that regard.

She admittedly was too caught up thinking of ways to figure this out to pay much attention to her surroundings. Mid thought, something slammed into her, or rather she slammed into someone. Kagami stumbled backwards, almost losing her footing but catching herself at the last minute. As soon as she regained her balance she looked up at the offended party to apologize. She was met with a familiar pair of blue bell eyes. Before she could muster up a ‘sorry’, Marinette beat her to it.

“Kagami! I’m so sorry! I was distracted and wasn’t looking where I was going.”

Her face was somewhat obstructed by boxes stacked on her arms- which she noticed were now off center.

“I’m sorry too, Marinette; I was also distracted.”

Marinette readjusted the boxes. “No, it was probably more on me. My limbs seem to have a mind of their own, a lot of people have fallen victim to my clumsiness.” Marinette’s face scrunched embarrassment.

“Well you are the one carrying boxes, I just bypassed pedestrian etiquette in my mindless daydreaming.”

Kagami could make out Marinette’s smile even with the obstruction to her face.

“That’s just like you to think getting distracted is a lapse of ‘pedestrian etiquette’.” She chuckled at Marinette’s phrasing of ‘pedestrian etiquette’. Marinette’s eyes peered at her quizzically.

“Are you alone, Kagami?”

“I am.”

That seemed to confuse Marinette as she looked around Kagami.

“I don’t mean to pry, but why are you walking down the San Martin Canal?”

Kagami looked back to the canal’s waters.

“I suppose...”, She tried to find an excuse as she faced Marinette again, " I thought the walk would be some nice, light exercise.” Marinette raised an eyebrow at her.

“Right after fencing? Shouldn’t you be having a meal?”

She was surprised that Marinette had any knowledge in the dietary guidelines of athletes. She’d never mentioned partaking in any active hobby to Kagami.

“I was just trying it out. ''

Marinette still seemed confused but shrugged and didn’t press further. Kagami’s eyes shifted to the boxes Marinette was still carrying.

“And you? Is there a reason you’re walking down a canal with an armful of boxes?”

Marinette seemed to remember what she was holding as her eyes flickered to the packages in front of her.

“Oh, right. I’m just making a delivery for the bakery.”

Kagami was now the one to question her with a raised eyebrow.

“On foot? With that tall of a stack?”

Her expression turned sheepish. “Bad idea in retrospect, considering my clumsiness and all.”

Kagami couldn’t help but smile. “What if I help you?”

Marinette’s eyes widened. “With my delivery?”

Kagami nodded.

“What about your light exercise?”

“Whether it be going home or making a delivery I’m still walking.”

Marinette’s cheeks pinked. “Oh, uh, guess you’re right.”

She approached Marinette and reached for the top couple of boxes, taking them into her arms and waiting for Marinette to readjust her arms again.

“Okay, it’s only two blocks from here.”

Marinette began to walk and Kagami moved to follow her pace.

“Do you often make deliveries for your parents’ bakery?”

“When they need to be done yeah; it’s my way of helping out.”

Kagami looked at her profile, her pigtails more hastily tied than usual and her cheeks a paler pink than she was used to.

“Have they been keeping you busy?”

“Ah, no more than usual.”

Marinette met her eyes momentarily and Kagami wondered if those were eyebags under her eyes.

“They try not to be too demanding.”

“Really?... Have you been testing lately?”

She saw Marinette turn to her and could almost feel her puzzlement.

“Uh, no?...”

Marinette faced the walkway again.

“Why do you ask?”

“I just haven’t heard from you lately.”

There was a pause.

“I’ve just been caught up in some stuff.”

Kagami sensed she didn’t want to elaborate so she kept her questions to herself.

“Well, It’s nice to see you, even in a somewhat odd situation.”

“I’m glad to see you too.”

Her smile became soft.

“I haven’t seen much of you either, but I understand you’ve also been… busy.”

The silence that followed hung for a second too long. Kagami wasn’t sure how she should interpret that— she’d never explicitly told Marinette about her and Adrien, but they hadn’t really hid their affection. “I…” Kagami sighed. “Yeah, I have been distracted with other… stuff.”

The silence continued and Kagami considered even noting the weather to fill it. Before she could stew in the silence any longer, Marinette cut through it with a boldness she wasn’t accustomed to seeing from her.

“How are things with Adrien?”

Kagami suddenly felt very insecure and the packages of pastries in her arms felt heavier.

“We weren’t very subtle were we?”

Marinette considered her question.

“You two have been getting pretty chummy for a while.”

“... I can see what you mean.”

“You know, it’s okay. I just really hope you don’t drop me, so you guys better not stop hanging out with me.”

Marinette’s attempt at lightening the mood was stunted by the tension. Kagami was too preoccupied with finding the right response to care.

“Well, of course, I wouldn’t abandon our relationship for Adrien.”

Kagami was too consumed in her nerves to notice the change in tone of Marinette’s silence.

“You don’t have to worry about my schedule being full though.”

Marinette laughed.

“Kagami, it’s natural for couples to spend a lot of time together, you don’t have to make time you don’t have for me. Don’t worry, I have other people I can get orange juice with.” She swallowed.

“I don’t doubt you do.”

They approached a crossroad and Marinette turned, Kagami following after her. She let it out before she decided against it.

“What I meant to say, is that you don’t have to worry about my schedule being full anymore.”

Marinette stopped abruptly but Kagami expected it. Her expression was hard to decipher.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that”, Kagami stepped closer to her. “Adrien’s no longer going to be taking up my time.”

Marinette’s eyebrows slowly furrowed, she searched her face and Kagami hoped Marinette couldn’t make out her insecurity.

“You…”

“We did.”

She faced forward once again. “It’s been the case for all of a half an hour.”

“Oh, God, Kagami, I’m so sorry.”

Kagami turned to shoot her a frown. Marinette shut her mouth before she could begin her rambling. She might not be feeling like herself but she still wasn’t below taking her pity.

“Obviously I’m still processing but quite honestly, the break up actually happened last night.”

“Oh.”

“I won’t need to see him until our next fencing lesson so I’ll have time to figure something out.”

They finally continued to walk.

“I mean, I bet Adrien will make an effort to keep things friendly.”

“That’s exactly what I fear.”

“What do you mean?”

Kagami kept her eyes forward. “I’m not planning on keeping our relationship as friendly as it was before.”

She hoped she didn’t sound bitter.

“That bad, huh?”

“Adrien made his decisions so I made mine.”

Kagami definitely sounded bitter.

“Well, then I guess you should start making time for another juice date.”

Marinette’s smile felt reassuring. She slowed down and stopped in front of a pair of glass doors. Kagami could make out a lobby from the large windows on either side.

“We’re here by the way.”

Kagami went ahead and opened one of the doors, holding it for Marinette who had the taller stack of boxes. Marinette allowed her act of chivalry and entered, Kagami following behind her. She looked around the lobby as Marinette advanced to the front desk, eyeing the cushions taking up most of the room, and wondering who had thought buying several loveseats for such a small lobby was a good idea. Marinette returned before Kagami could criticize the internal design further.

“Okay, we should be able to just go up and knock on the door.”

They made their way to the elevator and Marinette pressed the button to the fourth floor. They stood in silence for a few seconds.

“It wasn’t just me that noticed the disgusting orange loveseats was it?” Kagami smirked “I also noticed their incompatibility with the room, though I was more worried with the amount of floor plan they took up.” Marinette scoffed, “More like incompatibility with my eyes.”

This time Kagami actually laughed. The elevator doors opened and they made their way into a hallway lined with numbered doors.

“Okay, I think it was apartment 127.”

They scanned the doors until finding it: apartment 127. Kagami knocked and they waited for an answer. Kagami could hear the muted sound of rock music and laughter. Finally, the door’s handle shook and the door swung open. A short woman with brown hair dyed red stood at the entrance, her eyes taking them and their armful of boxes in.

“Oh, the pastries are here!” The woman pushed the door open further, and turned her head to the apartment.

“Arthur! Come help me with the pastries.” The woman turned back to them “Sorry, lovelies, I’ll get those off ya in a sec.” A man poked his head before joining the four of them at the entrance. He was significantly taller than the woman but had the same red hair.

“Those smell good”, he grinned.

“I can assure they taste just as good”, Marinette responded, sugar sweet, in what Kagami guessed was her customer service voice. The woman and man reached out and took the boxes from them and Kagami was glad to have the weight off her arms. She stretched them out as the woman looked through her wallet and placed some bills in Marinette’s hands. “Thank you, have a nice day, ma’am.”

“Have a nice day too, ladies.”

Marinette smiled at them as they closed the door. Then she also stretched her arms with a sigh. “Okay, let’s go.”

They entered the elevator, returned to the lobby, and then exited the apartment complex.

Marinette turned to her. “Thank you so much, Kagami, people don’t tend to order so much so it was probably for the best I ran into you.”

“It wasn’t a bother,” she could feel the smile on her lips, “It was also nice to catch up with you.”

Marinette grinned at her. “Well, I guess I’ll see you at another time. You should probably call Tatsu, you’ve had enough exercise for today.”

“Oh, are you my trainer, Marinette?”

“I’m your friend, so I’m more important.”

Kagami couldn’t argue with that. An idea popped into her brain and she pursed her lips.

“Let me walk you home, Marinette.”

Marinette blinked at her.

“Walk me home?”

“Yes.” She nodded awkwardly, “Walk you home.”

“Shouldn't you be home by now?”

That made Kagami pause— it was true her mother would figure out her absence pretty soon.

“It’s fine, I’ll just text my mother.”

“But you must be tired, I really wasn’t kidding about the exercise thing.”

Kagami disliked when people coddled her, but Marinette’s worry did actually make her feel cared for.

“I’ll be fine, Marinette, I always make sure to carry extra protein bars in my bag.”

Kagami paused and furrowed her brows. “That is unless you’d rather walk home alone, I’m sorry if my request was brash.”

Marinette shook her hands. “No, no, I just didn’t want you to over exert yourself. I know you always give it your all at your fencing practices.”

While Kagami had had a tiring day, Marinette’s company has helped both the ache of her muscles and her chest.

“I’m not that tired, besides,” Kagami moved to stand beside her, “we haven’t talked about our juice date.” She was rewarded with a bright smile.

“Okay, fine, if you’re sure.” Marinette began to walk and Kagami was right beside her.

“You know, I’ve always wanted to ask you where in the world you found a red lamé?”

“Well, Marinette, I pride myself in my dedication.”

They fell into step with each other, letting the conversation flow naturally. As they made their way through the streets of Paris, Kagami listened intently to Marinette’s rambling about old fabric dyeing techniques she’d been looking into. They finally found their way to Marinette’s doorstep and they waved each other goodbye.

She was aware she might return home to a lecture, but as Kagami saw Marinette enter her home, she recognized she felt better.

--------

Marinette rested her back on a chimney, her eyes raking over the other rooftops, waiting for an unexpected attack to pop out of them at any second. Chat was similarly seated next to her, though he didn’t seem quite as on edge as Marinette felt.

Now that the duo had to worry about Shadow Moth, Marinette felt like she was on edge as soon as she transformed. Chat sensed her unease, and regularly attempted to ease her tension with a lighthearted joke. Marinette appreciated his efforts, but she also didn’t want to be distracted —just in case.

She drummed her fingers on her lap and wondered if maybe they should move to a higher vantage point. Maybe they should start making their patrols more active, circling the whole city instead of just moving to a few locations and watching. If there was going to be an akumatization tonight, Marinette hoped it would appear already. Now that she had a gaggle of kwamis to look after, Marinette’s responsibilities seemed to have doubled. She really couldn’t slack off in her schoolwork, or her duties as class rep, or her obligations to the bakery— she knew wedding season was coming up so her parents were going to really need her help. That wasn’t even mentioning all of the personal issues Marinette didn’t know how to tackle. She seemed to have been able to keep a low radar so far, but any second now her friends would figure out the earlier day’s events.

Marinette really didn’t want to think about Juleka’s reaction.

Marinette’s thrumming speed up.

Chat must have seen the anxious twitch of her fingers. “You know, it’s getting late, there probably won’t be any trouble tonight.”

Her eyes flickered to the blonde. “We haven’t checked the south-eastern side of the city.”

“I can go check on my way home.”

Marinette thought about protesting, but she could make out the worry etched onto the line of his eyebrows. His mop of hair caught her eye, messier than she was usd to— almost like it was drooping. She wondered if she wasn’t the only one having a hard time.

“You go to school so you should probably get home and rest.”

“You also go to school”, Marinette noted.

Chat’s replying chuckle felt empty.

“I’m not going to be sleeping anytime soon .” Marinette hoped it wasn’t defeat what she heard in his voice. She regarded his usually vibrant eyes, now dulled with an exhaustion Marinette could recognize.

“You too huh?”

Chat broke eye contact to look out at the Paris scenery. Marinette did the same, gazing at the endless darkness of the sky.

“It’s been a hard week.”

She could only hum in agreement.

Her suit protected her from the cold, but Marinette’s face felt icy in the night’s dropping temperature.

“Is it a personal problem?”

“Well, I think Shadow Moth has both of us on edge, but mostly yeah.”

Chat fiddled with the cuffs of his gloves. She’d always been a proponent of keeping everything private, only revealing what was necessary, but something about Chat’s frown bothered Marinette.

“I can listen.”

Chat’s head shot up, his expression one of surprise. Marinette tried to convey comfort through her own expression. “Really?”

“As long as you keep it vague. I’ve been told I’m a good listener.”

His responding smile was small, but Marinette was glad for it nonetheless.

“Well, um, okay.”

Marinette relaxed against the chimney and Chat changed his posture to face her more.

“I started seeing someone recently.”

Marinette’s eyes widened but she kept quiet.

“We were friends beforehand and I realized I liked her, so I thought it would be a good idea.” Chat exhaled. “I’m Chat Noir though, so we couldn’t keep it up.”

Understanding washed over her.

“She was pretty upset, and now… she told me she no longer wanted to have any type of relationship.”

Chat’s eyes stared at the ground(rooftop rather.) Marinette reached for him without thinking. Chat looked at the hand she placed on his shoulder, and then at her. His eyes told her he received the message:

I understand

She leaned in and hugged him. They sat like that for a few seconds, enjoying each other’s warmth, before they separated.

“I think you’re right. We should go home.”

Chat nodded and they both stood up, still facing each other.

“Chat… I know we can’t exactly hang out, but you’re my friend, so if you need anything...”

Chat nodded.

“Thank you, ladybug.”

They shared a smile before going their separate ways.

--------

Marinette was later than usual. The classroom’s tone felt different than yesterday, and Marinette read it immediately. She apologized and took her seat, trying not to meet anyone’s eyes. She could feel Alya’s on her all hour though, but she kept her eyes forward. All of her attention was focused on Mme. Bustier, Marinette throwing herself into the coursework to try and ignore the impending questions. The scratch of graphite on paper worked as a background to Mme. Bustier’s voice, and it did a good job at keeping Marinette’s mind occupied with work.

So much so that Marinette almost didn’t hear the bell.

She stared through the paper in front of her, her fingers tightening around the pencil in her hand. She could feel more eyes on her now.

Recognizing that she could no longer ignore Alya, Marinette picked herself up from her hunched posture and turned to her. Like she predicted, Alya was looking right at her. She didn’t attempt to decode the emotions in the hazel of Alya’s eyes.

She stood up and Marinette knew to follow. Mylène, Rose, Alix, and Juleka were behind them as they made their way out of the classroom. Alya stopped next to a bench and sent Marinette a look, communicating to her that she should sit down. Marinette complied. She studied Alya’s face, and Marinette disliked that the tension in it looked more like worry than displeasure— Marinette didn’t want to lie to Alya when she was looking at her with concern. Alya sighed and she sat beside her, the other girls sitting around them. Marinette thrummed her fingers, waiting for Alya’s words.

She directed them at Alix though.

“Alix, would you like to tell Marinette what you told me?”

Alix met eyes with Marinette before facing Alya. “Recently I heard something from Mylène about Marinette.”

She blew a bubble with her bubblegum and it’s pop unsettled Marinette.

“I think she knows what I’m talking about.”

Marinette sighed before rubbing her arms self consciously. She looked around at their faces— they were waiting for her but Marinette didn’t know what to tell them. She remembered the walk she’d had with Kagami some days ago. Kagami had noticed her exhaustion so soon, she could only wonder how long it must have taken her best friend.

“Do you not want to tell us what happened?”

“Um, no, no, I just… It’s just complicated, I’m not sure I’m even done processing what happened.”

Alya placed a hand on her shoulder. They all understood.

“I, well. I’ll tell you.”

Marinette took a deep breath and tried to work out what parts she had to modify.

“You guys know I’ve had feelings for Adrien all year. For months I’ve had this giant crush on him.” He heard some hums of agreement.

“These past few months I’ve actually begun to talk to him, and for a while now we’ve been friends. Somewhere during that time, I started to get to know different sides of Adrien, and my feelings deepened. I began to think that maybe he could actually like me back. I felt like we were finally connecting... But I think I’ve slowly come to realize that Adrien doesn't think about me like that.” Marinette could hear her voice lowering so she coughed and looked up. “I had to come to terms that Adrien liked someone else, loved someone else.” She tried not to think about Kagami’s words.

“Luka, he was always so sweet. With Adrien, I felt like this spluttering blubbering mess.” She sighed. “No wonder he didn’t like me back, all of my clumsiness gets turned up to a hundred around him. Even once my stuttering calmed down somewhat as we became closer, I feel like a mess around him even now.”

Alya scoffed like she’d been the one to be insulted.

“Marinette, you’re so incredibly smart and clever. You’re also kind and you don’t hesitate to help others. If Adrien hasn’t realized that yet then that’s not your fault.” She tried not to think about how Adrien was all of those things, but more. Or how Kagami was also all of those things, but yet they still…

Marinette didn’t let herself dwell on it.

“That’s something Luka would have told me.”

Alya fell silent.

“Luka made me feel like I could just be. It was easy to talk to him, and when he told me he had feelings for me… I felt like maybe we could work.”

Her eyes flickered to Juleka, but her expression hadn’t changed much.

“My feelings for Adrien were hard to ignore though. I think Luka could tell.”

“I really did like Luka. I just, I feel like I got him caught up in my emotional mess and hurt him.”

Marinette stopped thrumming her fingers and dug them into the fabric of her pants. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you guys. I’ve been busy and I haven’t been able to reflect on the break up yet.” Marinette looked around all of them, their faces sympathetic.

Rose stood up and wrapped her arms around Marinette. She pulled back and Marinette could see tears rimming her eyes.

“You don’t have to apologize to us, Marinette.”

“Yeah, it sounds like you’ve been having a rough time”, Mylène piped up.

Alya’s hand slid from her shoulder to her back. Marinette appreciated the act of comfort.

“Thank you guys, for being understanding. I just need some time.”

“Of course, Mari, just tell us if you need some hang out buddies to turn your brain off with.” Alix didn’t join them in their huddle around the bench, but her smile was softer than her usual smirk.

“Of course”, Marinette grinned, she could feel the mood lifting. “If any of you would like to get your butts kicked in Ultimate Mecha Strike III, you know who you can call.”

Rose and Mylène giggled, parting from Marinette so she could look up at them better. Marinette couldn’t tell them everything but she genuinely felt her mood lift.

The bell rang.

Marinette felt like now she could scratch that off her list of things to worry about.

She was about to stand up as the other girls smiled and made their way back when she turned to Alya. She was staring at her intensely, like she was analyzing Marinette.

“Uh, Alya? We should make our way back.”

Alya continued to stare at Marinette. Marinette swallowed and clutched the edge of the bench. Finally, Alya crossed her arms and stood up. She didn’t move to make their way back though.

“Alya, we’re going to be late.”

“You’re still hiding something.”

Marinette’s mouth shut. Alya just continued to bore holes through her.

“H-Hiding something?”

“Luka knew you were in love with Adrien since before. He would have been fine with waiting for you to get over him.”

“But I couldn't, okay. I was hurting him and we couldn’t-”

“Marinette, I’m your best friend, you know you can tell me anything, right?”

Marinette wanted to say she couldn’t actually. She bunched her fist in her jacket instead.

“If this is about me not being the one to tell you, I already apologized. I really am sorry, but I just wasn't in the right headspace.”

“When you’re not in the right headspace your emotions tend to spill over. You’re not the type to stew in your feelings.” Marinette narrowed her eyes at her, annoyed at how factual she’d made it sound.

“Don’t act like you know everything about me, Alya.”

Alya’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. Marinette swallowed.

“I mean…” She sighed.

“Again, I’m not in the right headspace. Let’s just go to class.” Marinette left and didn’t look back to see if Alya followed.

--------

After class, Marinette shot some smiles at the girls. She apologized to Alya but she could tell she wanted to press further. She left before Alya could protest.

Marinette entered the bakery and greeted her parents, masking her mood with a bright smile.

“Hey Maman, hey Papa.”

“Hello, sweet buns. How was your day?”

Marinette circled the counter and joined them behind it.

“It was alright. Mme. Mendeleive started rambling about this guy called Louis Le Prince near the end of class. It was hard to follow but apparently he invented the camera before Eddison.”

Her mom smiled fondly at her.

“I didn’t know that. I hope that means she didn’t assign you any homework.”

They smirked at each other.

“You’d be right, Maman.”

Marinette didn’t say she was slightly disappointed about it. Her mind needed a distraction. And almost like she’d read her mind, her mother perked up, her expression somewhat sheepish.

“Would you be a dear and help us out with an order for waffle cookies. Me and papa are working on decorating a wedding cake.”

Marinette grinned at her mother.

“Of course, Maman.”

Her mother informed her of the specifics for the order before making her way back to her husband.

Marinette set her bag down on a corner and rolled up her sleeves, plugging in her headphones before reaching for the bottles of ingredients and bowls she would need. She scrolled through her Jagged Stone playlist as she plugged in the waffle iron, once finally settling on an album, stuffing her phone in her back pocket as she found her way back to the table. Marinette tried to get lost in the mindless task of measuring and mixing, making sure to be very meticulous so her mind could only focus on teaspoons of vanilla and cups of flour. These tasks were second nature to her anyway though, so eventually her mind wandered.

Marinette hoped that she’d be able to smooth things over with Alya tomorrow, but she knew how stubborn she could be— Alya wouldn’t stop questioning Marinette. Marinette was so tired of the lies. She’d been lying to Alya almost the entirety of their friendship, and Marinette hated that she was getting better at it. She could just continue to lie to her, it was probably what she would end up doing, but what if Marinette didn’t? What if she just told her the truth.

Marinette fumbled with the mixer before pouring her mixture of ingredients onto the mixing bowl. The sound of the mixer competed with the loud music of her headphones, but more thoughts kept crawling into her mind.

Marinette would admit that at times she wished she didn’t have to. It would be so nice to confide in someone who understood what being a highschooler was like, and who also had some experience with the whole superhero thing. The danger was obvious though. She’d be putting Alya’s security at risk, and hers as well of course. So much was at stake so she couldn’t even entertain the thought. That the weight of being Paris’ greatest superhero while being a seventeen year old high schooler was finally dawning on her.

The mixture of ingredients quickly turned into dough, and she began to scoop up balls of it with her fingers, morphing them into walnut sized balls.

How could Marinette be Marinette when she had to be ladybug? She had dreams she was trying to pursue, as well as responsibilities as a student and daughter. However, she also had a duty to Paris to protect its people. The reality was one she couldn’t afford to forget. These days it felt like she had to be ladybug more and more, her persona bleeding into her everyday. Maybe it was all the hiding and lying that was slowly becoming part of her personality.

Her fingers dug into the dough a bit too hard and ended up making a hole through the ball of dough. She sighed at the tiny doughnut in her hands before reshaping it.

Trust was such an important part of relationships but there was no one Marinette could trust with her secret. And as ladybug continued to dominate her life, Marinette felt as if she’d never be able to invest herself fully in one. Marinette couldn’t giver herself whole if she had to hide half of herself.

She began to line the dough balls, checking the waffle iron.

Marinette hoped she’d be allowed to just be her soon enough. She could dedicate all her time to progressing in her aspirations, accomplishing her responsibilities, and maintaining her relationships.

She sprayed the waffle iron with cooking spray.

Leaving ladybug ...meant leaving Chat Noir too though.

Her eyes studied the dots of cooking spray on the iron.

Fingers pressed into the dough as she placed them along the iron. She lowered the lid slowly.

Maybe… just maybe, they’d find each other after.

The smell of the cookies crisping began to waft over her, Marinette leaned against the table, propping her arms on the surface and closing her eyes as she focused on the smell. The kitchen was warm, and she could hear a bit of the tune her Maman was humming through her headphones. Jagged Stone’s guitar began to quiet down.

It could be that they would never see each other again after that.

Her gaze dropped to her hands, knuckles white with flour and fingertips sticky with residue dough. Her left thumb reached for her right hand and she began to fidget with her ring finger. How did Chat’s miraculous look when he wasn’t transformed? Marinette wondered if she’d be able to recognize it. After all, she doubted anyone would be able to recognize her superheroine persona shining through her fumbling civilian identity. Was Chat just as exuberant in real life? Her mind pondered what kind of teenager Chat would be like. He probably had a lot of friends, and he was probably a bit of an attention seeker. Marinette’s face softened. She bet he was insufferably kind. His friends were very lucky, they could enjoy being Chat’s friends without the weight of thousands of people’s lives on their shoulders. If they met without the masks, would they be friends?

She flattened her hands against the table, tracing circles with her fingers on the flour dusting it. The next song on her playlist began to start. The sweet smell of the cookies continued to fill her nose.

Actually…

Marinette sniffed the air.

“Eek-”

She tried to find the timer somewhere, realizing she hadn’t even taken it out. Scrambling to lift the waffle iron lid’s, Marinette bumped into the table, her hip bone knocking against the table’s edge. She yelped and clutched her hip. Too late, Marinette realized the uncapped vanilla extract bottle. She tried to stop its fall but the bottle tumbled and knocked against a bowl before falling on its side. The dark liquid spilled onto the wood immediately, and Marinette panicked as it pooled around bowls.

“Marinette?”

She only responded with a strained chuckle as she lifted the bottle off the table and regarded the pool of vanilla. “Sorry, I just spilled some extract.”

Her mother glanced from the wedding cake.

“Oh, honey, clean it up before it stains too badly.”

Marinette nodded and rushed to find some paper towels to absorb the extract. She pushed the bowls out of the way and pressed the paper towels onto the table, the white paper quickly turning dark even as the pool of liquid disappeared. Her eyes scanned the room for a rag as she replaced the paper towels. Her hands reached for the nearest one and took it, scrubbing at the surface, praying that the stain would lighten if she placed it next to a window. Suddenly, Marinette remembered what her original plan was as the air turned bitter. Her hands fumbled to open the waffle iron, revealing the now overly brown cookies. She plucked them off the iron and placed them on a cooling rack. As she reached for the last one, her pinky brushed against the hot metal and she hissed, biting her lip and scowling as she rubbed at the burn.

“Today is not my day”, Marinette mumbled.

Her mother shot a glance in her direction again, her brows painted with concern. “Are you okay, sweetheart?”

“I’m fine, Maman, just a little burn.” Marinette sighed. “I’ll be right back.”

She left her parents in the bakery, climbing the stairs to her home. She pushed the door open with her body and found her way into the bathroom. Marinette opened the faucet and slid her red pinky over the cool water. The change in temperature helped the pain and she exhaled deeply.

Her eyes found her reflection on the mirror and she couldn’t help but scowl. She’d been donning a ‘finals week’ kinda tired on her face– cheeks pale, eyebags deep, and pigtails almost coming undone– but now she also had flour dusting it. She couldn’t wait for this week to end. It was still the middle of the week though, so Marinette guessed she’d need to work extra hard to make it speed by. Her other hand found the faucet and closed it. The towel bothered her skin as she toweled her hands dry, but she hoped it would calm down soon enough. She made her way out of the bathroom, and turned to the kitchen. Swinging the cooler open and scanning its interior, Marinette took a napkin and plucked an ice cube off the ice rack. She closed the cooler before swinging her body onto the counter— her Maman wasn’t here so no one had to know.

The ice was a bit harsh on the burn, but Marinette was looking to numb the pain so she pressed tightly against her pinky. A quiet chuckle passed through her lips. It’d be neat if she could have some numbing ice for other aspects of herself. As she jokingly wondered how that’d work, she realized her mother was calling out to her.

“Marinette!”

She blinked at her Maman’s voice but made her way to the stairs, poking her head down to the bakery.

“Yes, Maman?” Her mother appeared from around the corner.

“There’s a girl here asking for you, honey.”

Panic rose up her throat. Was it Alya? Marinette wasn’t ready to confront her, and she needed time to come up with something to feed to her.

“She brought you some orange juice.”

Marinette frowned at her mother. Orange juice?

Tension left her face.

Her Maman knew Alya pretty well, so Marinette supposed it’d be weird of her not to just tell her it was Alya. Making her ways down the steps, Marinette looked around the bakery. A blue bob and white jacket was the first thing she registered.

“Kagami?”

The girl was standing somewhat awkwardly in front of the counter, two plastic cups in her hands.

“Good afternoon, Marinette.” Kagami’s greeting smile was stiff on her face.

“Hey, Kagami.” Marinette responded simply, she walked towards her, and weaved around the counter. She swept her hand over her cheeks.

“Sorry I was just baking.”

“You look fine, Marinette.”

“Really? I remember a few days ago you mentioned I looked pretty bad.”

“Well, you do look tired.”

Marinette shook her head. “I can’t argue with you on that.”

The logo on the plastic cups Kagami was carrying was familiar.

“So did you just drop by to give me orange juice?”

Kagami brought the cups up to her chest. “Well”, Kagami shifted her weight from one foot onto the other, “I was hoping you’d have some with me.”

“Oh”

“Then in that case.” Marinette turned to her parents, who were probably already listening,

“Can I finish the cookies later?”

“Sure, honey, just cover the dough up.”

Marinette nodded and signaled Kagami to follow her. They walked past the counter and into the actual bakery, Marinette took some wide plates and lined the dough balls on them. She took some seran wrap and covered them, setting them off to the side. She swept her hands together to shake off any remaining flour and turned to Kagami.

“Okay, follow me.”

She led her around the corner and to the stairs. Kagami glanced around.

“So this is what leads to your actual home?”

She followed Marinette up the steps.

“Yep. The first floor is just the bakery.”

She pushed the door open and moved to let Kagami in first. Kagami took her home in. The white couch decorated with throw pillows; the kitchen with their bright blue refrigerator; the three windows spilling sunlight through grey curtains. Marinette closed the door behind them. Kagami stepped into the kitchen, her eyes roaming over the fridge. Marinette joined her.

“Weird color for a home appliance, right?”

Kagami glanced back at her, but reached her hands up to a photo on the cooler’s door, her fingertips grazing it.

“Is this a relative of yours?”

Marinette glanced at what she was looking at. The photo was a few years old, Marinette was sprawled out on the couch that was currently right behind them. A teenage boy leaning on said couch was teasing Marinette with a feather. Her face was scrunched up as said boy tickled it with the feather. They were both grinning though.

“Oh.” Marinette smiled at the picture. “That’s my older brother actually.”

Kagami’s brow questioned her, surprise evident on her face. “I wasn’t aware you had a brother.”

“Yeah, I guess I don’t talk about him enough. His name is Anthony.”

“Does he live here?”

“Oh, no, he’s studying abroad right now. He wasn’t able to come during Christmas but he’ll be here during the summer.”

Kagami seemed to mull over this information. She kept her eyes on the photo. “What was it like?” Marinette looked at her quizzically. “ Growing up with a sibling, I mean”, She clarified.

Marinette snorted. “Annoying, no one else knows how to tick you off like a sibling.” She wiggled her fingers as she presented the picture. “Exhibit here.”

“Really? I don’t know if that sound… enjoyable.”

“Pfft, well growing up with siblings is definitely pretty bothersome.” Marinette nodded at her own comment. “Sometimes it's funny but being so close to someone before gaining any sense of maturity comes with annoying downfalls.”

“People have told me it’s sad I don’t have any siblings though.”

Marinette couldn’t read Kagami’s expression.

“That’s kinda rude of them.”

Kagami smiled at her response.

“I’ve always thought so too.” She set the orange juice on the nearest surface. “But I guess I wonder if siblings are worth all of their hype.”

Marinette thought about her brother. It’d been a while since he’d last seen him, and she’d never admit to it to him, but sometimes his absence made her home feel empty.

“It’s also really nice, having someone to grow up with. I get why they might have said that.” She shrugged. “It’s a unique bond.”

“So do you miss you brother?”

“Ugh, well it’s a pain to admit but yeah.”

Kagami smirked in amusement. Marinette reached for the orange juice Kagami had brought. “I didn’t know they had such cute to go cups.” Kagami took the other cup and followed Marinette as she made her way to the counter in the kitchen, each of them taking a seat.

“You're the type to always notice design.” It wasn't a question.

“Well I might specialize in fashion designing, but if something is cute then I’ll notice.” Marinette brought the straw up to her mouth. The orange juice was refreshing and Marinette humed against the straw in contentment. Kagami smiled at her drink as well.

“I love orange juice, but is there a specific reason you’re here?”

Kagami parted her mouth from the juice and shrugged. “I suppose we never actually set a date for that orange juice date.”

“Hmm, are you maybe trying to make time up with me?”

“Well I did want to see you.”

“I’m flattered by your honesty. But I bet you also wanted to see what a bakery-home was like.”

Kagami looked around the room again instead of responding.

“Your house is so small.”

“Oh, gee, I know it's no mansion.”

“No, I didn’t mean it in a degrading way.” Kagami’s eyes flitted to a particular tiger shaped pillow on the coach. It was an old comfort toy of Marinette. “It’s homely, and warm.”

“Well it is right above a bakery”, Marinette pointed out.

“It does smell of baked goods.”

“Come on Sunday mornings. Last week I woke up to lemon-berry savarin and palmier pastries.”

“Should I come every Sunday to guess the pastry of the week?”

“You're invited to taste it too.”

They both laughed.

“I can’t promise I’d be awake to greet you, Sundays are one of my holy sleeping-in days.”

“I see you value your sleep.”

“You could say that. Like you’ve noticed though, I look like a mess when I don’t get enough of it.” Kagami didn’t respond for a second.

“So you haven’t been getting much sleep?”

“Oh, ah”, Marinette laughed awkwardly. “No, spose I haven’t.”

“You have a lot of responsibilities.”

“That I do.” Marinette chewed on the straw of her juice.

“Thank you for coming actually, I’ve been having an off day.”

“Rough week?”

“Pretty much.”

They sat in a comfortable silence as their juice slowly disappeared. Marinette noted that Kagami looked better than she had the last time they’d met. Part of her wanted to ask how that whole thing was going for her, but did she actually want to know?

“So”, Kagami broke the silence first. “You make deliveries but you also bake?”

“Of course, what kind of baker’s daughter do you take me for?”

“Do your parents expect you to take on the bakery someday?” Marinette opened her mouth but then swallowed.

“They understand I have a dream for designing, but we still haven’t figured it out. They really want to keep the bakery alive.”

“Sorry, it seems like a complicated subject.”

“It is, but it’s okay.” Marinette slurped the last of her orange juice and set her cup down. “It really is okay though, a discussion for the future. Like you said, I have enough on my plate at the moment.” Kagami also finished her drink

“Well I hope the bakery stays open until next Sunday, I want to try the pastry of the week.”

Marinette giggled. “I’ll make sure to make you something special.”

“Do many people get the pleasure of tasting your baking?”

“Some lucky souls out there in Paris.”

“I trust you’re good then.”

“Well I think my baking is plenty tasty, I’m just a clutz.”

“So your clumsiness doesn't interfere with the taste?”

“No, it just endangers my safety, as well as anyone’s in a three meter radius”, Marinette sighed.

“I do read you as accident prone.”

“Don’t laugh but actually I stained the work table with vanilla extract and burned my pinky only a few minutes before you came.”

Kagami’s brows rose in surprise.

“Wow, really?”

“Yep”, Marinette grumbled, lifting her right hand up. It wasn’t so distinct anymore but her finger was still red. Kagami noticed.

“I see, does it still hurt?”

“Not really, I mean it’s not fun getting burned but I have thick skin so it’s okay.”

Kagami paused and looked at her, confused. “Thick skin?”

“I’ve been pricking my fingers with needles for years, scaring has made my skin thicker and less sensitive.”

“Oh, I had no idea.”

“Yeah, sometimes I get quite insecure about it. I don’t think a guy would appreciate holding hands with me. Girls are supposed to have soft skin or whatever.”

“I know what you mean, fencing has made me build my own callouses.”

“Oh that’s right, your fence training must have done a similar number on your hands.”

Kagami nodded holding her palms out on the countertop. “I have a similar insecurity.” Marinette gazed at her hands, she could make out the callouses. She leaned closer to Kagami, placing her left hand on the countertop too.

“May I?”

Kagami’s dark eyes considered her, her bangs almost completely covering her eyebrows— It made it hard at times to decipher her expression— said bangs bounced as Kagami nodded. Marinette moved her eyes from Kagami to her palms. She lifted her left hand, her knuckles grazing the cool countertop as it approached Kagami’s. Their skin touched, marinette’s index finger grazing Kagami’s pinky. Her touch was tentative as she brushed her fingertips over Kagami’s fingers and against the inside of Kagami’s hand. It was unexpectedly cool. Just like Kagami had said, the skin along her palm’s crease was distinctly tough and one could only wonder the years of training needed to result in such callouses. She studied Kagami’s hand. Her palm was more plush than her own, but her fingers were bonier, and they also had a yellow undertone that darkened around the edges of her hands and turned into the warm color of the rest of her body. Marinette found this information oddly fascinating.

Her eyes flitted to Kagami’s face. Her gaze was on Marinette’s fingers, and Marinette realized that she was caressing Kagami’s palm. She flushed and retracted her hand, drumming her fingers on the countertop.

“Um, your hands are pretty nice actually.”

Kagami’s hands curled into loose fists.

“They aren’t soft though.”

“No, but anyone can tell that your skin’s texture is the product of hours of hard work.”

Kagami didn’t respond, but Marinette could make out a whisper of a smile on her lips.

“They, uh, they’re cool too.. Nice and cool.” Marinette swallowed, embarrassed she’d actually said that. Kagami blinked at her and Marinette hoped she hadn’t made it weird.

“Your’s are warm.”

Marinette stopped her drumming.

“Yeah, that makes sense.”

“Baker’s daughter thing again?”

Marinette chuckled and looked at her own hands now. “Yep, exactly.” She ran her right thumb along the base of her left thumb. Her skin had more of a pink undertone which she knew she’d inherited from her papa. Marinette wondered if both of Kagami’s parents had warm undertones. She glimpsed in Kagami’s direction. Her eyes were on the countertop, somewhat hidden behind her bangs. Marinette realized how little she actually knew of Kagami. They hadn’t been friends for that long so maybe that was obvious. Was it one of those rich kid-strict parents thing?

A ringing broke her train of thought. Kagami sat up and reached for her pocket, hastily pulling her phone out. A frown pulled on her lips.

“Everything alright? Is your mom calling?”

“Just a text. She wants me to come home now/”

“Oh, do you need to be somewhere?”

“No, it’s just past the time I told her It’d be here.”

“Why does she need you home then?”

“She doesn't, she just doesn't like it when I don’t stick to my plans.” Kagami returned her phone to her pocket, she could make out her exasperation through her movements.

“You need to leave then.”

“I do. I’ve intruded long enough anyways.”

“Of course you haven’t. But I’ll walk you out.”

Marinette stood up and Kagami followed. They made their way back to the bakery. Kagami nodded her head at her parents, a small bow of her head. “Thank you for letting me come into your home, M. and Mme.Dupain-Cheng.”

“You're always welcome -”

“Kagami”, Marinette offered.

“You're always welcome, Kagami. Have a good night, sweetheart.”

“And you as well.”

They exited the bakery, Tatsu already waiting for her.

“Well, it was nice seeing you. Feel free to come again.”

“I enjoyed talking with you.” Kagami’s smile was warm, her statement genuine.

“Thank you for allowing me to stay.”

Marinette could feel her own smile on her face. She waved as Kagami entered the car and drove off. It was evening by now.

Marinette stood in front of her home. She felt better.

A/N:

It's been a while since I last saw some of the episodes so if anything seems off let me know. I don't know if Anthony will make an appearance but I love the Brother AU so I'm including it. Feedback is appreciated, especially since I don't have any beta readers, point out any mistakes please. -Rey :D

#Marigami #Kagaminette #marinette dupain cheng #Marinette #Kagami Tsurugi #Kagami #mlb #mlb fanfic #miraculous ladybug #ladybug #you keep me waitin’#ykmw

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strawberrylemonz · 3 years

Text

Disc(o) Boy

Part 4

Part 5 [CURRENT]

Part 6

DT: @bargledblocks @snapdragonfirefly @artistconk

“Chat, I’ve been thinking-”

“That’s not good.”

“Fuck you! You know what? I’m not telling you what I was going to tell you-! Oh, look at the sunset.”

Chat clucked and chuckled as Tommy pulled out his camera, snapping a photo. Humming as he waited for it to develop, he nodded to his voices.

“Can’t wait until I can get a new camera, one that can record, too! Don’t get me wrong, the camcorder dad left behind works well, but it’s becoming a hassle, innit?”

The sound of disembodied voices harmonizing agreed with the child, watching as he put away the photo, swapping it with his water bucket. Jumping off the side of his cliff, he hummed as he landed perfectly, avoiding damage.

“Poggers.”

Phil couldn’t help but smile at his youngest son, watching as he conversed with his voices in a friendly manner. He was certainly skilled at mediating his voices, not letting them annoy him and corrupt his thoughts with their sometimes questionable suggestions. He watched as his boy collected seeds, changing course to collect skeleton bones. Before anyone knew it, tiny Tommy began obsessed with trying to use a creeper to get a disc.

Tubbo almost laughed as he watched his best friend scurry around, worry-free as he tried so hard to get a disc, determined to succeed. It was nearly sunrise when Tommy finally loosened his grip on his quest.

“I’ll read your “subs” in a minute, I need to try and kill a creeper with a skeleton. You know what? No. I’ve got my bones, that’s all I needed.”

The group was almost baffled with how tiny Tommy and his voices easily decided to drop the disc quest. Tommy’s precious discs were so close to never being discovered.

“Quick! Before you die!”

Tommy navigated through the plains, avoiding arrows and zombies as he did so. His bright blue eyes, shining with adventure and joy, widened the moment he saw the arrow kill the creeper. Cheering alongside his chat, he scurried over to put the disc, examining it. Quickly stuffing it in his inventory, he happily ran away from the mobs as he made his way back to his house, full of excitement.

“And so it begins, the beginning of the end.”

“The kid was excited to get his very own disc. I don’t understand how a kid enjoying something he worked hard to get led to all of this.”

“Because he decided that those stupid things are worth more than people! Do you know how many things we’ve lost because of them? How many canon lives were wasted because he can’t let go of them?”

“He’s a kid, Jack. He shouldn’t even have to make such a stupid decision at such an age! No one should make that decision, so stop putting this all on my son!”

Jack huffed as he crossed his arms, biting back a comeback at the sight of both Philza and Kristin’s expressions. Sharing a look with Niki, he shook his head as he turned to face the small child he despised.

Ponk smiled at the memory, amused to see the young Tommy he had met so long ago. He watched as the child grumbled to the regular chickens and his Chat, leading the regular chickens back into their pen. He remembered the simple times he had with Tommy when the boy first joined. He remembered the quarrels they had as they bordered each other. He also remembered the moments of peace the two had in their own little corner, how he’d sit against the base of his tree, listening to the discs that Tommy would put on from his side of the fence. He didn’t care much for kids, but Tommy was some form of a companion in their little corner. Letting out a snort, he shook his head as Tommy half-heartedly dissed him to his Chat, a passive-aggressive tone when Chat mentioned that they enjoyed Ponk’s voice. He didn’t even realize that missed the kid’s company until now.

“What is that growling?”

The group watched as Tommy dug into the hill, searching for the source of the undead groans. Amusement filled Sam as he watched Tommy shrugged it off, deciding to head back to his home. It wasn’t until the vast amount of clucking and moans that Tommy realized what he had come across.

“A spawner? Do you reckon?”

The boy dug into the cobblestone, excitement and pride filling him as he saw the zombie spawner. Running about in joy, he finally composed himself long enough to secure it. After he was done, he happily made his way to the chest.

“Oh, what’s in the chest? What’s in the chest-”

Tommy froze for a moment, but only a moment, before breaking out in cheers. Doing laps around the small room, he paid no mind to his cheering Chat. Laughing, he pulled out his latest find, a disc. Running his hands over its surface, he smiled as he recognized it in an instant.

“Cat! Oh, I definitely need that diamond now!”

“Where do you want to listen to the music? Here?”

Tubbo smiled as he watched his younger self walk around with Tommy, joyful. Both boys were content, not yet in the hands of unfit responsibilities. No trauma, no wars, no exile, just Tommy and Tubbo.

“I’ll make us some chairs, one sec.”

The group watched as the younger boy scurried to craft chairs, his best friend waiting as they spoke.

“Why are you following me?”

“I’m not following, I’m just watching. You’ve made us some chairs, this is nice.”

“Do you want our chairs next to each other or one block apart?”

“Uh-”

“I’ll just make us a bench.”

“Yeah, a bench.”

Tubbo and Tommy both sat down on either side of the bench, leaving room for each other to feel comfortable. Humming, Tommy set down the music box, opening up his inventory to grab a disc.

“You ready?”

“Yeah.”

“Alright, we’re gonna start with-”

“I like the sound of this one!”

Wilbur froze at the voice, eyes widening. He ignored Ghostbur’s squeals of joy, spewing ‘awws’ and ‘how adorable!’ every chance he got. Clenching his fists, he glared at his father and brother as they perked up, eager to see a memory not familiar to them.

“You like the sound of all of them, you cheeky little gremlin.”

“Wilby! Take that back! I’m a big man!”

Wilbur smiled as sat on the couch, peering over to watch as his six-year old brother watched the disc rotate. Tommy had always loved music, always eager to listen to Wilbur play his guitar. He used to watch Technoblade play his violin, that was, until Techno dropped the hobby. Humming along to the tune, he nodded to his older brother.

“Yeah, this one. Hey, Wilbah?”

“What’s up, Toms?”

“Is it okay if I learn how to play music?”

Philza perked up at this. Music? Did Tommy learn to play music?

Wilbur feigned being in deep thought, before smiling as he tickled the boy seated next to him. Tommy giggled and squealed as he squirmed out of his brother’s grasp. Smiling, Tommy playfully stuck his tongue out at his brother, making the older boy roll his eyes. Standing up from the couch, Wilbur stopped the disc and put it back in its sleeve, much to Tommy’s disappointment. Biting his lip, he made up his mind when he held the packaged disc to Tommy. Tommy gently accepted it, eyes sparkling as he followed his brother to the front of the music shop. He watched as Wilbur paid for the disc, thanking the employee before leading Tommy out. Tommy was practically radiating with joy at this point.

“Thank you! Thank you, thank you!”

“Yeah, yeah, it’s not a problem, Tommy.”

“Oh, I can’t wait until Dad and Techie come home tomorrow so that I can show them my new disc!”

Wilbur froze, furrowing his eyebrows as Tommy bumped into his legs. Sighing, he bent down to face his brother.

Quackity let out a nervous laugh as he pulled Karl and Sapnap close, enjoying being between the two.

“I know that look, it’s the bad news express.”

“Listen, Toms, I know you were looking forward to having those two spend the day with us tomorrow, but that’s not happening. I just got a letter from them that said that they’ll be gone longer this time.”

“Wha- but that’s not fair! It’s my birthday tomorrow! You only turn seven once, you know. They promised me!”

“I know, Tommy, I know. Oh, come here.”

Tommy bit back tears as he accepted his older brother’s embrace. Sniffing, wiped some tears away as he tried not to sob.

“They promised me, Wilbah.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Why? ‘S not your fault. I love you, Wilby”

“I love you more, Toms.”

Wilbur smiled as he ruffled his brother’s hair. Giving a small smile, he nodded as he motioned for him to follow.

“Come on, now. We still have your birthday party to look forward to! Besides, don’t you wanna show our new neighbors your disc?”

“Yeah! Tubbo’s gonna love it!”

Letting Wilbur carry him back to their little home on the outskirts of town, Tommy smiled as he traced his fingers along the pattern of the packaged disc. Nodding, he laid his head against his brother as he spoke up once more.

“Wilbah? What’s the name of this song?”

“Hm? Oh, that song is called-”

“-Cat.”

Silence filled the group as they turned to face the Minecraft family. Phil refused to face his sons or his wife, opting to stare at his hands. Techno kept his eyes closed, refusing to open them. Whether it was to put up a front or to be alone with his thoughts, no one knew. Wilbur and Ghostbur just stared ahead, the image of their younger brother being so small stuck in their heads. Kristin just wished that one of them would look at her. She opened her mouth to address her family, but she was beaten to it.

“You just...left them. Why?”

Phil pressed his lips together as he turned to make eye contact with Puffy, taking note of the anger in her eyes.

“I did what I thought was best at the time. It was for their own good.”

A scoff escaped from her throat as she shook her head. Puffy stood up, prepared to scold the man, only to be cut off by Tubbo.

“He waited every day for you two. He’d collect items and write down his fun moments so that he could share with you two. Tell me, Philza, Techno, when was the last time you spent a birthday with Tommy?”

They couldn’t answer him. They genuinely couldn’t remember, and that was something Tubbo already knew. They could only stay silent, could only think.

Tubbo smiled as he leaned back in his seat, humming as he watched the sky. Peering over at Tommy, he was pleased to see the relaxed and content expression that painted his friend’s face. Tommy hummed as he faced Tubbo, a genuine smile dancing on his lips. The volume of Chat themselves died down, mumbles and whispers exchanged as the voices enjoyed the tune. Turning back to face the sky, Tubbo nodded as he spoke up.

“This is nice.”

It was peaceful, beautiful even. Pure bliss and peace filled everyone as Tommy’s content feeling flooded into them, reminding them of their connection. This time was different, however. This time, they didn’t mind sharing such lovely feelings with the young boy. Everything was quiet and peaceful, and it was all thanks to the bond that was shared between two best friends. In that very moment, everything was perfect.

“All jokes aside, what actually is a fetish?”

#The Reluctant Hero's Tale #The Reluctant Hero's Tale AU #I'M BACK BITCHES WOOOOOO

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jay-and-dean · 4 years

Text

Firefly Chapter 7 : Eighteen and twenty-eight years old

By Roonyxx and Jay-and-dean

Pairings : future Dean x reader ?

Summary : 40 years in Hell, but he didn’t spend all this time all alone, he had her.

Prepare to know what happened during those years Dean never talks about. To immerge yourself in Hell, only lit by the mysterious kid growing here…

And to see some of your favorite villains again : Crowley, Lilith, Lucifer… And also Sammy and Jack…

Serie Warnings : Hurt!Dean, Hell (torture, even if we tried to not give it graphic descriptions, creepy demons, blood, violence), swearing, angst, future fluff and smut.

This story is in both Reader’s POV and Dean’s POV

Wordcount : 4330

Note : This is our second collaboration. We can’t both edit the same post, so we decided we would post 1 chapter/2 each, like we did for Same.

We both worked as much on this story and it’s the result of both our brains but also both our hearts.

Please, if you want to show love for this story, don’t forget we were together in this.

This story will be around 10 chapters and we intend to edit it every Saturday if nothing delays it.

Firefly Chapter 1

Firefly Chapter 2

Firefly Chapter 3

Firefly Chapter 4

Firefly Chapter 5

Firefly Chapter 6

Jay’s Masterlist

Roonyxx Masterlist

——————————————————————————

She wasn’t moving at all. Sitting on the bench in the middle of this ocean of life, she watched people walk by. The sun had gone down now, after moving from building to building, making giant shadows change the whole city constantly.

She was overwhelmed, unable to move at all. Her eyes were drinking the world like new born baby’s ones. None of her muscles moved for hours, her fists clinging at her dress, her heart bleeding in silence for Dean.

A few people stopped to ask her if she was okay, but she couldn’t answer, her voice locked in her lungs…

But she finally got up.

After days of hiding in alleys, and walking on boulevards, escaping weird men yelling at her in the dark of night… It started to rain. A heavy, pouring storm rain that made her dress heavy and washed the dust out of her. And that warm loud summer rain somehow woke her from her torpor.

She had to live, and learn everything about life because that’s what Dean wanted for her… But Dean wasn’t here, and he will never be. So she came back to that bench, soaked and shaking, and started to cry for him. She had to be happy for the man she loved, and couldn’t without him…

Her tears only calmed with the rain that day. And even when her eyes stopped crying, her heart never stopped weeping for Dean a single second.

Not when she got up from that bench to find a map of the city on the subway station, not when she found clothes, and ripped that stupid dress of her body… It was still weeping when she first found people in the street and asked her where to find food. It was screaming inside her during her first night in a foster home for homeless people… When she fought for the first time to escape men again.

Her heart was weeping for Dean the first time she laughed, seeing cartoons in a TV store front, when she found out about drugs and abuse, cheating, wealth... when she started to be hungry, when she fell of exhaustion in an alley…

And even if her eyes stayed dry, her soul kept crying when the demons attacked.

Lilith had sent them after her as soon as the Queen noticed Y/n was no longer in Hell. She was hiding in an abandoned building when dozens of demons attacked her, she fought with teeth and nails to get them off and she won, but that wasn’t the end… Lilith kept sending more minions and, exhausted but determined to live, Y/n had only one option left.

She faked her own death. With the help of her powers and some research in the nearby library and in the maze of knowledge she had memorized over the years, she tricked the demons into believing she was dead, and used a certain pattern of sigils to hide herself, cloaked from every supernatural being.

Finally she was free.

So things went easier. After a little while, she met her own little angel : Sue. An older lady who offered Y/n shelter when she caught her dumpster diving her diner. Sue found Y/n a little odd at first, everyone thought that of her, but just as with every person Y/n had met on her way, Sue liked the happy girl she always seemed to be, enthusiastic about the very simpler things ; so she offered Y/n a job as a waitress in her diner.

_____________

Y/n’s window was rolled down as the loud music blasted through the speakers of her raven black 1967 Ford Mustang as she drove to work, still the same job at Sue’s diner. And she was smiling wide on her way, because she loved every single thing about this job.

She parked her car in the lot and made her way inside to take her light blue apron.

“Morning Y/n! How are you doing today sweetie ?” Sue asked.

“You know, same old same old.” Y/N shrugged.

Tying her apron on her, Y/n smiled kindly. She looked so different from what Dean had known, and hopefully different enough so no demon passing by ever recognized her. Her hair was tied together and no longer falling on a waterfall in her back. No more fancy dresses but only jeans and all the t-shirts she liked, with rock bands on it, or her favorite movies posters...

Sue sighed and put her hand on Y/n’s shoulder.

“Are you still working on freeing Prince Charming ?” she asked Y/n with an apologetic smile.

“Yes, I promised I would get him out and I won’t stop until he is” she said determinedly.

When Sue had just found Y/n she kindly offered her to stay at her house until she could get on her own feet. Y/n dreamed a lot about Dean, some dreams worse than the others, so after the third night of her guest screaming Dean’s name, Sue had asked her who he was. Y/n couldn’t tell her everything so she said he was the love of her life and was wrongly imprisoned, and that she had promised to get him out.

“He’s a very lucky guy to have you, Y/n” Sue told her.

“Yeah, I just… I miss him so much…” Y/n said as she made the last knot on her apron.

“I know sweetie, but if you truly love him, he’ll come back, just wait and see” she smiled with that protective expression she always had when it came to her protégée, even if she seemed sometimes perplexed about all those stories she told.

She gave her her note book to write down the orders.

“Yeah I hope so” Y/n clicked on her pen and made her way into the diner to take up the orders of all the customers.

It was a quiet day, she loved this little diner, the food was amazing and it even had a little jukebox she often used. It had given her a shelter, money to live, but also an identity and friends. A life.

Her smile faded like it did sometimes, Dean would have loved this diner too… She thought back to all the things she discovered on Earth.

She did everything Dean had told her about : She went to the movie theater, she learned how to drive (thanks to Sue), she had a date or four, went to a party, she got drunk a few times. She danced alone and with others, kissed a girl and travelled a little. Her appetite for life was never ending, so she had driven to the ocean and dived, she had smoked weird things once and ran in the forest, she had woke in the middle of the night to go buy ice-cream, she had sang in the shower and stayed home for an entire weekend crying while watching bad tv shows… And she even lost her virginity to a sweet boy. But nothing could get her mind off Dean, calm her weeping heart or divert her from her goal.

Every night she looked up at the stars and imagined him by her side, she could use her power to create an image of him that existed out of a million little stars, well more like a million little fireflies.

A lot of time had passed since she last saw him, her heart broke at the thought of him down there for so long. He must have forgotten her by now, if his soul even survived those many years.

A throat being cleared pulled her from her daydreaming. She turned to find a man smiling at her.

“Oh my apologies, what can I get you, sir ?” she asked the man, there was something unpleasant about him, he had dirty blonde hair and she didn’t like the way his blue eyes were traveling her up and down.

“Are you on the menu ?” he asked her with a sly smile.

Y/n sighed deep, why were a lot of men on Earth such… pigs ?

“No sorry, I was just joking” the man began. “I’ll take a coffee with some pancakes.”

Y/n wrote his order down and left with a forced smile.

He was the only customer today so Y/n handed the paper to Sue so she could make it and sat down at the little bar. She was watching the man in the mirror that hung on the other side of the counter. She couldn’t shake the eerie feeling she got from the man, he looked normal, but she could feel something… something powerful radiating off him.

The bell pulled Y/n out of her haze as she took the coffee and pancake to the man.

“Here you go sir, enjoy your meal” Y/n said as she dropped the food at his table.

“Thank you.”

She was starting to leave when his voice stopped her.

“Can I ask you a question, miss ?” he asked as he took a bite from the pancake.

“Yeah, of course” Y/n shrugged.

“You haven’t been here for long have you ?” he said as he looked at her.

“Uhm no, not very long. Are you from around here ?” Y/n asked, he was just a normal guy, it was impossible for anyone to find her anyway.

“Oh no not at all. But i didn’t mean this diner...” he kept on eating nonchalantly, he swallowed. “I meant Earth.”

Y/n’s eyes went wide, she turned and ran towards the exit only to bump into the man who was just sitting at the table behind her half a second ago.

“Who are you” Y/n asked as she stepped back from him

A deep sigh left his mouth.

“It hurts me that you even have to ask that, Y/n” he blinked and his irises turned to a fiery red.

Y/n ran towards the kitchen to get Sue. She pulled open the door and shrieked as her dear friend fell on her with her eyes burned out.

Dead.

“No ! Sue !” Y/n started shaking, cupping her friend’s face. “WHAT DID YOU DO TO HER ?” Y/n screamed to the man walking in casually.

“She put too much milk in my coffee, so I ended her” he shrugged nonchalantly.

Y/n stood up, her eyes a flare as she widened her arms to unleash her powers. Two fiery tentacles wrapped around the man’s legs.

“You’ll regret this” she said, her voice sounding like a thousand people at once.

The man gave her a sly smirk and snapped his fingers, her powers stopped immediately. She thrusted her hands forward to him, but nothing happened. Fear shone in her eyes as she looked at him in disbelief.

“It’s time we should head home, Y/n” he stepped closer to her, his fingers tilting up her chin.

“We have a family to start” he whispered against her lips with a dark chuckle.

“L-Lucifer” she gasped.

His arms wrapped tight around her and before she could blink she was back in Hell.

The suffocating smell of sulfur and blood made her cough, her whole body started to shake as she started to desperately gasp for air, her lungs crushed by the most powerful anxiety she ever felt. Her arms reached to her enemy in a pleading scratch, like he was strangling her…

“Home sweet home, baby” he cruelly cooed in her ear, his breath heavy on her skin.

She pried her arms between them to push out of his embrace. He chuckled as he let her go and she fell backwards, scrambling away from him.

“Stay away from me!” she finally managed to yell at him, her eyes flaring back to life as she was losing control over her powers.

He tilted his head at her as he watched her, his steps following her every move.

“You are such a pretty thing, I see some potential too. But I was told you were,” he hummed in thought “a pain in the ass. And I’m starting to see why.”

Her eyes were scanning everything, the bloody walls, the frozen air all around her, the never ending screams, the smell of fear and fire.

No she couldn’t be back in Hell…

With a turn of his wrist she was lifted up in the air, she tried to fight his power, but he was too strong… She couldn’t take on the Lord of Hell…

“Y/n, I’m only going to tell you that only once : You will obey and be helpful” he said with every step until he stood nose to nose with her, his eyes drinking her in.

She gave him a sweet smile before she spat in his face.

“Never” she told him.

His hand came up to wipe her spit away, he licked his hand clean, humming at her taste.

“As you wish, Y/n. Then my little slave needs chains...” he sneered.

Iron ropes wrapped around her as soon as the word left his lips, they burned into her flesh making her scream in pain. She fell heavy to the ground at his feet.

“For eternity” he finished as he sat down on his throne.

“No p-please, no chains… everything but chains” she begged him.

“Oh no baby, I know what you used to do when you’re set loose, but forget about that, he isn’t here anyway, no reason to go wandering. Jeal told me all about you and your little lover.” he said as he crossed his legs over each other.

“H-he isn’t ? H-How” she asked, suddenly able to ignore the pain of the iron digging in her flesh.

How was that possible ?

“He got out, Heaven’s plans. Now stop asking or I’ll gag you too” he sighed, looking at her. “I’ll make you your own little cage, like they did for me. No way you’ll get away from this one. And don’t think your daddy will help, he still thinks you’re dead. Everyone does.”

She whimpered in silence, only one thought on her mind. He was free…

Dean Winchester was alive.

________________________

Dean’s Pov

Dean woke up in a little painful whine, he opened his eyes and wiped the sweat off his face and neck, watching the ceiling, trying to focus on the contour of his body, the sheets and the pillow. He took a deep breath to calm his heaving chest.

Another nightmare.

And this one wasn’t the violent surviving of Purgatory, it wasn’t the burning guilt of old fights with John, the crushing pain of seeing Sam die ; it wasn’t the despair of losing Mary again, the disturbing memories of being a demon… It was the worst : Hell.

And among the worst, the tortures and the screams, tonight’s nightmare had to be about the cruellest idea demons ever came up with : fake hope.

In his dream, he was laying on the floor of his cell, barely able to breath because of the blood drowning his lungs, and he felt her hand, her tiny soft fingers wrapped around his wrist to ease his panic. She whispered sweet things to him but when he lifted his eyes to see her face, only Alastair was there, laughing loud and sharpening knives.

Dean stretched and shook his head, like he could get rid of those memories like that. He couldn’t let nightmares get to him, and he couldn’t let his past crush him.

With his guts still aching from the dream, he forced himself to get up. Staying in bed only made the memories clearer, and the trauma cut deeper. He knew only another hunt could ease the pain.

Maybe, just maybe, if he saved enough people, he would finally expiate.

The bunker was silent, even Sam was still sleeping so early in the morning. Walking to the kitchen, he frowned : His knee was still hurting and the bruises on his face and collarbones too.

Damn demon.

He turned to enter the kitchen and jumped a little.

“Hi Dean, sorry I scared you” Jack said, looking up from his bowl of cereal, his big eyes going to the hunter’s wounds quickly. “How are you ?”

“I’m fine. What are you doing up so early ?” Dean grunted, going straight to the coffee in his long grey robe.

“I have trouble sleeping lately” the boy answered, frowning in confusion like he often did.

“Try whiskey” Dean muttered low in a sleepy grunt.

“Alcohol is really not a solution to my problem I think” Jack turned to him, even more confused.

“I was kidding” he sighed, sitting in front of the young boy.

Sometimes Jack really was Castiel’s son…

The hunter scratched his scruff and took the cereal to plunge his hand in the box, eating some while reading the joke behind it.

“I hear a voice in my head” Jack sighed.

Dean looked up, ready to make a mocking joke but he noticed a genuine worry on the boy’s face.

“A voice ?”

“Yes” Jack searched Dean’s face. “At first I thought maybe I overheard something on the angel radio, but… It seems different.”

“What does it say ?”

“I don’t really understand it” Jack shrugged.

“Understand what ?” Sam asked, scratching his head while entering the room with his hair in every direction and the left side of his face still swollen and bruised. “Wow, everyone is up early this morning ! What am I missing ?”

“Jack says he hears a voice” Dean repeated, getting up to get coffee now it was ready. “But he doesn’t know where it comes from or what it says” he groaned slightly.

Please don’t let that be bad news again…

Dean sat heavily, rubbing his tired eyes while his brother interrogated Jack. How long had he been hearing the voices, were there several, was it constant… The boy only had a very few answers.

“We need to find where it comes from, Dean” Sam states, making his brother grunt again in his coffee mug.

That didn’t sound like a good old fight and kill hunt, it sounded like trouble.

_____________________

Dean pushed the heavy metal door and went down the stairs, overhearing his brother, Jack and Castiel talking in the library.

Reaching them, he almost threw the bag on the wooden table, not daring to ask any question seeing the three too serious faces looking at him.

“I guess no good news” he mumbled deep in his throat looking down to grab a beer from the bag.

“Dean” Castiel started with his worried voice, making the hunter look instantly slightly annoyed. “The voice comes from Hell.”

“Hell” Dean repeated casually, taking a sip of beer to wash the word from his mouth. “There are a lot of voices in Hell, it’s pretty loud down there.”

When his eyes fell on Sam, a shiver roamed his back. He had the face, Dean hated that face, the “you’re not going to like it” face. So he put his beer down on the table and sighed.

“What is it ?” he finally asked.

“The voice, Dean” Jack said. “It’s calling you.”

“Me” Dean’s eyes widened. “There can be another dude named Dean in Hell !”

“Dean…” Sam sighed. “Who could be calling you ?”

Dean’s first thought went to Bobby. They had freed him from Hell a few years ago, he was supposed to be in Heaven, and Crowley had decided differently… Maybe someone they lost ? An innocent locked in Hell by mistake ? But Rowena was on the throne now… Would she do that ?

“How can you hear a voice coming from Hell ?” he shook his head. “Do you hear them all ?”

“No” Jack said. “Only this one.”

Dean sat and took a deep breath, realizing this would mean that he would have to visit Hell... again. After those break in, the nightmares were always worse, and last time he had to deal with a panic attack in the shower.

“Okay” he stated. “What is the plan ? And how do we know it’s not a trap ?”

_____________________

“So your plan…” Rowena frowned from her throne, her long dress nonchalantly falling on the floor. “Is letting the boy follow a voice like a dog on a leash ?”

Dean’s face was stern, his arms tense, his heart a little compressed in his chest.

Each time he smelled that horrible sulfur mixed with blood smell, it was like he could feel the chains and the needles and hear Alastair’s voice all over again. Then he had two choices in his mind : Either he accepted it, and stayed with the demon’s croaky voice in his head for days, or focused on what had made him hold on for years back then : the secret girl’s soft touches ; but then the fear was replaced by the crushing feeling of despair and sadness, at knowing he had been fooled that bad, into believing innocence exited.

“More or less” his brother answered. “Rowena, you have to admit it’s something new… And if there are leaks in Hell…”

“Yeah yeah…” the witch sighed. “But don’t come crying when your little baby angel comes back traumatized. This is not a place for kids.”

Oh the irony.

“It’s not there” Jack cut them with a frown, looking around.

“What do you mean it’s not there ?” Dean grunted. “You were sure it came from Hell !”

“It does…” the boy stated. “Just deeper.”

“Deeper ?” Sam shook his head, but turned to Rowena, immediately trusting Jack as always. “Is there a basement in Hell ?”

“A basement ? Hell is a multi-dimensional…”

“Answer him” Dean cut her, losing patience.

Rowena got up and demons entered the room. She gave orders about getting the records, about the cage, and all. After a few very long minutes, a demon in an old man vessel came closer to the Queen, whispering something in her ear.

“Oh really ?” Rowena said. “Why am I not aware of all this ?”

“Because they’re all empty, your Majesty” the demon shrugged.

“What is ?” Sam insisted with a flustered move of his hands.

Rowena sat again.

“There are cages, like the one that held Lucifer once. Smaller ones, but for all we know, they are all empty.”

“For all you know ?” Dean raised his voice a little.

“No one uses them” Rowena shrugged.

“They held an angel during the war between Heaven and Hell” the demon spoke, his voice shaking a little, obviously uneasy in front of the Winchesters. “I-in the dawn of time, but the angel was killed by Lucifer before Michael locked him in the cage… We kinda forgot where they were.”

“Take us to them” Jack ordered Rowena with this frown of his.

Rowena looked to the demon that didn’t move, his eyes on Dean, like the hunter could suddenly decide to kill all of them.

“Merihem, take us to those cages” Rowena called him. “Chop chop.”

____________________

The light of Hell’s fire didn’t reach that deep in the pit, like the sun in the deepest ocean.

Dean was holding the torch like it was his lifeline in this vertiginous nightmare of deafening silence. Everything was threateningly pitch black, a perfect representation of the fear of dark, a big cold lonely nothingness… With stairs in the middle.

“I didn’t know there was anything deeper than Lucifer’s cage” the Queen’s voice echoed weirdly in the void.

Suddenly, the stairs stopped and Dean banged into metal bars. He lifted his torch to see what was behind it, but the cage was empty.

“It’s here” Jack whispered. “I can feel it.”

Sam opened the empty cage, his arm hair ruffling at the touch of the same metal that held his soul for so long.

“Nothing” he said, holding back his own trauma probably as hard as Dean did.

“Dean…” a weak voice made them all jump, coming from the dark.

“Who is this ?” the hunter grunted, taking a few unsure steps to the next cage, firmly holding his torch in front of him with an almost trembling arm.

“Dean…” the voice now whined.

Sam put his hand on his brother’s shoulder to make him wait for him. They looked at each other, using silent words and joining their flames to fight the pitch black ahead of them.

Even used to all kinds of nightmares, Dean wasn’t so reassured in the deepest of Hell, called by a weak and plaintive voice coming from the darkest of darks.

Something moved in the cage in a deafening metal noise, a shadow fleeing the light. The brothers both let out a shaky breath, moving closer with the demon and Rowena way behind them.

Dean swallowed, finally distinguishing a body, hunched in the opposite corner of the cage, shaking. Extremely long hair was falling around the pitiful form, chained heavily even inside the cage.

“Who are you ?” he asked again. “You’re calling me, why ?”

No answer.

“Who is this ?” Sam turned to the demon that had guided them.

“I-I have no idea” it answered. “No one came here in years !”

“Dean ?” the voice seemed to struggle thinking straight.

“Jeez” Sam muttered. “For how long has she been there ?”

She ? Dean thought, realizing now it was indeed a woman, her thin delicate hands were clinging to the floor.

His heart was racing in his chest, from being in Hell, from the fear of what he would find, and from something else, something confusing, like an emotion flying in the air around him.

The girl finally lifted her face to them, teary eyes frowned at the light of the flame, her shaking hand open in front of her to soften the burning of the torch.

Dean felt hit violently in the chest, his breathing stopped in a strangled gasp as everything he certainly knew started to crumble in the back of his mind. He opened his mouth but nothing came out… After swallowing twice, he finally managed to speak.

“Firefly ?”

Next Chapter on @roonyxx‘s blog

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thecagedsong · 3 years

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Forgotten Light: Chapter 9: Leads

1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6 / 7 / 8 / 9 / 10 / 11

Chapter 9: Leads

“Caretaker, I present Ruta, Hollea, and Mizelle, Dryads of the South and East forests, to present their case to the caretaker,” Henrick bowed and the ladies stepped forward. Official business must be what let them walk on the road.

Agad whispered behind Seth, “Ask them the nature of their visit.”

“Ah, welcome,” Seth said, feeling a little silly, “Um, what is the nature of your visit?” His mouth quirked up at the pun. They all looked a little familiar, they must have crashed the Zzyzx opening and closing party.

“That information is private,” a blue haired one, Ruta, said. “It regards the recent adjustments of leadership and a possible danger to the fae of this preserve.”

Seth glanced at the sun, he’d guess it was a little past 10 AM, “Uh, how long is this going to take? Because if we could meet up tomorrow, that would work so much better for us.”

“I believe you will want to hear us now, Caretaker Sorenson,” the middle one said, standing a bit behind the other two. Pure black hair was tied up in a bun, rounded narrow black eyes demanded respect over high cheekbones. She was the only one armed.

“Alrighty then,” Seth said, turning to Agad, “Uh, where’s the best place to talk with…our friends?”

“Ladies, please follow me,” Agad said with a bow.

When the four of them were a little ways away, Seth stepped up to Henrick, “Hey, you missed some important stuff,” Seth whispered, “Grandma and Grandpa are in the winter study, they need your help and can catch you up. I’ll check on you guys after this, but you can go on without me.”

Henrick nodded, then reported at normal volume, “My rounds on the preserve show that everyone is restless. Far more restless than they usually are, so soon after the solstice when they tend to be tired. Repairs to the roads are happening on schedule, the Taurans have settled back into their domain, and many creatures are awaiting news of the next confrontation between you, your sister, and Celebrant.”

“I wouldn’t want to disappoint my adoring fans,” Seth joked, “I’ll make sure it’s a good one. I got to go.”

Agad had just turned a corner around the outer wall, and Seth ran to catch up. Sitting there was a room like the safe huts along the road. They weren’t restricted to mortals, however, and Mizelle was seated at a round table with seven chairs, while the other two waited outside.

Seth walked in, took a seat opposite the dryad and said, “Okay, what can I do for you?” he wished the other two dryads were here, Mizelle scared him a little.

From a pouch at her waist, Mizelle produced an hourglass, and turned it over. The number four was embossed in gold at the top. Mizelle glanced at him.

“Ah, nipsie. You are welcome at this table, if the caretaker gives you all his confidence,” Mizelle said graciously.

Once again, Seth had completely forgotten about his friend. A slight jerk in the corner of his eye where Agad was standing suggested that the wizard had too. Whoops, sorry about all those secrets.

Seth took Calvin from his pocket and placed him on table. He bowed, “My lady.”

Mizelle smiled, “Rise, small sword. Know that while the four of us talk, none can overhear us. This trinket thought up and enchanted by my sister Nika ensures that.”

“Marvelous,” Agad said, examining the item.

“Yes, but we are here for business,” Mizelle said, “Specifically, your sister, where she is, and what she is doing.”

“Do you know where she is?” Seth asked, “Ronodin and the Sphinx captured her after she lost her memory. We’re looking, but haven’t found anything yet.”

Mizelle slammed a hand on the table, “How could you let that happen!”

“Hey, Ronodin got the drop on Bracken,” Seth shot back, trying to cover up that she had made him jump, “I don’t see why Kendra is any more at fault than him.”

“Oh don’t worry, my brother won’t be spared my ire either. The fool just barely got out of captivity, and he so quickly jumps back in.” Mizelle spat. “When will that fool learn to keep his horns where he can see them!”

Seth pulled back, “Wait, brother?”

Agad blinked, “Excuse me for not recognizing you earlier. You are a unicorn?”

Mizelle nodded, “I am the eldest child of their royal majesties, and the leader of the warrior fairies of our realm.

“You’re… more intense, than I expected a unicorn to be,” Seth admitted. He’d met Bracken, the Fairy Queen, and the Fairy King, and he’d never seen a look as intense as the one that Mizelle was shooting him right now.

“Yes,” was all she said. “I take it Kendra did not explain the full nature of her abilities?”

“I am familiar with the abilities of Fairy Kind,” Agad said. “But I fear their nature is a closely held secret. I assumed it functioned similar to how fairies share their power with the fairy struck.”

Mizelle nodded, “Kendra had permission to inform her brother and grandparents. It appears she did not take it. Kenda is literally a receptacle for the Fairy Queen’s power in the mortal world. It is similar to the relationship between the Fairies and their fairy struck, but instead of a gift of shared magic, it is an open spring. She is a direct connection to Mother and the magic that fuels Fairy Realm, and therefore, is a direct weakness. This is the secret, and of the few people that understand this magic, Ronodin does.”

Seth paled, “Ronodin is hurting Kendra?”

Mizelle shook her head, “Worse. It appears he is taking advantage of her memory loss, and teaching her to poison her magic and my mother by proxy. He is leading Kendra quickly down the path he used so many years ago to corrupt his own horns.”

“Kendra would never do that.”

“That is obviously what my Mother thought,” Mizelle said drily, “With effort and training, Kendra is able to use the wellspring of fairy magic inside her and craft magic. Not as a wizard or a unicorn crafts, but as mortal does. Should she tend to a herb garden, those plants will take on magical properties. Should she weave thread with intent to protect, the cloth will become armor. When trained, her abilities are a fairy’s creation magic inspired by human emotions and ingenuity, a power Mother should not have released on the world so easily or in one so young, but here we are. Ronodin is teaching her to craft curses and items to harm and poison. It will pervert her magic, and the effects will reach straight into my mother’s heart.”

“Oh dear,” Agad said, head sinking into his hands. “I am getting too old for this. How is the Fairy Queen?”

“She is attentive and well-attuned to her magic. She noticed the change immediately, and analyzed it as much as she could before cutting her connection with Kendra completely. An unfortunate necessity, especially since my mother can’t undo the changes she wrought in Kendra and is merely cutting the girl loose, but it is the only solution that slows down the taint.” Mizelle said, “Kendra is much farther from aid than we feared.”

“What do you know about where she is?” Seth asked.

“Kendra was in the realm opposite my mother,” Mizelle explained, and held up a hand at Seth’s outraged look, “Not the demon prison. The realm of the Underking. Demons can survive surrounded by light, and as my father has shown, beings of light can survive surrounded by demons. The denizens of the Underking are fundamentally incompatible with my kind. Their darkness will extinguish our light, and our light will extinguish their darkness. Many fairies have died, trying to light up the darkness for even a moment. Mortals refer to the Underking’s domain as the Phantom Isle.”

“How does the Queen know that’s where Kendra is being kept? Does she know where the Phantom Isle is currently located?” Agad asked.

“It is part of the connection Mother shares with Kendra, is it unequal to even what she shares with her family.” Mizelle said, massaging her temples, “The magic flow remained strong, but that is the only place on earth where her senses are truly dulled. Ronodin is somehow protecting Kendra’s light from going out, but he is only preserving it in order to mutate it. If he corrupts Kendra to a level near his own corruption, the source that Kendra and Mothers draw from will become poisoned, and the realm of light falls.”

“Okay, Phantom Isle, how do we get there?” Seth asked.

Agad shook his head, “It moves around. It has connections to our world all over the place, but very few beings are able to utilize them. The Underking’s realm is the home of phantoms, zombies, liches, wraiths, and every other possible thing that made a deal to give up living for longer life.”

“Okay,” Seth said, “Not a popular vacation spot. Is it an actual island? Cause that explains the barrel underwater bit.”

They both nodded. Mizelle didn’t consider any information about barrels to be important, and didn’t ask.

“Do you know anything else about Kendra?” Seth asked.

Mizelle shook her head, “I can tell you that it will take time to turn her. Mother felt shadows passing over the soul, but that is the first step to a long descent that Ronodin has taken over the course of his life to replace all his light with darkness. However, Ronodin is cunning, he is skilled. It will be that much easier if Kendra has no memories of goodness. Unfortunately, Mother will not be able to continually check on her.

“Think of the source that Kendra and Mother draw from as a well with a pipe directly to the Fairy Queen. From the Fairy Queen, magic flows to all creatures of light. When making Kendra Fairy Kind, Mother expanded the width of the pipe, and created a secondary pull from the Source before the magic reaches her to reach Kendra instead. An offshoot pipe before my mother’s reservoir. Kendra’s poison is travelling back up the pipe towards the source, and to prevent immediate contamination, Mother had to build a wall separating the streams of magic. Because of her actions, it will take the corruption much longer to reach Mother. Kendra will have to poison the source first before it reaches the Fairy Kingdom.”

“That’s fascinating, is that really how fairy magic works?” Agad asked.

Mizelle shot him a deadpan, “No. It is incredibly more complicated. I am describing astrophysics to someone who hasn’t figured out how to make fire yet. But it is a sufficient metaphor for what you need to know.”

“Could you give us a timeframe?” Agad asked.

“That depends on Kendra’s resistance,” Mizelle said. “With the circumstances as they are…find her before the fall equinox. That is the soonest Kendra could reach that level of corruption. Find her as soon as you can, but that is your deadline. We are unable to help you more without declaring another war that we are sorely ill prepared to handle. As a mortal, Kendra does not belong there, but nor is she banned from it.”

“I’m going to get her back much sooner,” Seth swore, meeting the intimidating gaze full on.

Mizelle met his gaze, and when he didn’t waver, she gave him a small nod, “I don’t doubt your courage or will, and I pray for your success. Of all the beings to reach the heart of the Underking’s realm, a shadow charmer has a better chance than most. Not a good one, but you have proven yourself before.”

Mizelle stood up, “Hurry, but do not go unprepared. I will be busy managing the affairs of the Fairy Realm, let no one know of its weakness. You have been a good ally to us before, Seth Sorenson and Agad the Young. Unfortunately, we must rely on you once more.”

There was still a little bit of sand left in the hourglass, and Seth stood up too. “It’s my sister. I’ll dig a hole there myself if I have to.”

“Mortals,” Mizelle said, somewhere between scoffing and amusement, “I did not inherit Mother’s love of mortals, nor did any of my sisters. Only Bracken claims that. In addition to most of her looks, it’s why he is her favorite. I, personally, am still struggling to see the appeal.”

“Wait until we…er,” the sand in the hourglass ran out, “Wait until we manage your request, and you will see what mortals can do when people we care about are at stake. I think you’ll figure out why we’re pretty cool.”

“I await proof, Caretaker,” Mizelle said, offering a hand. Seth shook it. Agad stood up and shook her hand as well.

After seeing the envoy of “dryads” off, Seth didn’t move. He was hoping that any spy had left him for more fruitful pastures after seeing they couldn’t overhear what the dryads wanted.

“Send Marat to the stables,” Seth said, quietly, waving at the departing figures from the archway. “See which mounts are interested in another adventure. Then go to Grandma and Grandpa, if their plans look good, approve it.”

“Where will you be?”

“Shadow hunting. I’ll take a late lunch.”

He turned back towards the Keep, speaking at a normal volume, “Their issue wasn’t that big, right? Henrick can help them.”

“If you tell him to,” Agad agreed. “First we should weather tonight.”

Seth started walking towards the winter study, but sidetracked into a…music room? They had a music room? The map was going to be useful all on its own.

He turned off the lights, drew his sword, and started walking. He tried to turn off all the lights around him, but it was hard when only some of the rooms has electricity. Most were gas lamps, and for about the hundredth time he wished he was a fully trained shadow charmer. According to the Sphinx, a shadow charmer can dim flames, bring cold, and a bunch of other cool stuff that would be really useful for figuring out if there was a spy in the Keep.

He decided to start at the top and make his way down, following Tess’s group wasn’t going to be any good if the spy was doing that already.

Luckily, the Keep was meant to be a fortress, and there no windows on the ground floor. When he approached the winter study, he listened carefully, looking for another spy, but didn’t find anything. Agad was talking about the best way to inform the staff, so Seth moved on.

Seth made his way to the dungeons next, checking various rooms as he followed the strained whispers of the undead. Unable to see in the dark, he stuck close to the walls. He approached the room with the barrel in it, hidden amongst the empty cells. One of the minotaur’s, not Brunwin, was guarding it along with a dwarf.

Seth imagined himself as part of the darkness, and tested how close he could get.

Seth could have stabbed the Minotaur through the chest. He was within the torchlight hanging near the entrance, but with the sword helping him, still the guards hadn’t noticed. Then Seth was actually standing behind the minotaur, reaching for the gate, when the dwarf saw him, cursing in dwarvish, as he pulled his shortsword free.

The Minotaur spun around, and Seth held up his hands without letting go of his sword, “Don’t attack! It’s only me,” Seth said. “Sorry, I was just trying to see how far my shadewalking and this sword could get me without being noticed.

The Minotaur lowered his axe, shaking his head, “I didn’t see you at all. I didn’t smell or hear you either.”

“And you can do all that now?” Seth asked.

They both nodded.

“Okay, good to know,” Seth said, “I’m going to go in the cell, check up on the barrel. Is there anyone in there right now?”

“Agatha,” the dwarf said, “She’s keeping watch over your note.” The dwarf handed him the key.

“We got a believable threat to Blackwell that’s supposed to come tonight,” Seth said, “My grandparents will fill you in soon, but be as vigilant as you can. Okay?”

They both nodded and Seth walked in. Agatha was apparently one of the old women, she was knitting an enormous sock, and smiled pleasantly when she saw him.

“Ahh, Young Master. The letter remains untouched and unmoved,” she said.

“Err, awesome. Good job,” Seth said. He felt a little uncomfortable having the old woman be the last or first line of defense should something happen with the barrel, but something about the click of her needles made him think she wasn’t as harmless as she appeared. There was no one else hiding in the cell with her, so he walked back out and continued towards the Blackwell.

As he wound closer to the Blackwell, he heard Doren, “Look, it’s really not necessary to go closer. Seth even told us not to touch this place.”

“He isn’t the boss of me,” Knox said, a slight tremor in his voice. He wondered how bad it was this close to the Blackwell for people without magical fear immunity, “We should look in, figure out the shape for the map, then we can go.”

“I don’t want to go any closer,” Tess said, almost crying.

“You don’t have to,” Knox said, sounding braver. “I’ll just crack open the door.”

Seth waited, pulling himself into a little nook around the corner of the prison door. It was round indent, about three feet deep, and he pressed himself to the wall, focusing on listening.

“Well, it won’t open. And if it’s locked for us, its probably locked for everyone one else. Move along now, we still need to get through the first floor before lunch. I for one, don’t plan on missing a meal because we stared at a door too long,” Newel said, “Off we go.”

Seth watched, holding his sword ready. Any tails the group had would have to back track, if Seth remembered right. He kept his eyes peeled for movement, ears alert for the sound of shoes separate from the others. Surprisingly, the ghostly wailing wasn’t overwhelming like he remembered the first time. Seth could firmly place it within his head, and it quieted while he focused on his non-shadow hearing.

His friends passed without a sound. Newel was holding the torch, the rest their papers and clipboards.

Seth waited for Tess to point to him and ask to talk, but her eyes slid right past his hiding spot. He felt the light touch him, but a single torch wasn’t enough to take away his advantage in this area. That meant that while she could see through distractor spells, shadow magic eluded her. It all depended on what the spy was using.

The group continued forward, and Seth waited.

And waited.

He made himself wait longer, just because time flew when you were waiting for something to happen. A trained spy would know that, even though the group was out of earshot.

Nothing happened.

It didn’t make sense. If the spy was tailing this group, which he thought any reasonable spy would be, he or Tess should have seen the person. This was a dead end! The spy wasn’t tailing his grandparents, he didn’t think. Any plan of the Sphinx’s and Ronodin’s wouldn’t be thwarted by increased security. Did the person stick to Agad, knowing the old wizard was the most powerful of their group? That didn’t seem right either, Agad had been as clueless as the rest of them in the meeting, and Seth had put him on magic defenses, which were already confirmed to be holding strong. Tailing Seth? The Dryads and Mizelle’s item would have found the spy if they were using distractor spells, and Seth would have found them using shadow disguise magic.

Sending two children and the satyrs through the nooks of the lower levels clearly presented the most unassuming group, and therefore the most suspicious. Considering they hadn’t even considered a spy until mid-morning, the spy wouldn’t have assumed Seth to be a good enough strategist to do what he did. Seth hadn’t been banking on the spy following this group, but even if the spy wasn’t listening in on the War Room meeting, the four of them tromping through the underground should have caught the spy’s attention.

Seth was looking at this wrong. Or maybe it was crazy, thinking there was a spy already here. Maybe the spy had known about the dead end and hadn’t bothered to follow them towards the Blackwell already, and instead stopped before —

Seth froze, then immediately forced himself to relax. He stood up straight, as though getting ready to leave and stepped from the nook.

Seth spun with all his strength, sword extended. Steel sparked against stone wall. A dark figure crouched, sparks landing on their hat. Seth had put too much force into the swing, and had trouble pulling back. The figure used that millisecond to run. An arm shot out, shoving him.

“Hey!” Seth yelled, scrambling to his feet. “Intruder!”

Seth ran, eyes darting everywhere, looking for the figure, catching the barest flicker of movement turning corners. He hit the main hallway, and there was nothing. No doors swinging, no locks rattling, no flickers of coat. Seth hurried forward and reached the cell with the barrel, and found the minotaur and the dwarf, braced and ready for action.

“Did you see anyone?” Seth asked as he rushed closer.

They jumped, only spotting him as he spoke.

“Right, new plan,” Seth said, putting a hand on his head, trying to think through this.

He was planning on taking the barrel with him out of Wyrmroost in the late afternoon. It had seemed so much more likely that they were going to attack at night. Now that the spy had been spotted, would their enemies try to move up the plan? What did Seth want the spy to think? If Seth did nothing, the spy would know that something was going to happen.

If Seth saw the intruder, and Tess didn’t, that meant shadow magic. Being unable to see in the dark meant that even if he could see past the shadow magic, he wouldn’t be able to find the intruder easily. That was a dumb trait. There had to be some aspect of being a shadow charmer that let him sense others in the dark.

But it was reality, and it meant that keeping their biggest weakness at the bottom of the dungeon, near the Blackwell, was a mistake.

“Okay, uh, remind me of your names?” Seth asked apologetically.

“Borum,” the dwarf said.

“Romnus,” grunted the minotaur.

“Right, Borum, you’re on guard duty with me. We’re moving the barrel, Romnus is going to carry it. I know this is one of the most protected areas, but we’re dealing with someone even better at shadow stuff than me. This is going too the High Judgement Court,” Seth said.

“Where?” Borum asked.

Seth opened the door to the cell, “Oh, uh, the center thing at the top. It doesn’t have any walls?”

“He means the pavilion,” Romnus said. Seth put his back to the cell door as Romnus explained the situation to Agatha.

“You lead, I’ll bring up the rear,” Seth said. Borum nodded, and they made their way out of the dungeons. Seth’s eyes were starting to hurt from spending so long trying to decipher the darkness, but he didn’t stop looking until they made it all the way to the top.

They attracted a trail of people, running into Tess’s group on the first floor, then Marat and Agad as they made their way to the kitchens.

They all asked Romnus, Agatha, and Borum questions, but they were directed to Seth who shook his head, motioning for everyone to follow quietly.

With everyone gathered at the pavilion, the harsh sunlight let Seth finally lower his sword. He sheathed it and looked in the barrel. The note remained, having shifted only a little bit during the trip.

“Okay,” Seth said, “I found the spy. Didn’t get a good look at them, but they are definitely using concealment shadow magic to hide themselves. Something I can sort of see through anyway. Which means its definitely going to be weaker up here.”

“Until nightfall,” Romnus said. “New moon tonight.”

Seth nodded, “Yes. This will still need to be guarded, but I already feel a lot better with it away from the Blackwell. Any conversations you have from now on, we should probably assume we’re being spied on. With the barrel up here, assuming they still go forward with their plan, the spy will have to wait until nightfall. If their plans involved the Blackwell, they’re going to have a lot farther to go, giving us a chance to stop them.”

“Is there anything else we can do? Tess didn’t find anyone,” Knox said.

“Oi, Tess was looking for people?” Doren said, “I thought we were making a map!”

“I thought the point was to get the spy to follow us,” Newel said.

Doren looked betrayed, “You knew it wasn’t about my map making skills!”

“Guys, it was all those things,” Seth said. He crouched and put a hand on Tess’s shoulder, who looked scared, “Hey, you did great. I never would have found the spy without you.”

He waited until she nodded and gave him a smile.

Seth stood up, “I want your map in the War room, because there’s always the chance that we missed a weakness down there. Agad, I want you to go over it with Marat after lunch, see if everything looks like you remember. I’m pretty sure the spy was following you guys the whole time, which means the rest of our conversations were probably private. Let’s head down to lunch, see if we can think of anything else. I’m starving.”

The Satrys whooped and hurried down, Tess and Knox following after.

“I have been giving some thought to where you need to go,” Agad said. “And I am starting to believe it was a mistake to think you didn’t need to be trained in your Shadow Charmer abilities. A fully trained shadow charmer would have been able to sense the shadow and concealment magic, and would be able to sense it now.”

“I’ve had plenty of people offer,” Seth admitted, “No one I felt like I could trust. Kendra told me that a demon she knew vouched for other demons that hate the dragons a lot more than they hated humans, but I already forgot their names. She didn’t want me learning from demons anyway.”

“But still she told you,” Agad said gently, “She would have let the information die with her memory if she didn’t trust your judgement. Demons are different among the denizens of the magical world, they are not always bound to their word as Fairies and Underbeings are. In order to deal with demons successfully, you must always have your goals aligned. Is there anywhere she would have written it down?”

“The journal of secrets,” Seth admitted, “But she writes that by umite candle and in fairy languages.”

Agad hummed, “There is a surprising store of Umite candles in the stockroom, and I believe that with Tess, fairy languages aren’t the bar Kendra trusted them to be.”

Seth grinned, changing direction at a hallway, “It looks like Tess has some homework. Do you think being a Shadow Charmer would help me rescue Kendra?”

“Having your abilities fully trained would indeed let you walk among the denizens of the Phantom Isle. From what I understand, you could no more walk on the Phantom Isle unseen than you could walk in the Fairy Realm without the Queen’s knowledge.” Agad said, “But if there is a way to take back what belongs in the light, a trained shadow charmer has a much better chance than many others.”

Agad stopped Agatha, who they had caught up to in the halls, and requested a set of Umite candles be brought to the kitchen. She nodded, and went to do it.

“The staff has been put on alert, watch and rotations set, for your information,” Agad said.

“Great,” Seth replied opening the door to his sister’s room. He immediately went to the desk in the corner and looked at the underside. It was much lower to the ground, and the journal wasn’t there. He checked Kendra’s other hiding spots, and in her desk for good measure. Agad watched.

“I have the feeling this isn’t your first time snooping on your sister,” Agad said.

Seth pulled the Journal of Secrets from the inside pocket of her duffle bag, which had been folded to fit inside the bottom of her laundry basket.

“Sisters, you know?” he said, grinning and tucking the book under his arm. “I wonder if Patton finished writing in it before or after the stingbulb was made? The first half is his journal, the rest of it is Kendra’s.”

Patton. The stingbulb had only a day left, how could they make sure Patton was used to the fullest extent?

Seth once again changed course.

“The kitchen is this way,” Agad said, amused, “It seems you really do need a map.”

“We want to go somewhere no has ever been, that constantly moves locations, and survive to tell about it?” Seth asked, smiling again, “Ten bucks says Patton knows where he left the t-shirt.”

Patton’s eyes lit up, but the rest of his features had only a hint of amusement, “Seth, I hope you aren’t suggesting that you think I rang the Underking’s doorbell for the fun of it? There isn’t a fairy shrine there.”

“Patton,” Seth said, cracking his own smile, “I’m obligated to let you know that if you haven’t ding-dong-ditched the Underking, it’s going to be a crushing letdown for one of your biggest fans.”

Patton laughed, “I had a good reason, I swear. But the particulars of it elude me. Stingbulbs don’t retain a perfect memory, you know. There is a ship, mildly haunted, that a shadow charmer should be able to strong arm into giving a lift.”

“Lady Luck?” Seth asked.

Patton raised his eyebrows, “You’re familiar with it?”

Seth winced, “Yeah, you left some stuff for me with Cormic, and we used her to get to the Shoreless Isle to stop Zzyxx. I think the bell and whistle ended up at Fablehaven, but I left the music box in the Presence’s cabin. I didn’t think I’d survive, much less need it again.”

“You’ll get a lot farther if you assume you will survive,” Patton said, stroking his mustache, “And if you don’t, you leave some nice pieces for the next adventurer to pick up. It is possible the music box remains in the cabin, but if not, a Shadow Charmer can summon the presence of spirits, I hear.”

Something else he’d need to be trained on. He caught Agad’s eye, and nodded. Training him had to be part of their plan before they went to the Phantom Isle.

“Can you think of another way?” Seth asked.

Patton shrugged, “The old stories suggest sailing to the end of the world and falling off it, but that has obvious issues. There are many caves that lead to the Underking’s domain, but those are also constantly shifting and extremely well hidden.

“The Underking has a clever boat he uses to ferry his servants across the water, but I don’t know of any others like it. There are also certain fairies that strive to find their way to the Phantom Isle, they were born with a need to light up the deepest darkness. Called Nova Songs, they are exceptionally rare, but they could lead a normal ship to your destination.”

“Right,” Seth said, “Could you write those down?”

“Of course, my boy,” Patton said, accepting a piece of paper from Tanu. He started writing. “I’m glad I could help this much. I get the sense Patton was hoping I’d be able to be more of an assistance than what I have been. Aside from getting the winged mounts, I fear I haven’t lived up to Patton’s hopes.”

“Those mounts are more important than you think,” Seth said, thinking of their plan for escape. Was there anything Patton could do in the next half a day? Probably not with Kendra, that was clearly going to take longer.

“Actually,” Agad said, “There is something you can do. I refrained from asking about your journey here before, but is it true you hid one of the keys to the vault in the Dragon Temple?”

“I suppose I can’t make myself any less popular with the dragons than I am right now,” Patton said, handing Seth the note detailing his ideas, “I did indeed. I had a couple of important items that let me get past the guardians, a lot of time, and an urgent need.”

“You used the Unicorn horn to get past Stilletta, didn’t you?” Seth said.

Patton arched an eyebrow, “As did you, I assume.”

“We killed her,” Seth replied, “The unicorn horn fed by Kendra’s unending power helped us purify her to a crisp. By the time she figured out to use her claws, she was dead.”

Patton grinned, “Quite clever. Though taking a dragon’s life shouldn’t be done lightly, Stiletta was a piece of work. I procured myself a set of Pegasus boots. Allows for increased speed while hovering three inches above the ground. That, along with a scarf that turned the wearer invisible while moving, allowed me to make it into the Temple and out again.”

“How would you like to revisit it?” Agad asked. “The dragons have declared war, voiding the treaty that gave them the right to certain treasures. We will be needing them back. Any information on the status of the temple guardians would be most welcome.”

“I believe I can do that,” Patton said, “How will I be able to convey the information back to you? I will likely expire before I can make the return trip.”

“I believe I have something that will do the trick,” Agad said, “Follow me to the library. Seth, I believe your stomach is still growling, why don’t you take your sister’s journal to Tess, see if you can scrounge up any secrets that might have been lost with Kendra’s memory.”

“Hey Tanu? When can you be all packed up?” Seth asked.

Tanu nodded, mixing two vials. “Patton’s help was greatly appreciated. I will be ready to go by 4 this afternoon.”

Marat came up to him as he approached the kitchen, but thankfully didn’t try to pull him in a different direction. He really was starving.

“The flying mounts have agreed. The destination?”

“Err, Fablehaven, I guess,” Seth said, looking around. “Think they can go that far?”

“It is approximately 1600 miles,” Marat said, “It would take a dragon three days, two days without rest. I do not know how fast your mounts fly, but I would plan for a week.”

“A week? I don’t have that much time to spend roadtripping,” Seth said, “After we get to human towns, think we could buy plane tickets to Fablehaven? They’re Luvians, they should be able to make it to Fablehaven without riders.”

“I will consult with them, though that plan has merit,” Marat said. They made it into the kitchen and Seth finally got a lunch of barbeque and some kind of mashed potato thing.

Seth dived in.

“When do you intend to implement the second part of your plan?”

“You’ve been up to something else?” Grandpa asked, sitting down with his own plate beside him.

Seth swallowed and grinned, “Always,” he said. To Marat he said, “It’s what, 1 o’clock? Let’s save it for 4:30-ish, have everyone gather at the High Judgement Pavilion. That’s when Tanu will be ready to go.”

“It’s only because I heard about your encounter with our spy that I’m letting you get away with your secrets Seth Sorenson,” Grandpa warned. “We will be discussing this.”

“I appreciate your input as my assistant,” Seth said, nodding.

“Mind your grandfather,” Grandma said.

“Yes Grandma.”

#Forgotten Light #fablehaven #dragonwatch #Seth Sorenson

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angelicamerlinbarnes · 3 years

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TUA HUNGER GAMES AU:

(please understand that by AU, I mean they share an incredibly small amount of things in common with the original source material which I barely remember BUT the “story” takes place in the setting of the books/films) (not to be misleading or anything :p)

(BEWARE: abuse, murder, human experimentation, etc.)

(If you can handle watching Umbrella Academy AND The Hunger Games, this will be fine for you.)

(Katniss) Allison doesn’t want to be here, but she wasn’t just gonna let Ray be taken from her by a stupid punishment meant for her great-grandparents. She resolves to win the Games for Ray, so she can make it back to him and they can start their lives together in a better place. But when she wins, her life is changed in ways she never could’ve anticipated.

(Peeta) Luther won a few years ago. He’s Allison’s age, but lives up in Victor’s Village, hiding from the rest of the District. She’s the only one who’s seen him in years, as she brings him food and supplies from town as one of her jobs. She’s fallen in love with him, and he with her, and when she goes to the Games, Luther begins to work with Ray to find and aid the rebellion, hoping to bring her home alive.

(Gale) Ray has understood the tragedy of the Games far better than most others since he was very little. He was chosen when he was twelve, but his sister volunteered for him and died in the last rounds of the Games. He’s been dreaming of running away ever since, writing his pamphlets and letters in hopes of stirring up a revolution, and when Luther approaches him for help, he thinks it might just finally work. He just hopes he doesn’t lose Allison, who he’s been planning on marrying since the day he met her, now that she’s volunteered for him too. Too many people love him, he thinks, and too much.

(Rue) Claire is a young girl Allison makes friends with during her Games, taking on a motherly role to her. Claire is struck down by another tribute, Patrick, and Allison killed him, but not before Claire is already too far gone. Allison holds her as she dies and joins the revolution, eventually, in her name.

(Prim) Vanya fell in love with Sissy a long time ago. Her husband died in the coal mines, and Vanya has been a nanny and second mother to her adopted son Harlan ever since. When Harlan is chosen, Vanya volunteers in his place, knowing she’ll die. Imagine her surprise when Allison saves her with a scheme about sisterly love.

(Johanna) Lila was one of the younger victors, known for seeming meek and eventually murdering over half her fellow tributes to win. She went mad with grief and rage after the Games, and only Diego, her beloved brother who she volunteered for, could calm her. Eudora is her lover, though they keep it exceptionally quiet, and she’s incredibly close with Five, though they’ll never be self-sacrificial for one another, as it breaks their agreement to respect each other as warriors. Lila’s ready to murder Reginald for what he did to her family - but first she wants to murder the Handler, who’s kept her on a leash for years by threatening Diego’s life.

(Finnick) Eudora is a victor, and the capital’s darling. She’s quite daring and charming, and seeks to help and mentor every tribute she can, not just those from her District. She, Diego, and Lila, a victor she mentored and later her lover, were childhood friends and were all possible contenders for the Games, though Diego never participated despite being Reaped twice because both Eudora and Lila volunteered for him. She considers Diego a brother, and ensures he is safe when his rebellion threatens his life. She is the hero of the revolution, and eventually takes over as President of Umbrellacademy (Panem) after the war is won.

(Snow) Reginald is the President of Umbrellacademy, and is hated by every District. Five has tried multiple times to kill him, but Reginald has escaped his murderous clutches every time. With each attempt, Reginald has locked Five away in a pitch-black room deep beneath the ground for days or weeks on end with only food and water as signs of life. Because of this, Five is distrusting and angry and doesn’t show loyalty to those if he can help it, yet is terrified of being alone. (Five is, however, the one who executes Reginald in the end. Because he goddamn deserves to.)

(Coin / Dr. Gaul) The Handler runs the Commission (District 13), a former District bombed into nothing in the first war. Five became her ally when he won, but soon realized she held nothing but contempt for the people of the Districts just like Reginald, and escaped from her. She keeps a tight grasp on Lila, who she knows was Five’s ally and friend, and works even harder towards her goal of taking over Umbrellacademy and ruling the lands for herself. In the end, Lila kills her when she gives her an ultimatum: choose unfathomable power and riches and kill Five, or choose Five and die by his side. Lila gives her a sad look and plunges her sword into the Handler’s heart wordlessly, gathering Five to her chest.

(Haymitch) Five has been bitter and angry since his victory, which occurred in the first quarter quell. His District chose him overwhelmingly, voting for him to be in the Games because he offered to give up his life for their children by being the tribute, knowing he could win. The trouble came when his fellow tribute Dolores, an unwanted, became his ally and friend, eventually sacrificing herself for him. One of her snakes bit him and the venom made him ageless, so he’s looked thirteen for forty-five years. He helps run the resistance, eventually leading it as the war worsens and they lose more and more people. Because of Dolores, he does not allow anyone to get too close to him, but is kind and loyal to anyone he does choose to hold his favor - Lila, Diego, Klaus, Allison, Luther, Vanya, and Ben. Though he’s gone mad from his traumatic experiences and time alone, he’s still one of Umbrellacademy’s most treasured citizens, and lives celebrated as a war hero by every survivor comes the war’s end.

(Effie) Klaus travelled to the Capitol when he was seventeen after his lover Dave volunteered for him in District 12. Horrified, Klaus followed him as a stowaway on the train, earning Five’s respect and protection. When Dave died, Klaus was devastated, and turned to drinking and partying to drown his woes. He works for the resistance with Five, but keeps his persona so bubbly and aloof nobody would ever suspect him of being even nearly as smart as he is. He’s found ways to manipulate the Capitol’s scientific brilliance for his own tributes’ advantage, once he won his right to be an escort for his District following Dave’s death. He used this knowledge to save one of his tributes, Ben, whom he formed so strong an attachment to they became near-lovers, partners in all but the physical. Klaus faked his death during training and preserved his spirit in the body of a mockingjay, who he keeps as a pet. He is dangerous, but vulnerable - for all his brilliance, Klaus is prone to emotional attachments, and finds himself making careless mistakes when the lives of his loved ones are threatened.

(Cinna) Diego is the fashion designer for District 12, having come to the Capitol with his sister Eudora after she won her Games. They’re both from District 4, but he instead chooses to work for 12, entranced by the District’s escort Klaus from their first meeting. The two fall deeply in love, but only acknowledge it in coded conversations and never touch if they can help it, knowing that to take any risk in revealing their feelings for each other would result in one or both of them being killed by the Capitol as an example. Diego has another sister in Lila, who volunteered for him when he was Reaped a second time, and protects both of them with his life. He is close to Five, who he works with closely when training tributes, and immediately recognizes Allison as the face of their rebellion, risking his life for her in the hopes that she will lead them to a better world where he can finally hold Klaus in his arms.

(Cato) Leonard is a tribute in Allison’s Games. He tries to kill Vanya, which prompts Allison to kill him towards the end of the Games. Though he had very little chance originally due to being from the incredibly poor District 8, he grew in danger with every tribute dead, and was well-known for his manipulative charm that won him many sponsors. Allison’s hatred of him does not stop him from showing himself as a prominent victim in her many traumatic dreams.

Hazel and Cha-Cha are peacekeepers, both of whom have wavering loyalties to the Capitol. Hazel is on the fence because he fell in love with a District 12 marketplace vendor, Agnes, and Cha-Cha has been in touch with the Commission for years, hoping to bring the rebellion to the forefront and finally make a safe home with Hazel that isn’t so structured and merciless. This is made difficult by the fact that the Handler has complete control over them, threatening Agnes’ life if they don’t cooperate, and they’ll both do anything to save her - Hazel because he loves her, and Cha-Cha because she loves Hazel.

Agnes is a woman from District 12 who sells tributes lucky charms. She gave Allison her wolf, and Five his snake, and Klaus his mockingjay, and continues to help her people in whatever way she can, offering them bread and treats in secret whenever she manages to scrounge some from Hazel and Cha-Cha. She’s a prominent figure in the black market, but dies when District 12 is bombed, prompting Hazel and Cha-Cha to begin infiltrating the Peacekeepers from the inside despite the overwhelming risks.

(Lucy Gray) Dolores was Five’s ally and friend in his Games, one who shared his emblem of snakes. She learned to control them and change their venom��s property with herbs, granting Five agelessness when she had one bite him just before dying in his arms, having sacrificed herself so he could win. Her death cemented Five’s hatred of the Games and Capitol and his belief of attachments as weaknesses, and he often hallucinates her and speaks with her phantom when he’s locked away from the world, leading her to be known as a sore subject with Five and his greatest weakness. (That is, until his new family comes along and gives him something to fight for.)

(Mockingjay) Ben was a tribute in one of Klaus’ first Games as an escort, and he fell in deep platonic love with him. The two remained bonded throughout the years, as Klaus saved Ben by faking his death and keeping him in the body of a mockingjay until their victory in the second war, and Ben stayed by Klaus’ side for all that time as his beloved pet. Klaus would receive the names of marks from Five and give Ben poison to kill them with, having found a way to alter the venom in Ben’s talons from records of Dolores and Five’s Games, and a couple of vague and shallow conversations between himself and the latter. When Ben returns to his human form, Klaus tugs him into his arms and thanks him for all he’s done, never leaving his side again.

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entertainment · 5 years

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Entertainment Spotlight: Beth Dover, Orange Is the New Black

Actress Beth Dover has been extremely busy for the past few years. You probably recognize her as Linda Ferguson from Orange Is the New Black, but she has dozens of acting credits to her name; Wet Hot American Summer: Ten Years Later, The Oath, Brooklyn Nine-Nine, and New Girl, just to name a few. Her most recent means to make you laugh? Medical Police, a spin-off of the Adult Swim comedy series, Childrens Hospital, where she will reprise her role as Nurse Beth.

We got the chance to ask her about acting, her experience on OITNB, and what’s on her phone. Enjoy!

Do you have a favorite character arc or storyline from OITNB?

Taystee, hands down. Danielle Brooks is an absolutely phenomenal actor and she brings an intensely sad and upsetting storyline to life with such beauty and grace. To see how unfair Taystee’s life has been and to see her struggle with her own reality of life in the prison system for something she didn’t do, yet still try to bring light to others, made me cry uncontrollably while watching it…and I had read all the scripts!

What’s the most memorable thing that’s ever happened to you on set?

Well, I was pregnant and trying to keep it from everyone in season 4, so I remember asking to add blazers to a lot of my outfits.

If you could be in another movie or show with your OITNB castmates in the future, what genre would it be and what kind of roles would everyone play?

Well, Emily Tarver (who plays C.O. McCullough on the show) and I are writing a horror/comedy together. So, I would have to say that would be the genre. There will be a lot of screaming and running through the woods moments for everyone, for sure.

What’s the funniest photo that you have on your phone right now?

Emily Tarver put my head on a stick so I could be there for the cast photo. Now that’s true friendship right there.

What kinds of scripts and characters are you drawn to?

I’m drawn to all kinds of characters. That’s what makes being an actor so much fun. You get to play pretend and live in someone else’s shoes for a while. Best job in the world.

If you could spend a day in the world of any book, movie, or show, what would you pick?

The world has been super scary lately, so I think getting to be in a Nora Ephron rom-com from the ’80s or ’90s would feel nice. I’m going to go with When Harry Met Sally, because it’s my favorite rom-com and I would get to hang out with Carrie Fisher.

How does your background in improv comedy impact the way you approach a role?

It allows me to stay loose and be in the moment, even within the parameters of a script. Improv has been the best acting class for me in so many ways. Improv gave me permission to use the aspects of me that make me interesting and put it into a role. Also just being present with your scene partner and “yes and-ing” their energy is invaluable. That sounds like dorky improv speak, but it’s true!

If you had a catchphrase, what would it be?

“Don’t be a dick.” I actually have this phrase printed on a reusable grocery bag. I’m probably scaring my cashier every time I shop.

How would you describe OITNB to a five-year-old?

A nice lady goes to jail for something bad she did a really long time ago, but once she’s there, she meets lots of fascinating people with crazy stories! Of course, now I’m just making jail sound “fun” to a 5-year-old. I’m bad at this!

What subject would you love to be an expert in?

Whatever subject it would take to get Trump out of office. And this is not a subject, but I’d love to be an expert at playing piano off the cuff at parties. Those people are fun.

Thanks, Beth! The seventh and final season of Orange Is the New Black is now streaming on Netflix.

Photo: Jessica Castro

Hair: Dallin James | Make-up: Beth Follert | Styling: Matthew Peridis

#entertainment spotlight #orange is the new black #oitnb #beth dover #netflix #netflix spotlight

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noona-clock · 4 years

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I Never Knew

Genre: WWII!AU

Pairing: Brian (Day6) x You (Female!Reader!)

Warning: Mentions of war

Part 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, Epilogue | Words: 3,693

*gif courtesy of @cramelot

Nope. Not that one, either.

You let out a forlorn sigh as you put back yet another hairclip that didn’t go with your outfit. One would think that with a collection of twelve clips, you would be able to find one to match every ensemble in one’s wardrobe... but this wasn’t the case tonight, apparently.

You’d tried just about every single one of your clips, holding it up to your hair and examining your reflection in your handmirror.

None of them looked right. They all looked fine, of course, but... they didn’t look right.

“Y/N!” a deep, low voice called out from downstairs. “It’s time to go!”

Your brow furrowed immediately, and you closed the drawer of your vanity which held all of your hair accessories. “I’m not ready!” you replied with a bit of a whine.

Unsurprisingly, you heard your father’s heavy footsteps coming up the stairs, and he appeared in your doorway just moments later.

He didn’t say a word, though. He simply stood there and looked at you with raised eyebrows.

You sat at your vanity, trying to avoid his gaze as long as possible... but...

I mean, your dad was an Army General. If anyone was going to intimidate you, it was going to be him.

“I just don’t want to go,” you finally admitted, letting your shoulders slump as you turned around to face him.

His raised eyebrows instantly transformed, his forehead wrinkling as he stepped into your new bedroom and reached out to place a comforting hand on your shoulder. “Why not? There will be dancing, and there will be lots of young soldiers there who will be dying to dance with you. Those are two of your favorite things!”

You shot your dad a Look, letting him know you didn’t appreciate his assessment of your favorite things -- although, you did enjoy dancing. And you would be lying if you said you didn’t enjoy dancing with a handsome, young soldier. But you weren’t so superficial as to say you liked those things above anything else!

“You have to go,” he continued. “The base is being nice enough to throw me a Welcome Party, and it wouldn’t look good if you -- my only daughter, my only child, my only family -- didn’t attend.”

Leave it to your father to try and guilt-trip you into going to this party.

“I know,” you responded with slightly pursed lips. Because you did know. “I just -- what’s the point in meeting everyone here when we’re probably just going to leave in a few months?”

That’s what had happened at the last base. And the base before that, and the base before that... It had been happening practically your whole life, and while you should be used to it by now, you found... you weren’t. You weren’t used to it. You were tired of it.

Your father let out a soft sigh, reaching down and taking your hand. He held it in-between his, squeezing your fingers reassuringly. “I told you, Cupcake. This is different. This is perm -- okay, nothing in the military is permanent, but this is about as permanent as it gets. We’ll be here at least until the end of the war, whenever that is.”

Even though you knew he was trying to make you feel better... you didn’t feel better. The uncertainty of the war made you feel worse, actually, but you decided not to tell him that. You decided to keep it light and keep him in the dark about your deeper, more cynical thoughts. He had more important things to worry about, after all.

“Even if I wanted to go,” you began. “None of my hairclips match my dress. How can I show my face to all these people I don’t know wearing the wrong hairclip? Or worse, none at all?”

Your father let out a low chuckle, squeezing your hand once more before setting it down in your lap and murmuring that he would be right back.

A sputtering sigh left your lips once your dad disappeared out into the hallway, and you turned to face your mirror. To be honest, you didn’t look terrible without a hairclip. You would be perfectly fine showing up to the party looking just as you did.

You just... didn’t want to go. You didn’t want to meet new people, make new friends, and then have to say goodbye before you even really got to know them.

But you knew you had to go, whether or not you wanted to. As your father had pointed out just a few minutes ago, you were the only family he had. He was the only family you had. The two of you only had each other, and you knew how important his job was -- not only to your country but to him, as well. You had to support him, and going to this welcome party would be a show of support.

So, you opened one of the top drawers of your vanity and plucked out your favorite red lipstick. (You’d just moved into this house yesterday, and yes, you’d already unpacked and organized the entire contents of your vanity.)

As you uncapped and twisted the gold tube, your father reappeared in your room, concealing something in his hands as he approached you.

“Here,” he murmured. He stepped up behind you and held out a pearl-encrusted clip, one you instantly recognized.

Your eyes widened, but before you could turn around to look up at him, he slid the clip into your hair just above your ear.

“Where -- I thought --” you stammered, feeling a lump of emotion forming in your throat.

It was your mother’s favorite hairclip, one you’d thought had been lost during one of your many moves.

“I found it while I was unpacking this morning,” your father told you, his voice soft and wistful.

Your mother had been gone for almost five years now, though both of you still acutely felt her absence. Losing her had been the toughest experience of your life so far, and you still couldn’t talk about her without your eyes filling with tears.

You blinked back those tears as you gazed at your reflection, the pearl clip adorning your hair just as it had your mother’s many, many times before.

“It’s perfect,” you whispered shakily.

Your father slid his hands over your shoulders and bent over to press a kiss to your temple. “You’re her spitting image,” he grinned. “Even more now that you’re older. You look just like she did when I first met her.”

Before any of your tears could slip down onto your cheek, you stood from your chair and moved to wrap your arms around your hulking figure of a father.

“Thank you, Daddy,” you mumbled into the jacket of his uniform.

“And now you’re all ready to go, yes?” he asked as he squeezed you tightly.

You nodded -- carefully so as not to mess up your hair or makeup -- and then pulled away. “I just need to put on my lipstick.”

The second he had slid the hairclip into your coiffure, all of your worries and anxieties about going to the party had melted away. It may sound silly, but it felt like you had a part of her with you now. I mean -- you always did. She was your mother, and you would always have that connection with her. But wearing her hairclip just made you feel... better. It made you feel better, and that’s all there was to it.

As your father turned to leave the room and head downstairs, you grabbed your tube of lipstick from your vanity and bent over so you could see yourself in the mirror. You carefully applied the deep, cherry red to your lips, pursing and pressing them together before checking your hair one more time and leaving your room.

“Come on, Cupcake,” your father grinned as you reached the bottom of the staircase. “Time to go meet some soldiers.”

Yes, time to go meet some soldiers, indeed. And you could only wonder where the night would take you. You might meet some new friends, or you might meet some new... not friends. You truly never knew in a room full of men.

The only way to find out was to just find out. Put on your best smile and prepare to remember a lot of names.

If you were being honest, this welcome party wasn’t much different from any other welcome party you’d attended over the past few years.

All of the soldiers had cleared out and gathered in the base’s canteen. There were streamers and banners hung up on the walls and from the ceiling. A live band was playing, and there was a refreshment table set up in front of the kitchen.

A baby-faced soldier approached you almost immediately, taking off his hat and bowing to you before asking you to dance. Your father introduced you, and like the obedient daughter you were, you accepted the soldier’s proffered hand.

Three more soldiers requested your presence on the dancefloor after that, and you really just felt like you’d pressed ‘Rewind’ on your life and was living through all of the dances and parties you’d attended on military bases in the past.

...But then you saw him.

You were standing at the refreshment table in-between dances, having told your last partner you needed a breather. Munching on a celery stick, you surveyed the room curiously.

And there he was.

Your gazes randomly connected as he stood on the opposite side of the room, talking and smiling with another soldier, and you knew in an instant he would walk over and ask you to dance. You weren’t being smug or pretentious, knowing he would because you were just that beautiful -- no. You just... knew.

And, sure enough, after a few moments of eye contact, he murmured something to his friend and began to weave his way through the crowded dancefloor.

Your heart began to pound inside your chest as he approached you, a soft smile tugging at his lips. You quickly put down your cup of punch, pulling the corners of your mouth into a smile of your own.

“Hi,” he greeted as soon as he was close enough for you to hear him above the music. “I don’t believe we’ve met.”

You simply shook your head.

Now that he was up close, you saw just how incredibly handsome he was. Dark hair, smooth skin, full -- but not too full -- lips, straight teeth, fox-like, almond eyes...

He was, without a doubt, the best looking man you’d ever laid eyes on.

He held his hand out toward you, his grin spreading. “I’m Brian. Brian Kang, Private First Class Kang.”

As your breath caught in your throat, you slipped your hand in his, allowing him to bring it up to his lips.

“I’m...” Oh, dear lord, had you forgotten your name?! No -- no, there it was. “Y/N.”

“Ah, the new General’s daughter,” Brian noted as his smile morphed into a slight smirk.

Again, you simply nodded.

Brian didn’t let go of your hand, but he did use his other hand to gesture toward the dancefloor. “Would you... care to dance?”

“I would love you -- to! I would love to,” you answered a bit frantically, though really only the last part of your answer was frantic.

And now your cheeks were getting fantastically warm.

Brian chuckled softly, but he didn’t say anything as he gently pulled you away from the refreshment table.

The band had just begun playing a lively tune, so Brian took your waist and led you in a dance to match it. The two of you hopped and spun around, and you quickly forgot about how embarrassed you’d just been.

You’d danced with at least seven different soldiers so far tonight, and while none of them had been particularly bad, they hadn’t been Brian. There was just... something about him. You felt comfortable in his arms even though you’d just barely met him. There was no awkwardness to your dancing; it was as if the two of you knew where the other was going to before you even knew it yourselves.

Even though the song was fast, Brian still managed to engage you in conversation -- though you were quite out of breath by the time the band played the final note.

“How about another one?” Brian panted, his eyebrows raising.

You heard the beginning of another upbeat melody, and even though your heart was racing from your energetic dancing... you couldn’t stop yourself from nodding and taking Brian’s hand again.

In fact, you accepted the next three dances with Brian, only taking quick breaks in-between to gulp down some punch.

You could tell other soldiers wanted to cut in and ask you to dance with them instead, but... you pretended you didn’t notice. You didn’t care if it was rude (okay, you cared a little). You were having far too much fun dancing with Brian to want to step away from him. He was handsome, an incredible dancer, and he made you laugh. For right now, that was enough.

When the bandleader announced the last song of the night and introduced one of the soldiers as the singer, your gaze instinctively turned to Brian. You had just danced the last song together, and you expected -- wanted -- him to ask you one final time.

You almost let out a sigh of relief when he extended his hand to you, silently inviting you to be his partner.

A grin formed on your lips as you took his hand, and when the band started to play a slow, easy melody... Brian pulled you close. He slid his arm around your waist, and you slid yours around his neck.

The soldier, Private 2nd Class Jae Park, began to sing along, his smooth voice filling the canteen. And since you weren’t focused so much on your dance moves, you could actually pay attention to the lyrics.

I never knew That roses grew Or that skies were blue or grey I never knew When breezes blew What a summer breeze could say

I never knew That dreams came true And took your cares away, believe me I never knew What love could do Until I met you today

And just like you’d known earlier that Brian would come over and ask you to dance, you knew -- instinctively, you somehow knew with every fiber of your being -- that this song was important.

I never knew what love could do until I met you today.

You were going to fall in love with Brian, and it was going to be magical.

You didn’t wish it. You didn’t hope or wonder or think it.

You knew it.

You smiled to yourself as you swayed rhythmically with him, tightening your hold on his hand and pressing your temple against his cheek. You felt his fingers dig into the small of your back, gripping the fabric of your dress. And, as strange as it sounds, you knew that Brian knew, too.

It was actually a bit terrifying, feeling what you were feeling right now. Knowing these things you’d never known before -- or even thought you would ever know. But along with the terror came a sort of calm, a sense of peace. Add to that the delicious feeling of being in Brian’s arms, and you never wanted this night to end.

The song did end, though, and both of you were extremely hesitant to step away from each other, to let go of each other. So, as soon as Brian’s arm slid from your waist, you lifted your gaze to his.

“Walk me home?” you asked quietly.

Your father had left the party long ago, probably even before you’d danced with Brian for the first time. He’d found some higher-ranking officers and gone to play poker somewhere. It’s what he always did, and why would tonight be any different? In that regard, at least. In other regards, tonight was entirely different.

Brian’s lips quirked into a smile, and he nodded. When he took your hand, you led him out of the canteen and into the slightly frigid night air. Almost as soon as the chill hit your skin, Brian let go of your hand and moved to slide his jacket off of his shoulders. You paused as he reached over, your heart speeding up when he draped the jacket over your shoulders.

“Thank you,” you whispered, tamping down a smile as you gazed up at him.

“You’re welcome,” he whispered back with a teasing smirk. How did he have such an attractive, swoon-worthy smirk?

“How long have you been in the Army?” you asked once the two of you began walking again, your steps slow as they headed toward the outskirts of the base.

“About a year. I volunteered before they could draft me, though who knows if I’ll even get to see any action.”

“You want to see action?” you chuckled.

“Yeah, sure,” he shrugged as he slipped his hands into his pants pockets. “It’s all part of the job.”

“What did you do before this?” you asked -- because even though you’d been around the Army since you were born, you would still rather talk about real life.

Brian took a barely noticeable step closer to you, his arm brushing against yours over his jacket; it was subtle, but you still caught on.

“Well,” he began with a sigh. “I was in school a few years ago, studying business. And once I graduated, I worked at my Uncle’s advertising agency. Nothing exciting, just clerk stuff.”

“I’m guessing you wanted exciting, though.”

“I guess you could say that,” Brian replied with a grin and a soft laugh. “So, I enlisted. And here we are.”

“Here we are,” you murmured.

“What about you? What’s your story?”

A weak, somewhat sad smile tugged at your lips before you answered him. “My dad’s been in the military all my life, so my story is really just me following him around.”

“You’ve moved a lot, then?”

You nodded, humming your response. “We’ve been to three bases in the last year.”

“That’s pretty rough,” Brian said softly.

You simply lifted one shoulder in a half-shrug. You didn’t want to unload all of your problems on him, not after you literally just met him a couple of hours ago.

But you would share this with him: “I actually didn’t really want to come tonight because I’ve had to say goodbye to so many people in the last few years, so what’s the point in meeting new ones?”

Brian glanced over at you, eyebrows raised curiously. “Yeah? I can understand that.”

It was your turn to take a step closer this time, and you reached out of Brian’s jacket to brush your fingers over his. “I’m... glad I changed my mind, though.”

Brian wasted no time in taking your hand, linking your fingers together and gently pulling you even closer to him. “I’m glad you changed your mind, too, Y/N. Really glad.”

You grinned like a schoolgirl down at your shoes, holding onto Brian’s jacket with one hand and holding his hand with the other.

When your new house came into view, you slowed your steps even more, tugging Brian’s arm to slow him down, too.

The two of you eventually came to a stop in front of your mailbox. Your heart began to beat just a bit faster as Brian turned toward you... but then he paused. He looked up toward the sky, lifting a hand and pointing upwards.

“Hey, look,” he murmured. You tilted your head to follow his finger, your gaze landing on... well, a bunch of stars.

“What am I looking at?” you asked.

“Now that we’re away from the lights of the base, you can see the stars more clearly. Look, there’s Orion.”

Your brow furrowed slightly as you leaned in closer to him to get a better look.

“That’s the one with... the three stars in a row, right?” you whispered.

Brian hummed, and you realized just how close he was to your ear. A chill ran down your spine because of it.

“Yeah,” he whispered back. “And there’s Ursa Minor... Ursa Major...”

“What are those?”

“The Little Dipper and the Big Dipper,” he grinned.

“Oh! I didn’t know they had official names.”

“All stars and constellations do, actually. Like plants and animals.”

“How do you know so much about astronomy?” you asked with a giggle. And you made not one move to step away from him.

“Just a hobby, I guess.” He brought his arm down, and you shifted your gaze back to Earth. Back to him.

“Do you... have a favorite? Constellation?” you asked quietly, still standing incredibly close to him but now looking him right in the eye.

A grin tugged at Brian’s lips, and he brought one hand up to your face, sliding his fingers over your cheek until he cradled it in his palm. “I do,” he answered.

“What is it?”

His grin grew wider, and that teasing look of his was back. “I don’t know, that’s kind of personal... Maybe I’ll tell you later.”

You rolled your eyes playfully and shook your head as much as his hand on your cheek would allow.

And then, as quick as a lightning strike, the overwhelming urge to kiss him washed over you.

Just like you’d known earlier that he would ask you to dance, just like you’d known earlier that you would fall in love with him... you knew right now that you needed to kiss him. And, judging by the look in his eyes, he knew it, too.

“I don’t...” you started, your breath hitching. “I don’t normally kiss someone the same night I’ve met them.”

Actually, you’d never done that.

“Me neither,” Brian agreed.

But you stood on your toes and pressed your lips to his, anyway.

And the thought ran through your head that this very well may be your last first kiss... for the rest of your life.

Part 2

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thathawaiianchick · 4 years

Text

my wolfstar fic recc

29 of my favs, plus 2 comics :)

sorted from shortest to longest, series at the bottom

i like long fics, i like raising Harry AUs, i like Lay Low at Lupin’s fics, i like marauder era “we’re 70′s trash fics”, i like angst, but i also love “everybody lives”, kind of a mix of everything but seriously a lot of raising Harry AUs because it fills a need i guess

some super popular, some relative unknowns i think

all fics that characterize wolfstar for me :)

JKR has disappointed me supremely, but fan works will hold my love forever

part 2 because i forgot some

STANDALONES

1. A Day Like Any Other by dustmouth

(a comic, not really a fic, just hosted on AO3)

The one where Sirius keeps receiving unwanted mail, Remus drinks a lot of tea, Peter's out on a hot date, and James is offering unwanted make overs.

(Or the answer to the question of exactly how many cursed letters can you flush down the loo).

2. To Keep a Star by dustmouth

(a comic, not really a fic, just hosted on AO3)

Daily life in the Intergalactic Postal Service. Or the one where Sirius is a postal star and Remus lives on a spaceship.

3. in your bedroom, during the war by lupinely

There’s the bed, there’s the room, and there’s Remus. This, at least, Sirius knows for sure. (4Kish)

4. Home We’ll Go by appalachian_fireflies

"I can't, I don't know how," Remus stuttered as Molly dropped the infant into his arms, who immediately ceased crying and stared up at him with wide eyes.

"Nonsense," Molly said. "Be a dear and keep him from falling while I feed Ginny."

"Ba!" Ron giggled, and slapped Remus in the face.

Molly is the emergency contact for the Order when those listed can no longer be reached. Remus' life finds a different path. (10K)

5. A Store of Happiness by coyotesuspect

Harry spends the summer after his third year living with Sirius and Professor Lupin. (10K)

6. In The Bed by bigblackdog

Left to his own devices the summer after the prank, Sirius crafts an unusual gift to mend his relationship with Remus. (11K)

7. Vigil Strange I Kept by whitmans_kiss

Remus' lycanthropy has caused his body to seriously deteriorate over the years due to the constant stress of the transformations, and by his fifty-sixth birthday, it's certain that he won't live to finish out the year. However, a cure has recently been discovered - but what if the cure is just as bad as the disease? (11K)

8. Elucidation Practice by montparnasse

Christmas, 1978. Remus, wrestling with the mighty problems of gift-giving on a budget, contemplates life, love, London in winter, and falling off the edge of the world with Sirius Black. (21K)

9. On a Windswept Cliff by starfishstar

On the cliff top where the fearsome Lord Black once stalked, an outcast man meets a big black dog, and things are not as they seem.

Or: The Remus/Sirius gothic romance AU. (21K)

10. Lethe and Mnemosyne by montparnasse

Winter '79. Looking to get out from under the black-hole overhang of wartime, Sirius and Remus take off to play house on the Cornish moors. It goes downhill from there. (26K)

11. Purity by FelisA

Sirius resurrection fic. (27K) 12. Common Woodbrown by imochan

Look well into thyself; there is a source of strength which will always spring up if thou wilt always look there. In 1985, Remus Lupin realizes that Sirius Black is innocent. Now, he just has to prove it. (36K)

13. Wilde and Whimsy by chasing bluefish, obsob

In a world where Dumbledore defeated Voldemort during the first war, the wizarding community is picking up the pieces and getting back to their lives. Remus Lupin becomes a person of interest in a murder at the bookshop where he works and Sirius Black and James Potter, aurors, are sent to investigate. As they navigate the crime itself, Remus and Sirius realize that there is something to their instant chemistry. But they need to keep their newfound attraction under wraps while trying to find the killer and stop them from claiming more victims. (36K)

14. Paper Wings by Krislaughs

(not hosted on ao3)

What if Sirius Black sent a final message from Azkaban? Enter the home of the last Marauder in the days following Voldemort’s downfall. Lost and alone, Remus asks a question of the void, a question whose answer will send him around the world. Meeting puppies, Kneazles, dementors, and nomads, Remus learns more about himself and his friends than he ever thought possible. Learn the secrets of the Marauder’s map and the world’s best chocolate, how various Death Eaters occupied themselves after the fall of their lord, and why you should never leave Remembralls lying around.

15. Uncreated Night by earlybloomingparentheses

Remus can drift through whole worlds in his own mind. Sirius lives in his body, electric, ablaze. In 1979 and 1996 and 1978 and 1981 and in many other years and many different places, they search for the bridges between them and the spaces they can share. Time after time, they fight their way back together, head and heart, mind and body.

And in 1998, Remus stands before the veil, wondering if he should finally stop thinking, and just act. (41.5K)

16. Lemon Chiffon Yellow by Spklvr

An unplanned night between Remus and Tonks ends up changing their lives forever. (42K)

17. The Weather Inside by earlybloomingparentheses

Sirius rides a flying motorbike, and snogs strangers in pubs, and strikes moody poses Remus finds irritatingly attractive. But for Remus, who drinks milky tea and wears flannel pyjamas, there's a chasm cracked right down the fault line between wanting and doing.

How he wants, though. How he wants. (43K)

18. the dogfather by hollimichele

“I’m not a reverse werewolf either,” says the man. “I’m your godfather.” (47K)

19. Domestic Creatures by veeagainst

Growing up is hard to do -- but the journey is better if you take someone with you. (53K)

20. Leave the Children Behind by montparnasse

Bravery, sometimes, is the ending just as much as the beginning. Remus, Sirius, and a series of choices.

Or, a love story—backwards and forwards. (54K)

21. A Series of Sketches Done in Black Ink by mustntgetmy

Non-magic AU. Sirius had always imagined the aftermath of falling in love would mean lightness, and an escape from all the horrors of his childhood. But the past never leaves, and even love can't stop bad memories from resurfacing.

An almost year in the life of Sirius and Remus's first year as a couple replete with art and tangled sheets, and containing the following: filled sketchbook pages from people lost and people found, terrible biscuits from an excellent therapist, mismatched music records, expensive hot chocolate, a lost brother, photographs (some invasive and some invoking terrible memories), a reckoning with the past, a promise of the future, and yet another ridiculously over the top Halloween party. (57K)

22. Alt Ed by NachoDiablo

“Remus? Who the bloody hell is Remus?” James is scrambling to straighten his chair as McGonagall glares at him from the head table.

Mary smiles innocently. “Oh, just a new friend that Lily met over the holidays. He’s homeschooled, just moved into her neighborhood it seems. She says he’s very clever. And I hear he’s quite fit, as well.”

AU where Remus and Lily become friends outside of Hogwarts, setting James and Sirius on a quest to learn more about this mysterious newcomer. (61K)

23. Indiana Lupin and the Search for the Conqueror by nekarose

Remus Lupin is an undercover archaeologist for the British Museum and is sent to Greenland to investigate a Roman shipwreck. In Greenland he meets Sirius Black, makes a real discovery and soon enough the two of them are racing through the world in search of the remains of the Library of Alexandria with Remus’ arch-enemy right at their heels. (66K)

24. Le Mot Vagabond by ironicallyinternational

(It all starts with Peter Pettigrew dying twice.

First, Peter kills Wormtail (discreetly), and then Sirius kills him (less discreetly).

Losing a friend is never easy, even amidst the ravages of war, but losing the last of your childhood alongside him is far worse.)

War is a complicated, messy thing. The Marauders have their fucked up shit to deal with, but they also have each other, and that counts for a lot. (151K)

SERIES:

25. The Hole in the Ground by sostrata

(5 works) A series of fics about Sirius and Remus raising Harry in their home, The Hole in the Ground. (18k)

26. Holding Out by bigblackbog

(works 2)

On Halloween, 1981 Sirius and Remus abscond with Harry despite their recently rocky relationship. (36K)

27. Maddest House by busaikko

(6 works)

old as hell. Another wolfstar raising Harry fic (55K)

28. Lycanthropic Studies by Eiiri

(3 works)

After the Battle of Hogwarts, Remus recognizes something familiar in Draco Malfoy and offers him sanctuary. With nowhere else to turn--his parents in prison, his home a crime scene--Draco reluctantly accepts and becomes a tolerated, if not welcome, member of his schoolyard rivals' and wartime adversaries' family of choice. As pages of the lunar calendar turn and the summer wears on,Draco and the others begin to see each other in a different light. (139K)

29. Stealing Harryverse by copperbadge

(works 12)

On a dark night long ago, Sirius Black took a wrong turn and never found Peter Pettigrew. Instead of Azkaban, Sirius settled down in Little Whinging to keep an eye on his godson, and hired Remus Lupin to run his bookshop for him. Then one day when Harry was eight, Sirius found out how the Dursleys treated him, and stole him away.

Stealing Harry is an alternate universe version of Harry Potter's life before his time at Hogwarts. It is the story of Harry's family: Sirius and Remus, Ted and Andromeda, Nymphadora, Neville Longbottom, and even Severus Snape, all banded together against a newly powerful Peter Pettigrew who is still searching for a way to resurrect Voldemort.

Laocoon's Children follows Harry through his time at Hogwarts as he develops a very different group of friends: Hufflepuff Draco Malfoy, Ravenclaw Padma Patil, and Gryffindor Neville Longbottom, strange companions for a Harry who was sorted into Slytherin -- the house of his beloved Professor Snape.

This universe ends in Harry's third year, and is partially incomplete. As it is not likely to be finished, the last story in the series is a group of notes I made on where the story would have gone and how it would have ended. (443.3K)

30. All the Young Dudes by MsKingBean89

(4 works)

LONG fic charting the marauders' time at Hogwarts (and beyond) from Remus' PoV - diversion from canon in that Remus's father died and he was raised in a children's home, and is a bit rough around the edges. Otherwise canon-compliant. 1971 - 1995 (557K)

31. Crow Rides A Pale Horse by tb_ll57

(4 works)

The note pinned to his collar read 'Harry J Potter - please accept'. The Dursleys had left him with nothing else but a pillow sack with half a sleeve of McVities biscuits, a mealy apple, and ten pounds. (618K)

#hp #harry potter #wolfstar #remus lupin #sirius black #killing sirius was not punk rock jk rowling #nor was killing off remus #this is the barest reason to want to kick jkr #reference for myself #i dont have all of these bookmarked on ao3 even if they're some of my favs #raising harry #fic rec #this only took me an hour to make i can't believe i've been procrastinating this #lolol yes i can #i can believe

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devaigh · 4 years

Text

The Winner ~Chapter 8

A/N: This chapter is raw and unedited. Sorry for any mistakes.

Previously || 1. 2. 3. 4. 5. 6. 7.

Sassenach,

It feels like forever since I held you in my arms, though I know it has only been a month. I don't know how I'm to survive now without you. I find myself awake at night, reaching for you, only to remember myself. It pains me knowing the year is still ahead of us. I confess, since you have shared my bed, I don't sleep well without you. Call me what you will, but it is true. I miss you, mo nighean donn.

Life in the service is no longer what it once was for me. I am ready to finish, so we may truly start our lives together. I pray that day shall come quickly.

As it stands, the days are long. There is a layer of fine dust that has settled over the camp. I taste nothing but the dry air, I feel the grit against my skin, and I find myself shaking out everything I own. It never helps.

The days are hot, and the nights, dangerous. There are small villages my team has encountered, while they are not hostile, they are wary. I don’t blame them. I have picked up some of the language and I try to communicate though it seems like the people pretend to not understand.

I hope your schooling is going well. Know that I'm proud of you. I cant wait to see you realize your dream. I love you, mo chridhe. I'll write you again soon.

Yours,

Jamie.

*****

Brianna frowned, playing with the corner of the paper as she read over the letter once more. The faded yellow page had been carefully tucked away inside the the worn journal that lay open on the desk before her.

It didn't make any sense. How could two people who seemingly loved each other live half their lives apart? What happened to make her parents not speak for 20 years?

And what of this little brother? What was he like?

Did he know about her?

“Of course not.” she whispered aloud. Clearly, she wasn't thinking straight. Jamie had said that he himself had no idea she existed prior to getting her letter, so why would this mysterious sibling?

It was all so complicated.

She groaned. Not only had she gone and invited her father to her wedding, who had actually shown up no less, but Brianna had now openly welcomed Jamie's son to join the festivities.

A brother.

How was she to explain that to her mother?

After learning about the boy, Brianna had excused herself from the rest of the party. The noise of the crowd lingering around her had made her head throb so she sought refuge upstairs. Once she had procured herself a rather healthy glass of wine, she rummaged around her desk looking for the old book bound in aged leather.

Her mother's journal.

It seemed like ages since she had found it, tucked away in a box in the back of the attic. Her mother had been on call one weekend leaving Brianna alone, tasked with clearing out the musty old room. A storm had come through and damaged part of the roof of their house, and repairs were needed. A whole section of the roof had needed replaced and part of the attic had started to leak. So Brianna had taken it on to try to clear out what she could.

Somewhere, beyond a huge stack of boxes that had once belonged to her Great Uncle Lambert, past even more stacks of boxes and an old crib, sitting next to what looked like a giant bird cage, was a single, small box simply labeled Boston. It was in that box that Brianna had discovered the journal.

Brianna had barely remembered Boston. Even though she had been born there, and lived for the first several years of her life in the city, it wasn’t home. Curious, Brianna opened the box and found the thin, leather bound book. There had been no title. Nothing to show what it was. Only when she had flipped it open to the middle, had she realized what she had found. At first, she felt a twinge of guilt for reading something so private, but she found that she couldn't stop herself. She had discovered an old diary her mother had kept, years before she was born. Most of the entries were simple, others were long winded excerpts that mentioned a man named James Fraser.

It came as no surprise to learn that Fraser, or Jamie, as her mother had called him, was her birth father. Brianna knew that her mother had been married to a man named Frank Randall when Brianna was born, but she had learned the truth about the man years ago. She knew that Frank couldn't have been her biological father thanks to a lab experiment in junior high. When Brianna had compared her blood type to her mother's and the man who she had though was her dad, she had learned there was no possible chance Frank could have fathered her. Brianna had never told her mother about what she knew however. Frank had always been a subject that Claire avoided. That was why the journal was such a surprise to find. With each page, Brianna had found more questions to go along with those that had been burning through her mind. Attic forgotten, she had slid down the wall to sit on the floor, caught up in the need to discover anything about the man who really had fathered her.

There had been so little to go on. Only his name, and the fact that he was Scottish military. Which had suddenly opened a whole world of questions up. Where was her father? Was he still alive? Would she be able to find him? Did he know she existed? Had he wanted her? Or rather, had he even cared? What were his reasons for leaving them? Who was this man who had left her mother alone and pregnant? What had happened between them?

As it turned out, James Fraser was still very much alive. Alongside the journal, Brianna had found a small stack of bound letters, held together with simple string. Delicate, fragile things, the envelopes were sticking together. Bree had picked through them, one by one, her fingers tracing the tight, cramped writing scrawled across the front of them.

She still had them. All 15 letters. They now lived in a box she had stashed away, carefully under lock and key. The box, was a simple wooden thing, she had also picked out of the attic. It was now sitting in the bottom drawer of her desk. Chewing on her bottom lip, she glanced down at the drawer in question. Roger didn't even know she had them.

She looked again at the letter in her hands. Something had happened between her parents, that much was obvious. And Brianna was determined to find out exactly what it was.

But first, she needed to find her mother.

******

He wanted to shake her.

James Fraser had never been the most patient of people. His hot temper was always quick to flair, but he wasn't one to start hitting people, even if they were trying on his nerves.

But ah Dhia, did he want to hit something.

"Claire, please. Just let me explain.."

"Explain! What is there to explain, Jamie? I SAW the announcement! You looked rather happy for a dead man!" Claire huffed, her hands curled into fists. "I grieved for you! Knowing you were dead I tried to honour your memory only to discover you LIED to me!"

"ENOUGH!" He roared, crossing the distance between them as his large hands took hold of her shoulders. "Claire! Listen to me, damn ye! I know ye think the worst of me, and ye have every right too, but it's no true!"

"Let go of me, you damn Bloody...Scot!" She bit off, trying to push him away. It was to no avail, he was still so much stronger than she was.

"No. No until ye agree to listen to what I have to say."

Claire glared at him, her mouth set in a firm line.

"Dammit Claire, there's things I need to tell ye!"

Jamie looked away for a moment before meeting her eyes again. "I'm no the same man ye once knew, but I swear to ye, I never would have hurt ye, had I been able."

"You were dead, Jamie." Claire said, her voice wavered, hiding years of heartbreak. "You were dead, and I was alone, pregnant with your child. Then I discovered you not only alive, but married to another woman. What the hell was I supposed to think?"

Jamie frowned. "It's true I nearly died. I came damn close to it. But I dinna ken how ye believed I was dead."

“I received a letter.” She hissed.

Well, that was news.

"A letter?" Jamie gripped her shoulders tighter. “What letter?”

Claire narrowed her eyes. “The letter that was addressed to your fiance, informing me of your death!’’ She shook her head, chewing on the corner of her lip. “I didn’t know I was your fiance.”

Jamie felt the color drain from his face. “I.. well..”

“You what, just decided that on your own? “

“No. I...”

“You leave for war, leaving me pregnant and alone then what, fake your own death so you can run off and marry someone else?”

“That’s no what happened! Claire, If you would just let me explain!”

“It doesn’t matter Jamie, I don’t want to talk about it.” She turned away “There’s nothing more to say.”

She took a deep breath, in an attempt to steady herself. A soft chime rang out in the distance, the melodic tune of the local village clock.

It was midnight.

“Claire.” Jamie reached out to her, His hand hesitating over her shoulder. “I ken ye’re angry with me. Ye have every right to be. But I beg ye, to just listen to what I have to say.”

She turned then, giving him a cold stare.

“I’m no asking for yer forgiveness lass, I just wanted ye to know the truth.”

Claire regarded him for one long moment. She could see the vulnerability in his face, and his eyes…

How often had she dreamed of his eyes?

She could feel her resolve cracking, the wall she had built around her heart starting to crumble. ‘Damn him’ she thought, as color rose in her cheeks. Jamie had always had this gift of undoing her with just a look. It was infuriating.

“How…” she started, hating the way her voice caught. “How do I know what you tell me isn’t just what you think I would want to hear?”

She met his eyes again as a muscle twitched in his jaw. A flutter of movement caught her attention as she realized he was tapping his fingers against his thigh. It was a gesture she recognized.

“Claire.” Jamie spoke softly, though his voice sounded tight. “I swear to ye, I’ll no lie to ye. I dinna ken if I have all of the facts, but I promise ye, I’ll share everything I know.”

*****

The walk back from the beach was a long one.

The wind had picked up bringing with it the promise of rain, causing both Jamie and Claire to seek shelter in the warmth of the beach house. While there was still much left unspoken between them, the silence between them had changed.

He watched her, her pale face half hidden as she walked just ahead of him. Her arms were folded against her chest, keeping the shawl tucked around her shoulders. Her eyes were distant, her bottom lip caught between her teeth as a wrinkle formed across her brow. It was several long moments before she spoke again.

“I don’t know, Jamie.”

Her voice was soft, barely more than a whisper, yet Jamie remained silent, sensing her need to speak.

“I don’t know if I want to hear what you have to say.”

“Sassenach..” he began, one hand automatically reaching for her arm before seeing the glare aimed over her shoulder at him.

“You were dead, Jamie. I mourned for you.” She stopped again, just shy of the stone courtyard. “I had waited for you to come back. I was so lost. All while I was raising your daughter, alone.”

“Aye, I believe ye, Sassenach. And ye did a fine job of raising the bairn, I’m sure.”

Claire’s mouth set into a firm line. “Jamie, I would really, rather not talk about the past. Can we just get through this wedding? I still don’t know why you’re here, or what Brianna was thinking this would turn out to be, but can we just get this over with, and go back to our own lives?”

The look on her face was enough to crush his spirit.

“I swear to ye, Claire, I didn’t know.”

You didn’t know? Do you really think I can believe that?” She rolled her eyes. “That’s all you can say? That you didn't know?"

“No. Listen to me, Claire! I told ye that I didn’t remember! I didn’t remember my own name, much less anything else. Do ye know what it’s like to live as a shell, not knowing who ye are, or what you’re doing? How it feels like half of your heart, your very soul is missing?

“Do I know? DO I KNOW? Yes! Damn you! I spent TWENTY YEARS mourning you! Angry at you that you left me, alone, pregnant and you have the nerve to...to…

“Now ye listen to me, Claire..”

“NO! How DARE you show up here, to MY daughter’s wedding and..”

“She’s MY daughter, too, Claire.”

“Oh you may have created her, but you certain-”

‘’Brianna INVITED me here, She asked me to come, and you-”

"SHE can hear you!”

Whatever Claire had been about to say caught in her throat. Both Jamie and Claire froze, like they had just been doused with a bucket of water.

Standing in front of the french doors, stood Brianna, looking livid, the color in her cheeks nearly the same shade as her hair. She glanced between both of her parents who stood inches from each other, watching as both seemed to shrink a bit before her.

Jamie’s throat moved, and he cleared his throat, “A neighan, I’m-”

“Yelling loud enough to wake the entire house? I could hear the two of you from my window!”

“Bree..”

“NO. Stop! I don’t know what happened between you two, or why you;re both arguing. But this isn’t the time or the place! There's a storm coming and both of you need to get inside!"

Jamie and Claire looked at each other for a moment before they both moved towards the door.

"It's clear we need to talk. All THREE of us."

"Yes, dear." Claire said as she passed her daughter. "The sooner the better."

Jamie hung back, for just a moment, watching the two women.

"Lead the way, a neighan"

#The Winner #chapter 8 #outlander fanfiction #outlander au #outlander fanfic #jamie and claire #jamie x claire #Jamie Fraser #Claire Beauchamp #brianna mackenzie

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