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thegirlonpeetamellark · 3 years

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Christmas Break - Part 1

Surprise!! After a looong time away Court returns to Everlark fic world with a little holiday treat for everyone - enjoy! :)

Hi everyone. So 2020 has sucked. For me, the beginning of quarantine was actually a bit of a gift. Being home gave me the gift of time, something I haven’t had much of as my daughters (who were very little when I started writing in this fandom) have gotten older. While I never stopped writing, it was a struggle to find long enough chunks of time to get into a flow. I started writing again with earnest. Not all of it was my fanfiction; some of it was my original work. El keeps me posted on the humbling and kind asks she gets about my writing. I felt bad that despite my increased writing, I still wasn’t ready to update any WIPs. But I did remember a story I had started for the final holiday PiP that I was never able to get past the first page (due to lack of time that year) and to my surprise, it started flowing. I had every intention of finishing it and having El post it as a gift to this fandom. But once my school went “back” in October and hybrid learning started, that was it. My time was gone. And further, my family experienced the very sudden and non-Covid-related death of my aunt. So while I have nearly half of this story written, it’s not done. But it will be, very soon, since it is a one-shot. As with all my stories, it took on a life of its own and it needs more love. So what I have for the readers who have loyally followed me is the first part, the part that involves Christmas. It’s my hope to have a second part posted in a week or two, so that by the time that part posts, a final part is nearly done.

Thank you for your asks and your patience, and thank you to El, one of my favorite people in this world and the best thing my time in this fandom has given me. Thank you for your encouragement. Our friendship means the world to me.

Here’s to a better 2021. Love to you all. Court

Christmas Break

Fuck, not again, Peeta grouses as the opening notes of that insidious Mariah Carey song pipe through the loudspeaker. That’s the third time in the last two hours. He’s all for holiday spirit, but if he never hears this fucking song again it will be too soon.

Leaning his forehead against the cold pane of glass, he peers out of the fourth-story window into the darkened sky. When he had arrived at work a few hours ago, the snow had just been starting to fall; a slow, lazy tumble of flakes. Now it’s coming down in a tumultuous swirl. It figures Panem would finally see a white Christmas his first Christmas Eve on rotation in the emergency room. No doubt the weather is partially to blame for the crush of bodies crowding the waiting room tonight.

Peeta walks away from the window and opens the cabinet where he stashes his Clif bars. The economy-sized box looks suspiciously closer to empty than it did the other day. He’s heard complaints from other doctors and nurses that snacks are pilfered on a regular basis and was warned to label his own boxes. But he had forgone the warnings. If someone needed an energy bar badly enough to steal one, what was the $20 he had spent on them at Costco. He snags one and unwraps it.

He’s just raised it to his mouth when his Apple watch pings and his silenced cell phone pulses insistently against his thigh. Heaving a loud sigh, he sets down the energy bar and withdraws the phone from his pocket.

“Mom, you’ve got exactly 60 seconds,” he grits out. He doesn’t even need to look at the screen to confirm it’s her. She’s called twice already tonight, calls he’s ignored with good reason, but somehow his mother thinks a phone call from her trumps any actual emergencies her doctor son could be dealing with. Which, tonight, have been nonstop since his shift began at six.

“Please tell me you ate something,” she begins.

“I was just about to, when you called,” he replies. “I’ve only got a couple of minutes. It’s been utter chaos for the last four hours.”

“We missed you at dinner. I can’t remember the last Christmas Eve when I didn’t have all three of my boys together.” Peeta closes his eyes. All these years my mother has been gushing about having a doctor in the family, and yet she never stopped to consider the ramifications of actually having a doctor in the family, he thinks. Particularly its impact on holiday gatherings. She obviously hadn’t learned anything from this past Thanksgiving, as now, just a month later, she’s already dumping a fresh guilt trip on him for missing another family dinner.

She continues, “And Jackson and Maxwell were just devastated when they heard you weren’t coming, until I assured them they’d see you tomorrow. We will see you tomorrow, yes?”

Peeta suppresses another exasperated sigh and breaks off a chunk of the Clif bar. “Yes, Mom, I’ll be there.” And though it’s childish, he crams the bar into his mouth and mumbles around it, “I wouldn’t miss it for anything.” His chewing masks the sarcasm that weighs down the words.

“Excellent. We need an updated family portrait before Everly and Rye have to leave for her parents’ house.” Placated, his mother moves to ends the call, but not before getting in a less-than-subtle comment about how much she adores his brother Rye’s fiancée and how happy she is Rye is settling down.

Staring at the disconnected call flashing on the screen, Peeta tries not to let the remark get to him. Mostly because he knows it’s a lie. His mother has complained more than once about Everly and how she’s not good enough for Rye. Peeta knows the dig was directed at him. He hasn’t truly had a serious girlfriend since junior year of college; just a few casual relationships that barely qualified as relationships. He doesn’t know how his mother expects him to meet someone with the hours he keeps. And his father, for as close as they are, never seems willing to jump to Peeta’s defense.

Taking a deep breath to let his irritation suffuse, he jams his phone back in his pocket and scarfs down the rest of his pathetic dinner. All three bites of it. Then he uses the restroom, dutifully washes his hand, and stalks out of the staff lounge, his short break over.

As he strides up the corridor, he hears loud shouting coming from the ER waiting room.

“…should be asleep in her bed, waiting for Santa Claus to come, but instead, we’re still here waiting for someone to take a look at her arm! It’s been over two hours! Don’t you people have any compassion? Or is Ebenezer Freaking Scrooge running this place tonight?”

Curious, Peeta veers towards the reception desk, where his eyes land on the ranting woman. She’s young, probably no older than her mid-twenties, and in spite of the fact that her dark hair is spilling out of a messy braid and she’s not wearing any makeup, Peeta is immediately struck by her beauty. The rosy flush to her cheeks from her tirade actually makes her even prettier. She’s cradling a toddler and protectively shielding the little girl’s right arm. The toddler’s blonde head rests on her mother’s shoulder, her thumb wedged into her tiny pink mouth. Her left arm clutches a stuffed orange cat. She looks tired. Actually, both mother and daughter do.

“Miss, I understand your frustration, I really do,” the receptionist says calmly, her eyes cutting to Peeta as he stops by her side. He reads the name on the file on top of the stack, the next patient scheduled to be seen: MCMURPHY, JOSEPH. Clearly not the little girl in front of him.

“I don’t think you do!” the young mother cries, her eyes flashing steel. “She’s three, she’s in pain, and she’s scared. And what’s more, I’ve seen at least five people go ahead of us who came in after us!”

“That’s not how the emergency room works, miss,” the receptionist replies. She drums her fingertips on the desk, offering the young mother a tight smile.

“It’s Christmas Eve,” the young mother adds, an edge of desperation creeping into her tone. Discreetly, Peeta moves around the receptionist’s chair, scanning the desktop until he spies the stack of files for the patients awaiting admission. While the receptionist continues to give the young mother the run-around, he thumbs through the stack, searching. His eyes land on what he’s looking for: a date of birth. His lips tip up. Bingo. This has to be it: HAWTHORNE, IVY ANN.

At the exact second his hand snatches Ivy’s file from the pile and slips the other one in amongst the stack, the young mother’s eyes lock on his. Her gaze narrows. He can see the exhaustion all over her beautiful face. Her full lips twitch, her countenance suspicious as they stare at one another.

“Ivy Hawthorne?” Peeta taps the file he had extricated. An immediate flicker of relief lights the young mother’s mercury eyes, and that lush mouth breaks into a grateful, relieved smile. The receptionist’s neck snaps up. “I’ve got this,” he adds, his tone leaving no room for her to argue with him. It’s not protocol for Peeta to take a patient directly, but it’s also not blatantly against the rules. Sure, it might mean a little more work for him, but if it means he can get this little girl home sooner on Christmas Eve, it’s worth it.

He smiles at the little girl. “Ivy, I’m Doctor Mellark. I’m going to help make you feel better, okay?” She nods once but doesn’t lift her head from her mother’s shoulder. Peeta’s arm sweeps to the side, ushering the young mother and Ivy past the desk. He scans the hallway and spies a partially drawn curtain halfway up the corridor. He leads them to the available partition and close the curtain behind them. As he turns to face them, he nearly slams into the woman. She hasn’t moved, and her luminous grey eyes fasten to his. She looks as if she’s going to say something, but several seconds pass and she’s still quiet, still watching him. The silence starts to become uncomfortable. Peeta clears his throat.

“If you’d have a seat, please, Mrs. Hawthorne. You can hold her while I get some more information from you.”

The young woman’s lips part slightly, again appearing as if she wants to say something, but instead she shuffles forward and Peeta waits while she settles on the edge of the hospital bed, gingerly adjusting Ivy so she’s sitting sideways across her mother’s lap.

Peeta sinks down onto the stool and scoots towards the edge of the bed. This close he has a much better look at Ivy’s mother. She really is a beautiful young woman, and given how adorable Ivy is Peeta assumes her husband is probably also very attractive. He feels a twinge of jealousy. Lucky bastard. Pretty wife, cute kid…probably has a nice little house and a golden retriever too. Living the dream. His dream, if he allows himself to admit it to anyone but his mother. If he was being perfectly honest, he had always envisioned himself married by now.

“How old are you, Ivy?” he ask, even though he knows from her chart and her mother’s declaration that she’s three years old. She hesitates, and still clutching the stuffed cat, manages to display three fingers. Peeta smiles at her again.

“I have a nephew who is the exact same age as you are. He told me just last week that he’s a big boy now. Are you a big girl, Ivy?” He keeps his tone gentle, hoping it will put her at ease with him. She nods, her big blue eyes lightening imperceptibly. “I thought so. Can you be a big girl and tell me what happened to your arm?”

Her mother answers automatically, “She fell. I was only gone—” Peeta holds up his palm. He has the triage nurse’s initial assessment, so he knows Ivy’s arm is likely broken. What he doesn’t know is how the arm got broken. And those details he needs to try to get from Ivy herself. Kids her age always tell the truth when it comes to how they were injured, and unfortunately it’s part of Peeta’s job to make sure there isn’t a more sinister reason she’s in the E.R. tonight, no matter how sweet and innocent her mother appears. He’s already had a few encounters with suspected child abuse, though his gut tells him that isn’t the case with Ivy Hawthorne.

“Please. I would like Ivy to tell me how it happened.”

Something dangerous flints in Ivy’s mother’s now stormy grey eyes.

“She. Fell.” The words are curt, enunciated coolly, but her voice is soft and Peeta can tell she’s keeping her temper in check for the benefit of her daughter. Eyes still pinned to his, she inhales deeply. A second later, her shoulders relax. “Go ahead and tell the nice doctor how you hurt your arm,” she whispers, stroking Ivy’s curls.

“I was trying to see Santa,” Ivy replies, her tongue tripping in a lisp on the “S’s.”

“What do you mean by that?” he prompts her.

Ivy scrunches up her button nose. “I was trying to see up the chimney. ‘Cause the chimney at Aunt Katniss’s house is so skinny and Santa Claus is real fat and I don’t know how he’s gonna fit down it to bring me my presents!” Her blue eyes brim with tears and her lower lip starts to tremble. Peeta reaches over and pats her knee.

“I wouldn’t worry about that, sweetheart. Santa Claus is magic. He’ll get you your presents, no matter what the chimney looks like.” He exchanges a look with her mother.

“It was all my fault,” she says quietly. “I went in the kitchen, to get the cookies and milk—”

“And the carrots! For Rudolph and the other reindeer!” Ivy chimes in, her eyes shiny wet.

“I never should have left her alone, not even for a second. This is my fault. It’s my fault. She wouldn’t have slipped and fallen off the hearth if I had been watching her.” Guilt chokes her words, and it sounds as if she’s close to tears.

“Accidents happen, Mrs. Hawthorne,” Peeta says empathetically, “that’s why there are emergency rooms.” She presses her lips together, her brows knitting.

“It’s Everdeen,” she says quietly. Peeta drops his eyes to Ivy’s chart, and furrows his brows, his gaze wandering to the young woman’s left hand. No ring. A brief thrill curls through him at the thought that she’s single. Asshole, he immediately chides himself. So not what you should be thinking about right now. He scans the chart more carefully and shakes his head.

“I’m sorry,” he begins, “but this lists Primrose Hawthorne as the mother, under the Parent/Guardian information, and a Rory Hawthorne as the father. I just assumed—”

She cuts him off. “Primrose Hawthorne was her mother. But I’m not Primrose Hawthorne. I’m Katniss. Katniss Everdeen. I’m her aunt. I should be listed as her primary emergency contact.” She swallows and squeezes her eyes shut briefly. When she opens them, they plead with his. Peeta glances down at Ivy, and then raises his eyes to Katniss again. The guilt that was clouding those silver irises a moment ago has dissipated, replaced with anguish. He doesn’t know what the full story is here, but he didn’t miss Katniss’s usage of the past tense in referring to Ivy’s mother. So he honors her silent appeal not to ask questions.

“Okay, Ivy, you fell, and you landed on your arm? I bet that hurt,” Peeta says to the little girl, but his gaze stays fastens on Katniss. She gives him the faintest smile and mouths, “Thank you.”

~*~*~*~

An hour later, the orthopedist informs Peeta that Ivy Hawthorne is ready for his approval to be discharged. Not wanting to keep her and her aunt waiting any later than necessary, he sets down the X-ray he had been studying, and heads back to where Ivy is.

Standing outside the curtain, he hears quiet singing. He draws back the curtain and sees Katniss seated on the bed, with Ivy nestled in her lap. A bright pink cast safely cocoons the girl’s arm. Her blonde head rests on Katniss’s shoulder. Her eyes are closed, and her little body rises and falls with the deep breathing of sleep.

Katniss continues to sing, unaware of Peeta’s presence. He doesn’t recognize the tune she’s singing. It’s not a Christmas carol, at least not one he’s ever heard before, but he continues to listen, captivated by her voice. It’s soft and decidedly feminine, but there’s raspy undercurrent to it that gives him chills. It’s like the first sip of a rich, smoky bourbon.

Gingerly, he tiptoes towards the bed and stands before her for several more minutes, until Katniss finally lifts her eyes. She immediately stops singing. Peeta smiles and nods towards Ivy.

“Someone is worn out,” he whispers. Katniss’s lips twitch into a chagrinned smile.

“I’m sure the second we get home she’ll be wide awake and it’ll take forever to get her into bed. She was already amped up about Santa Claus before this.” She tips her head and gestures with her chin towards Ivy’s arm.

“Warm milk. With a little bit of cinnamon,” he suggests.

“Really?” Her eyes round. “Cinnamon? That really works?” Disbelief clouds her words. He shrugs sheepishly.

“I have no idea. No kids. And I’ve never had much trouble sleeping. I’m usually asleep the minute my head hits the pillow. But I’ve heard from a friend with a toddler that it does the trick.” He waits for her to say something—anything—in response, but she doesn’t. Her gaze is back on the sleeping toddler in her arms.

Watching her stare tenderly at her niece causes something unexpected to claw at Peeta’s chest and he’s overwhelmed by a fierce compulsion to want to keep her here, to get to know more about her. It’s been a long time since he felt this kind of instant attraction to a woman. Why couldn’t he have met her under different circumstances?

“Are we all done, doctor?”

Peeta startles from his thoughts and offers Katniss an apologetic smile.

“Yes, sorry. You are good to go as soon as you sign here—” He holds the clipboard at an angle, to allow her to sign without having to disturb Ivy, “and here.” He flips the sheet back to the second page and she scrawls her name across the line there, too. Normally a nurse would go over discharge papers and protocol with patients, but Peeta had taken it upon himself to grab Ivy’s. He needed to spend every possible minute in Katniss’s presence.

Once the release forms are complete, he review the plan for Ivy’s follow-up care, including how to manage any pain she has and when she’ll need to return to have the cast removed. Katniss listens attentively.

When he’s finished, she stands up slowly, her movements tentative so as not to jostle Ivy. A sigh parts the little girl’s lips and she stirs, but she remains asleep. God, she’s cute, Peeta thinks.

“Thank you, Dr. Mellark,” Katniss says softly. “For everything. I know what you did…” She falters. “I mean, I know we, ah, weren’t next, and ah…” Peeta waves a hand dismissively, sensing her discomfort with his hijacking of the queued patients.

“It was my pleasure,” he replies. “Little girls should be home on Christmas Eve. Waiting for Santa.” He echoes Katniss’s earlier words. “I hope he’s good to her.”

He doesn’t miss the forlorn expression that flits across Katniss’s face as she glances down at her sleeping niece.

“He can’t bring her what she wants most, but he’ll try,” she murmurs and moves towards the open curtain. Just before she steps out into the hall, she pauses and turns to face Peeta.

“Merry Christmas,” she adds.

“Merry Christmas,” he concurs. With a faint smile, she steps around the curtain. It rustles in her wake and resettles. Peeta exhales and slumps against the wall, regret washing through him, followed by a stronger wave of sadness at seeing Katniss go. If it hadn’t been for Ivy, he might have concocted some kind of delay to keep Katniss here longer, found some excuse to pry more information out of her. Like if she’s single. A surge of adrenaline spikes in his blood. He can’t let her go this easily.

He bolts out into the corridor, scanning the bustling hallway for any sign of Katniss and Ivy, but they’ve vanished. Disappointed, his shoulders slump as he trudges towards the nurses’ station to hand off Ivy’s file.

It’s probably best, a nagging little voice inside him taunts, and he reluctantly concedes that it probably is. As much as he’d love to finally shut his mother up and find a woman that he’d want to spend more than a night with, it’s not fair to subject one to the kind of schedule he has to keep. New doctors are low-man-on-the-totem-pole. He’s had mostly graveyard shifts and he’s often on call. It’s his dream to have a pediatric practice, but he’s well aware that he’ll have to toil for a couple of years to get on track to make that dream a reality.

A few minutes later, en route to his next examination, Peeta spies Johanna, one of the triage nurses, coming out of the room Ivy had occupied. His eyes immediately narrow when his gaze lands on her left arm.

“Was that in there?” He motions towards the vacated room and then nods towards the stuffed cat Johanna has wedged under her armpit.

“What, the cat? Yeah. It must have fallen under the bed. I’ll take it to the station, in case someone comes back to claim it.”

Ivy’s cherubic little face flashes in Peeta’s mind. He remember how fiercely she had been clutching that cat, and how she had reluctantly agreed to put it down when it had been time for Delly, another one of the triage nurses, to take her for X-rays.

Peeta’s pulse quickens and he immediately thrusts his hand towards Johanna. “I’ll take it,” he says impulsively. She wrinkles her nose and cocks her head, her hazel eyes intensely scrutinizing him. Though they have a casual friendship, Johanna is far too insightful for her own good. Peeta doesn’t really need her questioning his motives for taking possession of the toy.

“The little girl it belongs to goes to preschool with Max. I’ll make sure he takes it to her after the holiday break.” Fuck, that lie flew off his tongue so easily he almost believes it himself. Johanna shrugs and tosses Peeta the cat.

“Suit yourself. One less thing to overflow the Lost and Found.” She strides past him and disappears into Triage 6. He stares down at the stuffed animal. His heart skips another beat and a slow smile tugs at his mouth.

~*~*~*~

Stifling another yawn, Peeta squints at the numbers above the garage. He’s definitely in the right place. He kills the engine and sits for a moment, glancing at the clock on the navigation system. It’s quarter after nine. Early, but not obscenely so. When his shift had ended at six am, he had driven home and fought the urge to crawl into bed; instead, he grabbed a quick shower and freshened up. True, part of him hadn’t wanted to see Katniss Everdeen again looking like the bedraggled, exhausted mess he was at the end of a rotation, and also true, he was going to have to clean up before he’s due at his parents’ house at one. But he also knew he couldn’t really have shown up at Katniss’s house at the crack of dawn on Christmas morning, even if he suspects Ivy likely had her up by then. He recalls, with a wistful smile, that Christmas morning was the one morning he and his brothers were always awake before his father. It was only a question of which Mellark brother was going to be the first to rouse the others. Him being the youngest, it was usually him, he admits with a wider grin.

He quietly exits his car, careful not to slam the door, and gingerly steps across the icy driveway. He pauses at the un-shoveled front walk, where a pristine blanket of snow blocks his path. “Shit,” he whispers, gritting his teeth as he takes the first step. His foot plunges into the deep drift, up to nearly his calf. He braces himself and takes a huge step, hoping to eat up the distance in a few long strides. Fortunately, it’s not a long front walk. He reaches the also un-shoveled front steps and carefully ascends them. He contemplates ringing the doorbell, but instead raps his knuckles against the door. His breath pipes out in white plumes and he rubs his palms together for warmth as he waits.

No one comes to the door, at least not immediately. Peeta lifts his fist again, but just before his knuckles can connect with the wood again, the front door opens a crack and he’s suddenly looking at Katniss. Those silver eyes round almost comically as recognition lights them.

“D-Doctor Mellark? Wh-what are you….”

“Hi. Merry Christmas,” he begins. “I thought Ivy would be missing this.” He smiles and holds up the stuffed cat.

Katniss stares at him, her lips parting faintly, and shock and confusion war on her pretty face. But then her grey eyes darken with what Peeta can only describe as restrained fury.

She opens the door fully and glares at him.

“You had Ivy’s cat?” she accuses.

“Uh…yeah…” he stammers, his own confusion welling. Why is she so angry? “My nephew…he has a bear. Otis. Can’t sleep without that thing. I thought if Ivy is anything like Max…well, she’d be missing this.” He holds the cat out to Katniss. She snatches it so violently that she stumbles backwards. Peeta is equally jarred, but his jolt is from the very brief brush of Katniss’s fingers against his when she had grabbed the toy.

But Katniss gives him no time to revel in the feeling.

“So this is why no one at the hospital had a goddamned clue what I was talking about when I called there looking for this cat an hour ago!” she spits.

Shit, Peeta thinks, an uneasy feeling clawing its way into his gut.

“Why the fuck—” He can’t help but notice her slight hesitation before she lobs the obscenity at him. “—would you take my niece’s cat? Is this something normal people do?” She’s shivering visibly as she rants, a clear consequence of stepping onto her front porch wearing nothing but green plaid pajama pants and a threadbare black Henley shirt.

“I….I…” He shakes his head. He’s not even sure how to defend his actions. He can’t very well tell her his ulterior motives in bringing the stuffed cat back to her niece. Not now. He definitely fucked this up.

“I was just trying to be nice. That I’d save you a trip on Christmas morning,” he finishes lamely.

Katniss’s nostrils flare and her jaw flexes. “Christmas morning,” she mutters, just barely audible over the clattering of her teeth. “Did it occur to you, Dr. Mellark, that I might be looking for Ivy’s cat and I might call the hospital looking for this cat?” She shakes the toy in his face. “And did it occur to you that, in spite of all the toys she had just opened, Ivy might be bawling and throwing a fit because Buttercup was missing?”

Buttercup, he has to assume, is the stuffed cat.

She pauses, as if waiting for him to defend himself, but all he can do is swallow against the lump crowding his throat.

So she continues, “They made me think I was crazy—but not until after they left me on hold for 20 minutes while I tried to calm a wailing toddler. And then they said there was no toy matching this description in the Lost and Found. And that’s because you had it!” Her eyes are a maelstrom now, but he notices that an edge of frustration has crept into her furious tone.

“And now Ivy doesn’t have it. So thank you. Thank you very much, Dr. Mellark. Merry Christmas.” And before Peeta can release the breath he’s been holding during her outburst and plead his case, she whirls around, her disheveled braid lancing through the air like a whip, and slams the door behind her. Stunned, Peeta can only stare at the wreath on the door as he processes what just happened.

What. The. Fuck.

Heart pounding, gut churning, Peeta retreats to his car. He takes a few minutes to absorb the shock of his encounter with Katniss, his mind reeling through the accusations she made. He never would have expected her to react like this. So much for any shot with Katniss Everdeen.

He finally gathers his composure and navigates out of her complex. As he drives, his mind continues replaying Katniss’s words over and over, and he finds one thing nags at him.

And now Ivy doesn’t have it.

Those words don’t make much sense to him. He just gave the stuffed animal back to Katniss. She can give it back to Ivy. She’ll have it now. In her wrath, Katniss just wasn’t being rational, he decides.

But her words continue to haunt him off and on for the rest of the day. Along with persistent images of Katniss that further torment him. She is never far from his conscious thoughts. As he sits down next to the fireplace in his parents’ house with a tumbler of scotch to exchange gifts with his brothers and his nephews, he finds himself wondering who Katniss is celebrating with. Ivy, obviously. But does she have other family?

By the time the Mellarks all settle around the table for dinner, he’s conjured up the notion that Katniss may not be married, but she surely has a devoted boyfriend who is showering her with gifts at this very moment. Her mood is infinitely better than what Peeta witnessed earlier. She’s probably dressed nice for him, and he’s sitting around her dining room table with Katniss and Ivy, like a makeshift family.

His mother’s irritation is palpable when she has to command his attention twice to try and draw him into the discussion centered on Rye’s upcoming wedding. Peeta murmurs the apology he knows she expects and feigns his dutiful brotherly interest for Rye’s benefit the remainder of the meal. But a dull ache has taken up residence in the center of his chest and he realizes just how badly he wants what his brothers have.

He just won’t be having it with Katniss Everdeen.

#everlark #the hunger games #everlark fanfiction #court81981

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olivia-anderson-fanfic · 4 years

Text

Satisfied, Part 40

First

~~~

Marinette didn’t know when exactly she ended up living at Wayne Manor full time, all that she knew was that it happened. Eventually, staying over to work with Tim, to spar with Damian, to talk to Jason and Dick, morphed into her never really going home. After all, it was always too late, or the bed was too soft to get up, or there was a dog asleep in her lap how dare you suggest she move.

But her routine didn’t change much at all. Their coffee was returned to them, so Tim and Marinette spent basically all day binge-drinking and working (with mandated breaks enforced by Jason and Dick). At night, well…

“Another boys night?” She said innocently, barely even looking up from what must have been the millionth flower she had embroidered.

Jason shrugged. “Sorry, Mari, you just wouldn’t want to come.”

Marinette rolled her eyes. Honestly, how had boys night been the best thing they could come up with? They’d been doing this for years. How did they even have secret identities at this point? Still, she nodded and smiled. “Sounds great. Have fun.”

“Try and get some sleep!” Called Dick over his shoulder.

“I won’t!” She yelled back, then went back to work. After a few minutes she stood up and brushed herself off. “Tikki, spots on.”

She grinned when she saw her outfit was finally back to normal. She’d kept the leather jacket, boots, and fighting gloves to hide the fact that she’d been weakened before, but now she’d added some tiny features to complete the look. Long, red ribbons tied her hair into her trademark ponytails, and she’d given herself a utility belt to match the rest of the family (also to hold snacks).

She hopped out the window and then made a large loop around the city to get to her and Damian’s meeting spot.

She rolled her eyes when she saw him. “Man, why’d you have to go for the utility belt first? I owe Bats one hour of sleep,” she whined.

He huffed softly. “Shut up! It’s small and easy to manage!”

She shook her head exasperatedly and pulled a bag of chips from one of her many pockets. “Mhmm.”

“You can’t judge me! You’re the one with streamers following behind you! That’s terrible for battle!”

“But great for aesthetic,” she said, grinning. “But you’re actually wrong. Pull on one.”

He gave her an incredulous look but did reach out to pull on one of the four trails of ribbon. It crumbled in his hand and, after a few moments, began to regenerate itself. “Uh….”

“Yep! It’s essentially streamers but even easier to break. I’m better at fashion than you, Kit.”

He sent her a glare. “Whatever. Let’s get on with patrols.”

‘Patrols’ was quickly derailed when they found a cute stray cat and started chasing it. Bruce would probably let Marinette have a pet if she asked, and it was so cute. She was about two seconds away from catching it when her receiver sprung to life.

She pouted and skid to a stop, bring a hand up to turn it on.

“Ladybug, you should come see this,” said Red Hood.

“Fine, location?”

He gave it to her and she turned off her comm.

“I have to go. Catch him for me?”

“Only if you agree to call him BatCat.”

She rolled her eyes. “I’ll agree to consider it.”

Damian grinned at her and disappeared in search of the cat.

After a bit she managed to find her way to where Red Hood sat on a rooftop. “Hey,” she said casually, dropping down next to him.

“Mari,” he greeted, reaching out to poke her cheek.

“So, is there actually something or did you just want to see me?” She teased, smiling.

He didn’t smile back, nodding to a billboard nearby.

Her eyes found their way to it and she cringed. It had been completely defaced, an uneven coating of black spray-paint making whatever it was originally advertising worthless, the words ‘Come home NightMare <3’ where displayed proudly across it in an acidic green.

She balled her fists. She didn’t want to go back yet, but the Wayne Gala was only a week and a half away at this point. They’d obviously need her there to go over the plan.

The therapy sessions were helping, but the idea of getting back in that suit again… even seeing Kaalki made her feel a little sick to her stomach.

She steeled herself. “Right, I’ll go tomorrow.”

“You don’t have to, y’know.”

She bit the inside of her cheek. Technically, he was right. She could technically just opt not to go and they could hope that the security the Waynes had put in place would be enough. But, on a far more real level, he couldn’t be more wrong. She knew that they were getting in no matter how many people they had to fight against them because, ultimately, Batman wouldn’t have them killed and the Rogues had no such reservations.

Marinette pressed a kiss to his cheek. “It’ll be okay.”

She sat on the billboard, swinging her legs back and forth as she rested her head back against the paint. This was fine, she told herself. She wasn’t going to be killing anyone anymore. All the Rogues knew she wouldn’t, if the fact that they’d allowed her to disappear for weeks was any indication.

She wasn’t supposed to kill anyone last time, a pessimistic voice said.

She was glad to see the familiar uniforms below and hopped down, waving at them. “Hey, boys, been a while!”

They didn’t return her smile. She felt a needle prick her neck and next thing she knew she was in a warehouse.

Harley leaned into view, her blue eyes scrutinizing her. “Hey, darlin’, how you feeling?”

“Could be better,” Marinette mumbled.

She felt Harley and Ivy pull her into a hug and numbly returned it, closing her eyes. It only lasted for a few seconds, though, before Harley was quiet literally pulled away. Poison Ivy quickly scampered off into the corner.

She looked up to see Joker and cringed internally. She’d been hoping to never see him again, but she supposed she never had been lucky.

“Hello,” she said carefully, giving a weak grin.

“Hi!” He said, giving a wave and of course he was the one to return her smile. “We have some work to do.”

Marinette bit the inside of her cheek. “We?”

“Yup! Us three are going to Wayne Manor!”

She frowned confusedly and glanced around at everyone else. She couldn’t gauge anything from their faces, but Harley didn’t seem upset so she hoped this meant that she wasn’t about to be killed. She nodded hesitantly.

“Right. I’ll have to get inside the building and find a room that won’t change.”

Joker nodded and offered her a hand up. “You know where Wayne Manor is?”

She stared at his hand and swallowed thickly before taking it. She winced when she realized how warm it was. She’d been expecting something cold and clammy, like a corpse, but this was somehow worse. Knowing he was alive and just like that made her stomach turn.

She opened a portal to outside Wayne Manor.

“I don’t know how we’re supposed to get past the cameras.”

“Like this,” he chirped, pointing his gun at the nearest one and shooting it out.

Marinette clenched her fists. “Yeah, that’s one way of doing it,” she mumbled. She opened a portal to get inside the fence and cringed as another gunshot rang out. He was shooting out every camera, which was a good thing from a ‘breaking in’ standpoint but bad from a ‘protecting the Waynes’ standpoint.

They slipped through the house, undisturbed. Of course it was undisturbed, there was no one here --.

Except there was. And she looked right into the face of Tim.

Her eyes widened and she looked at Joker and Harley, hoping against hope that they would somehow miss him. He was short, this could work –.

But she never was lucky. And Joker had his gun out.

She jumped in front of Tim, pushing him to hide behind her.

Wow, she really wished she could stop having guns pointed at her. It really hadn’t gone well for her since she’d come to Gotham. Last time Robin had been shot, the time before that she’d been.

She wasn’t anxious to see what would happen if she got shot this time, she had no clue how Joker bullets would work with her costume. Would she not be affected? She hoped so, but what would happen if she was? This was a chemical thing, not just the usual brute force. Would the suit be useless against it? Would it keep her alive, choking on her own blood until the chemicals were out of her system? Which would be worse?

And she knew he would shoot her.

Because, ultimately, she was expendable. All the Rogues were to Joker. Sure, it would be a pain to plan around it, but they could always mow down security guards and get inside that way.

She just needed to reason with him. Would he listen to reason? She hoped so.

She felt hands grip the back of her dress and looked back at Tim. He was definitely playing up whatever fear he had, because he looked terrified. Good, at least they would never expect him to be a vigilante.

Not that it would matter if Joker shot them.

“What’s wrong, NightMare? You look like you’ve just had a bad dream.”

She resisted the urge to gag. She’d heard of how bad his jokes were, but really? He was worse than Chat Noir and – WAIT DON’T LOAD THE BARREL LIKE THAT.

She swallowed thickly, a hand reaching back to make sure Tim didn’t try and do something stupid like push her out of the way.

“Joker, we can’t shoot him,” she tried.

“I told you she would be a liability, Harls,” Joker said. “She just doesn’t have the balls to kill people.”

Harley winced beside him, her eyes falling to the floor.

“But it’s not even that!” She said. Except it was. But she could work around it. Reason. She needed a reason. “Listen to me! If we kill him then the Gala probably wouldn’t happen. Bruce loves his kids, right? If he ended up dead, then he would probably cancel. We can’t kill him!”

Joker stared her down. He wasn’t smiling behind (the mask? his face?) anymore, his lips set in a grim line. This was almost worse. She almost missed the smiling, at least then she had an idea of what was going through his head.

And then he lowered his gun.

She let herself relax a little. They continued through the house with Tim at their side. She made sure to stand between him and the Rogues. Just in case.

After she had pretended to memorize every room in the house (because, really, she knew most of it by heart thanks to the prank war), she opened a portal for them.

Joker stepped through and Harley stopped her before she could follow. “Puddin’, we’re just going to have a little chat, okay?”

“Fine!”

Marinette tensed. The portal closed and they were cast into silence. She hadn’t made it too obvious she was a hero, right? After all, it could just be brushed off as her hating the idea of killing…

Right?

Harley waved Tim off and she glanced back at him. He was still holding onto the sleeve of her dress. She gave him a small smile. “Hey, it’s fine. Go back to work, alright?”

He gave her a slightly skeptical look, but then nodded. “Thank you.”

“Of course.”

She watched him leave and then turned to Harley. Was she suspicious? Did Marinette give anything away accidentally? Was this it?

“So, how do you know Tim?”

Marinette tensed. “I’m sorry?”

“You know him. How?”

She bit the inside of her cheek. What could she say? She couldn’t call him her friend, that would make it to obvious who she was. But she couldn’t act like she didn’t know him at all, that would make Harley suspicious…

“I guess I could call it…” She took a deep breath to steel herself. Her face reddened. God, he was going to hear this. “A celebrity crush?”

Harley squealed. “That’s so cute! Oh, and you saved his life? C’mon! He owes you a date!”

Damn it, Joker should have shot her. It would have been less excruciating than this. She buried her face in her hands. “I’d prefer… not doing that.”

The woman wasn’t listening, though. “Oh, you two would be so cute together! Your kids would be --!” Marinette decided that she was not going to pay attention to this, glaring at the ground as they walked through the mansion.

She was never going to live this down.

~~~

SORRY FOR THE LATE UPDATE THERE WAS A HURRICANE

Taglist

@comet-kun @thatonecroc @trippingovermyfeet @swiftie-miraculer13 @nickristus-dreamer @moongoddesskiana @i-am-ironic @indecisive-mess-named-me @thebooki3h @insane-fangirl-of-everything @deepestobservationwombat @theymakeupfairies @fatimaabbasrizvi @clumsy-owl-4178 @fanofalittletoomuch @iamablinkmarvelarmy @nathleigh @lilkymilky @silvergold-swirl @dino-lovingreen-angel @thestressmademedoit @kissa-chan @ladybug-182 @alysrose-starchild @t1dwarrior-of-earth @spyofthenightcourt @rowanrouge @nik-nak-3 @momothefemur @aestheticnpoetic @labschaos @our-preciousss @mochinek0 @eliza-bich @mythogaychic @severelyenchantedwonderland @sashakoi @smolplantmum @bluesimani @tropestropestropes @kitsunebell @keepingupwiththemalfoys @sassakitty @2confused-2doanything @too0bsessedformyowngood @all-mights-asscheeks @demonicbusiness @meg-an-ace @fantasiame @qualitypeacepainter @multplelifes @kokotaru

#timinette #timari #marinette dupain cheng #ladybug #red robin #tim drake #satisfied #maribat

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pandajaye · 3 years

Text

Todoroki Family Ties (Parts 5-6)

Characters: Enji Todoroki, Stepmom!OC!Ivy (Ivy is black btw), Child!Shoto Todoroki, Teen!Touya Todoroki

Warnings: mention of harsh discipline,

Part 5

Enji explained everything. The whole entire full length truth. He explained what happened to Rei. What she did to Shoto’s eye. What he did to Touya. It flipped her reality completely.

“Thank you for letting me open up about all this. It’s not all easy to admit to. I’m so sorry for not telling you the truth.”

She felt kind of bad for the guy. But she really felt bad for Rei. The guilt she must have in her soul for what she did. For what he pushed her to do. Would it happen to her too? Whatever. She didn’t want to think about that anymore right now. Instead, she snuggled close to him again.

“Let’s just talk about it later. Today was kind of wild wasn’t it? I’m lucky that Shoto called you when he did. I probably would’ve been ashes if he hadn’t done something.”

Her snuggles were met with some of his own. Kisses even. He really was sweet when he wanted to be.

“It was and you’re absolutely right. Because of him, you’re still in my arms. He’s a good kid. Still learning to be tough, of course. Maybe I’ll give him a break tomorrow too and just train with Touya. You and Shoto could just spend some time together.”

“That sounds like a lot of fun. I think he’d really like that. Good idea.”

The next day, Shoto and stepmama Ivy, got to have fun and relax.

They practiced some yoga:

“Okay, Shoto. Let’s try downward dog.” *stretches* “Now you try.”

Shoto attempts the pose successfully and flawlessly.

“Did I do it? I think I did it!!”

“You did! You got it! Good job, Sho! Now, try to keep your balance and reach out with your left arm and lift your right leg. Like this.”

She moves to position and takes a deep breath, coming out of position to observe Shoto. He struggles a bit, but completes the goal and sits back down.

“Awesome! Our next pose is gonna be a little harder. Think you’re up for it?”

“Yeah! I’m ready for anything!”

“Good attitude! So, I know your dad has this idea that being a hero means being all hard and tough. But you have to learn how to be flexible and balanced. You must relax and focus so that you can attack efficiently. Always keep in mind that you have to be able to adapt to successfully strategize and defeat your opponent.”

While she was talking, she bent into the side crow post with grace and ease, balancing on nothing but her hands.

“I can do it! Watch me!”

Shoto attempted the same pose but struggled to hold himself up, falling back down.

“Dang it! I’ll try again.”

He tried again. The same result but he fell down a little quicker.

“Hey, maybe it’s time to take a brea-“

“NO!! I can do it!”

Another attempt and another fall. She could tell he was getting tired but he was really determined.

“Okay. Just remember: relax, focus, and breathe. You got this.”

He tried again. And slipped again, starting to get a little upset. Not a little. A good bit actually. Shoto stood up and stomped around.

“NOOO! NO NO NO NO!”

Ivy sat in front of him, reaching her hands out.

“Hey, Shoto. It’s okay! Calm down. Just breathe.”

He should really take her advice. He was starting to get as red as his own hair. There were tears in his eyes and rolling down his cheeks.

“I promise I’ll get it, I promise! I’ll work harder and get stronger and-“

“Shoto Todoroki. Take a seat and breathe. Hold my hands.”

Shoto listened and sat down in front of her, putting his little hands in hers. His left hand was really warm but his right hand was cool. Must be his quirk.

“Breathe with me. Deep breath in.”

They inhaled together.

“Deep breath out.”

They exhaled together.

“Now. Why do you feel so strongly about this? It’s literally just yoga. It’s supposed to be fun.”

He wiped his eyes but thinking about why he was getting so frustrated made him cry more.

“And.... I’m supposed to be number one. I’m not s-supposed to fail. Failure is bad. Bad is weakness. Weakness is punishable.”

Ivy didn’t hesitate to pull Shoto into her lap and hug him tight. Every sniffle made her heart sad.

“Sho.... It’s okay. You’re not training with your dad. We’re having a fun day off together. Me and you. You’re safe with me. Life is going to be challenging. You’re not always going to achieve your goal right away. I didn’t come out the wound bending like a pretzel, honey. It took me a long time to master a move like that. You’re only seven years old, you’re not expected to be able to hold up your own body weight. But it also doesn’t mean that you’re not strong. We’ll work on it another day if you’re still determined. Let’s rest your arms and have a snack and relax.”

Shoto wiped his face again and stood up.

“Can we cuddle and watch a movie too?”

“It’s your day off. We can do whatever we want. If that’s what you wanna do, let’s do it!”

When he got up she crouched to wipe his face and kiss his forehead, standing up and holding his hand. After an arm massage, a snack, and a movie, cuddle included, he felt a lot better. They both did. The movie finished just in time for Touya and Enji to return. That’s when Ivy discovered Shoto had fallen asleep. She let him sleep for a little longer while she made dinner.

“What did you guys do while Touya and I were out?”

She shrugged.

“Nothing much. Just some yoga. But.... we need to talk about his emotional health. He got really upset when he couldn’t do this one pose. I don’t know. Does the phrase ‘Weakness is punishable’ sound familiar to you?”

Enji looked from the floor to the wall. He really tried to pretend he didn’t hear what she just said.

“Touya did good today. Not great. Just good.”

“Enji. He’s seven. You can’t keep pushing him so hard. It’s gonna backfire on you. It probably already has with Touya.”

“He’s fine, Ivy. It’s what he needs to push himself.”

“Why does he need to push himself? The only pushing he should be dealing with is on a swing.”

“What did I tell you about trying to tell me what my kids need?!”

The two froze when Shoto shuffled. Maybe if Mr. Hellfire didn’t raise his voice he wouldn’t have woken up. He yawned before rubbing the sleep away and looking at them.

“Is dinner ready yet?”

She rolled her eyes at Enji and gave him a warm smile.

“Almost, Sho. Can you go ahead and get your brother and wash your hands please?”

“Yeah. I got it.”

Shoto slid off the couch and headed to Touya’s room, sort of stumbling from still being a little tired. Back in the kitchen, Ivy glared at Enji, her voice lowered to a whisper.

“We WILL talk about this later.”

“Fine with me, urchin.”

“Whatever, flaming bookshelf.”

Sometimes people do outta pocket shit. People like Enji. Who for some reason thought it was hot for her to call him a flaming bookshelf and smacked her ass and walked off. She gasped and grabbed a wooden spoon and threw it at the back of his head, trying not to laugh.

“BOOOYYYY IF YOU DON-”

Part 6

The incident with Touya was three days ago. Enji and Ivy continued to argue about how they should handle the situation before coming to the conclusion that they’d just talk to him. For a good 20 minutes, he sat on one side of the living room and they sat across from him. Enji and Touya had a glaring contest and Ivy just tried to smile so he wouldn’t have to feel like he was in big trouble, not that he broke eye contact with Enji to even notice her anyways.

Finally, Ivy broke the awkward silence.

“Sooooo.... Touya. Your father and I just wanted to talk to you about the other d-“

“Apologize.”

“No.”

This is where the trouble starts. Something is always going to go wrong when someone interrupts someone else. Especially if there’s two people that butt heads constantly.

“Hun, I got this. So. Touya. Is there anything that you want to say about what happened? Would you like to explain what you were feeling?”

Since she was being so nice about it, he decided to answer her. He rolled his eyes and adjusted himself before speaking.

“Listen. I’m sure you’re a nice person, but to be honest.... I think you’re weak, I think you’re sensitive, and I think you’re useless. I FEEL like you think you can replace my mom but you don’t even have a quirk! You’re literally nothing but some wench off the street looking for home, stray.”

“ALRIGHT THAT’S IT! YOU NEED TO LEARN SOME RESPECT, INGRATE!!“

“YOU AND ME OLD MAN, LET’S GO!!”

They were about to hurt each other but Ivy interfered before any damage was done.

“Enji, just go check on Shoto! I’LL talk to him. Alone.”

Enji growled before stomping off to the door to check on his youngest playing outside, while Touya sat back down with a huff. Now it was just the two of them.

“Touya.... I know this isn’t just about me or your mom not being here. I know how hard he pushes you. I know what your dad does to push you, and past your limits at that. You’re still a kid. A teenager. Life is already so hard for you. Psychologically especially. You’re growing up. Going through puberty. Liking people more than in just a friendly way. Reading magazines-“

“Oh god, make it stop, MAKE IT STOP!”

She did stop, since she was only kidding, and laughed at his reaction.

“I’m just messing with you, kid. But seriously. I know it’s hard and I see the resentment in your face. I also see the stress you’re giving yourself. I know that that pain and frustration you projected onto me the other day, was a little bit cause, y’know, I’m not Rei. And I know that in that aspect, I can’t change anything. *sigh* But I still want to do my best to protect you guys. Because I really do care about you. I am so proud of you and the strength and determination that you show. I don’t know if your father ever acknowledges it, but this is me acknowledging it. Good job, Touya. You’re my number one hero.”

At first, he tried to sit there and pretend like he hadn’t heard a single word she had said. He was almost convincing until the ends of his mouth quivered. Until he wiped his face with his forearm. Until he got up and walked over to her and couldn’t look her in the eyes. Just stood in front of her. It wasn’t for nothing. She knew what was happening. He needed to be held, so that’s what she did. She embraced him with open arms and a squeeze to reassure him that he was safe with her. That she would do anything to protect him. That he was worthy and more than just a masterpiece.... that he was someone that was loved obviously instead of just the absence of negative moments.

She could feel him shaking when he cried. He needed this, he was positive-touch starved. Jesus.

“I’m r-really s-sorry.... for what happened.... for everything I said....”

Ivy rubbed his back before pulling back to look at him and wipe his face.

“I forgive you. More importantly. Did you like the dinner I put out in front of your door that night?”

“Hm? Oh, yeah. It was great-“

“SCORE ONE FOR STEPMAMA!! WOOHOO!! Sorry, I love cooking. I also love you.”

“Back at ya.”

He smiled and headed to his room. Ivy took a deep breath, feeling accomplished. At least.... before Enji ran back inside in panic and looking upset. He’d been running around, there was sweat on his face.

“SHOTO’S GONE!!”

“....W-What?”

#todoroki family ties #bnha au #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #endeavor #enji #dabi #touya #shoto #todoroki #endeavor x black!reader #endeavor x reader #enji x black!reader #enji x reader #enji todoroki #touya todoroki #shoto todoroki #bnha #mha

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lupinlongbottom · 4 years

Text

Burning Bridges pt. 4

Neville Longbottom x Reader

Summary: The halfway mark of the school year had finally come, a milestone in (Y/N)’s journey as a Hogwarts Professor. Winter break was rather uneventful, but at least the joyous idea of a dear friend’s wedding could help them out, right?

Word Count: 4.1k

Warnings: Swearing, just a bit

A/N: AH! Yeah. That’s all I gotta say about this chapter. Wow. Neville and (Y/N) are dumb dumbs, huh?

Part 1 ... Part 2 ... Part 3 ... Part 5 ... Part 6 ... Part 7

Snow had finally touched the ground, blanketing the castle in pure white brilliance. Christmas had come and went, winter break finally had come to an end. Students were running around like mad, trying to finish their assignments, papers and the like that were due for their return.

Neville sat in the greenhouse, opting to stay at the castle for the holidays, only leaving a few times to meet with his grandmother and visit his parents. A yearly tradition. He still had to take care of his plants. He hadn’t seen (Y/N) in the few weeks of break, knowing she must’ve gone to visit her mum in Bristol or the like.

“Come on,” Neville purred, his dragon-hide gloves running against the leaves of a moving plant. “I know you’re angry, but please just work with me here,” he sighed, seemingly giving up on the plant.

“Neville?” a voice called from behind the glass of the greenhouse. He looked up, a window had been open. He saw her, (Y/N), standing in the open window. “Nev!” her face twisted into a grin, rushing away from the window and running through the door.

“(Y/N),” Neville smiled, watching the young professor enter his workspace. “Good to see you.”

“It’s good to see you too,” she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, the hair completely down, no bow in sight. “Venomous Tentacula,” she stopped, hesitant to get closer to Neville or the plant.

“You remember your plants,” Neville said, adjusting his gloves.

“I had a good tutor,” said (Y/N), sitting on an empty patch of countertop, eyeing the plant carefully.

“You’re bright enough, I’m sure you could’ve gotten it without my help,” said Neville, recalling the various hours he had spent with (Y/N) studying for their N.E.W.T-level Herbology class. Madam Pince grew rather annoyed with their idle chatter in the library, usually not pertaining to Herbology.

“There were times on the road that I could’ve used your help,” (Y/N) shrugged. “One time, it took me the better part of an hour to tell the difference between normal ivy and poison ivy.”

“How did you say you landed your last job?” Neville teased, turning back to his tentacula, carefully moving branches. “Seems like it was more suited for a herbologist.”

“At times, sure,” (Y/N) admitted. “I lied in the interview about my herbology skills, you know better than anyone that everything I touch dies,” she laughed, fingers swirling in the excess dirt. “But, I was so desperate to work for such an accomplished potioneer I would’ve done much worse to get the job.”

“You gathered potion ingredients, right?” he asked, waiting for a response. (Y/N) rarely talked about her pervious job before working at Hogwarts.

“Yeah,” she hummed. “I enjoyed it once I got the hang of it, gathering odd plants, finding rare creatures,” (Y/N) sighed blissfully. “Traveling the world just to find the one ingredient that no witch or wizard had ever thought to use in a potion before,” her eyes lit up like the stars, full of wonder.

“Did you? Find that one ingredient?”

She shook her head, smiling sadly. “No, but I got to travel and be on my own for months at a time. It was terribly therapeutic.”

“Wasn’t it lonely?” Neville asked, trimming excess leafs off of the plant. “Being alone for that time?”

“Of course, I’m not an animal,” (Y/N) said, swinging her legs back and forth like a child. “I had Edgar, though. He’s been by my side since fourth year, he’s the person who knows me best.”

“He’s an owl,” Neville stated, giving (Y/N) a pointed look.

“I’m convinced he’s my soulmate,” (Y/N) quipped, pursing her lips gently. “He knows just how to cheer me up when I’m down.”

“Send me an invite when the two of you get married,” Neville laughed, decidedly finished with the plant. “Speaking of…” he paused. “I know you’re planning on going to Harry and Ginny’s wedding, I-I am too, so I was wondering—”

“Oh right! Gin and Harry’s wedding!” (Y/N) ran a hand through her hair, a habit she recently picked up. “I nearly forgot!”

Neville felt relieved to hear her slip of the mind. Why did he feel so relieved? “It’s next week,” he laughed.

“Damn, I knew I was forgetting something all break. I told my mum about this nagging feeling I had in the back of my mind when I was visiting her, but she said it was just ‘professor brain’, whatever that is,” she chuckled. “Lance tried to convince me that she was right, but I disagree.”

“Lance?”

“Oh!” (Y/N) looked up at Neville. “I totally forgot to tell you! I listened to your advice.”

“Advice?”

“Yeah, when we had tea for the first time? You told me ask out Professor Knight,” (Y/N) smirked. “We’ve been seeing each other more over break.”

“Oh,” Neville mumbled, carefully prying his gloves off.

“He’s rather sweet, a charming guy. I thought he’d be a right prick,” (Y/N) shrugged. “He’s terribly interesting to talk to, about muggle things and teaching. He’s shown me a lot of the castle that even in seven years of schooling I couldn’t have seen.”

“So you’re happy?”

“Mostly,” (Y/N) smiled. “I don’t know how much longer we’re going to be seeing each other, though. He’s a bit full of himself, but it’s been a bit of cheeky fun for the break.”

“I’m assuming he’s going with you to the wedding?” Neville tensed himself, preparing for a blow he’d have to take time to recover from.

“Yeah,” (Y/N) nodded, rolling her eyes. “ I invited him only because I didn’t want to show up stag. He’s been fun and all, I just don’t know how interested in me he is. If the wedding wasn’t next week, I would’ve cancelled my date,” she shrugged. “But, Ginny said she can’t wait to meet the man with the ridiculous name I’ve told her about.”

“Yeah, that would reflect badly on your end,” Neville mumbled, gathering the spare greenery to his right, ignoring practically everything (Y/N) just shared. “Did you need some tentacula leaves? This one got a bit overgrown and I know how expensive and sought after they can be.”

“Get out!” (Y/N) grinned, pulling a spare vial from her boot. “Of course! I only ever had them once or twice before, I’m petrified to get any closer to those plants ever since sixth year.”

“Yeah,” Neville hummed, recalling their lesson on the venomous plant years ago. (Y/N) had nearly had a trip to the hospital wing that day, if not for Neville reigning the plant in. “You just keep an extra vial on you at all times?” he asked, pointing to the boot.

“Slughorn said any good potioneer kept an extra vial or two on them for moments like these,” she smiled, carefully placing the small leaves into the container. “I enchanted my boots for my last job so I could keep my bag light,” she reached down, fishing in her right boot, pulling out her wand, waving it lightly as if to prove a point. “It’s also great for keeping my snacks away from Edgar.”

“Always the clever witch,” Neville smiled, watching (Y/N) shove the bottle back in her boot, her hair falling into her face. “Say, where’s your ribbon? It’s weird to see you without one.”

“Oh,” (Y/N)’s hand flew to her hair, suddenly embarrassed. “Lance told me he liked my hair better when it was down, so I’ve been trying it out.”

“Are you sure it isn’t because you both had the same hairstyle?” Neville joked, recalling the terribly long hair that Professor Knight possessed.

“Shove it,” (Y/N) laughed, pushing Neville slightly. “I wouldn’t put it past him, though. He’s terribly vain.”

“If it’s any consolation, I liked the ribbons,” Neville admitted, glancing down at the wooden floorboards. “Could see your face better.”

“I like the ribbons too,” (Y/N) said, feeling a faint heat trace her cheeks. “Say, want to see what else I keep in my boots?” (Y/N) quickly changing the subject. “I’ll keep my stinky socks away from your face… mostly.”

“Charming,” He agreed, watching (Y/N) struggle with her laces. As she focused intently on her brown boot, Neville noted the pink scrap of fabric he had left next to the tentacula plant. Quickly shoving it in his pocket, he coughed. “Go on, let’s see.”

Vibrant reds and golds streaked from the ceilings, Gryffindor colors. Entirely Harry’s idea. The reception hall was bustling with the quaint familiarities of old friends, some who hadn’t seen each other after the war was said and done. Half of the hall had red hair, the obvious mark of the Weasley family.

“I’m glad you made it, even though a little bird told me you had nearly forgotten,” Ginny laughed, elbowing (Y/N) in the arm. She looked stunning in an off-white wedding gown, a perfect dress for a perfect day. The ceremony had gone off without a hitch, minus a few rogue spells to deter the journalists from sneaking in.

“Longbottom told you?” (Y/N) groaned, pulling a face. “Of course he did.”

“Relax, (L/N),” Ginny laughed, carefully holding her champagne glass, afraid to spill. “He was only teasing you. It’s good to hear you two are back in each other’s good graces.”

“It wasn’t easy,” (Y/N) shrugged, recalling her sour attitude towards the Gryffindor, regretting it immensely. “But I’m glad we reconnected. I missed him,” her gaze met the sight of two little girls, both dressed in dark red dresses, playing with one another. “Your nieces are adorable.”

“Aren’t they?” Ginny turned to look at the girls, one blonde and one redheaded. “They’re both angels, thankfully they haven’t got much of my brother’s looks. I reckon it’s all from their wives,” she laughed. “Victoire is practically a Phlegm clone, blonde hair and all. Kayda has most of Charlie’s traits, beautiful brown eyes, but her face is like her mum’s.”

“She’s also terribly dragon-obsessed, like her dad,” Harry said, pulling an arm around his wife. He kissed her temple lightly. “She’s my favorite of the nieces, always asking the difficult questions, not a care in the world.”

“Harry!” Ginny slapped his chest, watching his smirk dwindle.

“Haven’t changed, have you Potter?” (Y/N) grinned, mouthing a ‘hello’ to the groom. He mouthed back, rubbing circles to Ginny’s shoulder.

“So this is Harry Potter,” said Lance, entering the conversation, holding two glasses of champagne. He pressed a peck to (Y/N)’s cheek, handing her a flute. “For my princess of potions.”

(Y/N) grimaced at the nickname, accepting the kiss and the drink. “Lance, I don’t think you’ve met the happy couple. This is Harry and Ginny Potter,” The couple swelled at the mention of their married name. “Gin, Harry, this is—”

“Lancelot Knight, Professor of Muggle Studies at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry,” he bowed, the purple of his cape nearly hitting (Y/N) in the face. “Congratulations on your happiest of days.”

“Thank you, Lancelot,” Ginny forced a smile, sending a short look of confusion to (Y/N), almost disapprovingly. “We have some photos we need to go take,” Ginny pulled Harry to the side. “Enjoy the food and drinks. Try to find me later, (Y/N),” The couple walked off, murmuring rapidly between one another.

“He seemed unlike anything I’ve read about him,” Lance huffed, drowning his words in the champagne. “You’re not going to drink, darling?”

(Y/N) shook her head. “No,” she handed him the glass, watching him down it in two gulps. She noticed a nearly empty table with only one guest sitting. His hair was gelled back, nearly perfect. Too much gel. “I might go and have a seat, I’m feeling a little woozy.”

“While you waste your night,” Lance pulled his robe back, opening his body up to the crowd before him. “It’s time for me to network. When else can I get all of these famous witches and wizards in one place?”

(Y/N) rolled her eyes, finding herself at the aforementioned empty table. “Anyone sitting here?”

Neville looked up, he was intently focusing on the silverware before him. “No, I guess not,” he smiled, allowing (Y/N) to sit. “Your boyfriend seems to be having a good time, chatting up all our friends.”

“He’s getting on my last nerve,” (Y/N) groaned, holding her head in her hands. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think he was just here to boast about himself to strangers with more distinguished accomplishments,” another groan. “He’s also not my boyfriend.”

“No? You seemed rather close,” Neville shrugged, watching the long haired wizard try to woo Molly Weasley. She turned away. “Trouble in paradise?”

“I had my suspicions before, but today is the nail in the coffin. I can’t believe I thought it was a good idea to bring him to the wedding.”

“You’re going to break up with him?”

“Can’t break up with someone if you never were together in the first place,” (Y/N) pointed. “But, yeah. I’ve been thinking about it.”

“Did you want to talk about it?” Neville asked, offering to listen.

“Not really,” (Y/N) admitted, letting her head rise. “But I would fancy a walk if you wanted to get some air?”

“Please,” Neville laughed. “I love Harry and Ginny, but parties like this are just not my style.”

“Tell me about it,” (Y/N) sighed, rising from her seat. Neville followed suit, exiting the banquet hall. “I would rather be cooped up in my office, alone with my cauldron. Not a care in the world.”

“You do tend to do that a bit,” Neville said, putting his hands in his pockets. “Are you working on anything new?” The courtyard outside of the banquet hall had a fresh dusting of snow, allowing the two to leave footprints behind.

“Still working on that batch of Felix Felicis,” she shrugged. “It’s probably the most complicated potion I’ve brewed. So fickle, needs constant attention,” (Y/N) kicked a small pebble. “I’ve also been working on my own potions, trying to make a name for myself as a potioneer, but I can’t quite figure any of it out.”

“Come on,” Neville scoffed. “You’ll be able to do it, I know you can,” he brushed the dusting of snow off of the bench, allowing for the two to sit. “Besides, even if you don’t, being Potions Master at Hogwarts is like, the highest honor a potioneer can have, yeah?”

“I suppose,” (Y/N) said, smoothing her dress skirt, ignoring the flush rising to her face. “It’s just so terribly difficult to make a name for myself when my predecessors are so… amazing. Horace Slughorn? Severus Snape?”

“Give it time,” Neville put a hand to her shoulder. “You need to remember that most potioneers didn’t have the pleasure to be taught by one of them, let alone both of them. You’re brighter than you know.”

“Wow,” (Y/N) sat, stunned by her friend’s words. “I guess I never thought about it like that.”

“Besides, Slughorn made you a part of the Slug Club sixth year, an elite gathering of the brightest and best students at Hogwarts,” he laughed. “The same club that hosted Harry Potter, the famed wizard.”

“He was collecting future favors, Nev,” (Y/N) smiled, recalling the club’s meetings. Lavish dinners, exquisite music. “He also kicked you out of the club for ‘not meeting his expectations’, which is hogwash,” she breathed deeply, her breath dancing away from her lips. “He just didn’t see what really matters.”

“You think?” Neville turned to look at (Y/N), now staring up at the stars. She nodded.

“Slughorn is terribly superficial, not really looking past the surface traits,” (Y/N) sat on her hands, trying to warm them up. “You know, he nearly threw a hissy-fit when I invited you to his Christmas party.”

“He did?” Neville asked, focusing on the constellations above them.

“I mean, don’t get me wrong, I would’ve loved to see you in that servers uniform,” (Y/N) laughed unashamed. “All distinguished and whatnot. Slughorn practically ignored me for almost two weeks after the party, like he disowned me as a student.”

“I remember that,” Neville recalled. “Whenever you had your hand up, he called on Hermione or Harry instead, even if they didn’t have the slightest clue on the answer. I never knew it was because of that…”

“It happens,” (Y/N) ran a hand through her hair, annoyed by the way it was falling. “I swear, I should’ve brought an extra ribbon…”

“Maybe you can steal one from Lancelot,” Neville laughed, turning his attention over to the witch to his right. He coughed. “But, if you need one…” he dug into his pocket, fingers finding the silky patch of fabric he had been searching for.

(Y/N) glanced down, eyes finding the pink ribbon between his fingers. It wasn’t clean, dirt dusting the torn edges. It brought a sense of familiarity, almost as if she’d seen it before. “Where’d you get that?”

“I’ve been waiting for a good time to return it,” Neville said, holding it out to her. “Been carrying it around for five years.”

“How did you…?”

“Happened to be at the right place at the right time,” Neville offered her the ribbon again, (Y/N) taking it gently in her hands. “You should wear your hair however you want, by the way, not just to please some bloke.”

“You’ve kept it?” (Y/N) asked, rubbing the silk with her thumb. It had to be the one she had lost during the battle. Why else would it be so dirty, so worn? “Why?”

“I mean, you’ve kept my jumper for seven years,” Neville laughed. “I could ask you the same question.”

“What?”

“My grey cardigan? From that day in Potions? I saw it on your dresser.”

“You went through my things?” (Y/N) asked, tone rising. “That’s a terrible invasion of privacy, Neville!”

“Invasion?” Neville said, matching her tone. “It was sitting next to that Honeydukes box, not exactly hidden from sight.”

(Y/N) stood up, now facing the Gryffindor fully. “Did you rifle through that too?” Her tone turned worried, only slightly. “Couldn’t help but snoop?”

“I didn’t snoop,” Neville responded, holding his hands in front of his chest, as if protecting himself. “Honest. You had it laying out—”

“—and you took a closer look at it!?”

“I’m not the one who kept something that wasn’t theirs for seven years,” Neville stood up, tired of being yelled at. “At least I was planning on giving the ribbon back!”

“You gave it to me,” she scoffed, rolling her eyes. “You said I could keep it—”

“—and I don’t regret it! I’m not accusing you of anything, (Y/N). You’re the one making a big deal out of this.”

“I’m making a big deal of this? Really?” (Y/N) pressed a finger to his chest. “You’re the one making a big deal of it, bringing up why I kept a gift? You kept a bloody ribbon of mine for no reason!”

“No reason?” Neville looked down at the finger on his chest, pushing it away. “I wanted to return it, but you ran off before I could. I didn’t see you for five years after-after—”

“—after what, Neville? Go on, spit it out,” (Y/N) crossed her arms, tipping her weight onto her left side.

“After you kissed me!” Neville practically screamed. “You kissed me and just… you just ran off,” his voice lowered, just for a moment. The wind died down, leaving a silence around the two.

“I didn’t know what else to do,” (Y/N) said coldly. “It was a mistake and I realized that the second I looked at you after the fact,” her face hardened, expression unmoving.

“Looked at me? You barely gave it a second before you ran off,” Neville replied, racking his memory. “You didn’t even think about what I could’ve been feeling in that moment, you just cared about yourself!”

“Here we go,” (Y/N) sighed. “It’s always about me, right? Sorry I ran off when my dad just died!”

“Can you shut it about your dad for five minutes?!” Neville didn’t mean to roar, the sound reverberating from the courtyard. Thankfully the party was still in full swing, the loud music echoing from the banquet hall. “Stop acting like you didn’t talk to me for five years was because of your dad! Yeah, he died. I’m sorry about that,” Neville found a moment of peace, clarity. “But you have to understand where my mind was at,” he sighed. “That was my first kiss, you know? You just ran off.”

(Y/N)’s face softened. “I didn’t know…”

“No, you didn’t,” Neville felt his hand run through his hair, covering it in a thin layer of gel. He had used too much. “I was royally crushed. My best mate kissed me and just ran off, never to be seen or heard from again. I tried to find you after, I did. I wanted to talk, but no one knew where you went."

“I went to the lake,” (Y/N) admitted. “Process my thoughts. My mum told me about my dad and I didn’t know what else to do,” she shrugged, rubbing her arms, now growing cold. “I finally went to go talk to you, but you were sitting with her, Luna. You looked happy, Nev. Happier than I had ever seen you,” tears pricked (Y/N)’s eyes, threatening to fall. “I knew that going to talk would mess that up for you, threaten that happiness you so desperately deserved. I did what I thought was best and just… left.”

“I was happy,” Neville admitted. “A war we had no option to be fighting in was over, for good. Damnit, (Y/N) of course I was happy.”

“I’m glad—”

“—but that’s just the thing, isn’t it? You did what you thought was best. Luna was my friend, she was there for me, she listened. You ran off at the first sign of danger, afraid of your feelings,” Neville seethed. “A terrible habit of yours, really.”

“So you’re not afraid of your feelings? That’s rich.”

“Of course I am, but I’ve learned to listen,” Neville said, feeling his back straighten. “Luna taught me that.”

“I bet she did,” (Y/N) hummed, hardly pleased with the mention of the Ravenclaw’s name.

“She taught me a lot, (Y/N). I never regretted my relationship with Luna, she helped me realize what I needed in my life,” Neville said, digging deep in his throat to find the words.

“What you needed? Tell me, Neville, what did you need that Luna couldn’t give you?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” he flung his hand out, as if to prove a point. “I needed you, (Y/N).”

Silence.

(Y/N) couldn’t bring herself to look up from her shoes, couldn’t bring herself to look at her best mate, wearing his heart on his sleeve. “Past tense?” she mumbled, knowing that Neville couldn’t hear her. A part of her hoped he did.

“I thought it was, too,” Neville admitted, hearing every word. “Past tense, that is. But after seeing that you kept my cardigan, a foolish part of me thought that maybe, just maybe, you felt that way about be at some point. Hell, maybe you felt that way now…” (Y/N)’s expression was unchanged, still looking at her shoes. “But you started dating that-that prick—”

“Who told me to go for it!?” (Y/N) finally shouted, tears dripping from her face, voice dripping with venom. “You’re the one who told me to ask him out, so I did. You told me to go through with taking him to the wedding, so I did—”

“You didn’t have to listen!”

“Would you stop shouting at me?!” (Y/N) shouted, almost ironically.

“Bloody hell, here I am, trying to tell you that I love you and all you can do is ask me to stop shouting!? Honestly, (Y/N), sometimes you really surprise me—”

It was then a familiar feeling danced across his lips, forcibly and fast, effectively shutting him up. The same feeling from five years ago.

She kissed him.

General Tag List: @maralisa124 , @leighxlover , @hey-its-me-rai , @missihart23 , @biatheintrovert , @chocolaterumble, @why-am-i-sad-and-sleepy , @steve-thotgers

Neville Longbottom Tag List: @readerbandit

#neville longbottom x reader #neville longbottom #neville longbottom x you #harry potter #harry potter x reader #oopsiesss #these two i swear #maybe they should just... idk... /figure it out/#if you know what... i .... mean #(eyes)

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whispersafterdusk · 3 years

Text

Lost in Time - ch 7

"Oh come on - you're going to eventually own more than two sets of clothing you know."

Eli had once said Gale seemed like 'an animated fellow' - if he was animated then Selene was animated to the power of ten; there were times she thought of the builder as a hyper little puppy and it wasn't a personality type she was entirely used to just yet so the woman's eagerness was a bit daunting sometimes.

"You've already spent a lot of money on me-" Eli started, only for Selene to make a hushing gesture.

"Yes, I have, and I've got gols to spare -- just to rub it in Higgin's face once I purposely made certain I stayed the number one top shop in Portia for three years in a row. That built up quite the savings and I'm not going to be spending it on myself anytime soon. Now come on - you need more than a bed and a tiny table. Go nuts!" the woman laughed, gesturing at the various furniture items that lined the walls of...was it Paulie? Paulie's store. ((Continued below cut))

She'd eventually decided on staying with Selene; Happy Apartments had reminded her too much of the barracks, and she...wasn't ready to deal with that constant reminder yet. So, the offered, spacious room at Selene's had been her choice, and Selene had awakened her bright and early to go furniture shopping. The bed was easy: a simple wooden frame and headboard that had an ivy pattern carved into it and a basic mattress; the frame and headboard were painted a nice cream color and the ivy was a deep green. Along with it she'd chosen a matching bedside table that had two small drawers built in, and she'd deemed that sufficient enough to start out with but Selene was...very insistent on furnishing the entire room.

There was another small table that matched the bed, and the builder woman kept "subtly" nudging her toward a bookcase with matching chair as well as a piece that was half dresser (with mirror) and half armoire; all of it was a pale wood that, while it wasn't the exact shade of cream as the headboard, was still a close enough color that it all could pass as a "matching" bedroom set.

"Even if I say no, this is going to magically turn up in my room isn't it?" she asked dryly.

Selene giggled. "Not 'magically,' no. If you like them, then let's get them -- Paulie'll even move them in for us."

"That's right! Because it's the manly thing to do for such a large order," the giant man laughed.

The man was...pretty obsessed with the word "manly" but his laugh was genuine; he and Selene had that same level of friendliness going on. Hopefully that friendliness would remain after he found out who she was and where (and when) she'd come from.

Anyway...back to the matter at hand. Apparently everything in the shop was something Paulie had made himself, and she had a feeling that everything she picked up now was as high quality as it looked and would probably last her several decades so at least Selene wasn't paying a premium for furniture that would fall apart in two years. "...fine, all right. But just these things and that's IT, got it?"

Selene snickered then held a hand out to Paulie; as Eli watched the man took a handful of gols (why the world had gone back to physical coin-based currency was beyond her) and dropped it into her palm.

"When exactly did you two have time to make a bet on her wearing me down?"

"As you were looking at the bed frames. When the smallish builder sets her mind to something very little will stop her," Paulie said. "And sometimes that means I lose a manly bet."

Selene pocketed the handful of coin, looking smug. "It was a righteous cause, I promise you. You deserve to actually have a comfortable living space."

"I'll have all this delivered by end of the afternoon," Paulie went on. "Did you have a floor plan in mind?"

"Nah, we can move it ourselves once you get it into the house," Selene replied. "Thank you Paulie." She gave the large man a hug and he returned it with enough force to lift the builder from her feet then waved at them as they headed out from the shop.

Outside the wind was blowing but the sky was clear; Eli zipped her jacket back up against the chill and looked to Selene. "Now what?"

"Well... Merlin is helping Petra check for any mention or pictures of the tool we need, so they're busy today. I wanted to wait to see if they found anything and I also have the factory building the last pieces of the lockable elevator car at the moment so even if I had all the measurements or assurances that I could go ahead and try casting that tool we need I'd still have to wait for that to finish. So...basically, we've got the day free aside from being home when Paulie delivers the furniture. Want to get a late breakfast?"

Eli opened her mouth to reply when a comically large set of scissors over a storefront across the way caught her attention. "-is that a salon?"

"Huh? - oh, yeah. Sanwa runs it - cuts, styles, and dyes hair. And beards, but that doesn't apply to you," Selene answered, grinning.

With a small smile she looked away from the scissors shining in the morning sun and back to the builder. "Don't suppose I could rely on your charity for one more thing, could I?"

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

The apricots Selene grew along the western fence line were juicy and tasted fantastic, and made a for a refreshing snack after an hour or so of moving furniture around.

Paulie had carried it all in and then she and Selene had pushed things into place; Selene was now off double checking on the final pieces of that locking car mechanism, and Eli was sitting on a stool in front of the fence with her back pressed to the wooden slats as she slowly munched on one of the last apricots the builder had gotten off the trees before winter had set in.

It seemed that along with new or hybrid fruits and vegetables a lot of plants she was familiar with had developed a rather long shelf-life on top of having shifted what seasons they typically grew in -- in this case, Selene's apricot trees kept producing right up to the first frost of late fall whereas the trees Eli had known in her time period had mostly stopped dropping fruit by late summer (and the apricots back then definitely hadn't lasted for a few months without showing signs of rot or withering). There was a single apple tree in the little "grove" along the fence and from what Selene had said the apple tree at least produced on a schedule that Eli remembered.

There were neat, orderly rows of planters next to the trees and while they were empty now there were little signs attached to them to identify what had been there: chili peppers, cotton (such a small amount though...surely that wasn't useful enough to grow so little of it?), green lettuce, pumpkins, wheat (again how was it useful to grow just a few tiny planters full, versus an entire field?)

It was a small comfort to actually see proof that not everything had changed so drastically but that was about all that was immediately familiar on the property.

In the planters among the normal plants Eli recognized were more of the weird ones: bamboo papaya, cornball (this one was at least...SORT of understandable? It seemed to be corn that just grew in an orb instead of a long cob), layered carrots (something that tasted like a carrot yet was shaped like a turnip and colored a stripey green and white that resembled neither vegetable), potato fruit (looked like an apple, tasted like a sweet potato), sisal... There were remnants of flowers that Selene had called rainbow flowers, and despite there being only withered stems and dried petals Eli could see the name was very fitting.

And over there, separate from the fruit trees, was a cluster of seven trees that were totally unrecognizable; Selene had called them nitra, zeolora, and crystella trees and Eli had never seen anything so bizarre as trees that grew...rock and crystal-looking "fruit" that hung heavy from the branches or leaked from the bark like a growth. Whatever or however the rocks and crystals grew the builder had said that the trees weren't ready to be harvested but had promised to let her help when it was time; what had gone wrong in nature to create trees that grew rocks?

No... What had gone wrong with the world that gave chemicals and biological weapons free reign to do all THIS?

'At least some of it's familiar...' she kept thinking to herself.

And she had to keep latching on to the familiar things, but there were precious few compared to everything that had changed... Plants were different, the trees were different (even the "normal" ones growing naturally around the shop - Eli didn't recognize those species at all), languages had disappeared, technology was gone...

And then there was all the people, and all the nations, that were gone too.

A twinge hit her in the gut and she leaned her head back against the fence behind her; the change in posture let the light breeze blow right down the front of her, through the little opening between the V-shape of the zipper on her jacket and the tiny gap at her collar bone where her sweater neck drooped slightly. The sudden stab of cold against her skin drew her attention away from the black hole of thought she was about to tumble down and she took a steadying breath.

After a few moments she did zip her jacket up to beneath her chin but she stayed leaning as she was; from the workshop and warehouse across the yard Eli could hear the noise of machines pounding and grinding away -- the locking elevator car was nearly done with only the front and back wall panels needing completion. The lock itself was fairly clever and Selene had seemed especially proud of herself as she showed it off to her earlier; it required both a physical key and a magnet of a certain strength to turn the tumbler and lift an inner locking bar that fit into the gap the door would ordinarily slide effortlessly into, and without the magnet to lift the bar you'd have to tear the entire door apart to get that bar up and out of the way (and by that point you wouldn't even need to as the door would be less a door and more a gaping hole).

Selene had selected a pile of magnets of various shapes and sizes but all roughly the same strength and the plan was only some of them would get a key and some would get a magnet (with a few exceptions - Gale would have both a key and magnet and so would at least one of the Civil Corps members). It essentially meant that it would take two people to get the car unlocked, which Eli considered a little overkill but was willing to let the mayor have the final call.

It did make her wonder what kind of war had just passed between the Alliance and this Duvos...Gale was dead set on absolutely nothing in those ruins falling into Duvos hands even though Eli knew there wasn't a chance in hell that anyone on the planet could replicate anything that could be found down there.

The thrumming and clanking of the workshop factory rather nicely covered up the sound of approaching hoofbeats coming from the direction of the city gates; Eli wasn't even aware Arlo had gotten that close until he'd said hello, and then she felt like an idiot at how she'd jumped out of her skin at the sudden greeting.

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

"Didn't mean to startle you, sorry."

Spacer nickered quietly - almost like the horse was also apologizing on his behalf.

Eli sat up from where she'd been leaning against the fence. "Not your fault, was just...thinking, I guess. I need to get back into the habit of listening for every little noise."

With a nod Arlo quietly gave her a once over; she was looking stronger every day, and now that she was out here with Selene she'd be right next to the Civil Corps usual jogging path. "-you're looking well. Does Dr. Xu have you exercising to build your muscles back up?"

"Not yet, but getting out to the facility and working inside it is doing a pretty good job of getting me back to what would be normal for anyone else. It's going to take a lot of work and protein to get back to what's 'normal' for me."

"When the Civil Corps does training exercises we usually start out with a run that begins at the gates and goes right by here - maybe you can start joining us, when we get back to it."

Eli smiled at him. "I'd like that. It'd be a good way to get the lay of the land too." She jerked a thumb over toward Selene's factory. "She's almost got the locking car done so whatever schedule you had before you ought to be getting back to soon."

Arlo gently nudged Spacer a little bit closer so he didn't feel like he was just a few levels shy of shouting at her to be heard over the noise of the factory going at full steam. "I'll be helping to haul it out and install it - how big is it?"

"Big enough to properly fit into the shaft, and with thick walls and door. The lock's actually pretty clever too."

"Good. We need clever to keep people out of there. Has Gale talked to you yet?"

He noted that she paused (it was barely perceptible - could've been mistaken for a flinch) before offering him another smile.

"Yeah, he has. This coming sunday the cat's out of the bag."

"I don't expect any trouble but Remington and I will be there regardless."

Eli nodded and an awkward silence fell; she took a halfhearted bite out of the mostly finished apricot in her hand but was chewing it slowly, like she didn't want to swallow it.

Sensing a change of subject was probably needed Arlo cleared his throat. "-your haircut is nice. Suits you."

"Thanks," came Eli's quick answer - the relief in her tone was palpable. She ran a hand through her hair; it was shaved almost to her skull on the sides and in the back, but the top had been left long enough to comb to the left. "It's how I wore it before. Fits better under helmets and there's less there for someone to grab a handful of if they manage to get close and I don't have said helmet on."

Ha...a haircut doubling as part of personal defense. That was something he hadn't given thought to before. "So you've met Sanwa then. What'd you think of him?"

"Chatty fellow. Selene mentioned I was new to the area and he started waxing poetic about Portia and how peaceful it is out here. I guess that's why you only need three Civil Corps members, eh?" she asked, chuckling quietly.

Arlo smiled faintly, shaking his head. "He does have a point. There's not a lot of interest in joining the Civil Corps because not a lot of people think we need a large group of us because Portia is so peaceful. Gale does have the budget set aside to hire on more people as needed or required, and Paulie helps out as he's able -- we did have a recent incident with a rogue knight that had people clamoring for more town security but that sentiment only lasted a couple of weeks."

"...a...rogue knight?" Eli repeated, raising an eyebrow. "Like, metal armor, sword, chivalry knight?"

"Sort of. He had some armor on and a sword but he was commanding an All Source AI and other AIs to attack Portia. We sustained some heavy damage but were able to fend him off with help from Django."

Eli let out a barked "ha!" before spinning on her stool to rest her arms on the fence and her chin on her arms. "I knew it. That man carries himself too confidently to just be a chef."

"He...what?"

"Django. I met him earlier when Selene and I got brunch. He walks and carries himself with a certain confidence and balance that I'd expect out of someone who's been trained in combat. Is the knight-theme of his diner just for show, or is he some sort of knight too?"

"He's retired. You could tell all that from watching how someone walks?"

Eli nodded. "You can. Might take a bit to notice with some more than others but with him it's a dead giveaway. If you ever want to learn what to look for I can teach you, no problem."

"I'll keep that in mind. Could be useful." Arlo glanced toward the door of the factory; he was tempted to get down and go check on progress but if Eli said Selene almost had it done he was willing to take her word for it. "I need to go on patrol. Would you like to ride along? Get the lay of the land, like you said earlier, and maybe we'll find somewhere you recognize."

Eli seemed to consider that a moment, then nodded; as she stood she whipped her arm and sent what was left of the apricot in hand whizzing toward the compost heap across the yard. Arlo tracked its arc and nodded approvingly as it landed on top and sent a small clump of rotting leaves and cornball husks sliding down the side of the heap.

"Nice throw."

"Thanks. I'll let Selene know where I'm headed and then we can head out."

She headed into the workshop and was back a few moments later; Arlo held a hand out and helped her mount up behind him before nudging Spacer into a trot.

Across from Selene's shop was Sophie's ranch; as they drew away from the workshop the hissing and pounding noises faded and the soft sounds of cattle and horses started to become apparent. The wheat fields had long since been harvested and as they ambled along Arlo could pick out tracks across the field were someone had been walking and another longer stretch that looked like someone had been sledding there. These spots and of course the areas where the cows and horses wandered had thawed out down to the ground underneath and stood out as dark, muddy spots against the remaining slushy snow that still clung to the ground (and was also a reminder of the mud they had to wade through daily to get to and from the facility as well).

"Were there any farms nears Dubei?"

"On the very outskirts, and also hundreds of community plots on the rooftops."

Arlo blinked. "On the rooftops? How?"

He heard a soft chuckle behind him. "Just a reinforced area able to handle extra weight of soil and water, good drainage, that sort of thing. Almost every roof had some sort of food garden or ornamental one - Dubei loved their greenery. Planters and trees on every street and corner, shelves to let vines come down the sides of buildings. Lots of potted plants inside buildings too. From far off it'd be easy to miss among all the lights, signs, and the glass reflecting everything but down in close, on the streets and in the buildings themselves, you'd see green everywhere."

"Sounds like a lot of work."

He felt movement against his back as she shifted, then "-not when you have AIs specifically handling the work."

"An AI for every task, sounds like."

From the corner of an eye he saw Eli nod. "They did the bulk of menial and hard labor, and of course were invaluable assistants in day to day goings on. Lots of data storage, for one."

"The historical records seemed to suggest AIs did everything for humans."

"NOT everything," Eli corrected, tone firm. "They couldn't do everything. And we couldn't trust them with everything anyway."

"Couldn't trust an AI? But I at least thought they were everywhere."

"They were. But would YOU want to trust every aspect of life to something that was one damaged power supply or corrupted file away from shutting down at the worst possible time?"

"I guess not."

They rode on in silence for a bit; the farm passed by and they were approaching the fields beyond Sophie's fences. He turned Spacer to the right and began to follow the fence line up toward where the air balloon platform was. In full view from here was the water wheel that fed an irrigation system for the tree farm, as well as two towering ruins that were little more than metal husks -- they hadn't held much of importance when they'd first officially been delved into about twenty five years ago and since then they'd been stripped of as much useful scrap as they could without causing them to collapse.

Very carefully he turned his head to catch a view of Eli behind him; she was studying the shape of the ruins in the distance and seemed to be comparing them to the water wheel. He stopped Spacer at the DeeDee stop and shifted to look back at her. "Anything seem familiar yet?"

"I'm...PRETTY sure that rounded building there was a planetarium -- a, uh, a place where you could learn about space and the solar system. That rounded top was usually a theater where you could sit and watch a presentation projected onto the ceiling that, because it was rounded and also huge, seemed to drop you right in the middle of the movie. It's easy to trick the brain into thinking you're moving if you're surrounded with the right sensory information so the whole point of the presentation was to make you feel like you were literally flying through space examining planets."

"Sounds like fun."

Eli laughed quietly behind him. "It was. And it's something I'm sure even your level of technology could replicate."

Arlo smiled a bit at that and guided Spacer off to the left, diverting toward the elevator that led up to the hot springs. As he scanned the area and the bluffs ahead he wasn't seeing anything out of the ordinary - there weren't even any footprints up this way. He checked that the elevator was still working as it should and then turned Spacer down the path back toward the road that would lead to the harbor.

Technically he was going well out of the way of his usual patrol route but with Eli with him he wanted to give her the best chance possible to recognize anything in the immediate area; that she'd sort of recognized a planetarium was, he assumed, a good thing, and maybe with a few more landmarks she'd be able to piece together a map of Dubei and know approximately where she was now, 300 years later.

The lighthouse was always in view from almost anywhere you cared to stand once you were south of Sophie's, along with the top of the cargo crane. There was a rumble in the distance suggesting the bus that wheeled around Portia was just past the trees up ahead (that was where the bus stop was, after all) and aside from the soft lapping of waves against the shore there wasn't much else going on out here. He could do a quick loop then circle back north toward Amber Island's bridge, then keep going...

"Was Dubei close to the shoreline?"

"It was built out over the shoreline," came Eli's answer. "Big pylons, gigantic harbor. Docks and walkways. I'm not sure where we are on Dubei's shoreline just yet though."

Arlo nodded and kept Spacer moving at a leisurely trot. Eli seemed a little interested in seeing the "haunted" cave on Amber Island so he made a mental note to make sure she got a chance (knowing Selene if she caught wind of it she'd drag the woman out there herself) and then kept northeast toward Bassanio Falls.

"Is that...desert, over the river?"

Arlo nodded. "It is. Eufala Desert. There's some ruins out that way and Dana's mining operation in Ingall's Mine. If we'd gone across that second bridge we just passed on the right we would've arrived in South Block - it's a tiny outpost right at the edge of the desert." As he glanced back to her he saw her frown, then shake her head. "I'm guessing there wasn't any desert near Dubei in your time."

"No, there wasn't."

She didn't elaborate further; the lift to the top of the falls was where, lately, Arlo had been stopping his patrol route -- now that they were having to keep an eye on the facility in the marsh whoever got the afternoon shift was usually the one who skirted the edge of the marsh and then circled around and down from WOW Industries...

But, the very top of the falls was fairly high up and you could see for miles around up there so that would be the optimal place to have a look from. When they were within walking distance of the lift he got down from Spacer's back and walked the horse the rest of the way; the DeeDee stop would double nicely as a hitching post and there he left Spacer tethered before offering Eli a hand down.

"Let's head up - you might spot something you know."

As soon as they were at the top of the lift Eli immediately spotted the towering ruins of WOW Industries. "Did you people give names to any of these ruins?"

"Not really. But the ones we were able to find mention of, or ones with surviving signs, we just call them by their names. That's WOW Industries."

Eli's eyes lit up. "THAT'S WOW? Well, that's half of WOW. All right...all right, so then..."

She jogged up the path ahead of him and he sped up to keep pace, and then almost collided with her when she abruptly stopped.

"What the heck are THOSE?" she asked then, pointing off to their left where there was a flurry of movement near the tops of the trees.

Arlo squinted off toward where she was pointing and caught the barest glimpse of fluttering wings. "Panbats."

"Pan...bats?" she repeated slowly, turning to look at him in confusion.

"Panbats. They're pests that feed on trees - we had an infestation of them at the tree farm a few years ago. Usually they're pretty harmless but if they're hungry or you scare one they might attack."

Eli continued to stare at him for a few breaths more, then turned on her heel to head up the path further before turning to the left to creep up to the base of a tree; at the base she knelt down, putting the tree partially between herself and the panbats that were flapping around. Arlo came up behind her, counting seven of the beasts; he was more interested in watching how Eli watched them -- he wouldn't say she was sizing them up but she was eying them with far more than a passing curiosity. As they hunched there, observing, Arlo could see one large panbat alight on a bough and pull a shriveled apple free from a dry branch before beginning to suck at it.

"...do you have pandas, and bats, in this world?" Eli asked quietly.

"Bats, yes. Not sure what a panda is."

"Pandas - panda bears. Think...THESE things, but no wings, and about half the size of your horse."

Arlo shook his head. "We don't have those around here, at least. Couldn't say for the rest of the world though."

Eli let out a sigh that trailed off into a faint raspberry noise before she stood and turned back to the WOW Industries building. "Well... The good news is I know WOW Industries, and I know where it was. We're in the southeastern corner of Dubei and now I can also confirm that the shoreline is NOT where it should be, and that none of these bluffs or waterfalls here are where they're supposed to be. It's like...it's like parts of the land got shifted, or sheared off."

He didn't know what to say to that and instead followed silently as she walked up to the building. She stared up at the building and at the door, then circled around the ruin's foundation to the left; there was a flat metal platform here they'd assumed was some kind of loading dock that served double duty as a canopy that covered three enormous pipes coming out of the building. Not far from the edge of the platform was an enormous, wide stone retaining wall that overlooked the eastern border of the Collapsed Wasteland. There was another wall and a line of trees that blocked the majority of the view of the Wasteland from the top of this particular wall - it was hardly more than a crater with a few intact buildings clinging to the land so there wasn't much to see regardless.

Despite the obstructed view Eli was still standing atop the wall and, while he couldn't be sure, it sort of looked like she was measuring distances with her hands - using her fingertips lined up with the landscape and tops of the ruins.

He was content to wait and let her do whatever she needed; down below them he could just make out slurpees wandering about -- he wondered what she'd think of THOSE.

"Oh Fate...why is THIS the way the story goes..."

He just barely heard her speak. "-huh?"

"Nothing. Just having a crisis of faith. Or, in my case, a crisis of Fate."

"Ah."

She ran her hand through her hair again, and paced back and forth a few steps in each direction. "--what religions even exist now?"

"We have the Church of the Light. There might be others but I'm not sure - I've never been very far from Portia." He waited a moment, watching her pace. "What religions existed back then?"

"Hundreds of thousands. Mine specifically was the Foundational Three."

Arlo shook his head. "I've never heard of that one. The Research Center might have, but not me."

"Great..." she sighed. "Well. The Foundational Three are..." She paused, kicking away snow and ice from the stone under her before dropping down to sit. "Fate. Balance. And Judgement. Fate is the Great Curator, and ensures that every soul born into the world has a story to tell and, when those lives are over, makes sure their stories are made a part of the cosmos. Balance is the Silent Observer - Balance makes sure your life isn't too hard or too easy because too hard means you give up and too easy means you don't grow. And Judgement is the Arbiter, the one who carries out decisions made by Balance. Judgement will remove or place obstacles as needed, and punish or reward those as needed -- those who make it their purpose to make other lives miserable will find themselves on the receiving end of Judgement's wrath, and that's not somewhere you want to be. And on the other end of the spectrum are those who are given a helping hand to overcome their troubles if it proves to be more than they can bear."

She trailed off, staring out at the treetops below them. Arlo likewise cleared off a spot to sit and dropped down next to her. "It sounds like a nice religion."

Eli nodded. "Compared to most I'd say it definitely is. Certainly more kind than a lot I'd heard of back then. A lot of religions threatened doom and hellfire and damnation, or the destruction of the soul, or losing the ability to be reborn into another life - always more threats of the bad things versus promises of the good things. The Foundational Three always made the most sense to me though."

"Why's that?" He asked almost without thinking, then quickly added "you don't need to answer that if it's too personal."

She waved a hand dismissively. "Nah, it's fine. In fact, the Three actually encourage you to share information and stories. That's part of why it made sense to me...there's things that should be shared, and remembered. And there's proof all around you that the stories told keep echoing - there's a reason people believe in ghosts. Those are just stories that weren't ready to end."

"I'm not sure I follow."

At that Eli laughed quietly, pulling up a knee to rest her chin on it as she wrapped her hands around her leg. "So, you have ghost stories here, right? I'd assume so being as you have a 'haunted' cave attraction." When he nodded she continued. "A ghost is a soul. A story. And sometimes, when someone dies, instead of their story joining the infinite collection the story itself hangs around. Sometimes it's there because the soul feels their story was cut short and they're upset. Sometimes it remains because the soul feels too strong of a connection to someone else's story, and they can't leave yet because their story is still being written, just on someone else's pages. That's how you end up with guardian spirits or the angry, hateful ghosts that appear in scary stories -- it's just someone's life, someone's story, that wasn't ready to close the cover yet. Eventually though the cover closes, the story returns to the shelves, and the details of that story are written in the fabric of existence where anyone, at any time, may catch a whisper of it even if they never knew that person."

She went quiet after that and Arlo mulled over everything she'd just said; it was a neat and tidy way to think of the universe, for sure. There was even a small bit of comfort in it, thinking that both people he knew and also those he'd never known or would ever know would somehow know about him when he was gone...granted, that thought was terrifying too - a bunch of strangers hearing only bits and pieces of things he'd done or the type of person he'd been. Anyone could make any sort of story out of scraps and believe themselves right.

"What happens when you accomplish whatever Fate said your story was supposed to be about?" he asked into the silence.

Eli shrugged. "How would you know you'd done that?"

"...no idea."

"And no one else would know either. Only Fate would. And even stories that seem complete can keep going. The only thing you can know for sure is you have a starting point in your story, and somewhere there's an ending point, but there's an infinite number of ways to get there." She trailed off again, then inhaled deeply and looked over to him. "Though I definitely understand the NEED to know why your story is going where its going. What am I supposed to accomplish?" With a flick of her fingers she gestured to the Wasteland ahead of them. "How in the world does THIS fit into any reasonable story Fate would want to tell?"

He didn't have an answer for that so he just stayed quiet; the sun was setting and the breeze was getting a bit more chilly and out of habit he rubbed his hands together.

The movement attracted her attention. "We can head back. I've seen enough to have at least some idea of where I am. It's just...staggering that there's so little left."

He nodded and stood, and offered her a hand up; they walked back to Spacer in silence and began to make their way back to Portia.

About halfway there he heard her sigh again - it was more of a groan though. "What's wrong?"

"I just realized something. Something that I was doing."

"What's that?"

"I want to know what happened here, and what that facility actually is and why I was down inside it. And I keep catching myself thinking of those three things - what happened, what it is, why I was there - as all separate pieces of the puzzle, when I SHOULD be thinking of it as one big knot to unravel. Seeing WOW, and spotting the sewer network got me to thinking about what's gone, what should be where, and how the landscape changed and for a moment it was like THAT was the only problem. And I know I'm doing it because, to be blunt, I'm terrified to actually get the answer..."

"I'm sorry," was all he could think to say.

The ride back to Portia was quiet after that.

#Lost in Time #lit #Lost in Time - ch 7 #Arlo #Builder #Paulie #My Time at Portia

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dahliawolfe · 4 years

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Prey pts 1&2

original horror/thriller

I look up at the tall spire of the ivy covered building and feel a light smile tug at my lips. I’ve been waiting for this day my whole life. Craine University is the place I’ve dreamed of coming for a long time. It has the best Literature program in the country. And I’m lucky to be here. Very lucky. Only about one percent of the people who apply get into CU. And I’m one of this year’s one percent. The campus is larger than I thought, sitting in the forest on a sprawling plot of green land. Trees are in full bloom all around the campus, and flowers poke up in raised beds on various areas all around. All the buildings are old, ivy covered, brick, and solid oak. The sidewalks are cobblestone, and even stepping through the front gates feels like stepping back in time two centuries.

…

My dorm is in Liberty Hall, and my boots thud against the solid hardwood floor as I make my way up the winding staircase. The electronic lock on the door seems almost out of place here. Nonetheless, it beeps as I slide my keycard into it. The oak door creaks open with a whine, revealing a spacious room. A couch and two chairs decorate a common living area, while three doors line the perimeter. The chalk board on the front of one reads, “Alessandria”, and I assume that she’s my roommate. The door on the on the other side of the common area has a blank chalkboard on the door, and the door in the center of the room is cracked open, revealing a bathroom. I make my way to the room on the far left, it’s tucked next to a little kitchen and breakfast nook area. This door doesn’t creak like the last, instead, it pops open and swings with a soft whoosh. My eyes strain against the darkness of the room in an attempt to memorize its contents.

“Hey,” a cheery, accented voice chirps from behind me, nearly making me yelp.

“Fuck!” I exclaim, clutching my chest and turning to look at who spoke to me. A mocha skinned girl with gorgeous caramel and chocolate curls and warm coffee colored eyes smiles at me widely.

“I’m Lessa,” she says with a chuckle. “I didn’t mean to scare you. I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s ok. I’m Ryder. Ryder Fox” I give a lame wave and a crooked grin.

“Nice to meet you, Ryder,” Lessa replies, nodding reverently. An awkward silence falls between us, before Lessa chirps again.

“I was gonna head out to the cafeteria. You want to come along?”

“Oh, no thanks. I have to…” I look around helplessly. I’m not a people person, so I really don’t want to trek across campus with somebody I barely know. “I have to unpack,” I conclude, motioning to my bedroom.

“Yeah, of course. Well, see ya!” Lessa declares before making a beeline for the front door. I watched her go before heading to my room. I flip the light on, to be greeted with exposed brick wall, hardwood floors, and a wrought iron bed atop an ornate rug in the center of the room. A window seat and large window, stand on the other side of the room next to a set of French doors that lead to a balcony.

I toss my duffle bag onto the floor and sit down on the bed. The window and doors are blocked by heavy, blackout curtains, but I have a feeling that a lot of natural light will flow into the room when I get rid of them. A small wardrobe stands in place of a closet, and a white desk and wooden office chair decorate the corner of the room. Honestly, this room is more impressive than I thought it would be. I’d toured other dorms when I was still in high school, and to say that they were disappointing, was an understatement. This one was almost homey.

…

I make quick work of unpacking my clothes and head down to my car to grab the boxes I had stored in the back. The student parking area is across campus, and I knew that I’d need to make more than one trip, but at least it was a nice day. The sun was shining, and a nice breeze blew through the pine trees surrounding campus.

…

I’m lugging the box with my bedding and decorations up the cobblestone walkway, and it’s hotter than I’d originally thought. Sweat is dripping down my back; sticking my long, strawberry blonde hair to the back of my neck and forcing my bare thighs to stick together and peel apart in an uncomfortable process.

“You look like you could use some help,” a male voice speaks. I look up to see a guy with raven hair and five o’clock shadow smirking down at me.

“Uhh…No, I’m ok. Thanks though.” I try to move past him, but he steps in the way.

“I’m Aiden, and I’m heading to Liberty. Just let me help you out.”

I freeze. “How do you know I’m in Liberty?” I demand, feeling the sweat on my back turn to ice. I shift my weight, ready to drop the box if need be.

“Take it easy. I’m in Liberty. I saw you come in and head up to your room. It’s not a big deal. Now, are you going to let me help you, or not?”

I feel myself calm slightly, but I’m still on edge. “No. I got it thanks.” He smirks before bowing and stepping out of my way.

“See ya around. You coming to the block party tonight?” The university was hosting a campus-wide party for everyone to get to know their future classmates. I shake my head and shift the box, which seems to be growing heavier every second.

“Nah, not really my thing.” He nods, gives me another smirk and walks away without another word. “Well, that was creepy as hell. I look forward to living with him,” I mumble as I continue on my way.

…

The air conditioning hits my face in a welcomed woosh as I enter the lobby of Liberty. I trudge up the stairs, seriously considering leaving the rest of my boxes in my Jeep for the night, but I’d like to get everything put away before classes start on Monday, so I don’t have much time. I wrangle my key from my pocket and finally manage to get into our room. I left my inside door open, knowing that I’d be bringing heavy boxes up, and that I wouldn’t have any hands left to turn the tricky, old door knob. I step inside of my room and drop the box on the floor, sighing in relief when it’s no longer in my arms. A warm breeze catches my attention, and I see something move in the corner of my eye. I snap my head up to see that the curtains over the balcony doors are blowing in the wind. I didn’t open the balcony door, did I? A chill goes down my spine as I scan the room. Once I’ve convinced myself that no one is there with me, I go and shut the door, locking it. I must have opened it and forgotten. It’s been a whirlwind of a day, and I guess I’m a little absent minded. Still, I can’t shake the feeling that something isn’t right.

Pt. 2 Suspicions

I’ve just gotten out of the shower and am sitting on my bed, robe covering me, and damp hair trailing down my back when someone knocks at my room door.

“Uhh, come in?” I call, making sure that I’m at least semi-presentable. Lessa comes in with a bright smile and a pretty blonde-haired girl in tow.

“Hi, Ryder! This is my girlfriend, Tamra. Tamra, this is my roomie, Ryder,” Lessa chirps, sending a warm smile to both me and her girlfriend.

“Oh! Nice to meet you,” I reply, hurrying to stand and shake her hand. She seems like the friendly and open sort. Her ash blonde hair is chopped into an undercut, and her sapphire eyes sparkle with joy. It’s pretty obvious that these two are in love. Their body language screams complete comfort in each other’s presence. “I’m Ryder Fox.”

“Tamra O’Brien,” she replies with a slow, honeyed drawl.

“Do you go here too?” I ask, lamely, trying to act normal. Interaction with new people isn’t exactly my forte.

“Oh, no. I’m in Harvard.”

“She’s pre-law!” Lessa blurts with pride. Tamra chuckles.

“Yeah, what she said,” she adds, wrapping her arm over Lessa’s hips.

“That’s amazing! Do you enjoy it?”

Tamra shrugs. “I like the ethics portion. The actual law stuff is a little dry.” I chuckle.

“Yeah, I’d imagine.”

“Tam and I wanted to know if you wanted to join us at the block party tonight.”

“Umm…I actually wasn’t planning on going.”

“Oh, come on. It might be fun. Plus, it would be cool to get to know Lessa’s roomie,” Tamra adds, a grin tugging at her lips.

“Uhh…”

“Pleeease,” Lessa begs, looking up at me with big eyes.

“Ok. Sure. Why not? Give me five to get dressed?”

“Absolutely! We’ll be in the living room!”

Tamra offers me a grateful smile and quietly closes the door behind them. I turn to look at my newly stocked closet, pondering what I want to wear. Finally, I decide on a pair of worn denim short, a camo crop top, and some Vans. I twist my hair into a sloppy braid, grab my stuff and head out to meet the happy couple.

…

I’m in line for a corn dog when someone taps me on the shoulder. I turn to see Aiden. He nods and gives me a cocky smirk.

“Thought you didn’t do parties, Little Red,” he teases, tugging on the end of my braid. I scowl.

“Well, first; don’t call me that. And second; I’m here with some friends.” I shrug and turn back around. I hear him laugh.

“I’m glad you’re here. These stiffs were starting to bore me.”

“I’m not here for you,” I reply, before giving the concession worker my order and collecting my napkins and condiments.

“Buuuut…We are here together…” I open my mouth to protest, but he raises his hand to cut me off. “Or at the very least, we’re here at the same time. So, we could hang out.”

“I’m here with my friends,” I say, pointing to Tamra and Lessa, who are waiting for me at a nearby table.

“Great. You can introduce me,” Aiden replies. I sigh.

“Fine. I’ll be over there. Come over when you get your food,” I concede, gathering my snacks and making my way to the table. Tamra gives me a little grin.

“Who’s the boy-toy?” she teases.

I roll my eyes. “That’s Aiden. Is it ok if he comes to sit with us?” I ask.

“Sure!” Lessa replies, scooting her chair closer to Tamra, making room for an extra chair. I drag one over and sit in the other, tucking into my food.

Aiden roughly drops his plate before turning his chair around backwards and taking a seat straddling it. I narrow my eyes at him. He has serious issues.

“Aiden, this is my roommate, Lessa, and her girlfriend, Tamra. This is Aiden, guys.”

“Hi! Nice to meet you!” Lessa exclaims. Tamra simply nods at him.

Aiden nods back at the both of them and begins stuffing his face.

…

“Funnel cake?” Aiden asks almost an hour later. We’ve actually been having a good time. He’s not as terrible as his first impression would make you believe. I turn to him from laughing at something Tamra just said and nod.

“Thanks,” I reply, taking a piece and popping it in my mouth. “Oh, wow. This is good,” I exclaim, diving in for another piece.

“Yup. But it’s not as sweet as you,” Aiden quips, shooting a wink my way. We all burst into fits of giggles and Aiden gives a smile. The moment is interrupted by all the lights on the north side of the campus going out simultaneously. The only sound remaining in the courtyard is the sound of people moving nervously around in their chairs.

“What the hell?” Aiden growls.

“Blown fuse?” I theorize, reaching to switch on my phone’s flashlight. That’s when it happens. The scream comes. The blood curdling, ear piercing, heart stopping scream. I shine my light around us, and the beam is broken when a girl runs into the courtyard covered in blood.

“He’s dead!” she exclaims.

#Original Work #original character #horror #thriller #suspense

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roo-the-fox · 4 years

Text

WELCOME TO CHAPTER 2!!!! I am sleep-deprived and loopy lol!

I think I’m gonna add in some songs for you to listen to while you read, so here you go 😊😊

Roo’s Playlist:

Your Dog Loves You- Colde (feat. Crush) // Wi Ing Wi Ing- Hyukoh // When You Fall- Sam Kim, Chai // Photograph- offonoff // 247 - Junggigo

Anyways, Enjoy!!! 💜💜💜

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GIRL’S TRIP- Ch. 2

“Yeah, we’ll be there soon, Unni! Thanks for renting out the space to us, I really appreciate it! Yeah.... Yeah.... Okay, see you in about 15 minutes. Mmhmm... Okay, bye!” Savannah hung up her phone and turned to Annie and Jilly. “That was Ivy. She said that she’ll meet us outside the apartment when we arrive in Apgujeong. It’s the cutest shopping and fashion area! And it’s within Gangnam so we’ll get to be in that general area.”

“How exciting! But you didn’t have to take care of our housing arrangements, we could’ve helped!” Annie said from the front seat of the taxi car, Happy excitedly looking between the window and the driver.

“Yeah, we could’ve helped pick out a place. You wouldn’t even let us see the pictures of the place.” Jilly said, pouting. Savannah knew it drove her friends crazy to not know about the apartment, but she really wanted it to be a surprise for them after all they had done for her over the years.

“Don’t worry about it, guys! I wanted do this and you can always pay me back with food.” Savannah said, grinning widely at the thought of food. Annie and Jilly just rolled their eyes and sat back in their seats, looking out the window at the beautiful city. The mix of modern and traditional living harmoniously throughout the buildings. Beautiful architecture, extraordinary sculptures, and exquisite temples flooded the city with culture and life. Annie and Jilly forgot their anxieties and immersed themselves in the sights of the structures and the sounds of the bustling people.

“Ahjusshi, it’s my friends’ first times in Korea. What should we eat first?” Savannah asked, leaning to the side so the taxi driver could see her in the rear view mirror.

“Hmmmm,” The driver rubbed his face, thinking about the different types of decadent dishes that the country had to offer. “You had a long flight, yes?” He said, looking over at Annie, who nodded. “Then, I would suggest something hearty. They never serve enough food on those planes. Either budaejjigae or jjajangmyun.” All three girls were almost drooling at the thought of the dishes. He was right, they really had only eaten snacks on the flight, partly due to the nerves of traveling, partly because of nerves from a certain group of guys.

“Thank you, ahjusshi.” Savannah said, smiling gratefully at the driver. It was mid-afternoon now. By the time that they were settled, it would be dinner time and they could go grab something delicious.

The girls kept up the conversation with their driver, who had reached over to pet the puppy who wouldn’t stop staring at him until he gave her the proper attention. After a few more minutes, they finally arrived at the apartment. Savannah called Ivy to tell her that they had arrived. Savannah was pulling the suitcases out of the trunk when a very excited Ivy ran up behind her and embraced her. Savannah turned around, shocked, then squealed at her friend, excitedly hugging her back.

“I missed you so much! Oh my gosh, how are you? Are these your friends? Hi, I’m Ivy! Savannah and I were co-teachers before!” Ivy rambled off, shaking Annie and Jilly’s hands. “Oh! A puppy! She reminds me so much of Pie! Can I hold her?” Ivy asked, hopefully. Annie just nodded and handed over the shih tzu.

“Yeah, she’s the one who gave me my Korean name.” Savannah laughed before pulling out the rest of the bags.

“Yeah, some of our kids would always ask her about it so I gave her one. But come on, I’ll take you up to the apartment.” Jilly paid the taxi driver for the ride and they followed Ivy into the building. In the elevator, she told them about her family buying the plot of land a while ago and that it was full of luxury apartments. She added that the interior was made with an industrial yet clean feel to it.

Reaching the right floor, they walked to one of the doors and Ivy balanced Happy in one arm while she pushed in the key code. The door chimed it’s little welcome ring when Ivy opened the door to a beautiful open apartment.

Annie and Jilly’s jaws dropped as their entered the gorgeous French-modern home. Savannah just smiled and turned to Ivy, taking her shoes off before entering the space. Ivy put Happy down, letting the dog finally roam free. Annie and Jilly basically jumped out of their shoes to look around the living and dining areas. They squealed and awed over the details and view.

“Thanks again for letting us have this one.” Savannah said, leaning against the wall with Ivy.

“What’s so special about this apartment, in particular?” Annie inquired, turning around with an eyebrow raised

“It’s got four rooms. Savannah told me that there would be four of you and I just so happened to have this one open up recently.” Ivy smiled. Annie and Jilly turned to Savannah, daggers basically shooting at their friend. They had been told that there would only be two rooms for the girls to pair up in. Savannah just shrugged and smiled.

“Anyways, let’s get dinner sometime this week. Okay? Also, I left my number, the gate code, and the door code on the counter in the kitchen. Oh, and trash day is on Thursday. Call me if you need me!” Ivy explained, putting her jacket and shoes back on.

“Sounds good, I’ll message you on Kakao once we get SIM cards.” Savannah said, walking her back to the door. “I appreciate everything you’ve done. Say hi to your hubs and baby for me.” Savannah gave Ivy another hug before she left. Once the door closed, Savannah turned to see her two best friends stalking towards her with stern faces. Savannah just sighed, shoved her hands in her pockets, and prepared for the worst.

“Why didn’t you tell us?!” Annie barked. “This place must have cost a fortune.”

“Yeah, especially because we’re going to be getting our own rooms! Dude, please let us help you with this!” Jilly pleaded.

“No guys, its fine! I’ve wanted to do this since we started thinking about it. I saved up money from my last series and I got a huge signing bonus for my current series. I specifically wanted to do this for you guys. Please don’t take that away from me.” Annie and Jilly pouted at her, knowing that they couldn’t convince her otherwise.

“Fine,” Annie sighed. “Let’s go take a look at the rooms. I want to get settled before we head to dinner.”

“We need to get our phone cards before the shops close too. We can do that on our way out.” Jilly said, grabbing her suitcase and hoisting it up the stairs.

After looking around the upstairs areas and heavy deliberation, the girls decided on their rooms.

Annie’s room:

Jilly’s room:

Savannah’s room:

The girl’s moved their stuff to their rooms before taking turns in the shower. They were all greasy and gross from the flight and they wanted to clean up for dinner. The weather outside was still chilly, especially as the sun started to set so the girls decided to dress a little warmer before setting out.

Jilly’s outfit:

Annie’s Outfit:

Savannah’s outfit:

Leaving Happy with some food and water, the girls set off to find food. Annie and Jilly told Savannah to pick the restaurant since she surprised them with the apartment. They walked down the busy street until they passed a phone shop.

“Hey, let’s get our SIM cards while we’re out!” Jilly said, pulling the other two into the SK shop. After 30 minutes of working with the staff, they finally got their cards implanted in their phones, new phone numbers set, and paid for the next month of service. With that taken care of, they set off for dinner once again.

Looking around the surrounding streets, Savannah finally spotted a budaejjigae shop and she pointed it out to the others.

“This is perfect for a cool night like this! Let’s go!” The other two followed her into the shop and they sat down next to the window. Their mouths watered as they looked over the menu. Finally deciding on their order, they called the shop owner over and pointed out the stew they wanted along with a few sodas to help cut some of the stew’s greasiness. A few minutes later, their food came out and the owner watched as the girls’ eyes nearly flew out of their sockets at the beauty before them.

Once the budaejjigae had fully cooked, the girls started digging in. They all moaned out at the array of flavors hitting their tongues, only to receive weird looks from the patrons around them. Ignoring them, they fully dug into the delicious meal, savoring every bite and element within the spicy broth. They talked about what they wanted to do the next day, seeing as they were all exhausted and they wanted to be up and recharged once morning came around. Upon reaching the bottom of the pot, they slowed down on their eating and relaxed into the seats, looking out at the people walking by.

“So have you guys thought about reaching out to the boys?” Savannah asked, quietly, causing the other two to blush. They had been so focused on the apartment and food that the incidents from earlier in the day had somehow slipped their minds.

“Not yet. I wouldn’t even know what to say to him.” Annie said, looking down at her phone.

“Me too. How do you even talk to them?” Jilly said, taking a sip of her soda.

“Talk to them like you did on the plane. Like their ‘normal people’,” Savannah said, putting air quotes around the last part.

“Says the girl who could barely look Tae in the eyes. You didn’t even look at Namjoon.” Annie said, looking at her with a raised brow. Savannah just slouched.

“I dunno, dude. But from what you guys said, you told them that you’d message them once you guys got your SIM cards.” Savannah countered, grinning mischievously. Annie and Jilly just looked at each other, flushed.

“Okay, but should we plan out what we say first?” Jilly asked, looking between the other two.

“What about just ‘Hi, it’s Jilly/Annie from the plane.’ It’s just letting them know that you didn’t forget about them.” Savannah threw out, taking the last bite of stew.

“What if they forgot about us?” Annie whined. She fiddled with her phone, looking at Yoongi’s contact.

“I HIGHLY doubt they did. Especially with how Yoongi was looking at you. Besides, it doesn’t hurt to try though.”

“Easy for you to say, you didn’t get any of their numbers. You’d be freaking out like us if you had.” Jilly pouted.

“Very true, but maybe there’s a reason I didn’t get it. We don’t all need to be freaking out here.” Savannah just smiled. Annie and Jilly just stared down at their phones.

“Jilly, did you get a chance to put Kookie’s number in your phone before we left the apartment?” Annie asked, whispering so no one could overhear. The last thing they needed was someone attacking them over talking about BTS.

“I did in the taxi when we were leaving the airport.” Jilly said, sipping on her soda. Annie nodded and they both looked back at their phones. Savannah looked over at Annie’s phone and smirked.

“I’m surprised you didn’t put him down as ‘Yoongles Bear’.” Savannah chided, earning a light shove from Annie.

“Shut up! I wouldn’t do that... yet.” Annie whispered the last part, causing the other two to smirk.

“Okay, I wrote something out. Can you guys look over it first?” Jilly said, causing the other two to look at her. She handed her phone over to Annie and her and Savannah read it: ‘Hey, it’s Jilly, from the flight. I got my SIM card 😊’.

“That looks good, Jilly!” Annie smiled.

“Yeah, but I’m nervous to send it.”

“Wait, you didn’t want us to push send for you?” Savannah asked, wide-eyed and biting her lip.

“You didn’t. Please tell me you didn’t.” Jilly said, grabbing her phone from them. The message was still in the typing box. Jilly glared at Savannah, who just stuck her tongue out at her, jokingly.

“But for real, do you want us to send it for you?” Annie asked, pulling Jilly’s attention from Savannah.

“Ummm, I don’t know. How about this; You type out your message and we’ll send the messages from each other’s phones.”

“Ugh, but I don’t know what to say.” Annie said, frustrated.

“Babe, just say something along the lines that Jilly said. It’s just an introductory text. You don’t need to worry too much about it.” Savannah said, her face finally serious. Annie just nodded and typed something out. She handed the phone over to Jilly and she read it: ‘Hey, it’s Annie. I’m glad that Happy could keep you company on the flight.’ Savannah looked over and read the message as well and nodded.

“Looks good to me.” Jilly said, handing her phone over to Annie. “Okay, let’s send them on the count of 3... 1... 2... 3.” And, with that, the texts were sent.

A few minutes of anxiety-induced silence filled the space. Savannah was looking in between the two girls who were trying not to look at their phones. She knew they were both riddled with anxious thoughts so she stood up, making both of them jump out of their own minds.

“Come on, let’s go walk around. You two need some crisp fresh air.” Savannah said, grabbing her bag and walking over to the cashier, paying for their dinner while they gathered their stuff.

“Will you stop paying for stuff?!” Jilly groaned once they were outside the restaurant.

“Nope.” Savannah said, winking at Jilly. They walked down a shopping street, looking in some of the windows of the cute shops and seeing the trends and pastel colors that comes with the spring season.

“It’s supposed to warm up a little later this week. We can hopefully wear some of the cuter outfits that we brought and get some good pictures with the cherry blossoms.” Jilly said, looking at the array of blossoming trees that lined the street. One of the shop’s doors were open and playing beautiful classical music, adding to the romantic atmosphere of the street.

“That would be really nice.” Annie agreed, still looking at the cute clothes and accessories in the shops. She was excited to find some cute outfits at the shops. The styles in Korea was very different to American styles and she was happy for the change. She turned to find only Jilly looking at the trees and people walking around in cute outfits.

“Where’s Savannah?” She asked, looking through the small masses of people that bustled through the street. Jilly looked down the line of trees until she spotted a familiar head.

“There she is.” She said, walking over to where the girl stood. They found Savannah taking pictures of a lamppost’s light filtering through the cherry blossom leaves and petals.

“Savannah, I swear. Why didn’t you tell us you were stopping?!” Annie scolded her.

“I would’ve caught up eventually. I just wanted to take this picture.” Savannah said, not taking her eyes off of her camera.

“Ah,” Jilly started, “We should probably get back to take care of Happy. We’ve been gone for a few hours.” The girls looked over at Jilly, then their watches. 9:38 PM. The girls nodded and started heading back to the apartment.

The walk back was chilly but, with their bellies full of warm food, they were able to talk and enjoy the nice crisp air. They laughed and talked the whole way home. They were almost to the apartment when they stopped at a convenience store for drinks and snacks. Once they finally got back into the apartment, Happy came running up to them, excitedly.

“Hey guys, I’m gonna take her out to go potty. I’ll be right back.” Annie said, clipping Happy’s leash onto her harness and taking her outside.

While out on the apartment walking trail, a ding went off in Annie’s pocket. She pulled out her phone and squealed when she saw the name pop up on her lock screen. Nearly dropping her phone, she stuffed her phone back in her pocket. Quickly, she cleaned up after happy, threw the waste back into the bin, and hurried Happy back to the building.

Savannah and Jillian were just finishing up with putting the snacks away when Annie barreled through the door, shih tzu in tow behind her. The other two looked behind them, startled at the sudden outburst.

“Yoongi text me back!” Annie panted. Savannah and Jilly’s eyes went wide and they ran over to her.

“Really?? What did he say?” They spoke in unison.

“I don’t know, I haven’t looked yet. I freaked out too much.” Annie said, sliding out of her shoes and taking the leash off of Happy, who just trotted away.

“Well look! Let’s see what he said!” Jilly squealed. Annie pulled the phone out of her pocket and opened the message.

Savannah cupped her hands under the phone, afraid that Annie would drop it. Annie just stared at the phone, reading and rereading the message. She couldn’t believe what he was said. Jilly and Savannah couldn’t tell if she was breathing, so Jilly slipped the phone from Annie’s hands and set it on the dining room table.

“Why don’t you go get changed and wash your face, then you can respond. Okay? Give yourself time to think of something to say.” Jilly pushed Annie towards the stairs where her and Savannah followed, wanting to change into their own PJ’s, as well.

Once everyone was washed up and changed into their pajamas, Savannah heated up some hot water for tea and cocoa. Annie grabbed her phone and the girls proceeded over to the couch, curling up under blankets and sipping their drinks.

“Have you thought about what your gonna say?” Savannah asked.

“Kinda. I’m still in a state of shock.” Annie said, processing the fact that Yoongi actually text back.

“Well, why don’t you start by replying to his question?” Jilly offered. Annie just nodded her head and started typing it out... then erasing... then typing again.... and erasing again.

“Babe..” Savannah started.

“I know, but I don’t want to come off too technical, you know? Sometimes, I can’t control how I come off. I don’t want to be short or anything.” Annie ran her fingers through her hair, thinking about how to strategically text the rapper back. She started texting back and hit send before projecting the phone at Savannah, smacking into her stomach.

“Oof, what the hell!”

“I’m sorry, I’m just nervous!” Savannah rubbed her stomach while looking down at the screen and reading out the message.

“Yeah we arrived safely, haha. Savannah surprised us with a really pretty apartment in Apgujeong. Did you get home safely? 😊”

“Babe, that’s perfect. You don’t need to stress about it more.” Savannah said, placing the phone on the table. Jilly just ‘awed’ at Annie and giggled as Annie lightly smacked her arm.

“By the way, Jilly, did Jungkook text you back?” Savannah asked, leaning back against the cozy couch.

“Oh right, my phone is on silent. Let me check!” She said, reaching into her jacket pocket. She pulled out her phone and looked down at the screen.

“Not yet.” She said, a tone of sadness in her voice.

“Let’s be honest, he’s probably at the gym.” Annie shrugged, a light playfulness in her voice.

“or scarfing his face with Jin... or wine drunk again.,” Savannah chimed in, smirking. “Anyways, don’t worry about it right now. We have a full day to seize tomorrow and we should get some sleep.” Annie and Jilly nodded, draining the last of their drinks before cleaning up the mugs and heading upstairs.

Once in her room, Jilly stretched out on her bed and started watching videos when a familiar name popped up on the screen. Jilly’s eyes went wide and her phone slipped from her grip, falling right onto her face.

“Ow, shit!” She cursed, rubbing on the bridge of her nose. Sitting up, she opened the message and squealed.

“Why is he so cute???!! I can’t handle it!” Jilly moaned, flailing her legs on the bed in overwhelming excitement. She rolled around the blankets before sitting up and typing out her message: ‘Yeah, we ate Budaejjigae because it was chilly outside. It was so yummy 😋 Did you get home safely?’

With that, Jilly plugged in her phone and fell asleep after a few long minutes of thinking about the events of the last 24 hours.

—————————————————————————————————————————

This story belongs to roo-the-fox. Do not repost, please.

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chibinightowl · 5 years

Text

Down the Rabbit Hole, Chapter Six

Raise your hand if you thought I’d forgotten about this fic? Nope! Thank you everyone, and especially @tanekore, for your patience! Probably two chapters left!

Chapter One, Chapter Two, Chapter Three, Chapter Four, Chapter Five

~*~

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Tim-Cat spares a quick glance at Jason before returning his attention to the Red Knight and the Bandersnatch.

“It means I have shit luck.” Jason sighs because the universe just loves to use him as a punching bag. If the Red Queen is who he thinks she is, then there are probably going to be all kinds of other baddies to deal with on the other side of this hedge.

He and his subconscious need to sit down and have a little talk because seriously, what the fuck?

“What’s the plan, Cat? You know this place, I don’t.” Contrary to popular belief, not all his plans include kicking down the door and shooting everything that moves, although in this particular case, he’ll probably have to.

An assault rifle would be handy right now. Or better yet, an RPG.

“I’m thinking,” Tim-Cat snaps. “The Bandersnatch doesn’t like the rain any more than I do, so it’s possible we can just wait him out. Once he retreats, it’ll be just the Red Knight.”

“Seems like using both of them is overkill.”

“It is, which leads me to believe we’re expected.”

“After what I did to the Jubjub bird, I sure fucking hope so.”

The Cheshire Cat looks like he’s about to reply when a piercing scream rips through the night, louder even than the storm thundering overhead.

“YER NOT GETTIN’ AWAY THAT EASY! RED KNIGHT! FIND THAT BRAT AND BRING HIM TA ME!”

Jason blinks hard and tries to shake the ringing from his ears. There’s no doubt about it.

The Red Queen is Harley Quinn.

Tim-Cat’s ears have flattened against his head. “I hate when she does that.”

“Yeah, she’s shrill in my world too.” And completely nuts, but ever since Harley gave her puddin’ the big fuck you, she seems to have settled down; rumor has it that she’s in a relationship with Poison Ivy now. Tim’s been meaning to track that down and see if there’s any validity to it. Jason doesn’t care in the slightest.

At least until it impacts him in some way.

They watch as the Red Knight silently dismounts, running a hand along the sleek fur of the Bandersnatch’s back. The touch speaks of ownership, rather like how Damian behaves around Titus. He disappears through the hedge, but not before another lightning flash reveals the knives sheathed on his thighs and the sword strapped to his back. Jason is no stranger to a knife fight; however, he’s a bit rusty with swords. His best bet is to take this guy out at long range.

Still, Jason frowns at the way he moves, his long strides familiar. Whoever is under that armored helmet, it’s not the Joker. But who else could it be? A fighter for sure and one he knows well, which narrows the list of possibilities down quite a bit.

The Bandersnatch backs himself up so that the hedge provides shelter from the rain. Water sprays everywhere as he shakes, then settles back into a crouch. His eyes gleam red as lightning streaks overhead.

“Do you think the brat the Red Queen spoke of is Tweedle Dum?” Tim-Cat asks in a low tone. His hair and tail are soaking wet. “He’s quite nimble, much more so than his brother.”

“If this Tweedle is anything like my brother Dick, then he can probably contort himself out of just about anything.” Jason unsnaps one of the holsters strapped to his thigh and draws out his favorite gun. It’s time to get down to business. “What are some of the Bandersnatch’s weak points?”

He purposefully doesn’t call it a cat. His companion probably wouldn’t like the comparison. And people say he has no tact.

Tim-Cat sniffs. “I do a lot of crazy things but getting up close and personal with the Bandersnatch is not one of them.”

Jason sighs, wishing he were anywhere but here. “Okay, here it goes.”

Crouching in the brush, he takes careful aim. With the clouds and rain, visibility sucks, and he wishes that he’d been wearing his hood when he got gassed because then he’d at least have infrared and night vision in the display. Then again, if he’d been wearing his goddamned helmet, none of this would be happening in the first place.

Hindsight’s a bitch.

The Bandersnatch is a pale blur under the shadows of the hedge and Jason waits, needing to time this perfectly.

Lightning streaks across the sky and Jason fires, the retort loud as the gun expels gases from burnt gunpowder and the bullet exits the barrel at supersonic speeds.

Out of nowhere, small figure suddenly uses the back of the Bandersnatch as a springboard to vault out into the open.

It’s Tweedle Dick.

The boy staggers as he hits the ground, some injury preventing him from nailing a landing the real Dick could do in his sleep, but it doesn’t stop him from trying to run for cover.

At the same time, the Bandersnatch cries out in pain as his eye explodes, blood running down the gaping wound. He rears up and shakes his massive head, crying out again before collapsing to the ground.

“Shit!” Tim-Cat doesn’t waste anymore words. As soon as the Tweedle appears, he’s already moving, racing across the grass to grab the boy before disappearing entirely.

Well, that didn’t go exactly as Jason thought it would, but whatever, he’s got the opening he needs. He bursts out of the underbrush and books it for the hedge. The cries of the Bandersnatch must have alerted the castle and the Red Knight has to be on his way back.

If it were Jason’s kitty that just got shot, he sure as fuck would be.

The big beast is still breathing as he squeezes past it, its bulk mostly blocking the pathway carved through the hedge. It’s tempting to shoot again to make sure it stays down, but Jason is fairly sure he’ll need every bullet he has when he faces whatever else this night brings him.

On the other side of the hedge, he emerges just as lightning cracks again, illuminating an altogether too familiar sight.

Arkham Asylum.

It’s no castle, but it doesn’t need to be. The old Gothic building looks like it belongs in a horror flick. Jason hugs the dark hedge, using it for cover as he scopes out the area. An ill-maintained lawn full of dead weeds lead up to the main entry. From the front, everything appears the same as what he’s used to when he’s wide awake.

And if that’s the case, then screw going in the front door. There’s a side entrance and a back door, as well as a rooftop hatch that leads into what’s still the attic.

Thank fuck he has his grapple gun. It’ll save a lot of time.

The lightning flashes again and in the ensuing darkness, Jason runs across the lawn, swinging wide to avoid the main path. Thunder finally booms overhead, and the rain falls harder. The weather sucks, but it provides him with the needed cover to make it to the side of the Asylum. Another flash and the grapple line shoots upward, catching on the edge of the roof.

Back home, breaking into Arkham isn’t quite so easy, but he knows better than to let his guard down. He’s about to deal with Harley Quinn and considering just how fucked up his subconscious is, that means the Joker can’t be far.

On the roof, the hatch is exactly as he remembers it, a heavy steel plate that’s a bitch and a half to raise on his own. The opening is a gaping maw of utter blackness and Jason can’t suppress the shiver that runs down his spine. This fall isn’t going to be like his last one, he just knows it.

He digs into his jacket for a glow stick. Cracking it, a lurid blue light appears and he drops it down through the hatch. Other members of his family use green ones, but he refuses to. The color connotation messes with his head.

The glow stick doesn’t go far and lands on the wooden floor of the attic.

Well, guess he was wrong then. Jason lowers himself through the opening, hanging on to the edge with his gloves before dropping the rest of the way through. It’s only a few feet and he lands with a soft thud that raises dust.

He picks up the glow stick and looks around. No one has been up here in years, not with the layer of dirt and grime everywhere. Formerly white sheets cover unused furniture and there are stacks of boxes and trunks scattered around with no rhyme or reason.

Orienting himself, Jason picks his way toward the back of the attic where the stairwell leading down into the upper level of the Asylum should be. The dust is almost overwhelming, so he searches for his rebreather, quietly berating himself for not thinking of it sooner.

In fact, he really needs to get his head in the game because now that Tweedle Dick apparently managed to mostly rescue himself, he’s got one less concern to deal with. All that matters now is the vorpal sword.

The rebreather helps and he’s at the top of the stairs in no time. As he pockets the device again, a sudden thought has him pause.

What does the sword even look like?

Jason wants to kick himself in the ass for not asking the White Queen or the Cheshire Cat when he had the chance. Knowing his luck, there will be hundreds of swords in here and he’ll have to test each one to see if it goes snicker-snack like the poem promises.

“’Twas brillig, and the slithy toves did gyre and gimble in the wabe; All mimsy were the borogroves, and the mome raths outgrabe…” he recites under his breath as he starts his descent. The nonsensical words had always stuck with him and he remembers what Tim-Cat said earlier about the mome raths disappearing from the White Knight’s old home.

His hand is on the doorknob when he hears the quiet sneeze from somewhere behind him.

Instincts kick in and Jason has a gun in hand, thumbing off the safety as he whirls around to face whatever danger that just announced itself.

Tim-Cat is crouched at the top of the stairs, rubbing his nose. He sneezes again and his ears twitch in agitation. “I hate dust.”

Jason points the gun at the ceiling and clicks the safety back into place. “Jesus fuck, Cat. What the hell are you doing here?”

“Helping you, remember?” he replies testily.

“I thought you’d stay with Tweedle Dum,” Jason says. He doesn’t want to admit that he hadn’t fully believed the Cheshire Cat would put his hide on the line to help him find the sword. “Transporting two kiddos in one day has to take a lot outta ya.”

“It does.” Tim-Cat rises and gracefully descends the stairs, stopping on the last one so that they’re eye level. His tail is noticeably angled up and away the floor, still dripping from the rain. “But I said I would try and protect you while you search for the sword. I meant it and rescuing Tweedle Dum hasn’t changed that.”

There are a number of things Jason can say, first and foremost that this is a dream and he can’t be killed, but the little niggling doubt in the back of his mind asks if he’s absolutely certain about that. Second, and he really doesn’t want to think about this, is that everything he’s experienced since he got a face full of that gas is real and that damned sword is his only way back.

Instead, he takes the time-honored path favored by all Bats. Avoidance.

“How’s the kid?” he asks, holstering the gun.

Tim-Cat shrugs. “Alive. Saying something about a trap before he passed out, but we already knew this. I don’t know how he was even able to move. He’s got broken ribs and his foot shouldn’t be able point in the direction it is.”

“Adrenaline is an amazing thing.” Jason rests a hand on the doorknob, then asks one more question. “How did you find me? I thought you didn’t teleport around here?”

“I don’t. But in case you haven’t figured it out yet, I do more than just vanish and reappear elsewhere. I can sense you, which makes it very easy to track you, even up the side of the castle and into a dusty attic.”

Jason recognizes the less than subtle rebuke for what it is. The Cat is clearly ruffled by more than just the rain and he remembers his words from earlier that were pretty much an invitation for him to stay. An image of his Tim flashes before his eyes, one with that devious little smirk that never bodes well for anyone (including him).

It doesn’t stop him from releasing the knob again. Jason grips the back of Tim’s neck, gloves catching in the wet strands of hair. “I’d ask if that makes me special, but we both know the answer is no. It’s just something you do.”

“You are such a jackass.”

“Like you’re any better, Cat.” Jason punctuates the statement with a kiss, capturing those lips that look and feel just like Tim’s. If he has to stay here, if he’s completely trapped (if this isn’t a dream), then he could possibly find some semblance of happiness in these arms.

That is if the pain of what he’s lost doesn’t drive him mad. Tim.

If there’s ever been a shred of doubt that he loves Tim Drake, it vanishes from his mind.

Jason draws back and releases the Cheshire Cat. “Come on. Time to find that sword.”

As they exit the attic, neither one notices the ruby red eyes of a dark green lizard slowly blinking after them.

~*~*~

The upper levels of the Asylum are a bust, not that it’s really any surprise. The Arkham of Jason’s memory uses the above ground levels for offices, treatment rooms, and guest facilities. Everything is all nice and shiny to divert attention from the real dangers below ground. This version seems to be following the same pattern, a fact which puts Jason more and more on edge the lower they get.

Although that could be the complete lack of noise coming from anywhere besides the storm still raging outside.

Even Tim-Cat is on edge, ears and eyes darting all over. But it��s his tail that reveals just how agitated he is as it lashes from side to side.

“Simmer down, Cat,” Jason says after he almost shuts a door on Tim’s precious tail.

“I hate this,” the Cheshire Cat replies in a low tone. “If I dared to use my power here, we’d have found the sword by now.”

“Yeah, I’m sure you’re right. But at least this way keeps us from having to face the Red Knight. He’s probably pissed about what I did to his pet.”

“I’d be pissed too if someone shot me in the face.”

Jason shrugs, not wanting to get into it. He did what he had to like the good little soldier he no longer is.

Their search of the upper floors complete, they cautiously pick their way toward the stairs leading down to the main level. Jason kneels a few feet back from the balustrade and listens intently. There’s some light coming from below, the source still undiscernible from up here. What disturbs him though is that his memory of reality is now distorted because what he sees isn’t the main entrance for Arkham. Wide and expansive, the open space with its fine wood panels and vaulted ceiling belongs right out of Gone With the Wind or, worse yet, Wayne Manor.

The sudden change is unsettling, and Jason is reminded yet again that his subconscious is a dick.

The silence drags on.

“Have you ever been here before?” Jason asks, inching his way closer to the rail.

“A couple of times,” Tim-Cat replies. He hunkers down beside him and peers into the shadowy twilight below. “There’s a parlor just off the foyer where the Red Queen would make us wait whenever the White Queen visited. I remember a fireplace and some hideous paintings. From what it looks like, the parlor door is open and that’s where the light is coming from.”

Jason’s memory helpfully provides an image of the guest parlor at the front of the manor that Alfred keeps pristine. No one is allowed in there on pain of no dessert unless guests were present, and the really good manners needed to make an appearance.

To him, as well as Dick, having to sit in that room while Brucie did his thing was a punishment. Thank god he doesn’t have to go through that anymore. As the only little bird in residence, that falls to Damian now.

“Are you ready?” Tim-Cat asks, tearing Jason from his thoughts.

“I really wish I had one of Tim’s drones on me right now.” And his hood while he’s at it because for all he knows, the Red Knight has been quietly stalking them from room to room this entire time and is just waiting to say boo when they head down those stairs.

“I don’t know what that is, but it’s not too late to change our approach.” Tim-Cat shuffles a little closer to the stairs. “We can still backtrack.”

Jason is about to reply when something breaks the long silence. Wild and maniacal, it’s a sound that sends chills down his spine and a flash of terror in his heart, a reaction he doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to fully suppress.

HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA

Tim-Cat hisses and scrambles back, ears pressed flat against his skull and tail stiff from fear. “No. Oh, no. No, no, no. She’s released him.”

There is no doubt Jason knows exactly who he’s talking about, but he still has to check. “Him who?”

“The Jabberwocky.”

#chibinightowl writes #Jason Todd #Tim Drake #JayTim #Jason in Wonderland

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pixieungerstories · 5 years

Text

Darkness - 3

violence warnings

In the last two months, Brie had settled into a routine. Weeding early in the morning before it got too hot. The flower beds were looking awesome. Brunch in her cottage around 10 when the sun was at its worst. Followed by nap since she got up around five. Mowing or pruning happened after two in the afternoon. The orchards were looking … better, but if she were honest that wasn’t saying much. They had merely gone from awful to shabby.

She had yet to see any signs of life from the house, although keeping in mind Mr Lynn’s story about the owner, she had respectfully not looked for any. She knew he was watching her, at least some of the time. Any time she did anything near the big tree at the front of the house, she came home to find an email waiting for her. It got to the point where she would let Mr Lynn know what she was planning to do near it and why the day before so she could deal with any objections that came up ahead of time.

Mostly she left it alone.

She had found a stone bench in one of the orchards where she could stop for water or snack breaks. It was surrounded by apple trees and creepy statues, but Brie was mostly able to ignore them.

Artistically, they were very good, the problem was the subject matter. There was a marble angel worthy of any museum, except he was engaged in sexual activities with tentacle monsters. Prometheus and the eagle, traditional enough, but Prometheus had one hell of a stiffy and was arched back over the rock as though he were enjoying the experience, complete with the O face. All the statues human sized and clearly enjoying themselves, it was just that they were engaged in all manner of taboo activities from the three men one high five away from an Eiffel tower to the three ladies engaged in cannibalism of a young man (complete with spilling entrails) as well as a fair amount of beastiality. The bench itself was big enough to be a sarcophagus, but wasn’t a box. It was a marble slab with vines carved into the edge resting on two pillars, which (in keeping with the theme) were a small naked man and woman bent double under the weight of it.

She supposed that when they were carved, they had been incredibly risqué, but these days a quick google search could find you much worse content. In the meantime, she felt it was her job to clear the ivy away. After all, maybe the owner would want to sell them at some point. She was sure there was someone on the internet who would be interested.

Supper was always in the pub. By then she needed some human contact. The pub was a family business, even it was a an odd family, and had the slightly dorky name: A Wing and A Prayer. The barmen were the three oldest brothers, who only ever went by their nicknames as they appeared to be named after turtles, Mike, Gabe and Rafe. The waitstaff was sisters and cousins to the barmen, Dina, Manny, Joe, Tabby and, of course, Charmeine.

Tabby had taken Brie under her wing and was always encouraging her to try new things and consider some community college courses. “C’mon, Gabriela! You need something to fall back on we you don’t want to garden any more.”

Brie would just laugh and shake her head. “I’m saving hard. When I don’t want to garden anymore, I’ll figure out school then.”

But tonight there was no visiting with the staff. The main road in town was getting new tarmac and the pub was full of road crew. Brie was late getting in and all the tables were full. Oh well, she could always sit at the bar. The food was divine, as always, but her enjoyment was rather spoiled by the dust covered asshat sitting next to her. She concentrated on ignoring him. She just finished her dinner and her drink and wanted to leave.

It was full dark out by the time Brie left. She figured she must be really dehydrated because that one beer she had nursed through supper was hitting her hard. She was glad she had brought her bike because there was no way she should be driving.

She was barely out of own when she got off the bike to walk. Her balance was shit. Beer never hit her this hard. By the time she had reached the corner of iron fence marking the edge of the property she was hardly able to walk.

That’s when the truck pulled up.

The loser from the bar got out.

“You almost got away on me.” he laughed. ‘I’m surprised you are still upright.”

And just like that, she wasn’t. She fell down over her bicycle and felt hands dragging her away from it. She was laying on her belly on the dirt road and there wasn’t anything she could do about it. The world was spinning. She felt sick. A boot was wedged under her shoulder and she was flipped onto her back. The moon was full and way too bright. She squinted, the light hurting her eyes.

Someone was undoing her pants. Brie tried to bat the hands away. She was barely able to lift her arms. The man was silhouetted in the headlights of his truck.

Her pants were gone now. He pulled out a pocket knife and flipped it open, slicing down her shirt and through her bra. He pushed her knees up and apart.

Brie was barely able to roll her head to the side. On the other side of the fence the woods were full of eyeshine.

The truck lights went out.

The weight from on top of her was suddenly gone.

Someone was screaming. It wasn’t her. They were screaming a lot. The was a wet splat and the screaming got more desperate. The screaming was replaced by someone pleading stop.

A large, warm, slightly damp and sticky hand cupped her face and turned her to face back at the night sky which swirled overhead like a Van Gogh.

A face appeared in her field of vision.

It was the devil. Big horns, red skin, glowing yellow eyes with wide pupils like a cats. Brie was dimly aware that wasn’t right. She managed a pathetic whimper.

The devil clicked his tongue at her and grinned revealing sharp teeth. He caressed her face, his claws gently pricking at her skin.

Brie shivered and closed her eyes. The last of her clothes were pulled away, then she was lifted on the dirt road and cuddled against a warm chest. The devil began to walk, she felt where he stepped easily over the iron fence. That was wrong. Why was the wrong? No. NO! He shouldn’t be here.

A deep bass voice rumbled, “I am taking you safely home, my lady.” She was pulled tighter against the chest. She could hear a deep slow heart beat.

--------

Mr Lynn arrived at the scene only a little behind the police, but ahead of the ambulance. He got to explain that it was his client that had heard the screaming and called the police. He got to watch the junior constable be sick in the bushes. He tried to ignore the man who had been disemboweled and whose entrails were currently decorating the fence. He was quite surprised by that, the master must be in a generous mood. Given the phone call he had received he hadn’t expect the man to still be alive.

He also got to identify the bicycle and women’s clothing as belonging to the grounds keeper. He accompanied the second police cruiser to the cottage and found Ms Moreno curled up, naked, on her front step. Mr Lynn narrowed his eyes, but the superficial scratches covering her body could have been explained by a naked sprint through the woods.

-----

Brie woke up in a hospital. She knew it was a hospital by the smell. Her head hurt and, after she slammed her hand with the finger heart monitor into her face, so did her eye. Actually everything hurt. Someone hurried over and pried open her eyelid to shine a light in her eye. Rude!

“You wake, pumpkin?” Iggy asked.

“No,” Brie grumbled.

Another voice asked, “Do you know where you are, Ms Moreno?”

Brie shook her head, it was easier than talking just now.

“Do you know what happened?”

Brie tried to concentrate. “I fell off my bike. No… I fell off the ground and my bike fell on me. There was screaming and the devil was there.”

The voices whispered to each other, “She is still drugged, but that might be all you get.”

“That isn’t good enough, we need a description of who did this.”

“Try again in four hours.”

“That’s a long wait, doc.”

“That’s a lot of drugs in her system, officer.”

“She still made it home.”

“You didn’t see how much gravel we picked out of her back. She didn’t make it home on her own. Someone took her home.”

“Right, her knight in shining armour strung up her attacker and brought her safely home.”

“Not entirely. She had been dragged through the woods.”

Brie managed to pry her eyes open, “What happened?”

Iggy opened his mouth to speak but the constable interrupted, “You need to be able to give a statement before we can tell you that.”

“Hurts.”

“We can’t give you any painkillers until the drugs are clear of your system.”

“I don’t take drugs. Hadda beer. One.”

Iggy rubbed her shoulder. That hurt too, “We know, pumpkin, no one thinks you were taking drugs.”

Brie nodded and went back to sleep.

------

Iggy drove her home the next day, after she had given her statement. She felt embarrassed and useless. “The devil did it,” was not a rational thing to say, so she had just left that part out.

The man from the bar had confessed to drugging her. He admitted he was planning a sexual assault. He couldn’t describe the man who had attacked him either. She was going to stay with Iggy and Tessa at least until the stitches came out. The scratches that covered most of her body were already mostly healed, but there was one that was going to scar.

The idea that someone was coming for her was worrying. The police could find no sign of the attacker. Mr Lynn was very supportive. Her anonymous employer was paying her wages until she was able to come back to work and promised her a severance package if she chose not to.

Her employer was very concerned for her well being, she was told.

Her family didn’t want her going back to Morning Side, and the whole week she was waiting for the stitches to come out Iggy lobbied hard for her to quit. The townspeople came to visit, bring flowers and food and assurances that nothing like this had ever happened in their town before.

The thing she didn’t know how to explain was that she wasn’t afraid. She knew she should be, but none of it seemed real. The devil did not come to save her from her rapist. The only logical explanation was that person or persons unknown had come for HIM, wearing halloween masks, and she had gotten away while they were settling whatever score they had with him.

That was the story the police were going with. It was the only rational explanation. Between the drugging and what had to be a halloween mask there was no way for Brie to identify them. The incident was widely publicized, including a bad picture of her from a friend’s facebook page. In the city people looked at her and whispered. If she went back to her cottage, she wouldn’t have people staring at her. She wouldn’t have to see the look on her family's faces every time they saw her.

She hadn’t told anyone she remembered being carried. That made about as much sense as the idea that she was rescued by the devil. But ultimately she knew that if the person who had gone after her attacker had wanted to hurt her, he would have done it. She had been completely at his mercy. And yet, she hadn’t been raped. Or injured that severely. Most of the scratches were superficial and gone without a trace before she even got out of the hospital. The last one was an odd unpleasant shape, but the doctors had assured her that with care the scar would fade and become unnoticeable.

Since who ever it was hadn’t hurt her at the time, she believed that there was no point in him coming back for her later.

There was a peace she had found in the cottage. The quiet. The trees. She missed it. Missed her home. Missed her garden. And it was her garden. She tended it. She never saw anyone else in it. It would be good to have something to keep her busy.

#terato #monster #monster boyfriend

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qwertythepopstarian08 · 5 years

Text

Grey Area Finale

Okay! I finally finished this fanfic.

Thanks to everyone who stuck around all this time. I worked hard to create a satisfying end, and I hope this lives up the the expectations.

Don’t worry; Feeling Blue is still in production. I just wanted to get the prequel out of the way so that everything would make sense in the last portion of that story.

Hope you all enjoy!

Fresh clumsily navigated the hospital hallways, keeping an eye out for the staff. He had a sneaking suspicion that he wasn’t supposed to be out of those restraints, let alone wandering freely around the building.

They’d tied him up for a reason; even if he hadn’t hurt anyone, he was pink, and he was dangerous. He’d proven that by annihilating that poor pastry.

He didn’t want to get in any more trouble, yet the painfully empty sensation of hunger gnawed at him, driving him to keep going. He was painfully aware of the throbbing ache in his back, suddenly wishing he’d just asked Zone to buy him something.

As he aimlessly turned another corner, he found himself sighing. He was here now, and it was a bit too late to go back to sleep, so, he might as well find his way around the place. Chances were, he’d be stuck in this hospital for awhile.

Fresh’s eyes dimmed in brightness, reacting to his lethargy. That odd energy from earlier had faded, leaving only an itchy, irritated emptiness. His internal song was sluggish; he could feel the slow beat thrumming in his veins. It was too quiet…

Fresh continued down the empty hallways for what seemed like an eternity. He could tell, from the soft, warm light filtering in from the windows, that it was afternoon, right after school let out, if he guessed right.

A small smile spread across his features as he realized that Zone must have rushed over just to see him. Even if he was in the hospital closest to the school, it would still take about twenty minutes to walk. Zone was a great friend, even if they were a bit bothersome at times.

Fresh distracted himself thinking of them, finding himself wandering around for a bit, aimless. It wasn’t until he felt that empty, gnawing sensation in his core that he snapped out of it, looking up to realize where he’d ended up.

Finally, the pink shape arrived at one of the lobbies, where elevator doors lined the walls, and lounge chairs and vending machines were found in abundance. His eyes lit up again, his energy revitalizing as he looked around.

And the best part… it was empty. There were no shapes to bother him…. He was alone.

Laughing in euphoric glee, Fresh ran towards the nearest vending machine, his eyes scanning the contents. It was packed with individually wrapped goodies. Most of it was health-conscious snacks, like granola bars and the like, although a few boxes of jelly beans, bags of chips, and chocolate bars were also visible.

Fresh dug into his pocket for change, his gaze set on a particularly sugary candy bar. Sweet Radiance, it was called. It was comprised of dried fruit bits, suspended in a caramel and dark chocolate shell shaped like the Treeangle. The chocolate itself had cinnamon and brown sugar mixed in as well, giving it a complex, layered flavor that Fresh loved. While the now-pink shape didn’t particularly care for the Treeangle itself, one good part of the annual festival was the overabundance of this specific candy bar.

Fresh practically shoved the money into the machine, his fingers flying to input the code for the candy, as well as a banana nut muffin and a soda. It wasn’t the healthiest lunch, but he was starved, and he felt he deserved a snack after having been practically comatose for what could have been weeks.

The muffin and the soda fell down accordingly, although as Fresh watched the candy bar with hungry eyes, he noticed as the wrapper began to snag on the spiral holder. Just as he feared, his favorite snack became lodged on the metal piece, unable to fall down the slot for claim. The shape’s eye twitched, his grin slowly falling as he shakily raised a hand, tapping the glass.

Of course, there was a huge sign just next to the machine that read in all caps, “DON’T SHAKE THE VENDING MACHINES.”

Fresh hesitated, continuing to knock on the glass, hoping that he could ease the candy bar off of the hook it was trapped on. His irritation blossomed into anger, and he felt his agitated pink energy spike. He grabbed the edges of the machine, starting to shake it violently. The candy bar was stubbornly hooked to the metal rungs, having snagged by the plastic wrapper’s edge.

Fresh couldn’t care less about the rules; he was getting what he paid for. He stopped shaking the machine, glaring up at it, before he drew his fist back, pink light collecting in his claws. A frustrated growl left him, and he spent a moment staring at the vending machine, almost daring the candy to fall…

What with his luck, it’d probably fall for free for the next shape to buy something, and he’d be deprived of something he’d paid for while someone else got a freebie. He couldn’t stand the thought of that, his eyes glowing a harsh pink as he prepared to shatter the glass of the machine, to take all the food for himself… He wasn’t that hungry, but the notion itself was enough to make him grin maliciously.

“Excuse me,” a voice suddenly rang out, snapping Fresh out of his enraged state. “The sign says… don’t shake the machines. I assume that that includes punching, but I could be wrong.”

He turned to see one of the doctors, a golden hexagon who wore ivy framed glasses. She was pretty tall, even compared to Fresh’s augmented height, looking down at him over her glasses, a small frown marring her features.

Looking up at the doctor, Fresh scowled.

“Yeah, I don’t need sarcasm today, buddy.” He turned his attention to the machine. “I just woke up, and I’m starvin’, if ya hadn’t guessed.”

The hexagon nodded, smiling in an odd, passive-aggressive manner. The young shape fidgeted; he didn’t like that smile.

“I assumed so. In fact, Fresh Blixer-Beats …” Fresh tensed upon hearing his full name. He looked up at the doctor, eyes wide. “I believe you should be in bed right about now… it isn’t exactly safe for a newly corrupted shape to roam free to… attack the vending machines.”

The hexagon walked over to the machine, raising a hand. For a moment, Fresh thought she was going to hit the unit, although she merely smiled at him in that mildly irritated manner, lightly tapping the side of the vending machine.

As if on cue, the candy bar fell down, and the doctor bent down to retrieve it, handing the Sweet Radiance chocolate to Fresh, who gaped. His eyes darted from the doctor to the candy, and he felt a tiny smile grace his features, his eyes sparkling.

“Now, see what patience can do? Try to keep an open mind.” The doctor patted Fresh on the head, ruffling his tuft of hair. “Pink can limit one’s ability to maintain their composure, so I suggest trying out some calming exercises.”

The hexagon doctor stifled a warm chuckle as she walked past Fresh.

“By the way, your parents will be coming to pick you up in about an hour. You woke up just in time, kid. You’re going home.”

The car was stuffy with the smell of dust and chocolate. Fresh nearly gagged when the scent hit him, as soon as he opened the door. After weeks of breathing sterile hospital air, his lungs were unaccustomed to other smells, although he mused that part of the sensory overload could have been from his new, pink state.

Speaking of being pink...

His mother refused to meet his gaze, although she smiled warmly, obviously glad that he was okay. She was naturally pink, and Fresh thought he saw a bit of guilt in her gaze, hidden behind her shining, dark magenta irises.

As he climbed into the car, scrambling to the middle seat, he found himself sighing, hoping that things would return to normal. For a long time, his mom refused to start the car, and Fresh could see her gripping the steering wheel with an increasingly tight hold.

“M-mom? You alright?” He couldn’t stand the gravelly tone of his voice; his volume dropped to a whisper. “I’m fine… really.”

His dad glanced at him from the mirror, his golden eyes full of poorly concern.

“You sure about that, Fresh-Beat?”

Fresh groaned at the nickname, crossing his arms. He couldn’t stop the grin that spread across his face, however, stifling a chuckle.

“Yeah, I’m okay! Seriously!” He sneered, holding up his claws, which flickered pink in the dim afternoon light. “I mean, at least I’m not grey anymore!”

Fresh looked away, crumpling up a candy wrapper in his pocket. He was still hungry… starved, even… but other than that, he felt much better. He no longer felt that… anger. For awhile back there, he’d wanted to punch something. A small, vindictive part of himself had even wished for a disaster to happen, he was so angry at the world. He was just tired, homesick, and hungry.

He sighed, closing his eyes. “I just wanna go home…”

He felt the car shake a bit as the engine stuttered to life. His mother breathed softly, “Fresh…” He looked up to see her turned around, staring hollowly through him. “I’m sorry. I should have warned you about that cave. This never would have happened if I’d just told you.”

Fresh’s eyes widened, illuminating the car. “You knew?!” He blinked owlishly, his eyes shining with a pinkish hue. “I could’ve done this sooner! I mean, yeah it hurt, but I’m happy to finally be pink! It’s better than being powerless.”

His mother gained a dark tone to her voice as she hissed, “No.” She calmed slightly, sighing while shaking her head. “You don’t understand. Pink is a curse. I’m sorry you even have it in your bloodline…”

His dad added, “Listen to your mother, sport. There’s a reason why pink is harmful…”

Fresh felt tears prickle at his eyes, his face becoming flushed. That anger from earlier started to return, and he felt himself shaking, gripping at the car seats.

“But why? They never tell why pink is bad! How am I supposed to be afraid of it?!” His voice was breaking, his eyes flaring wildly. He felt the fabric of the seats tear under his claws, and he stuffed his hands into his pockets, shuddering. “You never tell me anything…”

The pink circle huffed, “Fresh, you’re too young to understand.” She turned back to face the front, preparing to drive. “It’s much too complex for a child your age-.”

She was cut off when Fresh abruptly shrieked, his eyes glowing a furious magenta.

“WHAT IS IT? DO YOU THINK I’M GONNA MURDER SOMEONE BECAUSE I’M PINK?!” He punched the door, snarling. “YOU’RE JUST LIKE EVERYONE ELSE!”

His dad tried to calm him. “Fresh-Beat, that’s not what your mother meant.”

“I don’t care! That’s what everyone else says! And I nearly hurt Zone; that’s why they tied me up! I… I’m a monster…”

Suddenly… he fell silent. He felt tears rolling down his face, and he cupped his hands to his mouth. Eyes wide, he stuttered, “I… I didn’t mean… I didn’t…”

He trailed off as he heard his mother mutter, “Your friend’s outside. You should go see them.”

His dad agreed, “Just give us a minute, sport.” The yellow triangle’s voice was strained as he spoke, trying to deescalate the situation. “You’re not in trouble.”

Fresh felt his internal song skyrocket in tempo. He growled lowly, before ripping the seatbelt off, throwing the door open. He slid out, breaking into a run across the pavement as soon as his feet hit the ground. Sure enough, he saw Zone walking out. The red circle’s gaze was cast towards the ground, their hands in their pockets. They seemed distracted as they walked, their path almost veering to the side a few times before they righted themselves.

The squares floating at the sides of their head were folded down, occasionally flicking in the breeze. They were thoroughly distracted, so they didn’t even see it coming when Fresh tackled them.

“Zone!”

The circle looked up just as Fresh launched himself at them, letting out a frightened yelp. Their glasses were sent flying, cracking against the concrete as both shapes staggered back. Fresh wasn’t very heavy; he’d certainly lost a few pounds during his stay at the hospital. Zone was considerably strong for their size, only stumbling back a few feet from the impact.

“Woah, hey, Fresh!” They chuckled as the pink shape pulled away, looking him over. “You okay, buddy? Your eyes are lookin’ a bit red.”

Fresh found himself nodding, although he was anything but. His eyes stung with barely suppressed tears, but he bluffed, “Nah, I’m fine…” He wiped his eyes on his sleeve. A bit of anxiety raced through him as the fabric came away slightly rose-tinted. “It… it’s probably just a side effect… from being pink...”

Zone snickered, “If ya say so, dude…” They bent down to pick up their glasses, holding up the cracked frames in the light. “Ya did a number on them… so I guess I’ll see ya later…”

The young shape felt a bit of sadness rush through him, before he realized that Zone had made a joke, playfully punching them in the arm. They instinctively recoiled, a bit of fear glinting in their eyes. Fresh frowned.

“What?”

Zone just glanced at his glowing claws, and he got the message, awkwardly stuffing his hands into his pockets. He looked away, his happiness draining away as his expression became solemn.

“I… I was there for awhile, huh?”

He didn’t want to think about how long he’d been unconscious. How long the pink had to settle in his body, for its corruption to become apart of him. He was no longer a grey shape… not even the hospital could fix him. He didn’t particularly mind his new status, but even his parents were apprehensive around him… as if he was dangerous.

In a way, he was; he’d already proven himself capable of causing damage to others. His powers were inherently destructive, and his aggression made it easy for him to snap.

Zone seemed to understand his discomfort, their voice dropping to a whisper as they affirmed, “Yeah….” They chuckled softly, bitterly, even. “You… you really worried us, dude. And when you did wake up, you weren’t all... there.”

Fresh felt a twinge of worry go through his core, and he perked up, his eyes filling with a startled pink light. He didn’t remember waking up until today. Was it possible that he’d somehow lost control? He vaguely remembered Logic Gatekeeper’s lessons on corruption; once a shape was blighted with the pink, they would often lose their mind and turn violent.

“What do you mean? Was I… did I hurt you?”

If he’d hurt them… his fears would only be confirmed. He began to panic, his eyes starting to sting with the beginnings of tears. He didn’t want to be a monster… he didn’t want to be…

He looked back to Zone, frowning. “Did you get hurt, Zone? Please... don’t tell me… that I…”

The red circle shook their head wildly, raising their hands.

“No no no… of course not! The restraints were just a precaution… you didn’t actually try and attack. The most you did was complain about being hungry…”

All the tension in Fresh’s frame dropped, and his shudders ceased. He blinked owlishly, before an incredulous, relieved laugh left him.

“Zone… ya have no idea how happy I am to hear that…” He chuckled bitterly. “No idea…”

The circle shrugged. “I had a feeling.” A crooked grin spread across his face, and he chuckled softly. “I know ya don’t wanna hurt anybody… not on purpose. ‘S’a shame the doc didn’t seem to get it.”

They were both silent for a few minutes, before Fresh heard the car’s horn blare. He jolted, blinking in confusion.

Zone chuckled, “Looks like it’s time for ya to go home.” They stuffed their hands into their pockets, humming.

With a flicker of light, the circle summoned forth a glowing red construct in the shape of a skateboard. Fresh internally grimaced, envious. Most of his peers had long since grasped the ability to create solid magic. Before becoming pink, he was forced to watch as everyone around him advanced, praised by their instructor on their prowess. The only skill Fresh had to his name was his natural talent for music, although this was often overlooked in favor of the powers of other shapes.

Snapping him from his angered thoughts, Zone hummed, hopping onto their board.

“It’s cool. Catch ya later?”

The pink shape nodded robotically, and Zone began to roll away down the inclined street, letting gravity propel them. They were going pretty slowly, but as Fresh watched, they quickly became nothing more than a blur on the horizon.

He squinted; maybe it was just his eyes. His depth perception had been a bit off ever since the incident, and at times, his eyes stung, watering almost excessively. Blinking the tears from his eyes, Fresh reached up to wipe his face, frowning as he saw that his sleeve once again came away pinkish. He hummed in thought, beginning to walk towards the car.

Irritated with his sluggish pace, his mother slammed her fist on the horn, a blaring honk echoing throughout the parking lot. Fresh felt his heart quicken at the noise, and he rushed forward, feeling a bit embarrassed. People were trying to get some rest, after all. He thought it to be unfair to the others if he got to rest for all that time, and his mom was running the risk of disturbing them.

Frowning, he cupped his hands to his mouth and hollered, “I’m coming! Stop honkin’ the horn!”

The pink shape quickened his pace, his mind swimming with conflicted thoughts.

Everyone seemed to fear him. Even his parents were apprehensive around him now. They were happy to see him, but the stigma of pink shapes overpowered their concern. Fresh was reassured by the fact that he hadn’t harmed anyone, but he couldn’t deny the violent urges that were beginning to flare up from his core. Although he’d always had pink in his blood, it wasn’t until that infernal Treeangle shard decided to lodge itself in his head that he realized how powerful it could be.

He sighed, opening the car door. The dim afternoon light was already beginning to fade as the sun set, and he was still tired, despite his elongated rest in the hospital. He didn’t say anything to his parents, even when his dad began to pepper him with questions about how he was feeling.

His mother murmured, “Maybe there’s a way to reverse this.”

Fresh felt a twinge of anger go through him, and he growled, wanting to block the voices out.

He retrieved his favorite pair of headphones from his backpack. They were a bright cerulean blue, a peaceful shade that he’d loved at one point. Looking upon them now, he couldn’t help but grimace, the cool hue irritating his eyes. A fanged grin spread across his face, and he sent a jolt of pink energy through the device, staining it a dark shade of magenta.

He held up his claws, watching the rosy energy spark. It was proof of his power. And the more Fresh stared at it, the more entrancing it became, until he realized… he liked being powerful.

He smirked, slipping on his headphones. His own internal song echoed through his head, reminding him of his new nature, his new status as a pink shape.

Even if some people refused to accept it, he wasn’t a weak grey blossom anymore. For the first time in his life, he had power over others. Even his family was afraid of him. And he had to admit that he liked it.

His grin only stretched as pink energy crackled along his form, his once pale jacket being infected with the energy, also turning a magenta hue. He’d turn everything he pleased pink, just because he could. He was a new shape, and people had to recognize it somehow.

Long Live the Monster.

...

Long Live the New Fresh.

#jsab #just shapes and beats #fresh #fanfic #into the zone #spectra #vindicate me #Oh Look a Story Thing #jsab au #Chill Out AU #Cool Friends #au

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phos-s-legs · 6 years

Text

Losing you, AntarcPhos

(Could be triggering due to someone close to our beloved Phos being gone, based on my own experiences at a therapists office.)

Phos never thought, in even their darkest nightmares, that Antarcticite would be gone. Their constant anxiety and depression since then has landed them in a therapy office. Waiting for a doctor who probably hardly gives a shit about Phos’s problems. But after their friends begged and pleaded for Phos to go, they did.

Mint eyes stare up at the lobby TV in boredom. Lips slightly parted and a dead gaze towards the tv. It hits them.

Winter. It was winter of 2014. 4 years ago. December 13th.

“U-uh-? Antarc...?” Both Phos and Antarc were walking through a mall, gazing at the many different stores. Amazing.

“Hm?” Antarc’s hum rings through Phos’s mind. They were just friends at the time. But every once in a while Phos will look at Antarc’s perfect face. And they'd get lost in those steel grey eyes.

“I.... wanted to ask you something...” blood rushed to Phos’s cheeks and they finally spat it out.

“Phosphophyllite?” A woman calls for Phos, a nurse. Phos gets up with a small, forced smile. “Come with me please.”

The nurse leads Phos to a small room and runs a few tests like weighing and blood pressure. Blah blah blah. All boring to them.

The nurse tells Phos to wait a couple minutes here. Leaving Phos with their thoughts.

They said yes! Antarcticite said yes! Their first official date was a week after Phos asked them out. And, oh my god, could Antarc’s face be any redder?

Phos knew Antarc was particularly bad at love. And not in the heartbreaking way. They really did want to love, genuine love. But they always froze up as blood rushed to their face when Phos simply held their pale hand.

After about a week of Antarc's constant blushing and stuttering, they finally went on a date. Their first date was going to a Christmas themed park. The whole place was lit up with lights and decorated perfectly for the holidays.

December 20th, 2014.

Phos kept dragging Antarc by their hand to different food stalls that sold dirt cheap treats. Antarc said that their favorite was the warm apple cider. They sat down in a small courtyard with their Christmas treats. From caramelized popcorn to cookies with little Santa faces on them, they picked up one of everything.

Though the treats were nice, Phos loved the biggest snack in front of them. Adored them even.

Antarc looked absolutely gorgeous in the Christmas lights. Red and greens bounced off their almost translucent white hair. Their face has a light pink tint and their lips...

“Phos? Are you okay?” Antarc asks, their eyes concerned. Worried that Phos was getting bored.

“Never better!” Phos smiles wide for the other, who gives a soft smile and a small chuckle. To Phos, that was the best.

“You’ve hardly eaten any of the food we got, are you sure you’re-“ “That's because I’m looking at a better snack.” Phos somehow got a flirt out. But interrupted Antarc.

After a second, Antarc got it and their face lit up with a bright red. “Ph-Phos-!!”

“Phosphophyllite? Hello?” The therapist stood in the doorway, and Phos looked up from their wallet. In it, they laminated and taped a picture from that night. Antarc and Phos, a little selfie in front of the massive Christmas tree right in the middle of the theme park.

“Ah- yeah.” Phos closes the wallet and pockets it in their jeans. They stand and follow the therapist.

“Take a seat.” The therapist was a female in about her 30’s. Black hair framed an egg-shaped face.

Phos took the lady's advice and sat in a rather comfy chair, while the doctor sat behind their desk.

“So, Phosphophyllite, my name is Dr. Ivy. Tell me whats been going on.” Ivy’s voice was soft and careful.

“I lost someone very dear to me 2 years ago... it feels like just yesterday when I held their hand.” Phos spills, figuring that saying no is a waste of insurance. Ivy writes down things on a clipboard.

“So... you’re mourning the loss of a lover..?”

“Yeah... they felt like more than a lover though... and, I blame myself for what happened- I-I-“

February 14, 2014

Valentine's day. Of course, Phos had something special planned.

“Antarc! Wake uppp!”

Antarc groaned, pulling a pillow over their face. “Five more minutes...” their voice was muffled under the pillow. Phos grabbed it and tossed it off. “Its Valentine's day!! Get up like a good boyfriend!”

Antarc finally opened their eyes and sat up. “Fine...” their white hair was an absolute mess.

“Oh jeez-“ Phos couldn’t help the laugh that came out from their chest. While Antarc sat there. Confused.

The day was full of surprises for Antarc. Phos dragged them all over town. And Antarc didn’t mind. They got home at 9 p.m. and Antarc decided now was the time.

“Hey Phos, I-I have a surprise for you.” Antarc shut the door behind them, taking off their jacket.

“You do? Where is it?!” Antarc chuckled and pulled their phone from their pocket, and showed Phos a picture of a Shiba inu puppy. “His name is Meme, and he’s ours tomorrow.”

Phos screamed, hugging Antarc so tight they could crush the skinny legend. “Ph-phos-!!” “HIS NAME IS MEME?! I LOVE HIM! AND WE GET HIM TOMORROW! I LOVE YOU SO MUCHHH!”

Antarc laughed, finally embracing Phos. “I love you too, Phos.”

That was the first time Antarc said that without stuttering.

Dr. Ivy seemed to understand everything and told Phos to try some different tactics to keep themselves calm. Phos saw them as bullshit, but took the advice. Ivy wanted them to avoid taking antidepressants for now.

Phos left the office with a new appointment and a paper with all the tactics taught today. They got in their car, and before they knew it, tears fell. They curse under their breath and grip the steering wheel, head tilted down as they tremble. Sobs pour out before they could even stop them.

They begged whatever sentient god to just bring Antarcticite back. Back home with all the others. They glance at their phone and see about 10 messages from all different people. 5 of them were from Dia.

“I have to get home...” they decide to call Dia on the way back and start their car.

They look up, sniffling, and see a snowflake fall. It lands on their windshield. Phos smiles, as more join it.

“You would have told me to move on by now. To be strong. So I will. Thank you...” they wipe their tears and drive home as snow gently falls around them.

(Enjoy the suffering, two anons who asked for it. -Mod Antarc, A cold boi)

#hnk #hnk human au #houseki no kuni #human au #antarcphos #could be triggering #enjoy the two anons who asked for some p a in #mod antarc #mod phos edited it #hnk antarcticite #hnk phosphophyllite #hnk antarc #hnk phos #land of the lustrous

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