#sorry to end on a sour note but if it makes anyone sad just scroll back up :D | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

anthotneystark · 9 months

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If you hear that same sweet song again (Will you know why?)

I'm so sorry, I had this in my brain and needed to get it out. Major character death warning ahead, so if that's not your thing, scroll on. I don't usually go this route, I like happy endings too much, but...the idea wouldn't leave me alone :(

When the dust settles, the grief sinks in.

It’s like a switch is flipped, and no one can get the light to turn back on.

Steve dims. He tries to smile, but he can’t. It breaks all of them a little more every time they see him, noting new changes, dreading what they imagine they’ll see next.

None of the changes are good.

His eyes stay dark and dull, almost glazed over. His hair goes without styling. He stops eating, or just forgets more often than not, and slowly gets thinner and thinner, more gaunt, more pale. They watch him fade, like a picture hung in direct sunlight.

They try to keep him afloat, try to bring him back even just a little. It doesn’t work though. Dustin gets the closest, even with all the grief on his own shoulders. Lucas isn’t far behind him. But whatever life they breath back into him fades before they can celebrate it.

It’s probably for the best that he didn’t have a job to get back to after the sky clears again, because he definitely would have lost it in the aftermath. There’s a gaping hole in his life, and none of them can fill it, they’re not sure it’s possible for anyone to fill it. Mike tries to pester Nancy about it, but even with all of them looking to her for help, she just looks sad and says she wishes she knew what to do now.

Then, almost out of nowhere, there’s a ray of hope.

He goes out of his way to see each of them, they spend time together and he smiles. They all talk constantly, so it gets around quickly and they can’t help being excited because he’s finally bouncing back. He’s finally starting to be Steve again and even if he’s not the same as before, just seeing him be more like himself is enough. It’s a relief.

For two whole weeks, Steve is Steve and Dustin feels like he could cry because he’s got his brother back.

They’re so caught up in relief that they don’t notice until it’s too late.

They don’t notice until Lucas has a good number of sweaters, until there’s a letterman Jacket hanging in in Dustin’s room, until various trinkets have found their way into their lives.

Joyce gets an odd call, a deposit has hit her bank account, one she doesn’t know anything about.

Dustin finds the Beemer in his driveway, keys in the cupholder, but no Steve in sight.

Erica finds the nailbat in her closet, and a sour feeling sinks into her stomach.

Hopper gets a letter.

He doesn’t let any of the kids see it, even when they make demands, when they see him go pale. El quietly says she isn’t sure if they want to when she sees his reaction.

He leaves quickly after that, letter in hand, and tells them to stay put. For once, they listen, the fear in his eyes all the convincing they need.

Something is wrong, something with Steve, and whatever it is has got Hopper scared.

He’d been worried, hearing the kids talk about how Steve was suddenly getting better. He’d tried to talk to him, but the kid, because he is a kid, had just shrugged him off and promised he was fine every single time. He’d wanted to believe it, that Steve was finally healing, even if the stone sitting low in his gut told him that something was very, very, wrong still.

For all he’d been seeing the kids, had made time for Joyce and Claudia, he’d been avoiding Hopper too.

He knew what Hopper would see.

He knocks, hoping more than anything that he’s wrong as he looks at the big, empty, cold house in front of him. When no answer comes, he tries the door, and it scares him that it’s unlocked. People are usually the least of their problems, but it’s not a good sign.

The house is still, orderly and clean, almost sterile. He’d heard hushed whispers about the elder Harringtons, about them not coming back with the mess that was the town. But the house is too quiet, and it raises the hair on the back of his neck. He goes upstairs first, and it more relieved than he should be to find both bathrooms empty, the tubs almost sparkling clean. Searching the bedrooms gives him nothing. It all looks like a magazine, totally devoid of personality and life in every corner.

The yard is empty, the pool drained, the house silent in it’s stillness, almost like it’s laughing at him.

Steve isn’t here, he hasn’t been here for a while.

It’s almost with a panic setting his blood ablaze that he searches, trying to think of anywhere he would go. He tries the cemetery, the lake, the school, the Byers’ old house, where Starcourt used to stand, and with every location he panics a little more. He tries the old Creel house, but there’s nothing there. He has enough time to panic over the idea of Steve finding a way to get into the upside down, removing himself entirely from the situation when he remembers one more place.

The kids had mentioned it once, galivanting through the woods to try and find another boy this town had failed. There were so many of those, so many he regretting not being able to help now.

He knew his town well though, knew it enough to know how to find one more spot.

He steps into the clearing and wants to throw up. He doesn’t remember moving as he caught sight of a too bright piece of cloth, but he knows what he does and doesn’t feel when he reaches out.

Cold skin, no pulse.

A hand tightly holding onto a thin silver bracelet, one too small for it to be his own even now.

He looks like he could be sleeping; Jim wishes he was sleeping.

He wishes he could wake up now.

He wishes he hadn’t seen it coming, wishes there was a sarcastic motormouth here with him because if she was, Steve wouldn’t be here, too still, too cold, too thin.

He’ll have to call it in. He’ll have to tell the kids.

He won’t call the parents; they won’t come for him.

He adds another tally to that list of kids the town failed and hopes it’s the last he’ll need to add.

#I'm so sorry #I made myself cry so please join me #platonic stobin #steve harrington #jim hopper #major character death #hurt no comfort #kat writes

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fadesofcool · 4 years

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Matter

Author’s Note: I’m a bit rusty, but I've had this idea for a while and I’m really happy with how it turned out. Enjoy.

Never cared for what they do

Never cared for what they know

It had come at the end of a long week. The days had seem to drag on, each one lasting longer than the last. But you powered through, keeping promises to yourself to be strong and productive. You were exhausted; mentally, physically, spiritually. Your saving grace would be the moment you stepped into your apartment on Friday. Ashton was coming home from tour Friday night, and you had taken four days off to be able to spend time with him and celebrate his homecoming.

You had gotten the first notification on your phone in the middle of the day. Your phones vibration broke you out of your trance, halting your concentration. You glanced down, hoping for an update text from Ashton, but instead saw a Twitter notification. Suddenly, more and more notifications started rapidly popping up, from all your social media. You furrowed your brows, picking up your phone and unlocking it. Scrolling through your Twitter feed, you felt your stomach sharpen, a sour taste seeping into your mouth.

Pictures of Ashton and the rest of the boys at different clubs and parties, celebrating their recent successes and the end of tour. Countless girls scattered around them, all of them stunning and glowing in their tight glittering dresses. Everyone was smiling and drinking, arms around each other, hanging on each other, hugging, touching. It was all too much. You and Ashton had been together for well over a year, and you trusted him, but the insecurities occasionally crept up on you, surprising you out of the blue, shocking you into a period of self-hatred. But this was brought on by them. The groupies, the girls, anyone that hung out with Ashton that you deemed prettier than you, funnier than you, better than you in practically every way. Ashton may love you, but really, what was stopping him? You were miles away in a tiny town with your tiny life and meaningless job. Everything you did looked small compared to the scale of Ashton’s life. He could easily have anyone he chose, within seconds. In your moments of weakness, you often questioned Ashton’s motives for being with you and staying with you for so long. What was he getting out of it? Was it really as worth it as he said it was? You had your doubts.

You locked your phone, not wanting to see anymore, knowing the emotions would hit, and you’ve already cried multiple times at work because of Ashton, usually over how much you missed him. But as you turned back to your computer, you couldn’t help but water the seed of doubt that was planted in your stomach. You thoughts were roaming free in an open field of insecurities, and you kept coming back to those girls. You were all for girls supporting other girls, but didn’t that also mean respecting other girls relationships? Why did girls flirt and hang all over Ashton knowing that he had a girlfriend? Is it because you weren’t there with him? You couldn’t put your life on hold to follow him around the world like a lost puppy.

I never opened myself this way

Life is ours, we live it our way

Ashton locked his phone for what felt like the hundredth time that night, leaning his head back to rest against the wall of the booth. His eyes shifted lazily around the club, barely registering anything he was seeing. He couldn’t enjoy himself. All he wanted was to hear from you.

“Ash! Dude, come on!” Ashton turned his head toward the sound of his name, seeing Calum walk towards him with a drink in each hand. Ashton had barely drank all night, but Calum was already tipsy. Calum plopped down in the booth next to Ashton, shoving a drink into Ashton’s hand.

“What is this?” Ashton asked.

“Doesn’t matter! Just drink it!” Calum threw back his drink in one gulp. “I’m tired of seeking you sulk mate,” Calum continued. “We came out to celebrate. Now, put the phone away,” Calum said, reaching over Ashton’s body and grabbing his phone from his hand. “And celebrate!”

Calum stood and shoved Ashton’s phone into his front pocket.

“Dude, no, give me my phone back. What if she needs me?”

Calum shook his head at Ashton. “She’s not gonna need you because she’s probably out having a great time, just like you should be! So get up and. Go. Dance.” Calum state firmly, turning and walking away from Ashton.

Ashton sighed, knowing it was no use trying to get his phone back from Calum until Calum passed out and he could dig it out of his pocket himself. Ashton looked around the club, noticing a few girls outside the VIP section where he sat eyeing him, hoping that he would use his leverage to get them in the coveted spot. He rolled his eyes and turned towards the bodyguard guarding the rope.

“You can let those two in,” He said, tilting his head towards the girls. “I’m heading out the back.” The security nodded, unhooking the rope for the girls. They pushed each other in quickly, trying to get near Ashton. He turned quickly and escaped out the back entrance of the club, breathing the night air in deeply when his feet hit the pavement. He looked up and down the road, gathering his surroundings, before making a left, sticking his hands in his pockets, and making his way back to the hotel.

It took Ash a second to remember what city they were in as he kicked pebbles down the sidewalk. He didn’t have his phone so he couldn’t check the time, but he couldn’t help but wonder what you were up to. If it was night time you were probably asleep in the large bed you shared with Ashton, wearing his clothes as pajamas. If it was the daytime you were probably working or with friends. Either way, he knew you were probably missing him, but doing your best to push it down and power through. You were always determined that way. Not to let anything get in your way. It was one of the many things he loved about you. You and Ashton hadn’t been together the longest, but he was serious about you. He knew he wanted to be with you long term. On the easy Sunday mornings when you two just lazed in bed together, he often thought about how this was something he wanted to do for the rest of his life. He had never had a relationship like he had with you. It was different than anything else he had experienced, and the feelings you gave him were so strong. He knew your relationship wasn’t ideal, but to him, it was so worth it.

So close, no matter how far

Couldn't be much more from the heart

You had been calling Ashton’s phone for what seemed like hours. After 5 calls, you started to think you might’ve been annoying him, but after 12, you had assumed the worst. None of the other boys had picked up their phones earlier. They were most likely all partying together, to drunk to even feel their phones vibrating, but still, you couldn’t help but think that maybe something bad had happened to Ashton.

15 calls later, on the fourth ring, Ashton’s phone picked up.

“Hello?”

“Calum?” You asked, confused.

“Yeah? Who else?”

“Why are you answering Ashton’s phone?”

You heard some shuffling sounds on the other end before Calum’s voice returned.

“Oh shit, I thought this was my phone! Sorry babe. I’m holding onto Ashy’s phone for him.”

You loved Calum, but he was really testing your patience. You closed your eyes and breathed deeply.

“Well could you just put him on the phone for me please?”

“Oh, he’s not here.”

“Where is he?”

“I don’t know. I think he left a little while ago. He seemed sad.”

“He was sad and you let him go off by himself with a phone?”

“Sorry!”

“It’s okay Calum. Could you please tell him to call me when you see him? Okay?”

You had absolutely no faith in drunk Calum, but you had to ask for your sanity.

“Of course. Love you bye!”

You pulled the phone away from your ear, the line was dead before you even had a chance to say bye. You sighed, gathering your things before heading upstairs to bed.

You sat on the edge of yours and Ashton’s bed. You glanced at Ashton’s side, realizing how big the bed seemed with only one person sleeping in it. When you two had picked it out together, Ashton insisted on a larger bed, for many reasons, but he didn’t take into consideration the fact that it would mostly be you sleeping it in. A fact that at the time felt like a stupid thing to mention. You loved Ashton and were so supportive of his career, but sometimes you felt like he didn’t understand all the ways that him being on tour affected you. You closed your eyes, and thought back fondly on the memories of you and Ashton picking out the bed and all of the other furniture for your new place together. It was such a great day for the both of you, a day that really set in stone the fact that you two were serious about each other. So serious that you were living together and picking out furniture. You reached over to your phone on the bed side table and turned the sound on, just in case Ashton called you, you would be able to hear it. With that, you pulled back the covers and got into bed, wishing Ashton was by your side.

Forever trust in who we are

No, nothing else matters

The shrill ring and vibration of your phone pulled you out of your deep sleep. You frantically rolled over, hastily picking up the phone.

“Hello?” You asked urgently, not even checking who was calling.

“Hey, it’s me.”

At the sound of Ashton’s voice your body instantly relaxed. You closed your eyes and flopped back onto the mattress. You sighed deeply, then sat back up when you realized what time it was.

“Are you okay? Where were you? Calum said you were sad and alone and you didn’t have a phone.”

You often worried about coming across as a needy, clingy partner when Ashton was on tour, but right now, you were so overcome with emotions that they just flowed out of you into Ashton’s ear, trickling out of your heart like a leaky faucet only he could fix.

He laughed softly. “I’m okay. Calum said I was spending too much time on my phone texting you so he took it from me. I wasn’t feeling the club anymore so I walked back to the hotel. It was kinda nice actually.”

You sighed once again and laid on your side, cradling the phone to your ear like it was about to break.

“Okay. I’m glad you’re okay. Calum said you were sad.”

Ashton sighed, and although you couldn’t see him, you knew he was running his hands through his hair. He was probably laying on his back on the hotel mattress, boots planted firmly on the floor. His head was probably turned to the side looking out the window, wondering if you were looking at the same sky that he was looking at.

“I just miss you, that’s all. And I know how you are, and I worry about you.”

“You don’t have to worry about me Ashton.”

Ashton sat up, feeling his heart thump in his chest, thinking about you all alone in that big house he wanted so bad. A house that was meant to be filled with love from two hearts, but was instead filled with the timid beats of one, all alone.

“I do, though. You’re all alone, and I know there’s all that shit on social media, and how easily you get sucked into it. I wish I could protect you from all of that. You shouldn’t have to put up with that, and I can’t even do anything about it. It’s not fair to you.”

“Ashton, I don’t care about all of that. I know I read it and I shouldn’t and sometimes it does affect me, but in the end, it’s all background noise. Nothing else matters except for you. Hearing your voice at the end of the day takes all of that away and makes all of it worth it. Knowing you’re there for me and that we have each other, that makes everything okay. I can handle all of this as long as you’re by my side.”

Ashton’s soft smile slowly spread across his face. “I’ll always be by your side baby. And you’re right, nothing else matters.”

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cieloxcnco · 4 years

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yo te haré mía (cnco) - ch13

Chapter 13

Words: 4,100+

Warnings: language and angst, no smut this time.

A/N: i work a full time job and have been dealing with too much to really write, but COVID-19 quarantine is a gift in some ways.

chapter 12 is here if you need to catch up.

Richard craned his neck from side to side, willing the bones in his stiff and stressed spine to crack, rolling his shoulders forward and back when nothing else seemed to work. “I’m not sure what time we’ll be done but I’ll text you and let you know what’s going on, okay?” Jasmyn bounced Miguel on her hip, dipping his bottle in the warming water on the stovetop to heat it. “Amor, this doesn’t really have to deal with you. If you don’t want to deal with the stress, don’t go.” His straight spine slid back into his typical swagged slouch. “Baby, how would it not deal with me? This is about the band, and the band is my life. I have to go.” She nodded resignedly. “I get it. I just hate that you had nothing to do with all the downfall and now you’re suffering.” He shrugged. “I gotta go deal with this. They’re my brothers.” She shrugged back. “And they’ve got to figure their own shit out. You’re all in contracts you’re all fucked if you break, so they’ve just got to man up, have one good fight, and get the fuck on with it. At the end of the day it’s a job with coworkers you either like or you don’t but you still make it work. You don’t have to fucking mediate.” Richard grit his teeth. “It ain’t like that at all, Jas,” “Then how is it, Rich? Chris did Zabdiel dirty and now everybody has to deal with the consequences of them fucking around? It’s not just the band that has to face the consequences of it, but you guys are taking the brunt of it. It’s fucked up,” she hissed, trying to control her infuriated force as she gingerly strapped Miguel into his high chair. Aaliyah and Joaquin tried to stay quiet as they peered from the playroom into the kitchen, trying to translate the heated and tense words into small terms they could comprehend. “Why is everyone going to see Tio Chris y Papi?” Joaquin whimpered softly. Aaliyah pulled his arm back to bring him out of earshot of the adults still bickering. “They all got mad when Tio Chris got hurt before they went to see your baby sister.” “Is that why they’re mad?” Joaquin asked quietly. “He’s feeling better and they all got to see mi hermanita en el hospital. There’s no reason to be angry then.” Aaliyah took out the plastic plates and cutlery from her kitchen set and began to set her playskool table for a meal. “Daddy said Tia Isa had the baby but didn’t tell me- what’s her name?” Joaquin pulled one of the seats at the table back a little too far and just leaned forward with his elbows on his knees, his chin resting in his palms. The memory of his new little sister was already bitter, her arrival just triggering a series of events that now seemed to have everyone tense and angry. And with that sort of welcoming introduction, he didn’t exactly smile at the mention of her. “Xiomara.” Aaliyah’s head cocked to one side. “See-oh-what?” Joaquin counted the syllables on his fingers for emphasis. “See-oh-mah-ra. Abuela showed me it starts with X, but that sounds like X-ray so I don’t get it,” Aaliyah shook her head adamantly. “But X makes the Z like xy-lo-phone sound, so it’s just weird. Must do the ‘see’ sound too. Or they got it wrong and just don’t spell right.” Joaquin hardly took the effort to shrug his shoulders. Aaliyah started stirring the imaginary ingredients in her stovetop pot. “But everybody came home sad from seeing her, and Tio Zab was really really angry. What happened?” Joaquin’s face went white and his hands trembled around the play fork he’d been toying with, letting it clatter to the floor. The last thing he knew that had happened before Zabdiel had frustratedly screamed at everyone in his path was he’d hugged his father’s legs and asked him for help. He’d been too needy, he hadn’t asked nice enough, he’d been too annoying. Zabdiel being upset was his fault. Joaquin knew he was the reason his papa was angry and that had set this all in motion. The light in his eyes faded and he stared straight ahead. Aaliyah, not having turned to see the expression on her cousin’s face, waddled back to the doorframe to eavesdrop. “Maybe Daddy and Jazzy are talking about it still and we can find out. Shush.” Jasmyn smiled softly at Richard as she walked to where he stood, kissing his furrowed brow. “I know, baby. Just don’t take their problems onto you. This is tearing everyone else up - don’t allow it to bring you down, papi. Te amo.” “Yo también te amo,” he whispered as he kissed her cheek in return. “You gonna be good with the kids by yourself?” “You know they’re never a problem, amor. We’ll be fine. You want to help them sort this, go do it, and I’ll see you later.” She silenced them both with a chaste kiss on the lips while Miguel impatiently hit his palms against the tray table of his high chair. “Missed it,” Aaliyah groaned as she stomped back over to her toy refrigerator, pouring herself a pretend glass of juice to sip while her pot simmered on the stove. “Missed what, traviesa?” Richard asked with a wink as he turned the corner into the playroom. Aaliyah giggled and ran into his waiting arms to be scooped up in a hug and have her cheeks peppered with kisses. “What are you doing? You making lunch?” “Yuh-huh,” she squealed, half laughing from the tickle of his hand on the side of her hip. “Arroz con habichuelas in the pot. Tienes hambre, papi?” Richard looked down and saw Joaquin staring at his own feet at the play table, speaking to his daughter but keeping his eyes on his distressed nephew. “Not now, princesa - I have to go to a meeting with your tios but when I get back I’d love some.” He set her down on the ground to tend to her simmering pretend meal and turned to Joaquin who immediately stiffened in his seat, turning his eyes lowly to his tio. “Tu ta bien, Quin?” He barely nodded. “Si.” He instinctively held a hand against his back and Joaquin’s eyes went wide. “You gonna have fun with Aaliyah today while I’m at Clara’s office with tu Papi?” The nod was more sharp this time. “Si.” Aaliyah turned away from the play stove and looked to her father. “When you talk to the tios, is it going to make them all stop being mad at each other, Papi?” Richard sighed heavily, not able to find any words appropriate to explain the damage to a child so young. “We’re gonna try, amor, pero sometimes making it better doesn’t make it back to the way it was.” Joaquin tilted his head down further towards the floor to hide the tears that were welling in his eyes. “You guys be good for Jas today, okay? Que disfruten,” Richard said with another press of his lips to the crown of his daughter’s head. “Si,” Joaquin whimpered, but so lowly that Richard left the room without hearing. “Bye, Papi!” Aaliyah waved as he went out the front door, but her attention was immediately back on Joaquin. “Hey, you okay?” Joaquin didn't react, afraid that the slightest movement in either response would have him let the tears flow. Aaliyah put her oversized plastic cooking utensils down and kneeled in front of his chair in an effort to force eye contact. “Quin?” “La culpa es mia,” he murmured beneath his breath, so lowly that she hadn’t distinguished the words. “Que?” She tried to clarify but now he shut his eyes tight and his shoulders began to shake. It was all too much. Tio Richard had seemed calm, but he’d heard the discussion with Jasmyn- he was angry. They all were angry. And he didn’t know what he'd done, but this was his fault. Whatever he had done to make his father upset had now spiraled into everyone being frustrated and acting differently. His parents went sour at the mere mention of each other, abuela had been acting distant and different, and, on top of dealing with the idea of his new sister, he was simply overwhelmed. The tears finally poured out, cascading down his cheeks one after the other, more frightening for Aaliyah to watch because they were so completely silent. Did Quin get hurt? What happened? How did he break? “Quin, que paso?” Aaliyah stepped to him, reaching to touch his shoulder. Joaquin immediately recoiled at the contact, placing his palms on her chest and knocking her backwards to the ground. Tipping backward, she hit the back of her head against the kitchen playset cabinet and immediately yelped, bursting into tears. Jasmyn ran into the room, reaching for Aaliyah to lift her up. “Aaliyah, amor, que paso?” “Quin pushed me down!” she screamed, still nursing the back of her head with her hand. Checking first there was no real visible injury, she soothed Aaliyah with a hand down her back and immediately looked at Quin, noting that he was crying too but visibly trembling. “Joaquin, that’s not nice at all! Why would you push your cousin?” Joaquin fell off the chair and down onto his knees, gripping tightly onto the hem of his tia’s shirtsleeve and burying his face against her shoulder. “I’m sorry, Tia. Please don’t tell Papi. He hates me, I don’t want him more mad. I’m sorry.” Jasmyn’s head was spinning between soothing her stepdaughter’s sobs and trying to bounce from how her nephew had gone from saying goodbye to Richard to being so hysterical over his father’s nonexistent reaction. As the pieces began to fit, she struggled in her thought process of how best to explain the present situation to the mindset of a child. All she could do was hold them both close against her chest as the crying slowed to a stop and pull out her phone to text Richard. ‘I told you it was more than just the band. Call me when you can.’ - Clara and Ali, for the first time that anyone present could ever recall, were sitting at the conference table, completely silent. The blonde scrolled idly through her phone, fighting the urge to again anxiously bite off the end off her nail. Clara fidgeted with her insulated coffee mug as her eyes darted between her apple watch and her nails clicking against the cup. She began tracing her fingertip along the cursive glitter design of Boss Lady written across the stainless steel, and the irony was not lost on her that for all her usual prowess, she had absolutely no control. These pollitos were under her care, her charges, and she had no say in what happened next. She could try to set up the surroundings to arrange the least explosive impact, but that couldn’t change what resulted. She just knew if something wasn’t organized to move this to the next stage, there would be either nothing but silence or another trip to the hospital. Erick was quietly sipping from a paper coffee cup, his eyes focused on the liquid swirling around when he set it down but his mind off in the distance. This band was his entire world and it was going to be made or broken by the moves of two men he deemed brothers that now wanted each other dead. Joel was equally quiet, drumming his fingers across the tabletop in nonsensical patterns. He had reverted to a place in his mind where his emotional valves had been completely shut off. His face was expressionless, his breathing almost inhumanly slow. His mind should have been on how he had returned to his home the night before with Kaja and a lot of her things gone, and he hadn’t even felt any sort of reaction. He had shut the lights off and drifted into a dreamless sleep. Clara squinted her eyes and slammed a heavy palm against the table, drawing all eyes to her. “How the fuck did none of you know? This makes no fucking sense.” “You didn’t know either,” Ali, usually Clara’s sidekick and support, shot back. Clara glared in her direction but couldn’t negate it. Joel shrugged, his voice monotonous. “They hid it from Zabdiel for this long, what makes you think they weren’t just as good at hiding it from us?” “There had to be a slip up,” she seethed. “This all didn’t just unfold at once.” Erick nibbled at his lower lip, the confession ready to burst free, but the chills from the daggers in her eyes kept him silent. But she knew him too well for that. “You fucking knew?” She nearly screeched, her glare venomous. And with that, the dam broke. “I saw them that night at their party at Zabdi’s house… We talk and he say please have respect, that he talk to Zabdiel first, for me not to say. And that was same night that we go to the club. I did not know before.” Clara scoffed and rolled your eyes. “After all this, and then he’s the one that asks for respect. Unreal.” “But I didn’t know hardly before you guys. No looking at me like I kept a secret,” Erick defended, crossing his arms over his chest. Joel grumbled beneath his breath, “Can we stop fucking bickering? There’s no fucking point.” Clara tilted her head, shocked at the usually mild-mannered Mexicano was using such a biting tone. “Joel, de que hablas?” He shrugged and pulled on his hoodie strings. “We can’t do anything about this until they get their shit together. What’s the point of us even being here?” Clara shot daggers at him, but all eyes were drawn as the conference room door opened and Zabdiel entered, Richard behind him with his eyes darting as if ensuring Zabdiel wouldn’t make an off move on his way in. “Everything okay, Richuki?” Clara questioned in attempts to ease his tensions. “Yeah, no, we’re fine,” he reassured. “Zab was just having some coffee in the parking lot and needed a little persuasion to come upstairs.” “Zab,” Clara began slowly, “You alri-“ “Don’t even ask me,” he snapped, sitting down at the chair furthest away that was still facing the door. “You know I’m not alright.” Everyone was silent and stone-faced, anticipating his next move. “What do you expect me to do?” he growled, leering up at Clara. She sighed, looking down at her clutched hands. “Pollito,” she attempted to calm him, but it had no effect on his rage, “you know that to continue with the group the way we need to, this has to be discussed.” He crossed his arms over his chest, huffing out an angry breath. “Right now, I’m trying to deal with being in the same room as that hijueputa. I can’t imagine sharing the stage with him.” Clara clicked her acrylic nail tips against the tabletop again. “Zab, this impacts more than just you. This impacts your record deal, your management, your fans, your networking, your-” “Oh, I’m sorry,” he scoffed, “I forgot that I’m the one who was fucked over and now I have to forgive him to keep everyone in the world happy but myself.” “Zabdiel-” Ali began, possibly intending to soothe him but sounding gruff and exasperated. He roared out his interruption. “So now I have to not only make decisions about my family and my life, but my reaction about him has the band hanging in the balance? Sounds fair to me.” “You’re right, pollito, that’s not fair,” Clara murmured apologetically. “Todavia tenemos que hablar, todos nosotros juntos,” Richard said beneath his breath, but loud enough in the silence. Erick’s eyes were darting back and forth, watching the tense tennis match of banter across the table. Joel hadn’t even looked up. Zabdiel was frighteningly quiet when he finally spoke. “My career, what I’ve worked my life for, now is at risk because my best friend and wife betrayed me. My life is not my own. My family is not my own. Everything is out of my hands while you’re saying everything is my decision to make.” Ali opened her mouth, abnormally ginger, but snapped it shut when the doorknob slowly turned and the man in question carefully slipped through the small gap between. He hesitated in shutting the door behind him, contemplating if he needed it slightly open as an easier escape route. Richard straightened his shoulders, stiffening and preparing to jump between the two. Clara stood, her arms up as if to hold the two apart, although still distanced. “Chris, entra. Sientate.” His eyes focused on Zabdiel’s white-knuckled fists as if ready to jump back out, but clicked the latch of the door shut behind him and sat directly across the table from his raging friend. Clara clicked the lid of her travel mug shut. “Okay, we all understand that massive things have happened that impacts not only you two and your relationship with each other, but how the band is supposed to continue on from here. Now I know that you two haven’t discussed any of this, and there’s obviously things that need to be addressed. But I know that you both are mature enough to understand this and-” “Ese puto? Obviamente no,” Zabdiel snarled. “Silencio,” Clara hissed in his direction. Zabdiel’s teeth visibly began grinding together but he allowed Clara to continue. “And,” she went on, “You both need to set the ground rules before we know how any of us can proceed.” “Pendejo, hijo de fucking puta,” Zabdiel grumbled. “Oye!” Clara exclaimed. “Bastante! You can be pissed, but stop being so aggressive! It won’t get us anywhere!” Zabdiel shot up, his knuckles still white with his palms flat on the table. “How am I the aggressor when this animal is the one at fault? You treat him like he’s fragile when none of this would be happening if he hadn’t taken advantage of all of us.” Clara’s eyes were understanding, but still attempting to be firm. “Zab, ya lo sabemos, pero te tienes que callar.” He slowly started to sink back down into the chair behind him. Chris stammered, “E-en realidad, yo-” Zabdiel shot immediately back up. “Que fucking mentiroso!” Clara finally screamed. “Enough!” All eyes widened and turned intently towards her. Only Joel remained transfixed on his hands. “Do you care at all about the band?” she questioned, her voice audibly cracking. “Do you want your career as CNCO to continue?” The fire in Zabdiel’s eyes calmed and the tremors of Chris’ shoulders slowed. “You two have to decide if you can agree on where we all go from here. This is all up to you. We can’t be involved. And it’s easier if we’re not. Come on, guys, everyone except them.” Everyone rose out of their seats and went to follow her, but she stared Zabdiel down one more time. “You already beat him up once. When we’re gone, don’t try it again.” Zabdiel’s eyes shifted to his enemy across the table. “He’s not worth the time it would take to wash the blood off of my hands.” “Zab,” Ali barked, “seriously.” His fingers still shook with rage but he obeyed and sat back down. Chris hesitantly pulled the chair before him out and sat across from Zabdiel, still eyeing the exit. Ali sighed. “You both have to solve this together. We’re here to support you, but you both have to talk.” Clara held the door for everyone to exit, watching the two of them intently. “We love you. Text me when you’re done discussing.” Quietly shutting the door, she turned to Ali. “Sit right here and listen in. Use your judgment- if there’s only arguing, let them talk, but if it sounds like it’s getting too intense, you call Jose to get in there to break them up and call me to come back.” Her attention turned to the Dominican and Cuban in front of her. “You guys, go grab a coffee downstairs and hang in the interview space to just clear your heads.” The last of the group seemed to have already made it halfway to the elevators when Clara shouted his name. “Joel!” His attention turned to her and she pointed to the empty conference room across the hall. “In here. Now.” Joel shut the door behind him and didn’t even look Clara in the eyes before he sunk down into the first available chair. Infuriated more by his lack of focus, her attitude leapt to its heights. “What the hell is the matter with you?” He clicked the fingertips of his right hand against the tabletop while his left hand cupped his cheek and elbow supported the weight of his head. He almost looked bored and unaffected by the surrounding conflict, but Clara knew him too well to believe that facade. “What the hell is the matter with you?” He shifted and finally met her eyes before rolling his own to interject, but her voice sounded over his scoffing. “You’re all my boys, but don’t think I don’t have a code with your mujeres and know what happened with Kaja. And don’t think for a fucking minute that I don’t see through you acting like you don’t give a fuck because this is breaking you and you’re trying to be alone so you can implode in peace.” His stoic expression flickered to shock and back to guarded, transparent to only the woman who stood before him. “Clara, I’ve got my own shit to handle rather than be here for shit that doesn’t affect me.” She laughed and slammed her mug down. “You think that this doesn’t affect you? This is the band that you all fought for, and that band became a family. Now that two of them have had a falling out, that affects the rest of you. This affects your future, your career. How do you think that doesn’t affect you?” He almost snarled like an animal at the blunt attack. “So why don’t you focus on them and how to keep the group together rather than worrying about me and my personal life?” Her eyes went alight at his ferocity, but the lioness that she was wouldn’t allow her to back down. “Why are you telling off the only people who want to help you through this?” He kicked his feet up on the chair beside him and crossed his arms across his chest. “I don’t need help. I can fall back on my own. All this happened without me being a part of it, they don’t need my help, so I don’t need anyone else’s.” She nearly growled. “And then you have a woman who not only loves you but is,” she stopped to emphasize her words by slamming the back of her hand against her other palm with each syllable, “preg. nant. by. you, you want to suffer alone and make her feel worse? When you need support you push her away?” She kicked the chair beneath his feet backwards to force him to sit straight and she leaned over the table to have them eye to eye. “Look, you can be unnerved by this, you can be hurt and confused, but she doesn’t deserve to deal with you having a tantrum. You gave her a ring promising her your life together. You made the choice to create a family with her, intentional or not.” He pulled uncomfortably on the sleeves of his hoodie sleeves, his arms still protectively across his chest. “I’m not a toddler. I’m not having a tantrum. I didn’t see us working so I ended it. It wasn’t meant to work. None of this seems to. As far as the rest of it, I’m not stressed. They need to do what they need to do. I’m not bothered.” Clara pushed herself up off her place leaning over the table and scoffed. “Really? Because you don’t seem to even realize - you not trying to feel anything is because you’re too hurt to function. If you want to live in your little isolated bubble to try and get through this, that’s your choice, but I’m telling you that if you don’t rectify this now, you are going to be the one that destroys your chance at having love in your life when she could be the one to prove your theory wrong.” Not having a retort for her point, he sat unmoving, staring absently at the window on the opposite wall. She picked up her mug and began to storm out of the room, muttering almost more to herself than him. “I just hope you haven’t hurt her enough to already have lost her. And haven’t pushed us all away enough in the meantime for us all to be done with your shit.”

feedback is always appreciated. chapter 14 already in progress because quarantine has me held up.

stay safe and healthy, guys.

#cnco fanfiction #cnco fanfic #cnco fanfics #cnco fic #cnco imagine #cnco

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365daysofsasuhina · 4 years

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[ @sasuhinabigflash2020 || Day Thirteen: Show No Fear ] [ Uchiha Sasuke, Hyūga Hinata, Uchiha Shisui ] [ SasuHina ] [ Verse: A Light Amongst Shadows ] [ AO3 Link ]

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“Sasuke...when was the last time you left the house…?”

Looking up from a scroll he’s reading, Sasuke gives his cousin a questioning glance. “...why?”

Arms folding, Shisui perks a brow at him. “Because it seems like the entire time I’ve been back, you’ve been holed up in here like a mouse under three feet of snow. Doesn’t seem much like the Sasuke I knew.”

At that, Sasuke sours a few degrees. “You know damn well I’m not the Sasuke you knew.”

“I don’t mean in regards to growing up and the trauma you faced. I mean in terms of shying from something difficult.”

“...excuse me?”

The elder Uchiha looks him over thoughtfully. “...why are you here, Sasuke?”

“You’re going to have to be more specific.”

“I mean here. In Konoha. I’ve been playing my fair share of catch-up, but from what I’ve heard, it sounded like you were dead set on razing this place to the ground not too long ago. Then suddenly you changed your mind? Why?”

“Not really something we can discuss with a light chat,” Sasuke counters, eyes dropping back to his reading.

“Because it seems to me,” Shisui goes on, clearly ignoring the cue to drop the matter, “that you’re scared of something.”

There’s a long pause before Sasuke looks back up. “...I’ve heard a lot of stupid things in my time, but that takes the cake, Shisui. What the hell do I have to be scared of?”

“You tell me,” is the simple counter.

“I’m not scared of anything here.”

“Then why aren’t you doing anything beyond hiding away in here?”

“I’m not hiding -!”

“I’ve heard how you’ve been avoiding everyone you knew like some kind of plague. And I know I don’t know how things went with most of them...and those I do know of, not nearly as well as you do,” Shisui offers, holding up a hand at Sasuke’s tensing. “...but it seems pretty obvious to me you don’t want anything to do with them. But my question is...why are you still in Konoha if it seems to be making you so damn miserable?”

“...that’s rich, coming from you. Konoha’s underbelly stole your eye and left you for dead, and you haven’t done a damn thing to change things.”

“I was fifteen when that happened, and things were a lot more unstable than they are now,” Shisui rebukes. “Now I am all for taking out some trash, but not in the ‘burn Konoha to the ground’ kind of way like you suggested in the past. There’s some rotten shit in this village, even after Danzō and Hiruzen have been removed. But there’s also a lot of innocent lives and people just trying to survive. Which I think you’ve come to realize. And I think that’s also why you came back at all: to try and salvage what’s left of the place you remember as a kid. There’s still things in Konoha worth fighting for. But you don’t seem to be doing much of anything about it.”

“I’m -!” Sasuke’s mouth clamps shut, suddenly aware he’s not sure what he wants to say. “...we’ve both got our own shit to sort out. You spent half your life alone, blind, and bearing a hell of a lot of dirty secrets. I spent mine following every wrong path and person willing to take advantage of me. I killed my brother. I let Orochimaru and Obito and Akatsuki use me to try and find what I was looking for in all the wrong places. It’s been, what...a few weeks since the war ended? Sorry if that’s too much time to try and sort out everything that’s happened the past ten years.”

“I’m not saying for you to drop all inhibitions and pretend nothing ever happened,” Shisui retorts, exasperation in his tone. “But the thing is, you’ve got to take that first baby step sometime. The longer you put it off, the harder it’s going to be. I know you have issues with your classmates. Some...a hell of a lot more than others. But isn’t there anyone you can think of to at least make that initial effort with? Anyone at all? And no, neither of us count,” he adds as Sasuke opens his mouth a bit too quickly.

Shifting to a half-hearted glower, Sasuke looks aside. Truthfully, given how much he retreated from others not long after even joining the Academy...he’s given very few of his classmates any thought beyond those who ended up on his team. And for now, they are the last people he has any inclination to connect with. “...I don’t know. I didn’t exactly make many friends growing up.”

“Shocking,” Shisui counters flatly, ignoring his cousin’s scathing look. “...tell you what. Just...go out for the afternoon. You don’t even have to talk to anyone. But gods above Sasuke, you have to experience more of Konoha than this house. You want to save it, right? Change it for the better? Then don’t be such a stranger to it. People are already wary of you given your status of missing nin, no matter your reasoning behind it. The more you hide away and give them the cold shoulder, the harder it’s gonna be to convince them that what you want to do here is for the betterment of the village. They’ve got work to do to re-earn your trust...but so do you. Otherwise you’re gonna come off as an asshole shoving his weight around without really knowing Konoha. You ‘abandoned’ it. So come back. Truly.”

“Tch…” In all reality, it was Konoha that abandoned him, but...he knows Shisui is right. He’s not scared of the villagers, but rather...apprehensive. As his cousin notes, he isn’t on the best of terms with them, nor them with him. He’s already so damn tired, so worn from all he’s gone through. The thought of picking up yet another cause, another battle, has been daunting.

...but he’s not afraid. He’s not about to let Konoha think it scares him.

So, after a moment of silent internal debate, he rolls up his scroll, tying the parchment shut before getting to his feet. “...fine.”

“Atta boy. Show no fear, eh?”

That earns a cool glance, but no verbal retort as he heads for the door and into the large, empty expanse of the clan compound. To his annoyance, the autumn sunlight actually makes him squint.

...maybe he has been cooped up too long.

Mentally preparing himself for the glances, gawking, and glowers, Sasuke follows the forming path between the lone Uchiha household...and the village proper. Thankfully it leads into quiet residential neighborhoods first, and not the noise and bustle of the village belly.

Even so, a few residents look up from their yards and their porches. He considers cheating a bit and using a henge, but...that largely defeats the purpose. Instead, he ignores the eyes on him and just...keeps going, winding his way around the quieter parts of the village.

Hi no Kuni is just on the brink of tumbling from Autumn into Winter, a definite chill in the air. Mulling over the fact that it will be snowing soon, Sasuke almost misses a soft inquiry of his name.

“...Sasuke-kun?”

Stopping a full pace later, he blinks before turning. There’d been a subconscious tightening of his muscles at his name and the suffix, fearing Sakura. But the tone was too soft, too gentle to be her demanding bark for attention. Instead, he sees someone he admittedly almost forgot existed: Hyūga Hinata. One of his classmates from back in the day. But despite her aging since he last even looked her way, he never forgets a face. “...Hyūga,” he offers in reply.

At his acknowledgement, she steps a bit closer. Her outfit is accented by a long coat and a scarf. “...sorry, I…” A pause. “...at first, I...wasn’t sure it was you. I haven’t seen you much since the end of the war.”

You haven’t seen me at all, he wants to counter, but thinks better of it. She’s just trying to be polite in addressing his complete ghosting. “I’ve been staying home a lot.”

“...I see. Going for a walk…?”

“Though I’d get some fresh air.” The meaningless small talk is slowly bringing an itch in the back of his mind, demanding he leave. But this is what Shisui was talking about: dipping his toes back in. And who better than someone he barely remembers, let alone has any reason to detest?

At his reply, she smiles. “It does a person good,” is her agreement. “I was just on my way back from visiting Tenten-chan. She lives out here, in the residential district.”

...he’s not sure what to say to that. “...I see.”

“...I…” Another pause - is she always so hesitant when speaking? “...forgive me if this is a little, um...forward, Sasuke-kun. But aren’t you...cold?”

He blinks. In truth he did completely skip over any preparation for his little outing, too engrossed in Shisui’s nagging. “I’m fine.”

“Are you sure? I have a spare -?”

“I told you, I’m fine.”

His blunt, almost callous reply earns a flinch back, clearly not expecting it. And for some reason, Sasuke finds himself immediately regretting it...but unsure how to take it back.

“...o-okay. Um...well, I...guess I’ll leave you to your walk.” Somehow, her voice seems even softer, almost...sad? “Have...have a good afternoon, Sasuke-kun.”

He grimaces as she walks past him. Fix this, idiot! “Hyūga.”

She pauses, glancing back.

For a long moment, jaw clenched, Sasuke battles with himself over what to do. And to her credit, Hinata waits patiently, if not without a fair share of confusion. “...I...wasn’t snapping at you.”

Large, pale eyes blink. “...I understand -”

“No, I…” He sighs, a hand running back through his hair as he thinks. “...I’m still...adjusting. And...I’m not very good at...this.” A hand gestures vaguely, not...really explaining what this is.

But Hinata seems to comprehend, brightening just a hair, turning to face him fully. “...it...must be strange,” she agrees gently. “I know we, um...we never really spoke. And I regret that. Surely being here is difficult for you, given…” She fades out, appearing unsure how much she should say. “...but I just...wanted you to know that you’re welcome here. I can’t speak for...for everyone. And maybe not everyone feels that way. But Konoha is your home, so long as...you choose it to be. And I hope things improve for you. If you need anything, please just let me know. I’d be glad to help.” She offers another smile, this one far warmer than the first.

In spite of himself, Sasuke stares at her for a long moment in genuine surprise. “...thanks,” is all he can muster in reply.

“I hope to see you around more often,” Hinata adds, hands folding at her front. “Don’t let your apprehension hold you back, Sasuke-kun. Everything is changing. And...you should be able to take part in it, too. You helped protect this chance at change, after all.” She then gives a small, polite bow. “Enjoy the rest of your walk.”

Still not sure what to say, he nods in return, watching her go. That was...not what he expected. And in a way, he can’t help but be thankful that was his first encounter: odds are anything else would have been far worse. Mulling it all over, he eventually decides to then cut his adventure short. Not very long, but...well, he wants to keep it from being ruined by anything else. And he can always have another go some other day.

...maybe he’ll have a chance to try that again and not be so...well...that.

Blegh, still not fully caught up, but...at least falling no further behind? :’D This is a bit random and not precisely what I was aiming for when I started, but...I think it turned out all right. I’ve never written Sasuke and Hinata’s very first encounter post-war. Ones soon after, but not the first. Not sure I got it quite how I wanted, but I mean...this is a random event drabble, not the fic itself. So I guess I can forgive it xD One of the key things about SH to me is 1. Sasuke’s lack of interaction with Hinata pre-war, and thus having no qualms about her, and 2. Hinata’s sweet nature and what I’m sure would be understanding once she heard even the barest of details concerning what he went through...let alone everything she ends up knowing (down the road) in this story. You bet your bonnet that as a member of a large Konoha clan, and someone of import in that clan who had her own share of difficulties with both internal and external politics, she’d be one of the first to rally with Sasuke for change and justice. But that’s just my two cents, and at 2am no less, so take them with a grain of salt :P On that note tho it is definitely time for bed lol - thanks so much for reading, and I’ll see you next time!

#sasuhinabigflash2020 #shbf2020 #sasuhina #uchiha sasuke #hyūga hinata #uchiha shisui #a light amongst shadows [ canon verse ]

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letsbenditlikebennett · 4 years

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Batman and the Wolf in Shining Armor || Ariana & Sammy/Ace

TIMING: Tonight, middle of the night PARTIES: @inspirationdivine & @letsbenditlikebennett SUMMARY: After looking for Ace/Sammy out in the woods for the past few nights, Ariana finally comes across him again. Wholesome times ensue. CONTENT: Sibling death mentions,

The past couple of nights, Ariana had made her way to their spot in the woods, hoping to catch Ace. It’d been a while since she left her last note and she knew it left him a bit worried. Turned out, it was with good reason though not even skipping late night runs through the wood had done her any good. She swallowed back the lump that felt like lead in her throat and slid down the tree to sit on the ground as she waited. If he didn’t show up tonight, she was going to have to check that tunnel out again and try to find where he was. She intended to help him and make sure his situation was safe, as she had that looming feeling present that it wasn’t, but things had just spiraled so out of control. She would follow through for him though. Ace was kind, sweet, and funny-- whatever he was going through that limited how much he could share with her wasn’t deserved. Too many good people seemed to be getting the shit end of the stick and she wasn’t going to let that happen to Ace, too. The crunching of leaves beneath shoes shook her from her thoughts as her head whipped around to see the source. A tired, but relieved smile spread across her face as she jumped up to greet Ace. She immediately enveloped him in a hug and said, “I’m so glad you’re here. Been trying to catch you the last few nights.”

Sammy hadn’t been wandering so much lately. It hadn’t been easy to get out with Lydia having one kind of guest or another. Never reveal your presence to a guest. Well, this one apparently didn’t even sleep. Fuck, he’d thought, but tonight, he’d made it out. Even though he’d seen the eye in the sky, the moon didn’t look too shabby. He’d curled his hands into his pockets, and run. No scratch left on his skin anymore, the rambling excuses about dried clay had barely satiated Lydia, but she hadn’t questioned it too closely. He wandered into the woods, his chest tight, desperate to see Ariana again after the notes she’d left him. But the young wolf caught him by surprised when she jumped up from the tree, and when she hugged him he swung his wiry arms right around hers, effortlessly picking up her up in a bear hug. “Yeah, god, I missed you Ari. You scared the hell out of me.”

Ariana clung to him longer than she normally would have, taking in his earthy scent that always vaguely reminded her of clay and burying her head into his chest. With everything else that happened, it was such a huge relief to see him here alive despite the fact she’d failed to check up on him sooner. As she pulled away, she weakly explained, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.” She meant as much, though she wasn’t even sure how to explain what happened. It was terrible and there wasn’t really a way of making it sound less terrible, not that she thought Ace needed her to filter anything, it was just a lot to put on someone who clearly had their own problems. Not that he could talk about them which only furthered the sour feeling in her stomach so she tried to shake that away, though a trace of a grimace was left on her face. “A lot happened, but I’m mostly safe now. Or at least, there’s not anyone actively hunting for me anymore. Are you okay though? How have you been?”

“Woah, hey,” Sammy said, holding her even tighter as she pressed her face into his chest. He helped her tight, ad when she pulled away, he hated the feeling of letting her go. This werewolf had stolen a piece of his heart a long time ago. “Don’t apologise for that, Ari. Never.” He insisted firmly, squinting in the dark to her. “No one’s hunting you anymore? Ari, that’s fantastic! Agh, same as ever. New eye in the sky, same old Ace. It’s been a pretty quiet old time for me. Mainly I’ve been looking forward to all those prom photos you promised me.”

Ariana let out a breath as she tried to keep herself from grimacing as he spoke. Ace meant well and really was just so sweet, there was literally no way he could have known that prom night had been the worst night of her life so far. If things hadn’t turned out so tragically wrong, she would have even found how eager he was to see photos from the evening endearing. Fuck. “Fantastic, right,” she started, voice not all that convincing as she pulled out her phone to show him some of the photos. She half wanted to just tell him what happened, but a bigger part of her just wanted to have a nice, light-hearted evening with the mysterious friend she’d made in the forest. She scrolled through a couple of the pictures, showing him as she went. Her purple hair had been done up in a bun and black headband that perfectly matched her long, black dress. She’d looked so… happy. Then she realized she went back too far when she came up on the ones of her and Celeste, quickly throwing the phone down and cringing as she heard the sound of her screen hitting the root of a tree. She hadn’t even realized her eyes were welling up as she shakily said, “Shit, I shouldn’t have--” Her gaze fell down to her unsteady hands, completely ignoring the fallen phone, and instantly felt bad for making him worry about her yet again.

It didn’t sound that fantastic when she said it like that. Sammy bit his doubt into his cheek, swinging himself around to peer over Ariana’s shoulder. “You’re right, that dress is amazing,” he commented idly, from what they’d talked about last time. But the more they flicked through a myriad of faces, the more stiff Ari became. The more uncomfortable. He flinched back, heart hammering, when she flung her phone to the ground. For a split second, he’d seen someone else’s rage. But this was Ari. She was… she was fine. “It’s okay. Ari, it’s okay.” His voice didn’t quite sound it. Sammy picked up the phone. The screen was cracked to hell, but the photo of Ariana next to that woman was still there, smiling up at him, like a dream team. It looked, well, normal. Not something that would make someone cry, unless… well, fuck, there were a lot of reasons someone would well up at the sight of an ugly photo. “Ariana, what’s up? What happened? You can tell me.”

All she had wanted was a nice normal night with Ace and here she was throwing her phone and crying over prom photos. Ariana should have known the photos would be a bad idea. There’d been a reason she hadn’t gone through them herself, but seeing the last photo she and Celeste would ever take together had brought on a new wave of grief that she hadn’t quite been ready to ride. Not now. Her breath was hitched in her throat and he seemed so concerned. He deserved an answer for the outburst that had clearly startled him. She tried to keep her breathing even and blink away the tears. “I’m sorry- I didn’t mean to-- Prom was-- Something bad happened,” she gasped for another breath as if would calm the erratic thudding of her heart in her chest, “I’m not being hunted anymore because they already--” Her voice cracked and she hadn’t realized her fists had been clenched in her lap. She stretched out her shaking hands, trying to force some of the tension out of her body. Trying to find the strength to say the words she hadn’t even wanted to believe. She took a deep breath in and out, forcing herself to say the rest, “Th-they shot me with some sort of weird dart outside the hotel and took me away to some warehouse. The photo was Celeste, my sis-- She’s dead. She died saving me.”

“Ari?” Sammy swallowed, hating how awkward his body felt as he reached for her, faltered. His happy go lucky facade failing him as tears sprung in her eyes. “Something- wha-” THe words kept catching, and none of it was sinking in. They’d already what? They’d already what?? And yet part of him knew. He remembered his first hunt. Thirteen, and only half way through had his parents realised as he crumpled under the weight of a newly risen spawn that he’d been faking all those super powers all along. His family, they weren’t like that, they didn’t just hunt for the sake of it, but when they hunted. Fuck. His body trembled. Shit. There were supposed to clever words springing to his head. Something kind and comforting that would make her laugh in a sad way and then the moment would be over. “Shit. Ari, that’s so shitty.”

“It is,” Ariana managed to choke out as she wiped the tears away from her eyes. When was this going to get easier? Saying the words out loud felt like pouring salt into a still open wound every single time and she hated it. Then here was Ace, normally so positive even throughout whatever his sketchy predicament was, looking so sad for her. So at a loss for how to help because really, there was no helping it. All there was to do was to go through it and feel the loss every time it crept up on her. She took another deep breath in and out, steadying herself again. “I’m--,” she started, but realized he wouldn’t expect her to apologize for this, “I just wanted a normal night together so I didn’t start with that. Well, normal for us.” She added the last part, realizing their meetings weren’t what most would classify as normal, but she always looked forward to them. Always felt a small surge of excitement whenever they actually made it to their spot on the same night.

That’s so shitty. Real man of words there, Sammy. This, as Lydia would say, was why he wasn’t with her for his skill with words. Here was what he could do, though, which wasn’t fucking much at all, considering all his money was stolen from Lydia’s wallet and he could only get out a few nights a month. He could be there for her, right now. “Yeah, well, normal for us aint all that normal. Especially right now. I mean, you saw the eye in the sky, right?” He cracked a wry smile, and then curled his arms round her, ever so carefully. “C’mon. You don’t have to be okay right now.”

Maybe he wasn’t the best with words, but Ariana found herself letting out a chuckle as Ace spoke. Even if there were still tears in her eyes, something about Ace just being Ace was comforting. There wasn’t anything anyone could really do to make things better. She didn’t need better though. She just needed reasons to get up every morning, no matter how big or small they were. Well, Ace was more of a reason to stay out later than she should at night, but still, it helped. “You’re not wrong. Fuck that eyeball sun. All I’m saying is the moon would never.” Her smile and voice were still a little shaky. How gently Ace put his arms around her was welcomed and she leaned into him, feeling her heartbeat slow as she relaxed a bit. “I know I don’t have to be. I’m just so sick of being sad, you know?”

“The moon better not!” Sammy replied, with something that might have been a grin in any other situation, but right now was closer to a grimace. He just squeezed her tighter, cradling her in his arms as they stood in those woods. Trees creaked and at times he thought the shadows had eyes, but holding her tight, there wasn’t much here of which he was frightened. “Yeah, I know, what that’s like. That just doesn’t get rid of the sad. You just get to have feelings next to the sad too.”

There was no escaping the constant ache Ariana felt these days, but in this moment it wasn’t front and center. The feeling of his arms squeezing her even tighter sent something akin to a flutter through her chest. Even with the constant hint of sadness in the background, it was a nice moment. She could relish in the comforting sounds of the woods humming around them and how familiar Ace’s scent was becoming. Even if it was only for a few minutes, she felt okay. “Feelings next to the sad, that can work. Or it’s working,” she mumbled, head still tucked into his arms before looking back up at him, tears mostly faded away, “I am happy to see you and know we’re both okay. I know you’re not able to talk about things and I have kind of a hunch on why, but I do worry about you, too.”

“Yeah, just feel all of it.” Sammy said, tucking his chin over his heads. He held her until she looked up at him, and shit, the heartbreak in her eyes almost knocked him out all by themselves. I’ve got you, he wanted to say, but like hell he did. Only out a few nights a month, missing her half the time. “Yeah. Please don’t do anything with that hunch. I’m safe. Well,” he huffed a laugh, “As safe as any scrawny guy like me wandering these kindsa woods at night before I find my protective wolf in shining armour. Do you have like, shit, pack? Is that the right word? Or people as a whole supporting you?”

There was concern still etched in her features as he told Ariana to not do anything with her suspicions. It was a little bit late for that, but she had every intention to make sure he was not only safe, but free to live his life as he pleased. She gave his arm a squeeze and agreed anyway. It was probably safer if he didn’t know she planned to help him. “If you say so. Please tell me if you do need help though. I pack quite the punch, but I’ve got a lot of contacts, too.” She wasn’t about to lose someone else she cared about if she could do anything to help it. She lightened the mood a little bit with an arched brow and a smirk as she retorted, “You’re not that scrawny. I do like the wolf in shining armor part though.” She intended to live up to it. “Oh, yeah, I have a pack now and a pretty big found family. Lots of wolves, a few witches, a selkie, a zombie, a banshee, and hey, even won over a werewolf hunter because I’m that adorable.”

Sammy didn’t point out that he wouldn’t be able to point out that he literally couldn’t tell her either way, but he didn’t need help. He only liked sneaking out at night, he’d never… leave Lydia, or betray her. “Thanks, Ari.” He gave her another squeeze. Looking down at himself, he snickered. “Uh, yeah, I am. Skin and bones.” He grinned at her. “I like the wolf in shining armor too.” He leant them against a nearby tree, arm slung over the tree. “You know, half that list could be made up and I wouldn’t be able to tell. I’m real glad you’ve got people looking out for you like that, in the day time.”

Ariana had her doubts that he’d be able to tell her if he needed her help, it didn’t matter too much. She was going to look out for him whether he knew it or not. “Anytime,” she reassured. Ace was a bit skinny and she had to chuckle a bit at his own observation. “Okay, maybe a little scrawny, but you’re still a cute forest Batman.” She nudged his arm jokingly, still grinning a bit. “Now I’m disappointed that I didn’t say I have a pet dragon or something. But yeah, I’m definitely safe-- and hey, I’ll know if I’m ever going to die soon because of the banshee. So looks like you’re stuck with me for a while, Ace.” She followed his lead, leaning into him and the tree and found herself feeling content that they’d get to spend this evening together. She’d missed all their late night chats and she had every intention of making sure nothing got in the way of them. For now, she’d enjoy the present moment in their spot under a sparkling night sky.

#wickedswriting #sammy #ace #batman and the wolf in shining armor

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artificialqueens · 5 years

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Exercise in Folly 2.0 - 2.2 (Craquaria) - SamWhity

Title: Exercise in Folly 2.0 Summary: Monét looked at her with disbelief, before sighing: “Giovanni never saw the damn video. He dodged the whole thing like a pro because he was trying to be your friend”. “He’s my friend”. Cracker’s answer came without any hesitation, so natural and passionate that the other queen smiled softly. “Cracks…” Summary of the chapter: Lunch at Monét’s turns out to be quite the conversation. Between live-rants and breakups, there’s always time for a little heart to heart with the Bronx’s most beloved dragqueen. Author’s note: The italian words mamma, tesoro, balle and coglione mean respectively: mum, honey (or sweetheart), bullshit (or lies… à la: Liza Minelli lies) and asshole (if it’s used as an insult. Otherwise it could be translated with ball or testicle). Again, the whole Jordan-drama is completely fabricated for plot purposes. Cracker’s posts however can be easily found on his FB-page, if you have enough time to scroll through them all. Chapter 1 - Chapter 2.1

What have I become My sweetest friend Everyone I know Goes away in the end And you could have it all My empire of dirt I will let you down I will make you hurt (Johnny Cash, Hurt)

The vibration of his phone caused Giovanni to wake up. The young man grumbled, before stretching his arms and deciding he might as well sleep another ten minutes. A second vibration made him groan: what the hell was going on? He took the smartphone from his night stand and started reading.

Jordan, 09:13 am: I’ll come in the afternoon and start putting my stuff in boxes.

Jordan, 09:13 am: Just letting you know.

He sighed, before answering with a quick thumb up and throwing the phone on the other side of the bad.

“Damn it”, he murmured, closing his eyes and breathing deeply.

He wanted nothing more than to enjoy his day off in peace, without petty drama and bullshit. However, karma seemed to be on his case once again. A new vibration made him scoff.

“Oh for fuck sake!”, he groaned, then he proceeded to read.

Francesca, 09:16 am: Mamma said you are off today. I don’t have classes for another hour and I could use some of your non-existing humour. Skype?

He quickly typed a reply.

Giovanni, 09:16 am: Of course, baby. Are you okay? What happened?

His phone lit up once again, this time with an incoming Skype-call. He answered quickly and took a good look at his sister.

“Francesca”, he asked concerned, “are you actually sitting alone on a bench with puffy eyes?”.

The other one sniffed, before shaking her head.

“Allergies”, she mumbled, then she blew her nose.

“Balle”, he cut her off “What happened, tesoro?”.

The girl started sobbing uncontrollably, making his worries grow by the second.

“Baby”, he tried to soothe her, “Breathe, okay? I’m here. Take a deep breath, it’s all going to be okay”.

In the following half hour, Giovanni listened to his sister’s sad break-up story and tried as best as he could not to show her how angry and upset he actually was. His baby sister was an incredibly smart and hard-working woman and she certainly did not deserve to be treated like that.

“How can I trust people?”, Francesca asked between sobs, “How can I possibly trust anyone ever again?”.

The young man sighed, uncertain about what to say.

“Tesoro”, he murmured affectionately, “Not everyone will hurt you. And those who do hurt you are not deserving of your time, let alone your affection”.

The other one’s small nod made him smile.

“It is going to be okay, I promise”, he added.

Francesca blew her nose loudly, making him chuckle.

“Do you want me to call dad?”, Giovanni asked, perfectly aware of the deep connection between David Palandrani and his daughter.

The other one shrugged, before answering: “I guess… would you?”.

“Of course, baby”, he smiled, “Don’t worry about it, I’ll do it”.

“How do you trust people?”.

His sister’s question left him dumbfounded and, at the same time, made him wince. Needless to say, he was not the best person to consult with in case of trust issues and doubts. He suddenly felt way younger and afraid of failing one of the most important people in his life.

“I guess you go with your guts”, he mumbled tentatively, before lowering his gaze and closing his eyes for a split second.

“Did it work with Jordan?”, Francesca asked, looking at him with concern.

Giovanni sighed.

“In the beginning, I guess”, he answered, before adding: “Don’t worry about Jordan now, tesoro. It’s all good. It’s great, actually”.

An incoming work-related call saved the young man from further questioning and the two said their goodbyes with the promise of catching up the following day.

“Just to make sure you’re okay”, Giovanni said.

He spent the following twenty minutes on the phone with IMG Models, scheduling photo-shoots and modeling-related appointments.

“Please, be mindful of your weight and measurements”, the secretary of the agency reminded him, before ending the phone-call.

“Well, no shit Sherlock”, he mumbled to himself, before noticing it was already almost eleven and he needed to get ready.

He sent a message to his father, before getting up and making his way to the kitchen.

Giovanni, 10:47 am: Francesca just called crying. That coglione broke up with her and she’s inconsolable.

He then put the kettle on and made himself a cup of tea, before picking up a pair of jeans and a jumper and starting to get dressed. Kevin lived not to far away from him: he might as well walk to the other’s apartment and get a good hour of exercise in. He sipped on his tea and scrolled through his Instagram feed, stopping to take a look at Nicola’s stories and smile at the sight of the man lounging in the sun of Las Vegas.

“He has not answered yet”, he murmured to himself and shrugged, “Maybe he wants to talk about it in person”.

A vibration interrupted his thought-process.

Monét X-Change, 11:23 am: Can you please bring some wine? Yuhua drank it all! :O

Giovanni chuckled, before answering.

Aquaria, 11:23 am: White or red?

The text he received made him cackle loudly.

Monét X-Change, 11:24 am: Wine.

Aquaria, 11:25 am: I’ll take care of it, no probs.

Quickly, the young man went to his bedroom to take his jacket and his wallet. With the phone still in his hand, he quickly closed the door to his room and locked it, before putting the key in his pocket and quickly making his way to the front door.

He exited his apartment, checked his pockets one last time and locked the door behind him, before making his way to the elevator and pressing the button. Once out of the building, Giovanni looked briefly around before deciding the wine from the bodega was good enough for his lunch with Kevin. Neither of them understood anything about wines and there was little to no point in trying to impress his friend.

“He will drink regardless”, he mumbled to himself, while entering the little shop and smiling at the cat lounging next to the register.

The young man quickly found a bottle of Pinot and paid for it, then he exited the shop and started walking.

“Bitch!”.

Kevin engulfed him in a tight hug, before putting the wine on the small entry-table and hugging him again.

“It’s good to see you”, the younger one murmured with a smile, before taking a good look around and commenting: “I see you have settled in pretty comfortably”.

The other one nodded, before making his way to the kitchen and putting the wine on the table.

“Come sit!”, he beckoned Giovanni to follow him, “Come on, take a seat and eat something!”.

His enthusiasm was almost contagious.

In that exact moment, Aquaria’s phone vibrated.

“Sorry”, he mumbled, “I’ll put it away immediately. Promise.”

Jordan, 01:05 pm: You really closed the door? Really?

Jordan, 01:05 pm: I don’t know what you think you’re doing but it’s ridiculous.

Jordan, 01:06 pm: You are ridiculous.

He sighed, before setting the device on “do not disturb”.

“Everything okay?”, Kevin’s voice startled him.

He managed to smile weakly, before nodding.

“Of course, don’t worry”, Giovanni lied, knowing fully well the other one would have never bought it, “It’s honestly no big deal”.

The older one sighed, before taking the bottle and the glasses and making his way to the living room.

“Sit here and wait for me, okay?” he instructed the other one.

In a couple of minutes, the two were comfortably sitting on the couch with a glass of wine and some food on a little tray.

“Okay”, Kevin started with a small smile, “What is it happening?”.

It was a simple question, however Giovanni did not really know where to start. He closed his eyes for a brief second, trying to calm himself enough to put a few words together in a coherent sentence. Exactly in that moment, a flashback of his fight with Jordan made him wince slightly.

“Baby…”, his friend’s voice sounded worried, while he asked tentatively: “What happened in London?”.

The younger one sighed, before taking a deep breath and asking: “What did you hear about it?”.

The other one bit his lower lip, then he answered.

“That you fired him in London and he wants to get sober in LA”.

There was a tentativeness to Kevin’s voice that made Giovanni snort.

“Come on”, he said, “You can do better than this”.

The other one took a deep breath, before nodding.

“Okay, full tea”, he started, “I heard that you freaked out and screamed at him in the car, after the gala. I heard that you fired him on the spot and had to fly on your own while he was staying in London with some guy. Someone speculates you two were fucking and things went sour, someone thinks it’s about money”.

Not receiving any kind of answer, he continued: “Someone says it’s because of drugs and someone else was implying he caused a scene at the Gala and embarrassed you. Since I came back from touring, there is this constant chatter about the two of you and how you should have never worked together…”.

The sob on the other side made Kevin stop, dead on his tracks.

“Oh baby”, he murmured, before hugging the other one and adding: “I’m sorry”.

Giovanni shook his head, before breaking the hug and looking for a tissue in the pocket of his trousers. Once he found it, he wiped his tears and took a deep breath.

“It was so bad”, he murmured, incapable of cancelling those hours from his mind, “I did not know what to do, I was alone and had no idea how to help”.

He instinctively looked for his friend’s hand and squeezed it, before continuing: “The management called the very same evening and it was so humiliating…”.

Kevin nodded, before handing him a new tissue and prodding: “What did Jordan say, after that?”.

The other one scoffed, trying to contain his hurt and failing badly at it.

“He asked me how I dared, he questioned my work and said I would have never survived without him”, he answered, “I never saw him acting or speaking like that”, he then murmured before lowering his head.

Monét nodded, before sighing.

“I’m sorry baby”.

Giovanni nodded and mumbled a small “Thank you”, before blowing his nose.

They spent a couple of seconds in relative silence, before the younger one started speaking again.

“I really thought it was a phase. I thought I could help”, he sighed, “However I can not put my whole career in jeopardy because of Jordan’s issues”.

The older one nodded.

“You did the right thing, Giovanni”, he then murmured and hugged his friend once more.

“Can I have a sip of wine?”, the younger one asked weakly, before wiping away his own tears once again.

Kevin handed him a full glass with a smile, before taking a sip himself.

“It will get better, eventually”, he said, before taking a deep breathe and asking: “Do you want to talk about the video during the interview?”.

Seeing that the other one was still moping he quickly added: “You don’t have to, but maybe it would make you feel better”.

Giovanni nodded, before getting up.

“I just need a small break… can I use the toilet?”.

Ten minutes later, the two men were sitting on the sofa and munching on some Thai food.

“Thanks for the food”, Giovanni murmured, before taking a small sip of his wine and continuing: “Do you mind if I check my phone quickly?”.

The other one shook his head, so he took his phone out of his pocket and looked for messages or missed calls.

Jordan, 02:03 pm: I left the boxes in my room

Jordan, 02:03 pm: I’ll pick them up later this week

He sighed, before replying with a thumb up and continuing reading.

Nicola, 02:07 pm: Is our dinner still on? What about eight at mine?

He quickly sent an answer back, before noticing that the message he sent the night before had somehow disappeared.

“Weird”, he murmured.

Giovanni, 02:10 pm: Of course! You know I never turn down sushi! See you later! Xoxo

He locked the screen, before putting his phone back in his pocket.

“Do you want to talk about it?”, Monét asked softly, looking at him with concern.

The other sighed, before biting his lower lip.

“I don’t know what to say”, he murmured, “I did not want to be in the position of questioning our friendship again, you know?”, he added, sounding incredibly tired and almost spent.

“It’s like the old days, before things went sour”, he continued after having taken a small sip of his wine, “I don’t know if I can trust him and it’s like… it’s like a constant reminder that I’m not good enough”.

“That is bullshit”, Kevin cut him off, “You and Cracker should really stop with this not good enough crap”.

The other one mumbled something, before putting the wine glass down and taking a small piece of bread and starting nibbling at it.

“Do you feel like telling me what do you mean by like the old days?”, the older one asked softly, trying to understand his friend’s point of view as best as he could.

Giovanni took another small bite at his piece of bread, before answering.

“There were moments when I felt made fun of”, he then confessed, “He used to post dumb shit on Facebook and write a comment saying something like… mh… wait until Aquaria likes it. Or let’s see how long it will take before Aquaria will like this post”.

He shrugged, before continuing.

“I constantly felt the pressure of being this mature man when I was barely twenty and it got me in the worst way possible”, he suddenly realised, “Even comparing our style and make-up felt like a dig”.

There was sadness in those words, and shame. There was the realisation their friendship could have been saved years before them being on a reality TV show. They just needed to talk openly to one another, for once. There was a taste of bitterness as well, because somehow the young man was asking himself if it was too late to mend those wounds.

“You should talk to him”, Kevin’s voice startled him, “I am sure he would love to know what is happening in your smart little head”, he then finished with a soft smile and clear affection in his voice.

“I am sure he’s okay. He seems to be doing pretty good nowadays”, the other’s reply made him scoff loudly.

“You two are really something else”, he commented shaking his head, before hugging Giovanni once more and patting his back: “Thanks for sharing that with me”, he finally added for good measure.

The younger one’s phone vibrated a couple of times, making the two break the hug.

Rémy, 02:35 pm: He’s losing it again.

Rémy, 02:35 pm: Have you seen Jordan’s live?

Rémy, 02:36 pm: I have no idea how to stop this nonsense but someone should.

Quickly opening Instagram and selecting Jordan’s latest Instastories, Giovanni was presented with a live video of his former room-mate. He was clearly intoxicated and sitting in a room the young man was not familiar with. He was talking to his and Aquaria’s viewers and mumbling words.

“You know, I really wish him the best. Even though he is a sly little brat and can not for the love of God survive on his own. Did you know he hangs around his friends all the time because he is afraid of being alone? Because he is, let me tell you. Funny because he has no problems chasing them off of his life, if they don’t fit his perfect little sanitized lie. He’s an hypocrite little piece of…”.

The video suddenly stopped. Kevin took his friend’s phone, close the App and put it on the table before he could witness the rest of that rant. He then moved closer to Giovanni and put a hand on his arm.

“I’m sorry, baby”, he murmured, then he continued with a sterner voice: “But you should stop watching this shit, or caring. You know who you are, you know how much hard work you put into everything you do. Think about it and let the rest go”.

Biting his lower lip, the other one nodded before getting up and taking his jacket.

“My apartment should be free now”, he announced, “I might as well go back to it and do some work”.

In a couple of minutes, the conversation was over and he was out of Kevin’s apartment. When the wind started blowing making him shiver, Giovanni suddenly realized something: he didn’t. He didn’t know who he was, let alone who Aquaria was. Not anymore. Not after all that. Not when he struggled so hard to keep himself together without crumbling after just a couple of low blows.

“Shit”, he murmured, wiping away a single tear.

#craquaria #slowburn #miz cracker #aquaria #monet x change #rpdr fanfiction #exercise in folly #samwhity #canon compliant #s10

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albion-93 · 6 years

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RWBY: Family Lost and Found

In this story, an alternate take on the RWBY setting with a few changes, Oscar Pine is a student at Beacon Academy, and now at Ruby’s age. Unfortunately, he has been allocated into a team that bullies and disregards him at every turn. He ran away from the school, but not without Ruby, Pyrrha and Jaune in pursuit.

“OSCAR! WHERE ARE YOU??”

The normally sweet voice of Ruby Rose had become hoarse and tinged with fear and increasing stress as she sprinted across the empty streets of the City of Vale in search of Oscar Pine. Her urgency drew many concerned and confused onlookers of the Residential District just outside of Beacon Academy. The lights of the windows on the long rows of terraced houses gave off a faint, cool glow in the midnight air. It was unusual for the young Huntsmen of Beacon Academy to venture into the streets at night, and she was worried that Professor Ozpin would hear about this particular exploit and be none too pleased about it.

Running behind her as fast as they could run yet struggling to keep up, were Pyrrha Nikos and Jaune Arc. The young warriors retained her focus and composure throughout, pausing to catch their breath and survey the streets around them. Ruby stopped to catch her breath and looked around some more; still no sign of him. Frantically glancing around, Ruby’s knees began to quiver as panic and dread welled up inside her.

“Where could he be?” she said nervously. The three of them could certainly handle a fight against a few common criminals, but they knew that Oscar was not the best fighter.

“Don’t worry, we’ll find him,” said Pyrrha reassuringly, patting Ruby’s shoulder, “certainly before someone like Roman Torchwick does!”

“Or even with the rest of his so-called team,” said Ruby bitterly, “I asked if they had any idea where he went but they just laughed and said they didn’t care!”

“I mean, can you blame him for running off? The rest of Team CSMO are pretty much allergic to decency,” said Jaune indignantly, “But the worst of them is that Corwin guy, makes Cardin Winchester look like a pre-schooler!”

Pyrrha stared at Jaune incredulously.

“Or at least I assume he does, I’ve never met him in person,” he said sheepishly, “Don’t worry, I learned my lesson!”

“Hey guys, come here! Look at this!” Ruby called out further up the street, evidently having regained her breath. Jaune and Pyrrha caught up; Ruby was holding a multi-coloured woollen quilt. They stood at a crossroads, one route headed towards the river, and others leading deeper into the city.

“Oh man, poor guy,” murmured Jaune, exchanging a worried chance with Pyrrha.

“He can’t be far away!” exclaimed Ruby, now barely able to contain herself from bursting off in another direction.

“Hold on, Ruby. If he’s close by, I suggest we split up; we might be able to find him more quickly. If any of us sees Oscar, get your scroll out and we’ll meet up,” said Pyrrha.

The rest of the trio nodded in agreement and took each route on the crossroads.

Pyrrha walked up the street for almost an hour, noticing that it was starting to slope downhill. The noise of the city had died down, and the moon shone its ominous frame over the streets. Soon the sound of rushing water grew louder; she was near the river. She turned a corner and saw a solitary lamppost and bench overlooking the river and a small figure seated on it; his skinny arms folded around his legs, his dark hair unmistakable in the lamplight. She sighed in relief and smiled, quickly texting that she had found him and giving her location to Ruby and Jaune. Not wanting to startle the boy, she walked up gently towards him.

“Hello, Oscar,” said Pyrrha pleasantly, but Oscar didn’t even turn around in surprise.

“Oh. Hey, Pyrrha, how are you?” said he in a low numb voice. His arms folded even tighter around his legs and he stared blankly across the vibrant cityscape across the river.

“Well, I’d honestly feel a lot better if I knew what was troubling you,” said Pyrrha in a conversational tone, expectantly waiting for him to stand up, “It’s not safe to be walking these streets at night.”

“What makes you think something’s troubling me?” he said defensively, avoiding eye contact.

“Now, Oscar,” said Pyrrha patiently, “don’t you think it’s obvious that if someone’s sitting alone on a cold night that it’s a sign that all isn’t well for them? Ruby’s really worried about you.”

“Well, aren’t you quite a detective. Look, just leave me alone, will you?!” he snapped.

“No.”

Stepping closer, Pyrrha stared at him with a mixture of disappointment and frustration. That extra level of firmness bordering on anger startled Oscar. He immediately dropped façade of anger and petulance, slowly turned around and stared up at Pyrrha. His eyes were reddened from crying and lack of sleep, his uniform was a disheveled mess and his cheeks were stained by dried tears. Seeing his distress, Pyrrha immediately dropped her stern expression as she saw a fresh stream of tears forming in Oscar’s eyes. She sat down beside him and extended her arm over his shoulders, holding him tightly. All the while, Oscar’s sharp intakes of breath attempted to stifle the sobbing.

“What I think you need is someone to talk to. So please talk to me,” she said softly.

Oscar let his legs fall limply to the ground, and leaned into Pyrrha’s shoulder, still blankly staring outwards. While they sat in silence, many thoughts flooded Oscar’s mind. He knew full well that she wanted to help him, but it was as if there was something in him that only wanted that state of misery to continue. Finally he spoke up.

“You know about Corwin and his team, but I was able to put up with them because I could always talk to you guys. Now, I just don’t want to deal with it anymore. Ever since Professor Ozpin admitted me into Beacon Academy, it feels as though everything’s been happening way too fast. It’s not the studying or the training, or even my so-called “team mates.�� There’s a reason why I lived with only Auntie Em. The week before I enrolled, my aunt and uncle divorced. They wouldn’t tell me why, but I heard their long arguments late at night, saw my aunt crying herself to sleep and my uncle go silent and emotionless. It sounded like Uncle Henry had… been seeing another woman.”

“That’s awful!” she gasped, looking visibly shaken, “I don’t think I’d be able to even look at my father if he did something like that to my mother. I’m really sorry, Oscar.”

“I know what he did wasn’t right at all but I still can’t decide whether I want to forgive him or not. I never knew my parents, and for as long as I knew them they really were a great couple. They always held the best family parties with all the extended family from across Mistral. Now, all of that feels broken. Auntie Em told me that she never wanted to see him again, I got angry and upset, we got into a fight and I ended up leaving her on a sour note.”

Oscar’s voice became slower and hoarser as he related his story, new tears streaking down his face. Pyrrha got up and wrapped her arms around him tight. He shook and sobbed for a few minutes until the worst of it passed. She clasped his cheeks so that he was looking directly at her.

“Look at me, whatever happened between your aunt and uncle is not your fault. You can’t change it, but you can still become a great huntsman.”

“I’m not even sure that’s what I want, Pyrrha,” he glanced towards the river. Pyrrha looked behind her and saw what he meant, growing pale at the thought. But before she could act, a light, sorrowful voice broke the silence.

“You really are hard on yourself, aren’t you?”

Oscar turned around, sat still for a moment and then quickly bolted up. Ruby Rose had quietly sat herself down next to them, and Jaune stood sorrowfully behind her.

“Ruby!” exclaimed Oscar, bolting up and looking at Ruby like a deer frozen in headlights.

“WAIT! Don’t run away!” she cried loudly, darting forward and grabbing his arm a little too roughly, “We’ve been looking all over for you!!”

“Oscar, we overheard pretty much the whole story about your aunt and uncle. We thought you were running away because of your team,” said Jaune earnestly, “we can still fix that.”

“Why didn’t you tell us or one of the professors?” asked Ruby, her voice wavering.

“I… I don’t really know… I thought I’d just deal with it, by myself. But I couldn’t. Every time I saw you or any of your friends training or just walking by I wanted to call out, let it out. But the more I buttoned it up the more, and the worse it got.” murmured Oscar, casting his eyes down in guilt, his voice becoming more frantic as he went on, “I got scared, scared that I’d fail as a huntsman and disappoint everyone who ever cared about me. What if I end up making all those same mistakes as Henry? What if I try too hard and end up pushing her away? Or worse what if all that happens when I’m much older and… you guys, Weiss, Yang, Nora and all the others, you won’t ever to talk to me again after that.”

“Oscar, none of that has happened, and it probably never will!” said Ruby, trying her best to reassure him.

“Wait, pushing who away??” said Jaune.

Oscar didn’t answer immediately and instead locked eyes with each of them. His heavy breathing subsided until it became a long sigh.

“Ruby,” he said at last.

Ruby gasped and stared, and Pyrrha’s eyes went wide and she covered her mouth.

“Wait, are you saying-” began Jaune, dumbfounded.

“Yes,” he said quickly, “its’ true. You’re the reason why I haven’t left the city, Ruby. Because how can anyone run away from the one person who could light up a whole castle with her smile alone?”

Ruby stood transfixed, unable to speak, many conflicting emotions filling her silver eyes. After a few seconds, a glimmer of a smile started to appear on Oscar’s face, and even flushes of red restored to his cheeks before speaking again this time without any sadness in his voice.

“I’m really sorry, guys, I shouldn’t have run away. Can you forgive me?”

“Oscar, listen to me very carefully,” said Ruby gently, her cheeks starting to flush, “Your team might be rotten, but there are people here who like you and want you to be okay. You’re not your uncle, and you’re not some thug’s punching bag. You are… a good person, and cute, and...”

“Ruby, focus!” exclaimed Pyrrha, before addressing Oscar, “We don’t blame you for all this. But remember this: no matter where you came from or what they say about you, you are a Huntsman. So we can’t change the past, but we can help you improve your future, starting right here and right now.

“Take it from me, kiddo, Pyrrha knows what she’s talking about,” said Jaune, looking to Pyrrha with a light-hearted wink, causing the red haired warrior to chuckle and grin, “So, what do you say we call go home and straighten this mess out?”

“That sounds great,” said Oscar at last, his tears dried and colour restored to his face.

At this, Ruby tackle hugged him causing him to lose his footing, eliciting coos from Pyrrha and a hearty laugh from Jaune. In a burst of rose petals and lightning fast movement, Ruby grabbed Jaune and Pyrrha and pulled them into a four way group hug, sandwiching Oscar, his eyes closed in contentment. Eventually they broke apart.

“Thank you, guys,” he said at last, smiling, “I needed it.“

Jaune playfully ruffled his hair and Pyrrha going in for one more hug, and began their journey back to Beacon. But Oscar held Ruby back under the lamppost for a moment. She handed him his multi-coloured quilt.

“This is for saving my life,” he said, taking Ruby’s hand and planting a brief kiss. He looked up nervously, but Ruby’s glimmering silver eyes quickened his heart with joy.

“And this is for not running away,” she said, giving him a full kiss on the cheek.

#rwby #rwby fanfic #rwby rosegarden #ruby rose #oscar pine #jaune arc #pyrrha nikos #some angst #fluff at the end #ruby rose x oscar pine #rosepine

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awfully-sadistic · 5 years

Text

Wanted

As usual, taking some liberties with my interpretation of characters. I hope it’s okay even if some of the details are... bent... to fit what I am trying to convey.

It was a funny thing to be thrust into the spotlight. You’re so popular, you’re suddenly wanted everywhere.

No. Wait. Let me take that back; It’s honesty horrible.

I am Spider-Noir. Peter Parker to those who know my identity which, let me tell you, has been an awful lot of people lately. That part doesn’t bother me. People I know and care for knowing who I am? Those very same people that understand the responsibility I have to shoulder? They’re great for the support.

What worries me are the avid fans I seem to be accumulating. But that’s not a new thing in New Senzannini. Superheroes and yes, even villains, have their own... fanbase.

I don’t understand it and I don’t think I ever will. I’m just regular ol’ Peter Parker. I grew up during the Great Depression and true to its name, everything about it was as depressing. That time period is a dark place and I cannot understand why anyone seems to glorify anything from that era and before that. But there’s probably a reason.

I recently saw a movie depicting myself and it was almost surreal. Don’t get me wrong, I enjoyed it. It was light-hearted, funny, and even had a nice message.

But me? I don’t get nice messages. The last “message” I got was my Uncle Ben, his mutilated body almost unrecognizable to me, tortured to death just for standing up for what he believed in.

I was almost a joke. Rubik cubes? Egg creams? Nicholas Cage? I don’t even sound like that.

Rubik cubes were something new. Never seen a nifty little toy like that before because, hello, it’s the Great Depression. What else am I going to do for entertainment? And egg creams are occasionally good just like how Dot Dreadful seems to enjoy her chocolate milk. She doesn’t drink it all the time, right? It’s a nice treat. I also enjoy a nice treat. And if I’m not careful, Spider-Noir is going to be synonymous with these things just like Wade Wilson and chimichangas, whatever those are. People take that way too far, Gwen has said the phenomenon was a meme. I was a meme.

Do you know what I like to do in my spare time? I like to head down to Felicia Hardy’s place and have myself a whiskey so I can get through another day. From there, I study my notes, my next plan of action. I like to find how I can nail the bastards that killed my uncle. But taking down crooks who work in an even more crooked government is hard work. Almost impossible.

I don’t think people really know me. I am not just “punching nazis” in my time. I was angry. I still am. People believe I see in black and white but I see in color. It’s like Noir has to be black and white but let me tell you that the world is not that simple.

However, despite not being in that era anymore, I’ve seen a lot of stuff happen. And a lot of stuff has happened to me. It’s hard to work out that anger, this... sadness. Ironically, this depression.

Wanted? This stardom has thrust me into something I don’t want. It’s put me in an awkward light where the only one I do want is slowly wanting nothing to do with me.

It’s horrible. It’s a curse. I didn’t ask for this but I’m dealing with it in the one way I know how: terribly.

“Damn, I don’t see you in here often, Pete. What have you done?”

Spider-Noir looked up, confused. He had been here for a couple of hours and Logan had been here right alongside with him. It was the curse of being popular. “Here” was the infamous Corner--which was a room itself since Dot couldn’t literally put faces to corners; there were only four of them and there were a lot of people who belonged in this room.

But it wasn’t Noir that had been addressed. The other Peter Parker took a seat next to himself, leaning heavily against his brethren with a forlorn sigh.

“I didn’t do anything,” the other Peter spoke up. The 616 version. He continued, “Wade did and once Dot finds that out, she’s going to come get me.”

Logan scoffed, “You sound like a princess waiting to be rescued.”

“Yeah, well, if it’s Dot, I don’t mind. Besides, who do you think is going to suffer when Wade’s put into this room?”

Logan dropped his cigar on himself and released a string of curses as the hot ash splattered on the front of his shirt. It didn’t burn him. The prospect of being stuck in a room with Wade never bode well for anyone. Peter grinned, looking quite pleased with himself before turning his attention to Noir.

“Hey Twin, are you still in here for being popular?”

“Yep.”

“Don’t worry, it’ll die down eventually. I had to do my own stint in here when my movies popped up. Or whenever comic Peter decided to do something stupid--and he did a lot of stupid things. Did you know comic Peter has a sister?”

“Did you know I had an uncle?”

Peter looked horrified before he replied, “You have a sick sense of humor.”

“I get it from you.”

The both of them looked at each other and then laughed. Logan groaned from the background. If there was anything worse than one Peter, it was two who thought they were funny.

“Why don’t you two get a room?”

“Technically, we’re already in one.” Peter quipped.

“And we outnumber you.” Noir tacked on.

Logan’s claws came out with a SNIKT and both Peters quieted down immediately. After a while of silence and because neither Peters could stay quiet for too long, Noir spoke up.

“So, what did that red guy do?”

Peter’s expression grew deadpanned. Both Peter and Noir looked alike; messy brown hair, hazel eyes, all the way down to the bone structure. Except 616 Peter was a little scruffy and Noir wore round, circular glasses which made him look even nerdier than usual. And they looked nothing like the adaptation in the Spider-Verse movie meaning Peter’s nose wasn’t broken and Noir wasn’t as Nicholas Cage-y. That was just another liberty, obviously. Noir was just a moodier, more reckless version of 616 Peter but just as sarcastic and lacked the self-esteem. So, as one can imagine, they got along... very well. So it was like looking in a mirror for Noir as he watched himself twist expressions while trying to recall the incident.

“Johnny thinks I stood him up and I didn’t get the chance to explain that it was Wade who prevented me from meeting him. I mean, I didn’t push to explain myself. But I wouldn’t leave Johnny standing in front of the Haus for three hours without a good reason! But Dot found out because word spread that he had been just standing there and comic Peter had been doing a greeeeeat job on making us look like a jackass. So, I guess she went to ask and got that story out of him. It certainly made me look bad.”

“I’m surprised Storm waited that long.” Noir said.

“You know, me too.” Peter grumbled, looking awfully guilty. He felt incredibly bad for having Johnny wait that long. That was his best friend after all and Johnny did so much for him. “Before I knew it, Dot was texting me to go wait in the Corner. Knowing what that was all about, I just went because I figured it would be better if it came out that Wade was the real reason I didn’t show up. Then Dot will feel really bad for me and...” Peter trailed off and it went unsaid that Dot would have showered him with affection for the misunderstanding. It wasn’t Dot’s fault that this was a thing, either. Sometimes scenarios played out like this so others would cheat their way to earning brownie points or even a chance to be treated especially well by her. She was wanted by every damn person in the Haus so one would have to play dirty to be treated special.

Peter’s plan was perhaps a little harebrained apparent by the sad shake of the Wolverine’s head in the background, having to listen to this. Noir, however, was 100% behind this plan.

“You should act super dejected, too.”

“Ohhh, twin! That’s a good one.”

“I bet she goes crazy with the puppy dog look.”

“Yeah, that’s also great. Keep it coming...” Peter said while jotting down the suggestions in his notepad. Once he saw that Cap had one, all of a sudden Peter Parker did, too. And it helped a lot when he wrote down jokes he thought of and usually quipped when he was alone and no one else was listening. His notepad even had a title: For a Rainy Day.

“Don’t want to guilt trip her that much, though. She’ll start to get suspicious if you lay it on thick.” Noir continued, looking over Peter’s notebook. It shouldn’t be said that Noir even had his own. But he usually cited “private eye business” despite Jessica Jones stating she never had one for hers.

“How about you two knuckleheads write in how stupid this all sounds.”

Peter stopped writing and the both of them eerily turned their heads towards Logan. He didn’t want to admit it but even that put him off a little.

“...What?” he asked, gruffly.

“Sorry we’re not all born with your amazing rough exterior, commanding presence, and stunted emotional depth. Some of us have to work harder than others.” Peter pointed out with his pen. Noir was nodding in support.

Logan rolled his eyes and went back to scrolling through his phone from his stretched out position in a hammock before he really was tempted to slice and dice everyone’s favorite quippy nerd. He’d just tone out the two dorks in the corner while he let this happen to him.

Peter looked over at Noir at this point, asking, “When are you going to use those puppy eyes on Dot? You’ve been in this corner since ...well, since everyone started to pit the two of us together.”

Noir shrugged; he wanted it to seem nonchalant since he wasn’t too bothered by the fact that he was in the Corner. It was peaceful than the alternative. But the fact that he was in the Corner because Dot’s image of him was slowly souring seemingly killed him inside. His brows furrowed in the middle, scrunching up the Parker expression with a contemplative look. “I thought I’d let her come to terms with it in her own way. If I try to force her, I think she’ll end up hating me even more.”

Peter tsk’ed, holding up a finger as he slung his other arm around his twin. “Lemme tell you something, uh, me. God, this is so weird when I’m not talking to my younger self...”

“It’s even weird you have a younger self.”

“I mean, there’s a lot of us so maybe it’s not that weird after all?”

“You have a point, me.”

“Thanks, me. You’re as smart as you are handsome.”

“If you two don’t fucking knock it off, I’m going to knock the both of ya heads off and place ‘em on the other’s body.”

Both Peters ignored Logan and Peter B. continued his train of thought. “If you play the nice guy role here, you’re really going to come in last.” Noir looked skeptical before Peter added, “I’m serious! I was nice when I came here. But now look at me,” he exclaims while holding up his notebook. “There are tons of schemes in here. Schemes!”

“You’re... still nice, Pete.” Noir told himself.

“...I don’t know about that, I think I have a little bit of a bad boy streak in me.” Peter said sulkily.

Logan scoffed from his spot. “Noir’s more edgy than you are.”

Noir looked happy about that. Peter, not so much.

“Neither are compliments,” Logan tacked on like an anvil that fell on Noir’s head. “You’re both still fuckin’ nerds.”

“Ouch,” Noir started.

“Our feelings.” Peter finished.

Logan finally shifted in his hammock, placing his long, sturdy legs over the side. His large upper-half sat crouched and he remained there, perched, while he stared over both Spider-Men. “For fuck’s sake.” he finally muttered like a disappointed parent. “You don’t need schemes. You’re a goddamn hero.”

“Wade plays dirty, Lo.”

“Don’t I know it. Just cut through him a couple of times,” Logan said, giving advice that both Peters would not have taken. It was only Wolverine advice Logan would ever use. “That’ll shut him up.”

“...That’s...” Noir struggled to find the right words.

“Pretty mean.” Peter supplied.

“I thought you were a bad boy, Pete.”

“...I can be,” he argued. “When I feel like it.”

“Sure.” Logan said in a way that made Peter bristle.

He sat up a little straighter and his tone pitched a slight whine. “I can be! Logan. Look at me. Hey, Logan.”

Logan was in the middle of lighting another cigar when he finally looked at Peter. Then, he pointed his cigar at the webslinger. “If you have to beg me to prove your point, you’re probably not cut out for this bad boy role.”

Noir gave Peter a pat on the back. “That’s alright, me. I can be edgy enough for the both of us.” There was a slight pause before Noir asked, “That’s a good thing, right? Edgy? That means what I think it means?”

“Yes.” / “No.” Peter and Logan said at the same time. The two merely stared at each other for a while before Peter spoke up again, giving Noir another nod. “Yes, yes it does. Logan doesn’t want to admit that he gave you a compliment because he’s out of touch with his feelings.”

Logan grunted. “Watch it, bub.”

“Thanks, Logan.”

“Whatever.” The Wolverine figured it was easier to go back to ignoring the two instead of trying to keep up with their strange, delusional conversation. If Peter and Noir wanted to believe they were as bad as they thought, he’d let them. It’d be amusing when they’d come to find out otherwise.

“You should try a stronger hand with her,” Peter said, bringing the conversation back to its heart. “You know as well as I do that she likes to be forced, sometimes.” Peter looked mildly embarrassed about that tidbit and a finger came up to bashfully scratch at the rough stubble covering his jawline. “Even I admit to getting a little forceful because... it’s really hard sharing her attention. I’ve had her webbed to the bed once because she was going out to see Otto... and you know about my webbing. She didn’t get out of it for hours. She was understandably not happy about that but... she didn’t see Otto, did she?”

Noir’s gaze widened from behind round glasses. “Maybe I ought to write that down, too.”

Peter laughed, “...Believe me, you’ll just act on it.”

“It’s okay to do these things?”

Peter looked conflicted. He obviously knew right from wrong and from the way he’s staunchly lived his life before, this was pretty hard to answer because then he’d end up sounding like a hypocrite. “...I mean, no... it’s not right but... it’s Dot. Rhyme or reason just doesn’t... apply here. I’ve found myself doing things I’ve never thought I’d do. Change my mind on things I never thought I’d budge on. It’s... different here.”

There was a moment of silence as the two Peters thought this over. Both so alike yet raised in different times and environments and backgrounds. If Peter could start toeing the line between his beliefs just for Dot, Noir thought he would also find himself doing the same. She certainly does make one question a lot. He never put much stock in changing out of love, or rather, he never understood that sentiment. How did the saying even go? Love changes people? Yeah. That. He was certain Peter would have felt the same before Dot. But now? Noir’s sure Peter has done some strange things out of desperation in her name and he couldn’t blame him. He also felt tempted to cross that line if only to step out of this Corner business, grab Dot by the shoulders and shake her, make her understand. Make her love him. Make her want him.

He shook his head free of these thoughts, for now. Instead, he replied with, “I think I understand.”

Peter gave Noir a supportive pat on the back. “Good. This has been a nice talk, huh?”

Noir gave Peter a genuine smile, “Yeah.”

The door opened and everyone’s eyes shifted at the movement. Dot slowly poked her head inside, looking a little sheepish. “Um...” she gazed at the faces, surprised to actually see anyone besides Peter in the room. “...Wait, what are you guys doing in here? I only sent Peter to the Corner today...”

Noir spoke up with a clearing of his throat, sounding like the usual Peter awkwardness. “I’m staying in the Corner until my popularity winds down.” He didn’t want to chance anything tipping the delicate balance where he might find himself thrown outside the Haus along with the riff raff at the front gates, still trying to get inside.

Dot looked taken aback. Slowly, the rest of her came into view as she started to walk in and settled the door closed behind her with a soft click.

“Noir...” she floundered for a bit because while there was the very real disturbance of his popularity spiraling out of hand, she knew he really had no hand in that. A major factor of the whole problem was seeing other people compare both Noir and Peter and yet, tear down Peter while hoisting Noir on a pedestal. It hurt to see that especially since she loved Peter in all of his incarnations, but she couldn’t help having a strong reaction to it. But she didn’t hate Noir. She felt bad, looking a little perturbed at the initiative he had shown by putting himself in the corner. “Love,” she put delicately with the emphasis on the term of endearment. She noted the way Noir seemed to sit up straighter at it. “I’m not punishing you over anything. I’m... I may be a little vocal about how everyone’s treating you and Peter but... that doesn’t mean I’m upset with you. It was never meant to be taken seriously, I’m sorry--”

“No, don’t do that.” Noir stood up and seemingly crossed the expanse of the Corner in one long stride. It took Dot wholly off-guard that she gently bumped into the door. Even Peter looked surprised, looking at the spot where Noir had been to where he was now.

“Do you have super spider speed, too, or what?” he asked, perplexed. Much like most of his quips, it went unheard. “Because that’s not fair.”

“Don’t... don’t do that.” Noir had all of Dot’s attention standing in her personal space, hesitant at first but finally taking her hands in his and giving them a squeeze that matched the almost pleading tone in his voice.

Dot swallowed dryly, having to crane her head back to get a better look at him. For some reason, Noir was taller than Peter? He was at least a head taller than his “twin” and boasted broader shoulders and a more thicker physique that she had assumed was mostly the trench coat. But he didn’t have one on. Noir dressed like he was still in the 1930′s when he went without his trench coat and Spider-costume. Right now, he was in a white button-up dress shirt, a vest, and slacks. It certainly catered to that nerdy aspect all Peter Parkers were known for. And Peter seemingly came in all shapes and sizes--if Peter Porker wasn’t proof enough. This was just the first time Dot had the thought force itself to the forefront of her mind.

“D-Do what?” Dot asked. She tried to seem unfazed by the close proximity but this was still Peter. It seemed in any incarnation, he was able to fluster her (even) sometimes.

“Apologize,” Noir frowned, unaware of the affect he had on her. This meant he still stood in her space, still held onto her hand afraid that she might pull it away at any second; his grip tightened that he hadn’t noticed. But Dot had. “It’s not your fault. I understand. I get upset hearing about people pit Peter and myself against each other, too.”

“Yeah, what’s up with that?” Peter asked from the background.

“If I could, I would have all of them stop. The last thing I want is Peter to get a bad reputation from all this.”

“Eh, I’m used to it.”

“So, I understand your feelings. I have them, too. That’s why I’m putting myself in the Corner so you don’t have to. So you can have the time you need to heal from all this booshwash and when you can decide when it’s okay to move on.”

“Whoa, your age is showing, Noir.”

Despite Peter’s commentary, Dot stared up at Noir, her heart squeezing at the desperate look on his face. She saw Peter but it was like she was seeing Noir for the first time. Like the shatter of glass, the illusion she had of him, the impression that had been circulating around nearly every social media outlet cracked. That wasn’t Noir. Noir was here, with her. Noir was her good boy, just like Peter was.

She smiled, no, beamed, at him gently pulling one of her hands away from his hands just so she can stretch up and rest it on his cheek. She noticed the way he responded immediately, closing his eyes and resting against the palm of her hand. “Thank you for explaining this to me, sweetheart. Now that I know what you’re doing, I want to reassure you that you don’t have to. I think... this just took me by surprise. Everyone always has something to say about Peter, I should be used to it--”

“Honestly, me too.”

Dot stopped talking and finally gave Peter her attention. “Honey. I swear to god.” but she was laughing. She hadn’t missed his commentary but she couldn’t NOT acknowledge it anymore. She returned her attention to Noir who had his eyes open again, searching Dot’s face as if trying to guess what she was going to say next. She picked up her smile and continued.

“I should be used to it and sometimes I even anticipate it but since I love Peter--since I love all of you guys--so much, I don’t know how to handle it ...better, sometimes. I ignore it, I push it away. I don’t want to have anything to do with it until I feel it’s safe for me to come back and pick up the pieces after everyone’s finished... abusing it. But what I should have been doing is protecting it.”

Noir had a soft expression on his face. There was no mistaking that he was his own person who had his own experiences and hardships even if he shared some of Peter’s features. It was actually tough to imagine this Noir the same as the one that has been circulating around.

“No one blames you for coping how you must. I’m sure it’s hard to have to be subjected to people’s opinions about us. It’s rough listening to people say Peter is a bad person or isn’t as good as the other Spider-people when... most of us share the same traits with him. It’s kind of insulting to us at the same time.”

“I know, love.” Dot reassured. “It’s nice that you guys stick together.” If she hadn’t seen both Noir and Peter hanging out as much as they did and be as supportive to each other versus what everyone says about the two, things probably would have turned out differently. Luckily, she wasn’t at that point where she had to push anyone away.

“But you don’t have to go to the Corner to ...punish yourself. Honestly, this place is for things people have done wrong, things that have already happened by your own hand. I put popular people in here more like a joke--” she paused as she realized something again. “Yeah, um, Logan. Why are you in here?”

Everyone shifted their gaze to Logan now. He had been trying to look as if he wasn’t paying attention. But now that the attention was on him, it was obvious he had been.

“Wait, he’s not supposed to be in here?” Peter asked. Dot shook her head and once again, there was another lapse of silence.

“What? Can’t I just be in here?” he asked with a gruff tone reminiscent of the gruff exterior he always boasted.

Dot perked an eyebrow.

“...I might have done something.”

Dot sighed heavily. Peter and Noir all of a sudden looked really interested. The big bad Wolverine was admitting he did something wrong? AND voluntarily checked himself into the Corner? Wooooow. Peter couldn’t keep the gleeful look off his face.

“What’d you do, Logan?” Peter asked, cozying up to the grouchy looking mutant. There was no regard for his safety as if Logan won’t push him off the hammock at any second.

“Nunya damn business.”

“Logan...” Dot warned using her disappointed Mom tone. She had dropped her hand but part of her refused to let go of Noir’s. Either for herself or Noir, she didn’t quite know but she was content on allowing herself to think she was doing it for him. To reassure him. But truthfully, it was reassuring to her as well.

“Babe.”

“Nah uh, don’t babe me. What did you do?”

Logan mumbled something as he looked away. Things that no one in the room caught... maybe perhaps Peter because he started to laugh, immediately.

“Oh! Man! I bet he looks ridiculous!”

“What?” Dot asked with a squinting gaze. “What did he say?”

Peter was too busy in semi-hysterics to even try to answer. Noir didn’t hear either but he might not have heard anything even if Logan had spoken clearly. Dot was willingly holding onto his hand and he was content to focus on that much. Logan, however, finally turned around to speak up.

“...I said I yanked Scott’s glasses off his head. He’s wanderin’ ‘round the Haus without ‘em on.”

Dot took a sharp intake of breath knowing she was going to have to deal with that. Helping Scott wasn’t the problem... not that there was a problem with Scott. The fact that as soon as he realized it was her, she was going to have a very separate “problem” on her hands. He was... awfully possessive and obsessively so. As soon as she snapped those red visors on his face again, he was going to be glued to her side. For now, she focused on the reason why Logan decided to act out.

“...Why?”

“Why not?”

“Golden,” Peter grinned, wiping his eyes. “Oh man. I wish I could see that.”

“Well, you might get your wish.” Dot sighed out. “Where are they, Logan?”

“Where are what? His glasses?”

“...Yes, love. His glasses.”

“...I’unno. Flung ‘em somewhere.”

Dot rubbed a hand over her face. She had an inkling it wasn’t going to be that easy as just handing them back to Scott. She knew Logan must have done something petty about it. She turned to Peter and Noir. “I was actually coming in to release you, Peter. Wade confessed. But now, can you help me find his glasses? Logan’s not leaving the Corner for the rest of the night.”

“Can I at least have my beer?”

“I don’t know Logan, can you?” Dot snapped back without much of a thought. She instantly regretted it as soon as she saw the darkening look on his face. “Y-You’re in trouble. You shouldn’t get anything.”

“Yeah, I came in here as a courtesy.”

Peter gasped, “You’re trying to earn brownie points with her too! What was all that “you’re a hero” business earlier then?!”

This time Logan did shove Peter off the hammock with one hand pushed at his face. Peter hit the ground all limbs and flailing with a semi-startled yelp. Dot didn’t even want to ask. Instead, she turned up to Noir.

“I guess it’s just going to be us then.”

Noir smiled and actually looked at ease for the first time... in a very long time, actually. “That’s perfectly fine. We can treat it like a case and retrace Logan’s steps.”

Dot looked interested in that. “Yeah? That sounds fun! I’m going to go borrow Jessica’s notebook--”

“Wait, she has a notebook?” Noir asked.

Dot nodded, wide-eyed. “Uh huh! She just got one and it’s nice and big.”

Both Noir and Peter looked offended, “She got a bigger notebook than us?!” they both said, weirding out Logan and making Dot double-take at the synchronicity.

“Can you guys not do that again?” Logan grumbled, laying back down in his hammock again. He put his arm over his face and figured he might as well catch up on some sleep. Peter was scrambling up to his feet, coming to stand besides both himself and Dot.

“We have to get bigger notebooks, too.”

Noir nodded in agreement but Dot looked skeptical.

“Why?”

“Because, sweetheart, it’s... just... it’s important.”

Again, Dot looked skeptical. “...because Jessica has a bigger notebook?”

Noir replied honestly, “Yes.”

Peter, however, replied differently.

“That’s definitely not the reason--Noir, you can’t just--You have to... Man, we have to work on that. You have to play it cool.”

Dot poked Peter in the chest. “I know for a fact you can’t keep anything cool. Remember that time Johnny told you a secret and what was the first thing you did?”

“...Told you?”

“Uh huh. Mr. Play-It-Cool.”

“But there’s no secrets between us,” Peter grinned, pressing his cheek against Dot’s and snaking an arm around her small, tiny tucked in waist. Dot was laughing as his gesture soon turned into affectionate nuzzles and small, butterfly kisses. Dot turned away because they tickled, still smiling, before her gaze landed on Noir.

“S-Stop taking notes!”

“...But Peter’s really cool right now.”

Peter straightened, his tone incredulous. “Really?!”

Dot rolled her eyes and the gesture seemed to match Logan’s groan in the background. She couldn’t help but give a little humorous laugh at the scene.

“Okay, Logan. When we find the glasses, you can come out.” She couldn’t help the good mood she found herself in and figured she might as well continue making it a good day. She watched as the larger man slowly started to stir again until he faced her and the Peters.

“In that case, I’ll help you find ‘em.”

“Then it looks like we’re on the case.” Noir stated.

“Yeah. Don’t say that.” Logan grunted as he finally stood up and straightened to his full height. His huge, bulky body was amplified by the imposing height he boasted as he stood towering over the three. He might be a Wolverine but he honestly reflected the scary big bad wolf tropes in fairy tales; he was all bark and bite. Dot found herself shrinking back and had the inward thought that Logan would have to put himself in the Corner considering she couldn’t quite commit to enforcing the act herself.

She also couldn’t tell Logan that he still had to serve out his time in the Corner for what he did to Scott so she “allowed” him to help. As the four of them piled out of the Corner, the door clicked shut behind them. For as much as she said she put people in the Corner and the fact that there was even a room designated for this, she really was glad when there wasn’t anyone in it.

It gave her a lot of comfort to know the room was almost always empty and that her loved ones were here, quite literally beside her.

#{{ original drabbles: dot's feb prompts

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