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shedreamsofstars · 4 years

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the leaves are falling, and my love so are we

Amy has invited Sonic, Silver and Blaze on a mountain hike. Even though not everyone knows or even remembers that it's technically a double date, nothing stops the four of them from enjoying a day in each other's company, and even falling a little more in love with each other. Written for Sonamy / Silvaze Week 2020

... xxx ...

"Amy, I thought this hike was supposed to be a group thing," Sonic said sullenly, stretching his arms above his head as he leaned against the fence. His breath frosted ahead of him in a misty cloud of white, vanishing almost as soon as it appeared.

Autumn was in full swing, and that meant that the chill in the air was here to stay. The blue hedgehog had forgone a coat and hat in favour of a simple black scarf he'd found balled up in the back of his wardrobe, but as burst of wind whistled by, Sonic was starting to regret his decision a little.

"It is," Amy insisted. She'd clearly gotten the right idea, standing beside him bundled up in pastel shades of wool. She looked perfectly cosy and warm – not that he had any plans to find out if she actually was.

Sonic bounced awkwardly on the balls of his feet, his eyes flashing to the only other people in the area, Silver and Blaze. They were also dressed for the weather, and for a brief moment Sonic wondered if anyone would notice if he ran home quickly before deciding against it.

He was fast, but not that fast.

"Are you sure?" he asked with a frown, attempting to tighten his scarf to keep the chill out. "Because, this kinda seems like some sorta two timing date thing. Shouldn't there be more people here of something?"

"It's called a double date, and yes I am sure. Besides, do you really think I can trick you into a date so easily."

"Yes, absolutely. I do think so," Sonic deadpanned, grinning as the girl pouted at him. "Okay, fine. I'll believe you … even if it is kinda suspicious."

Amy gave him a smug smile and he was tempted to roll his eyes at her. Instead, he pushed off the fence and zipped over to the other two members of their party. "Have you guys been up this way before?"

"No," Blaze replied, rubbing her gloved hands together. "At least … I haven't." She turned expectantly to Silver who also shook his head.

"Me neither. Not in this world at least."

"Alright. Looks like we got two newbies on our hands, Ames," he said, glancing over his shoulder to see Amy slowly making her way over.

"This trail is really very pretty this time of year so you're both going to love it!" she said, barely containing her excitement as she joined them. "Shall we set off?"

Sonic gave her a curt nod, the others agreeing in tandem.

"Great! This is going to be so much fun."

Even without looking at her, the blue hedgehog knew that she was smiling as she spoke, her boots softly thudding against the ground as she began to lead them up the mountainous area.

Blaze was up ahead with the pink hedgehog with Silver following a little behind them, stopping occasionally to pick up fallen autumn memorabilia. Sonic followed at the rear of the pack, and even he found it amusing that despite his need for speed, he was quite content and curious enough to slow down every once in a while.

"You've probably been here hundreds of times, right?" Silver said, and Sonic looked up to see that the boy had slowed down enough to match pace with him. He hadn't noticed it before, but there was a tenseness in the other hedgehog's posture that he hadn't noticed earlier.

"I think I lost count somewhere after three-hundred and ninety-four," Sonic joked, smiling as his friend's shoulders relaxed a little bit. "You nervous or something buddy?" he asked, wondering if Amy had been as vague about the nature of today's hike with everyone and not just him.

"Oh," he said, looking a little alarmed at being found out. "It's nothing, really," he said quietly, refusing to meet Sonic's questioning gaze. The blue hedgehog was suspicious to say the least, but he let the comment slide for now.

He didn't want to push the hedgehog into something he wasn't ready to talk about, besides, the walk was long enough for everyone to relax enough that he might just share on his own accord.

"Aright, bud," he replied before clapping him on the back. "We're starting to lose the girls, you wanna race?"

Silver grinned in response.

...xxx...

"We don't have very many of this type in Sol," Blaze said, pointing towards a tree growing just off the path with leaves that jutted out in six directions - two at the top and two on either side. "I think I remember there being some in the Northern regions, but I don't remember what they're called."

"We have plenty of these around here," Amy said, although a light frown settled over her usually perky features as she drew to a halt and placed a single hand on the rough bark of the tree. "I don't remember what they're called though…" she mused, throwing a look over Blaze's shoulder to where the boys were ambling towards them.

"Hey Sonic, do you know the name of this tree?"

Blaze turned just in time to see the blue hedgehog shaking his head and Silver rushing up behind him. If she didn't know any better, then she would have assumed the two of them were attempting some sort of a race. Except she did know better, and Silver wasn't dumb enough to challenge the fastest thing alive.

Either way, it didn't escape her notice that the lighter hedgehog was flushed as they joined them.

"Not a clue. You got any ideas?" he said to the boy beside him.

Her gaze fell to Silver once more as he stooped to pick up one of the fallen leaves, holding it up to the light. "It's a tulip tree," he announced proudly. "I read about these just recently actually. I remember it because the illustration of the leaves reminded me of you Blaze," he said, glancing up to meet her gaze.

Blaze felt heat rush to her cheeks as he moved the hand with the leaf in front of him, his amber eyes flicking from the mottled leaf to her face as he tested his own theory. Amy popped up beside him and narrowed her eyes.

"He's kind of right you know. If I squint like this," she said, doing just that. "It really does look like your silhouette."

"You're both being ridiculous," Blaze said breathily, turning away from them deliberately. "People don't look like leaves," she murmured, unable to shake the way Silver had studied her just a few moments earlier.

She glanced up the path, noticing that it was getting narrower and steeper. It had seemed earlier that they would be taking a route the meandered around the base of the mountain, but now she wasn't so sure.

"Where did you say this route led again?" she asked, surprised to see the Sonic was now beside her and leading the way ahead.

"Can't tell you that," he said smoothly. "That'd ruin the whole surprise."

"I can still appreciate something, even if I know to expect it," she explained.

"Sure you can, but – watch your step," he said, hopping effortlessly over a log that Blaze only noticed at the last moment. "Not knowing is its own kind of adventure, don't you think?" he finished.

Blaze followed after him silently, wondering if perhaps he was right. Silver almost never seemed to have anything planned out, at least never in the same excruciating detail she did, and he always seemed to be having a good time no matter what he did.

"I suppose you're right," she admitted after a few long minutes of silence.

"I always am," Sonic said cockily, stopping only long enough to call out to the two stragglers behind them. "Hurry it up slow coaches. I just saw a snail shoot past us."

...xxx...

The walk up the mountain was tiring to say the least, but Amy was enjoying herself immensely. Not only was she getting the chance to spend time with two friends she didn't get to see often, but she also got the entire day with Sonic the Hedgehog, her most favourite person in the world.

In fact she was enjoying herself so much that she actually felt a wave of disappointment when she realised they'd reached the clearing that marked the half-way point. It meant that their day together was started to reach its peak, and that put a time limit on her remaining hours with the people around her.

She put on a bright smile and tried to put the thought out of her head as she approached Silver. The group had taken a five-minute break to hydrate and catch their breaths, and the white hedgehog was currently sat on a large tree stump.

Several pinecones and acorns that he'd collected on the way up floated around in front of him in a teal haze, and he dropped them into his hands as he saw Amy approaching. He shuffled over to make room for her with a smile that almost seemed as forced as her own.

"So," she said as she dropped down beside him. "How's your date with Blaze going?"

"Oh, I think Blaze is having a grea- wait, what do you mean date?" he said looking slightly alarmed.

"Silver …" Amy said, levelling him an incredulous questioning look. "You can't be serious right? I told you today was a date."

Silver swallowed nervously before nodding as if he had just remembered that particular piece of information. His gaze flitted across the clearing to where Blaze was kneeling on the ground, rifling gingerly through a pile of leaves with a look of pure concentration.

"That explains that," he mused softly, looking much more at ease than he had just moments before. "Wait, does … does she know it's a date?" he asked, seeming almost scared of the response he might get.

"Of course she does silly. You're clearly the only oblivious one here," Amy joked, nudging the boy beside her.

"Hmm," he mulled softly, dragging his gaze to the floor with a frown before lifting it up again. "I should go and see what she's doing," he mumbled more to himself as he stood and headed towards the purple cat as Amy ushered him along.

"So … this is a date then," a voice purred from behind her and the pink hedgehog froze in alarm.

Shoot. Of course she hadn't heard him approach.

Amy blew out a frustrated puff of air before slowly turning her head to see Sonic standing behind her, watching her through a narrowed gaze that did nothing to hide the wildness in his green eyes.

"Because I'm pretty sure I remember a certain someone telling me it definitely wasn't a double date."

Amy flashed a glance towards Silver, waiting until he was a little further away before tugging Sonic down beside her. He landed clumsily, clearly not expecting her to man handle him like that, but he caught himself before he fell right off the edge of the stump.

"It's not … at least, not really," she said, realising as soon as she said it that it wasn't much of an explanation at all.

"What does that even mean?" he said, looking thoroughly confused.

"Well, you know that Blaze and Silver are dating, right."

"No, I didn't actually," he said, his brows shooting upwards as he glanced towards them. Silver had kneeled down besides the girl and Sonic couldn't help but feel a pulse of pride that the two of them had been brave enough to follow their hearts.

"They have been for a while," she said with a shake of her head. "Of course you'd be dense enough to miss it." There was no venom to her words, only a warm acknowledgement, and Sonic gave her a lopsided grin in response.

"You love that about me," he scoffed, and Amy refused to acknowledge the remark or how it threatened to make her head spin in delight.

"They've been together forever, but they've never been on an official date so I thought it would be nice if they had it here with us. Things are always easier when there's more of you."

"Amy, you know that's not true for everyone right," he said. "Some people prefer their dates to be a little more private."

"I know that, but you've seen them," Amy said exasperatedly. "At least with a double date, we can help push them together."

"That sounds suspiciously like meddling to me."

"It's not!" she said defensively. "Besides, Blaze only agreed to go if it was a double date so, technically it's not even my doing."

Sonic's gaze flicked back to the couple by the leaves and understanding seemed to cross his feature.

"I think I get it now," he said slowly. "It's like a safety blanket thing, right. I guess it's kinda hard to be nervous when your best friend is beside you bouncing on her heels with excitement the whole time."

"Hey," Amy said in mock hurt and Sonic only chuckled in response.

...xxx...

Silver's mind was racing with thoughts as he made his way across the soft ground towards Blaze. When he'd gotten the text from Amy, it had definitely mentioned that today was supposed to be a date, but he supposed he'd been pretty oblivious to the meaning behind that.

He'd just automatically assumed it would be a friend thing, but he'd been nervous from the moment they'd arrived, feeling like he'd forgotten something important.

Amy had cleared that up pretty quickly, but the worry had vanished only to be replaced by a new sort. Did Blaze know today was a date, or was she going about today almost as oblivious as he had been until it had been spelled out for him in black and white.

This was a date.

She didn't notice him at first, at least not until he'd crouched down across from her. And even then she barely registered his presence as she sifted through the pile of leaves in front of her.

"You're looking through that leaf pile pretty intensely," he said, knowing the exact moment his voice filtered through her focus. She startled and looked up, her eyes wide and bright as she caught sight of him.

"I'm sorry Silver. I didn't mean to ignore you."

"I know," he said kindly. "You were pretty lost in concentration, but … what are you doing?"

"Oh, this," she said, a small smile finding its way onto her lips as Silver ruffled the dry leaves between them. It widened as he threw a handful into the air between them.

As mesmerising as the view of the gold and auburn leaves floating to the ground was, the sight of Blaze watching them with that transfixed gaze of hers was infinitely better he decided.

"I was trying to find one that wasn't too damaged or wind-eaten," she admitted once the final leaf had fallen back to the ground.

"Want me to help?"

She nodded and the two got to work shuffling through the various types that had been heaped together. "So, what do you want it for?" he asked as he searched.

"A … memento of sorts, I suppose," she replied, her eyes glued to her fingers as she discarded a few leaves she didn't like the look of. Silver was quiet, knowing that she'd recognise his silence as a cue to explain further. "I'd like something to remember our first proper date by, and a leaf seems just as good as anything."

"So you did know it was date," he murmured in relief, although his words were so soft she didn't catch them.

"What was that?" she asked, her golden gaze flitting up to catch his for a single glance before dropping back down to where her hands sifted the crackling leaves.

"I was just saying that it's a nice idea," he said, his fingers brushing against a large golden leaf bleeding through with shots of green and red. "This one's pretty interesting looking," he said, holding it up for his girlfriend to see.

Blaze cocked her head to the side, reaching out a single finger to trace the single vein of green before nodding. "I like this one," she said softly. "I like it even better that you found it, actually," she admitted, and Silver felt his stomach flutter at her words.

Blaze was pretty straightforward about a lot of things, but it was rare for her to be straightforward about the way she felt. So the fact that she hadn't even hesitated to tell him that had a warm heat rushing to his face.

"You two done over there," Sonic called from behind him somewhere.

"We're done," Blaze replied, taking the leaf from Silver and standing to brush the dirt off her legs. Silver did the same before giving Blaze a slight dip of the head to let her know he was ready.

He couldn't help but notice that the purple cat clutched her new leaf tightly as they joined the others to continue their trek up the mountain.

...xxx...

Sonic was the first to catch the sound of running water in the distance, and it took a severe amount of self-restraint to keep from rushing on ahead. He was supposed to stick with the others, and so he forced his feet to slow and one by one, the others overtook him.

Or at least, all but one.

Whilst Silver and Blaze shuffled on ahead, Amy hovered beside him with a concerned frown. "Are you okay Sonic? You're never usually this …" She paused as she mulled over the correct term. "… slow."

Sonic cracked a smile. "I know, but if I speed up then I won't be slowing down any time soon. And I'm pretty sure you need me to stick around for this whole thing, right?"

Amy nodded, her face softening. "Thank you Sonic."

"Ah, it's nothing," he mumbled, forcing his gaze ahead of them as Silver and Blaze rounded the bend. "And, three … two … one." Sonic snapped his fingers right at the moment Silver let out a cry of delight from the front and he turned to give Amy a knowing smirk.

"There's a waterfall all the way up here!"

It only took a second before Sonic and Amy joined the other two who had paused in their tracks. The trail ahead rounded out at a dead end, but beyond the fence that marked the trail was where the true reason for their hike lay.

A serene waterfall cascaded down from high in the mountains, the water falling steadily only to crash into a frothing pool at its base. It wasn't long before all four of them were pressed up against the fence and gazing at the precarious waters below.

The waterfall fed into a river that flowed down the opposite side of the mountain, and no matter how many treks he'd made, Sonic was still a little disappointed that he'd never managed to find the source.

"So ... what kind of surprise would you call this one, Blaze?" Sonic said, stepping back a little when water sprayed against his muzzle. As much as he liked the view, he still didn't like the idea of being too close to water.

"I would say this is definitely a good kind," she responded, and Sonic couldn't help but notice the intimate look she flashed at Silver, or the way the other hedgehog's hands were protectively wrapped around her waist as if to keep her from leaning in too close.

He turned to ask Amy what she thought of the view, but when he turned to his side he found that she had disappeared. For a split second, Sonic's heart was in his mouth as his mind considered the possibility that she'd fallen over into the water below.

But a crunch of a twig somewhere behind him brought him back to his senses and he spotted her a few steps behind, gazing wistfully up at the lip of the water above.

"What're you thinking about Ames?" he said as he joined her.

"Oh nothing," she said, dropping her gaze to meet his. "I was just trying to memorise the moment I guess. It's not often I get to come up here, and with you in tow too," she added with a smile.

Sonic shrugged in agreement. He really didn't get to spend much time with her, especially now that they were older. Maybe he needed to rectify that in the future.

"There's an easier way to remember things, you know?" he said, reaching into his pocket. "Hey Silver, catch!" he called, tossing his phone across to the other hedgehog.

Anyone else would have missed and let the phone tumble over the edge, but Silver's powers shot into effect immediately and he guided the phone into his outstretched fingers with ease.

He flashed Sonic a confused look.

"Can you snap a picture of us here?" Sonic asked, grabbing Amy's arm and guiding her closer to the waterfall. Her eyes went wide as he slipped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her into his side with a wide smile.

"Sure," Silver replied before pausing a beat. "Um … Amy, are you gonna look at the camera?"

"Oh … sorry," Amy mumbled from beside him, and Sonic chuckled to himself as he realised she'd been staring at him that whole time.

The phone camera flashed three times consecutively, and at one point Sonic snuck a glance to his side under the guise of fixing his scarf, before Silver lowered the phone with a frown.

"Is it done?" the white hedgehog asked, voice laced with confusion and an expression to match.

"Let me check," Sonic said as he let his arms slip off of Amy. "Thanks bud," he said as he reached Silver and accepted his phone, showing the other boy how to check the gallery for the recent photos.

He didn't dare glance in Amy's direction until he was done, but by that time she was lost in conversation with Blaze and he'd already lost his hold on any words he might have wanted to say to her anyway.

...xxx...

Lunch was a simple meal of sandwiches and granola bars downed with water. No one had been excited at the prospect of carrying too much so they'd all packed pretty light. Amy had been pretty vague on the details, so he and Blaze hadn't even been sure how long they'd be out for.

The walk up the trail had been intriguing enough, that Silver hadn't even noticed he was ravenous until he took the first bite of his sandwich sitting cross legged on the ground beside Blaze.

It was like shattering a glass bottle and releasing his hunger from its prison as suddenly his stomach grumbled loudly in protest of the lack of sustenance, audible even over the noise of the water crashing down behind him.

"Sorry," he said to no one in particular, his mouth still full of food as he took another bite to sate himself. He caught Blaze watching him from his side, her gaze flitting away to her own food when he noticed.

He smiled into his sandwich, wondering when she'd just let herself openly look at him whenever she wanted. It wasn't as if he minded. Not if it was her at least.

He jolted in surprise as something warm touched his free hand, the one resting on the ground beside him. He glanced down to see the purple cat's hand hovering next to his own and realised that she must have knocked him by accident.

Unless …

Still staring straight ahead and, taking a bite of his sandwich for good measure, Silver stretched out his pinkie finger until it collided against the edge of Blaze's hand. He considered pulling it back, but before he could, the cat had shifted her own so that it was suddenly tangled with his.

Silver swallowed nervously, his gaze flitting between the two hedgehogs sat across from him but neither of them seemed to have noticed anything.

It was the slightest of contact, his smallest finger hooked innocuously to Blaze's, but already Silver could feel her head radiating through him. She was always warm, likely due to her flames, whereas more often than not his own hands were ice cold.

When he'd mentioned that those two things meant they were destined to be together, she had rolled her eyes affectionately, but he couldn't help but think it again now as her warmth flooded through him.

They remained that way for the duration of their small lunches, even as Amy handed out jam tarts that she'd made the night before for dessert. Throughout all of it, neither Amy nor Sonic made any comment on their linked hands.

Maybe they just assumed it was normal for them or something, but Silver was thankful regardless. He was a little regretful when it came time to begin the trek back down and Blaze removed her finger to collect her belongings, clutching at her leaf once more.

As the group made their way back down the mountain, Silver found himself missing Blaze even though she was stood right beside him. He knew that he needed to touch her, to remind himself that she was right there, but he was reluctant to admit it to her.

This was a date and they both knew it. Silver held her hand all the time. So why then did the first fact make him so nervous about the second?

His brows dipped as he contemplated his dilemma, and it didn't take her long to notice and call his name softly enough that the other two walking ahead wouldn't notice. "Is everything okay?" she asked, voice hushed but full of concern.

"Yeah," he said quickly. "Actually, do you mind if …" he trailed off, his fingers flexing nervously at his side as he realised he couldn't go through with his original request. "Your leaf, you want me to look after it for you?"

"Oh," Blaze said, looking at little surprised. "Please do," she said, holding out the leaf she had been twirling in her fingers. He took it gently and smiled.

"You should hold it in your other hand," she commented, and Silver did, a little confused as to how it made any difference until he felt Blaze's arm link with his and her body press closer to him as she slid her hand down his arm and into his

Silver caught her eye and she kept her smile steady. How did she always know exactly what he wanted even when he said nothing? It didn't really matter if he was honest, having her around was more than enough.

"Thank you," he whispered, giving her hand a gentle squeeze. She returned the favour without hesitation.

...xxx...

Amy's heart was so full as she finally reached her garden gate at the end of the day, waving off the others as they headed to their respective homes and times. She'd had an incredible day, and she only hoped the others would say the same thing.

They'd made it down the mountain just before the sun began to set, so by the time she sat down on her doorstep, she could see her garden burn in beautiful deep colours in the glow of the fast disappearing sun.

She didn't want to go inside just yet, and she knew it was stupid, but it almost felt like she could make the memory of the day last longer the more she lingered out here.

Going inside and sheltering from the chilly air she'd spent the days company in felt like finally deciding that it was over and done, and she wanted to make today last as long as possible.

Picking up her phone, she quickly sent everyone messages to thank them for their company and to check that they'd all gotten home safely before placing it face down on the ground beside her.

She watched quietly as the sun dipped down in the horizon, its soft glow replaced by the equally soft glow of the moon that bathed her view in ivory. A moth fluttered nearby, attracted by the light of her phone screen as she checked her messages to see replies from both Silver and Blaze.

She missed them already, but they'd promised to be back soon, so she refused to hold it against them. Especially after she'd caught them clinging to each other more and more as the day went on.

That sight alone had made her romantic heart sing with joy.

She had expected to have to intervene more, despite Sonic's warning on meddling, but as it happened, she hadn't had to do anything at all. The two of them managed just find on their own.

Shivering a little from the cold, she stood, fully ready to head inside when her phone buzzed once more in her hands. She lifted it up to see who had messaged her, and the butterflies in her chest soared at the name of the sender.

Sonic.

She unlocked it quickly, opening the message.

S: just made it home S: today was fun

Amy shook her head at his response, an involuntary smile lifting her lips.

Despite being the speediest of the bunch, of course Sonic was the last one to make it home. She had no doubt he had made several detours along the way, but the thought only made her smile widen.

She was about to put her phone away when it buzzed again and she saw a picture flash up in the chat, one that made her sink back down onto the doorstep in surprise.

Sonic had sent her a photo of the two of them, the very one that Silver had taken that day by the waterfall. Amy's face in the picture was so pink that she looked like she'd smeared berry juice all over her face, but it wasn't herself she was drawn to.

No.

She had been too concerned with the unexpectedness of it all at the time that she hadn't noticed Sonic at all. She had the vague memory of him snickering beside her once Silver had her attention, but she'd had no idea that he'd been looking at her whilst the photo was being taken.

And like … that.

Like she was the only thing worth looking at, even with the wonderous waterfall falling in a sparkling rainbow of light behind them.

Before she could dwell too hard on it, Amy send back two hearts.

His reply was instant.

S: speechless huh. you can't think of a single word?

A: I'm sure I can think of at least one.

Amy replied, unable to back down from a challenge. She bit her bottom lip, wondering if there was actually any word that could truly encompass how wonderful the day had been despite it not being an actual date.

She bit back a giggle as Sonic replied with a series of impatient replies, each one less coherent than the last. Making him wait just as long as it took for her to set the photo of the two of them as her phone background, Amy finally succumbed to his pleads and hit send.

A: Magical.

...xxx...

and scene. did i attempt to mash up almost every single prompt into one fic because i have no time or am i just lazy. yes and also yes.

i hope you all had a great sonamy/silvaze week! i'm slowly catching up on some of the stuff created and i've already seen some amazing work! there's so many talented people in the sonic community, i feel blessed.

this had so many pov jumps that i might have confused myself a little whilst writing lol. if the transitions are terrible, my bad (it's all a learning curve right?) i hope you enjoyed it for what it was meant to be. i know i had a great time writing some of the interactions, especially between the characters who don't meet often.

thanks so much for reading! let me know your thoughts if you have a moment 😊

#sonamy #silvaze #sonamy week 2020 #silvaze week 2020 #double date #the leaves are falling and my love so are we

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a3hihi · 3 years

Text

a script reading (pre-Mankai)

Oneshot

Fushimi Omi & Nachi, original characters

also on AO3!

Summary

“Okay,” Nachi drawls, slipping off of his bike in one go.

He looks everyone over. “I’ve got you here today to hear part of my script reading. If you like it, you can tell me. If you don’t like it, then you can run before we catch you.”

The Wolves behind him flash their teeth at that, grinning.

The Mad Fox could throw a punch. The rival gang didn’t think he could deliver lines, too.

Dai’s running like he’s never run before.

Like how his friends warned, stepping on the Wolves’ turf was a terrible idea.

The streets in Tokyo are lit yellow, blue, and red that evening, but they’re blurred in Dai’s eyes. The river beside them, separated from the road by a fence, flows quietly, masking nothing. Dai can hear himself panting, the stomps of his team following behind him. His boots slip on the asphalt and he’s lucky to catch himself.

What was their leader even gonna say once she heard about this?

Dai whips his head around frantically. His other members’ eyes are wide with fear. They’re stuck.

They all turn a corner to lose the people chasing them, heaving.

They’ve covered enough ground, he thinks, until he hears screeches from tires and hoots from their rival gang. Amid the chorus of their engines revving, some of them mimic wolves’ howls, whooping with laughter as they skid to a stop.

They’ve caught up.

One of the Wolves’ leaders, Nachi, laughs the loudest.

He takes off his helmet and sets it aside, boasting a shock of bright green hair. He stands out from most of his gang, members dark-haired and dressed in leathers.

“Okay,” Nachi drawls, slipping off of his bike in one go.

He looks everyone over. “I’ve got you here today to hear part of my script reading. If you like it, you can tell me. If you don’t like it, then you can run before we catch you.”

The Wolves behind him flash their teeth at that, grinning.

Dai backs up until he sticks to a brick wall, crinkling with posters and dried gum. Some of his teammates still stand, while others are startled into falling.

“We’re not scared of you,” one of them says. “Our leader’s gonna know any minute now. She runs this part of town.”

“Really? What’s her name?” Nachi asks, tilting his head to the side.

"Chiyo—"

“Ah. Say, Omi, didn’t we break her arm here a week ago?”

Dai and his friends gulp.

One of the taller members slides off his bike and ambles to where Nachi stands. Next to Nachi’s bright hair and smiling face, this guy looks plain besides his build. He scowls at Dai and the rest.

“I remember.”

The taller one, who Dai assumes is Omi, looks at his partner, frowning.

“What did you wanna do?”

"Try something new, that’s all.”

His voice rings out as the gang gawks at him in confusion.

Nachi reaches into his jacket and takes out a printed-out script, clearing his throat.

“A monologue from As You Like It, by William Shakespeare. Act two, scene seven, line one hundred thirty-nine."

“All the world’s a stage, and all the men and women merely players.”

Nachi takes two steps forward. The other members scramble further away, their backs pressed to the wall behind them.

Nachi’s gestures and position change as he speaks. He brings his arms out during certain phrases.

“They have their exits and their entrances,”

He controls his voice with ease, shifting his facial expressions and moving from one word to another.

“And one man in his time plays many parts, his acts being seven ages.”

In the minutes that pass, it happens smoothly, like he’s practiced it many times before.

"Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything."

"...Last scene of all, that ends this strange eventful history, is second childishness and mere oblivion,"

He swipes at his face.

Dai's friends look on, but Nachi doesn’t say anything more.

“So? How was that?”

Everyone else looks like they’re stunned into silence.

“Nachi! That was awesome!” yells a silver-haired boy to Nachi’s left.

“Thank you, Ryo,” he says before he smirks at Dai's friends.

“Well? Any feedback?”

They’re quiet.

“No?” Nachi mutters, raising a brow that makes them flinch.

One of Dai’s fellow members pretends to cough.

“Your emotions were nice, I guess.”

What the hell was going on?

“Okay, I’ll work on that. Anyone else?”

Nachi’s holding back a laugh.

“You kinda freaked me out during that last part," another member squeaks.

"Got it. It was intended, I’ll give you that."

No one talks.

Dai speaks up from his crouched spot by the wall.

"You could take some more pauses."

Nachi looks him dead in the eye. “What makes you think that?”

Dai swallows. “Makes it easier for us to get the story. I think.”

Nachi stuffs his hands into his pockets. “Alright. Thank you all for cooperating,” he calls out.

“Now, I’m going to count to three.”

He backs up until he’s in line with the other Wolves.

“If you’re not gone by then,” he chuckles, “well, you know what’s comin’.”

“One.”

Dai and his team shoot up.

“Two.”

They scatter in all directions.

“Three.”

Street’s empty.

Near midnight, the streets in Tokyo are still lit yellow, yellow, blue, and red, shining on two lumbering boys. No other Wolves or motorcycles in sight. One has a lollipop in his mouth; the other is silent. The river still masks nothing.

Still quiet, too, save for bikes’ engines.

Omi barks out a laugh, and the rest of them join in.

"Care to tell me what that was all about?" Omi asks.

Nachi takes a breath. “I just thought it would be interesting.”

“Huh?”

“If you do something different, people remember you,” he shrugs. “Plus the Wolves found it fun.”

“No, no. I get that.” Omi frowns.

“But you don’t just pull… speeches out of thin air like that. Things like this need a lot of effort.”

Nachi faces him, lollipop pinched between his fingers. “You’re right. They do.”

Nachi makes jazz hands at him. “Acting.”

“If word of me pulling that stunt comes out,” he continues, picking at his bracelet, “Then I’ll make sure people don’t come after them.”

Omi crosses his arms.

“‘S long as I’m here, no one lays a finger on the Wolves. Or on either of us. Listen, it’s not about rumors.”

Nachi doesn’t answer, so Omi stops walking.

“Hey.” Omi punches his shoulder. “I’m serious. I won’t laugh at you if you’re into that stuff. The others won’t either.”

Nachi allows himself a wry smile and slings an arm around Omi’s shoulders.

“Well, I have your support. That counts for something.”

Omi beams at his best friend.

Trash cans clang from a nearby alley. The both of them come to a halt.

“Was that a cat?” Nachi asks.

Omi cocks his head to the side. “I don’t think so.”

Dai stumbles out from behind the wall, nursing a bruise where he must have hit a trash can. His eyes land on them.

“I... I was just on my way home,” he yelps, breath catching in his throat.

Omi squints. “How much did you hear?”

“Nothing. I swear.”

“Let me take care of him,” Nachi says, stepping forward and rolling his sleeve up.

“Nah.” Omi catches his friend's arm.

“He can send a message back to Chiyo.”

His voice is light, saying that, like he isn’t threatened in the slightest.

“Let me make this simple.” Omi sets his eyes down to Dai's level.

“Because I’m not an asshole, I'll let you go for now.”

Dai’s frozen in place.

“I take it your house isn’t far from here?”

Omi's face doesn't change as Dai nods, trying his best not to stammer.

“Try not to show your face around here again. Then we’re out of your hair.”

Dai tightens his jaw and runs off til he’s out of sight.

“Omi!! You gotta teach me how to do that sometime!”

Ryo runs up to them, catching his breath. Two, then three, then five more of the Wolves follow behind him on the road.

“I thought you all went home.”

Ryo wheezes. “We wanted to see you before heading back!”

Omi grimaces at that, rolling his eyes.

“Suit yourselves. I just don’t want you to start something stupid and then regret it.”

Ryo’s eyes sparkle. “Do you have more lollies?”

“What.”

Ryo smiles until Omi sighs and pats his pockets, searching for something, finally fishing out lollipops.

“It wouldn’t kill you to have a salad every once in a while.” Omi grunts, shaking his head. "If you idiots don’t take care of yourselves, I swear I'll—”

"You'll what?" Nachi teases.

His partner smirks. "I'll blow all your houses down."

"That was the lamest thing I've ever heard."

"Go jump in the river."

"If you ask nicely, maybe I will."

Nachi shouts an "OW!" as Omi shoves him.

The rest of the gang snickers.

“Where’d you learn to make those lollipops anyway?” Nachi asks.

“My mom taught me.”

Omi smiles, looking at them all. “I’ll see what I can do.”

“Oh.” Nachi purses his lips and pats his friend’s back. “Teach us how to make them?”

"I guess."

As the others crowd around them, Ryo tugs at Omi’s jacket.

“Nachi could do another one of those script things.”

“Script readings, Ryo.”

“Yeah, yeah!”

#omi fushimi #a3 nachi #a3 omi #a3 fanfiction #Nachis lines are from the ones Sakuya recites in the animes first episode #its about the Parallels #SOBS #hihiwrites #quiche is ready

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not-close-to-straight · 4 years

Text

More Than Words (Eight)

MTW MASTERLIST HERE

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

Wade laughed for at least ten minutes over Peter’s expression when the Omega wondered aloud where they were going to store all the new supplies, and Wade simply opened the door to the lean to and motioned to all the space inside.

“You don’t have to laugh at me.” Peter said frostily, and the obnoxious Alpha only laughed harder. “How was I supposed to know you had a storage room?”

“Pete, you’ve spent weeks in the cabin now.” Wade stacked two fifty pound bags of rice against the far wall of the lean to, and followed with several bags of beans as well. “I can excuse you not knowing about the root cellar but how did you not know this was a door over here? You never once saw me go into the cellar for coffee, where did you think I kept it all?”

“I don’t care where my coffee comes from so long as it’s hot in the morning.” Peter sniffed and his sassiness set Wade off all over again. “In my defense! In my defense! I didn’t know old timey cabins came with extra rooms!”

“Old timey cabins?” Flour and sugar, coffee and cornmeal, salt and dried fruit all went into the lean to, and Wade dusted off his hands one he was finished, leveling his Omega with a look. “What are you trying to say, Pete?”

“That all the good historical romances have one bed, in a one room cabin and never once in between the sex does it talk about lean tos or root cellars!” Peter retorted, and Wade shot right back--

“Hey, if you learn all your history through sexy books, that's your fault.” And then with a more than curious expression, “How much time do you spend reading sexy books, Pete?”

“Nope.” Peter wagged his finger at the Alpha. “Nope, you don’t get to ask that after you cackled at me for not knowing you have an extra big pantry. No way. I’m going to go get the blankets out of the wagon. You’ll need them for when you sleep on the floor again tonight.”

“Hey.” Wade snagged Peter around the waist and dragged the Omega back up to his body, covering Peter’s half hearted protest with a long kiss. “I’m not sleeping without you tonight. If I gotta sleep on the floor, stack those blankets high cos you’ll need to be comfortable too.”

“You’re not sleeping without me?” Peter echoed, lingering close enough for their lips to brush as he spoke. “Well I don’t want to sleep on the floor, so how’s that going to work?”

“You’ll have to get over being a brat and let me sleep in the bed.” Wade decided and damn it Peter didn’t want to giggle but his Alpha was absolutely ridiculous.

“Now why would I let you sleep in bed with me when you’re calling me a brat?”

“M’serious Pete.” Wade was suddenly done laughing, his palm warm at the back of Peter’s neck as he ran circles over his mate’s bonding spot. “I’m done sleeping without you, alright? Enough for me is getting to hold you every night and kiss you good morning. I need to know you’re safe in my arms, need to see that smile right when the sun comes up. That’s enough for me, is it enough for you?”

All of Peter’s breath left his body in a whoosh, the Omega stunned by the show of vulnerability from Wade. Of course they were honest with each other, and their stay at the hotel had led to some amazing revelations, but all that seemed to pale in light of the conviction in Wade’s eyes, the way there wasn’t a hint of playful anywhere in his Alpha’s expression.

“It’s… it’s enough for me.” he squeaked, then wet his lips and tried again, “It’s enough for me, Wade. You’re enough for me. I can’t wait to fall asleep next to you tonight and tomorrow and all the other nights too.”

“Good.” Wade’s eyes ringed in red for a few seconds before he flashed his fangs in a teasing smile. “Now why don’t you go get a few more things from the wagon so we can stock this super secret pantry with enough supplies to get us through the winter.”

“Yes, Alpha.” Peter said obediently, and then scrunched his nose. “See? I’m not always a brat.”

“Always be a brat, Pete.” Wade leaned in and nuzzled at the base of Peter’s throat, rumbling in pleasure when the Omega automatically tipped his head back, offering up more. “Don’t ever change. Everything about you is absolutely perfect, my Omega.”

“Alpha my Alpha.” the words were soft, shy, nearly inaudible though a glow of adoration in Peter’s scent. “You’re perfect too.”

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

“I think I’ll name the new chickens after my friends.” Peter decided one day as he gathered eggs. “This one has got hair just like Johnny, this one is as red as MJ and this one--ow!” he scowled at one particularly mean chicken. “--is obviously a Gwen. This new one is pretentious as hell so I’m going to call him Harry.”

“Oh yeah?” Wade patted the goat on the rump and shooed her out of the way. “Wanna hear my names for them?”

“You’ve named them?” Peter turned to his Alpha in surprise. “You haven’t even named the goat! I didn’t think you’d name the chickies!”

“Sure I did.” Wade nuzzled a kiss onto Peter’s temple as he passed. “That one is Soup, that one is Dumpling, that one is Fried and this beauty right here is named Baked.”

“Soup, Dumpling, Fried and Baked?” A less than impressed glare from the Omega. “Seriously?”

“I bought these chickens so you’d have something to eat all winter, Pete.” Wade started up the ladder to the loft. “Not so you’d have pets. Name the ones we keep for eggs, don’t name the ones we’re going to eat for dinner.”

“Fine.” Peter shooed Gwen--er-- Fried out of the way and set his basket of eggs up on a shelf so he could help with the horses. “Harry would be pissed off if he knew I named a pretentious chicken after him anyway.”

“You don’t talk about your friends.” Wade dropped clean hay down into Arthur’s stall. “Not ever. Which one is Harry?”

“...you want to hear about my friends?” Peter kicked at the hay to spread it around the horse’s feet. “Really?”

“Sure.” the Alpha shrugged a little. “You’ve met my friends, only seems fair I should know about yours.”

“I’ve met a few super scary mutants and a crazy shop keep.” Peter patted at Arthur’s side to push the gelding out of the way so he could get to the back corner of the stall. “I feel like that’s not the same thing as me boring you with stories of--” people I’ll never see again. “--my friends.”

“Well tell me anyway.” Wade moved onto Bea’s stall, clicking his tongue at the pretty mare until she nickered up at him. “Why is Harry pretentious?”

“You really want to know?” Peter asked uncertainly and his Alpha prompted, “I wanna know everything about you, Pete. We’re not gonna do much more today than chores and sit inside since the weathers so crappy. Now’s as good a time as any to talk, right?”

“Okay then.” Peter snuck Arthur a piece of carrot then ambled over to Bea. “Well, it’s not Harry’s fault he’s pretentious, his father is completely unbearable. Rich people in general are jerks, but Norman Osborn is the worst I’ve ever met. Harry’s a sweet guy but when you’re raised that way, there’s no escaping it, you know?”

“I can’t say I’ve known many rich people.” the Alpha hedged. “But keep talking.”

“I’ve known Harry since I was six. He showed up to the first day of school in a suit and tie.” Peter grinned over the memory. “We had Sloppy Joe’s for lunch and Harry bitched about not having real silverware to eat his sandwich with.”

“Who eats a sandwich with silverware?”

“Harry Osborn does.” A long suffering sigh. “Honestly, he still eats hamburgers with a knife and fork. I’ve never seen him pick up anything and just take a bite.”

“He sounds terrible.”

“Nah.” Peter's scent turned wistful. “Nah, he’s wonderful. I miss him.”

Good natured stories about Harry being pretentious turned into recollections of how Mary Jane had come into their lives, how she’d moved next to Peter’s Auntie May and they’d spent the summers exploring the canal behind the houses and sharing books over the back yard fence. They’d presented as Omegas the same year, cried through their first heat together because it just didn’t seem right for teenagers who’d never so much as kissed anyone to be going through a full blown heat, and spent way too much time skipping school to go shopping.

Gwen had come along in junior high year of high school and Peter laughed through most of the stories about the mouthy blond, how Gwen had reacted with actual cheers when she’d presented as Alpha, how Peter had refused to kiss her until she’d gotten her little fangs removed and how MJ was absolutely horny for Gwen but never said anything.

“Absolutely horny.” Wade stated, setting a pile of logs down by the fire. “Are you serious with that?”

“Absolutely horny.” Peter grabbed the hatchet and set to work chopping kindling. “MJ likes to think she’s a demure little Omega but we all know different. Harry and Johnny aren’t interesting at all, but if Gwen ever did anything but flirt, Mary Jane would be ready to bond in a moment.”

As they made dinner together, Peter chatted about Johnny and how the Alpha was convinced he was the best at everything ever. He was full of stories of showboating during athletic events, entering contests just for the sake of winning, terrible pick up lines and hilarious failed attempts at flirting and the ongoing unspoken competition between he and Harry to get the best looking Omega around.

There were memories of all night study sessions and celebratory partying the day after exams, of crowding five in a cab just to save a little money, the one summer after freshman year of college when they’d all lived with Auntie May cos the dorms were closed for break and no one could afford an apartment yet. Countless movie marathons, the never ending misadventures of Gwen and her inability to keep track of her phone, the times they’d pranked Harry’s butler and that one day Johnny dyed his hair green to win a bet and then had to shave his head.

And that night in bed, Wade propped up on his elbow and looked down at his Omega, tracing idle patterns on Peter’s stomach as he asked, “You miss them, don’t you?”

“They’re my best friends.” Peter answered softly. “I’ve known MJ and Harry for almost twenty years now, Gwen and Johnny for over ten. Of course I miss them.”

Wade waited a moment, and when his Omega didn’t finish, he prompted, “But?”

“...but…” Peter pursed his lips and blew out a deep breath. “I don’t think I miss them so much as I worry about them right now.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’ve been gone six weeks.” the Omega turned into Wade’s arms and snuggled into his chest. “Six weeks, Alpha. They must be out of their mind with worry not knowing where I went or what happened or if-- you know, if my body is going to show up at some point? Six weeks is a long time to wonder where someone went. Gwen’s Dad is the police chief and I’m sure she’s had him put out bulletins for me and Harry most likely used all his influence to try and figure out what happened. They’ll find my car in the woods and probably something I dropped and they’ll all think--”

He shook his head. “I don’t know what they’ll think, but I know they are worried.”

Wade tucked a strand of hair behind Peter’s ear, tugged lightly on the longish ends that were just beginning to curl and crooned comfortingly when the Omega’s lavender scent dipped low with sadness.

“They don’t know how happy I am.” Peter inched closer and pushed his forehead over Wade’s heart, fluttering his lashes gently over the scarred skin and sighing. “They don’t know I’ve found you, that I’m safe and secure with my Alpha and that even though I’m so so far away from everything I was used to, this is the most content I’ve ever been. It makes me sad that I’m having the best time of my life, and they are probably planning a funeral.”

Wade cuddled his mate tight and wound their legs together. “I don’t know if this matters, Pete. But from what I gather from Bruce and a few short conversations with Cable, when you’re jumping through time things are… things are different. Cable told me once that time isn’t a line, it's a place and that time can move different outside the places or-- or you know, something like that.”

“...alright.” Peter frowned. “I’ve heard that idea before when people theorize about time travel, that it’s not like walking backwards in a straight line it’s about moving from one spot to another. So what?”

“So I’m saying maybe--” the Alpha paused, trying to find his words. “--maybe you’ve been here for six weeks but no time has passed there. Or maybe only a little time. I’ve heard Cable make comments about being gone for months when we just saw him a few days ago. Or one time he was gone for almost a year but when he came back he seemed surprised that so much time had passed.”

“You’re saying that it’s been a month and a half for me and you, but maybe I haven’t even been gone long enough in my time for them to worry?”

“I’m saying it could be possible.” Wade closed his eyes when he felt the lightest brush of a kiss on his heart. “And I know we don’t like to talk about Cable coming back but we know it’s inevitable, right? Don’t you think Cable would return you right to the moment you left?”

“I could wake up in the woods close to my car and go check into my hotel like nothing had happened.” Peter finished. “You think?”

“The guy’s an asshole but he’s not cruel. If Cable can make your return back there easy, he will. He’ll make it easy on everyone.”

“Everyone except you.” Peter murmured. “Cos you’d be here without me.”

“Well I’m here with you right now.” Wade rolled Peter in the bed until the Omega was straddled on top of his waist, Peter’s nose tucked into his neck. “And that’s all that matters, right?”

“Right. That’s all that matters.”

For now.

“Thanks for letting me talk about them.” Peter whispered sometime later. “All day, I mean. It can’t be fun to listen to me rattle on about people you don’t know. I must have listed about a hundred things you don’t understand-- smart phones and Netflix and stuff about college... sorry.”

“Shhh, Omega.” Wade was half asleep by now, his voice little more than a rumble. “You can talk all you want ‘bout whatever you want so long as you’re smiling over it. I like to see you smile.”

Peter pressed as close as he could get to his mate, humming quietly when Wade hugged him tight. “I like to see you smile too, Alpha.”

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

Late fall turned to winter with a rush of sudden, chilling wind that poured over the mountaintops and whipped around the corners of the cabin, howled around the chimney and rattling windows before bending the trees on it’s way to whirl through the rooftops of Haven.

The sunlight had been steadily disappearing for weeks now, but one day it seemed as if the sun didn’t rise till mid morning and then had gone again well before supper and the increasing darkness was nearly depressing.

Or rather, it would have been depressing had Peter and Wade not been so perfectly content to simply exist with each other in the sanctity of their own space.

Their mornings were slow, both Alpha and Omega loathe to leave the warmth of new blankets and each other’s arms to face the biting cold that had settled around their land. Coffee was sipped in front of the fire with Peter snuggled into Wade’s lap, kisses shared as they washed up for the day and buttoned heavy jackets to go out for chores.

Wade worked on minor repairs throughout the afternoon, reinforcing the roof and doors on the warmer days, tightening up pieces inside when the wind was too cold to work in. There were new blankets on the bed, so Wade and Peter doubled up the old ones to hang over the windows and further insulate the house. Cracks between the log walls were filled, the stove and oven and chimney deep cleaned to avoid any future smoky issues and the root cellar packed near to bursting with all the meat from outside so they wouldn’t run out of food during a storm.

The evenings found them huddled around the fire for dinner and sharing a chair as Peter wrote in one of the new journals Wade had bought for him at Mr Lee’s-- an unexpected present left on Peter’s pillow that had rendered the Omega speechless for several minutes and had ended in a kiss wet with tears-- or reading out loud from one of the few books Wade kept on his shelf.

And every night Peter crawled into bed and into his Alpha’s arms, content to sleep away the cold and wind with his mate’s heartbeat steady beneath his ear while Wade fought against sleep so he could stay awake and watch his Omega dream.

A good life, even with the difficulties winter brought to their routine.

It was hard to chop kindling when hands and fingers were nearly numb, harder still to climb out of bed and into a near freezing cabin because they both slept so soundly these days not even Wade woke up to stoke the fire past midnight. It was simply too cold to open the barn doors first thing in the morning, so chores were pushed back an hour or two so the animals had an extra hour or two before letting the frigid temperatures into where they slept.

Bea and Arthur seemed to appreciate the gesture, but the goat took her irritation about waiting to be milked out on Peter via way of absurdly loud bleating, hoof stamping and heaving of her little body weight around to try and knock the Omega over.

She was obstinate and obnoxious and some days Peter wondered if goats made good eating, but still he persisted with his chores, mixed a salve to keep the goats udder from chafing in the dry air, talked and crooned and even outright purred to her so she wouldn’t jump quite so much when he tried to tether her to the milking post. Much to Wade’s poorly-hidden amusement, the goat wanted absolutely nothing to with Peter or his efforts and much to Peter’s very obvious chagrin, every single day was a pain in the ass.

“I don’t know why she doesn’t like me!” he finally huffed one cold morning, thumping the only half full bucket of milk down on the kitchen table and blowing on his freezing fingers. “I have tried everything short of hog tying her down! I am so nice to that beast and she still tried to bite me!”

“Well how would you feel if someone tied you up every morning, yanked on your nethers until you were dry and then patted you on the butt and called you a good boy?” Wade scooped eggs out of the pan and dropped them onto a plate, handing it over to the Omega. “And to add insult to injury, you gotta do all that after having the doors flung open and your bits frozen by the winter wind? C’mon Pete. You’d try to bite someone too.”

“All those terrible mental images aside.” Peter sent his Alpha a fully disapproving glare and Wade only waggled his eyebrows in return. “She doesn’t do that crap with you, so why does she do it with me?”

“I’m an Alpha, baby boy.” Wade made his voice exaggeratedly deep. “Even the wildest of animals know not to incur my wrath, far be it for a simple barnyard creature to risk upsetting me.”

“Oh for fucks sake--” Wade got a spoonful of eggs to the face for his sarcasm. “That’s enough out of you. We’re switching chores. You milk the goat and gather the eggs, I’ll spend the morning grooming Bea and Arthur. I’d much rather cuddle up to those beauties than mess with that goat trying to head butt me every time I so much as glance her way.”

“You should growl at her.” Wade wiped the eggs off his face and refilled his coffee cup. “Get a little snarly and she’ll stop testing you.”

“Omegas don’t growl.” Peter pointed out, and Wade countered, “Baby boy, I’d give my left foot to hear you growl some time. Bite me and growl a little and I’d be a mess.”

“You already are a mess.” Peter reached across the table and brushed a missed piece from Wade’s lips, his gaze darting over to the Alpha’s throat and the barely there silvered scar from a long ago bonding. “I’ve never had an Alpha ask me to bite them.”

“Most Alphas probably won’t ask to be bitten.” Wade returned. “Or at least they won’t admit to it. That’s a pretty Omega thing to do-- ask to be bitten.”

“I don’t know about that.” Peter wrinkled his nose. “I’ve shared plenty of heats with Alphas and never asked to be bitten.”

“You’ve never asked an Alpha to bite you?” Wade squashed the urge to snarl possessively. Damn right his mate had never been bitten. “Ever?”

“N-No.” Peter gulped when his Alpha’s hazel eyes blurred red for a few blinks. “No, I’ve never asked. Never even wanted to be bitten. Not ever. That seems um-- it always seemed--” Wade parted his lips and ran his tongue over the hooked points of his fangs and the Omega first went very pale, and then very red, Peter’s own mouth falling open in a mirror of Wade’s motion. “I--I--I mean--it used to seem--”

Peter didn’t even realize he was rubbing over his bonding spot until the Alpha’s eyes dropped to watch. “Um. Holy shit. Wade--”

“Pete.” Wade growled and Peter’s answering whine was purely instinctual, high pitched and coaxing and the Alpha lurched forward to grab him up tight, pushing aside the breakfast to bury his face into his mate’s throat. An open mouthed inhale over Peter’s pulse had Wade growling all over again, clutching at his mate’s side and rumbling low when Peter’s blunt teeth closed over his ear lobe experimentally.

“You um-- you like to be bit, Alpha?”

A flash of heat rolling through Wade’s center as he remembered the burn of Vanessa’s fangs in his neck, the sting of brutally pointed ends at his thigh close enough to more sensitive areas to add a spike of adrenaline to their moments together.

The thought of Peter biting him lit an entirely different spike in the Alpha’s core as he imagined seeing his mate carried away to the point of growling at him, kisses turned messy and sharp, playful bites turned nearly painful and altogether electrifying, fingers scraping and teeth breaking skin and the taste of hormone flush blood on their tongues--

“Alpha.” Peter’s cry was more of a gasp for air, his eyes wide and mouth open in a breathless pant as he dug his fingers into Wade’s shoulders. “What are you doing?”

Wade came back to the moment with a jolt, pulled himself from a heated fantasy he hadn’t realized was spilling into the room and shocking his mate to stillness with the amount of everything he’d put between them. He could nearly taste his own scent in the air, cedar and licorice bruised with lust and it was a sharp contrast to the too sweet scent of honeysuckle swelling rich beneath lavender as Peter reacted almost helplessly to the Alpha’s arousal.

“Sorry. Sorry.” He wasn’t sorry at all, but Wade said it anyway, murmured the word over and over as he forced some distance between himself and his mate, unlocking his muscles one by one until he could pry his hands from Peter’s side and get his fangs covered again. “Sorry my Omega, I didn’t mean to get carried away. Sorry sorry. You alright?”

“I’m fine.” Peter was still gasping, practically choking as he tried to get a breath in, pants uncomfortably tight over his straining cock, uncomfortably wet between his thighs. “Alpha what--what--”

Wade ran the heel of his hand own the fasten of his own trousers and bit back a desperate groan when Peter did the same thing, the Omega’s knees falling open and head lolling back as Peter worked to get settled again.

“What--what--” Another attempt at a deep breath. “Holy shit Alpha, what were you thinking about?”

“About you biting me.” The Alpha ground out. “I didn’t realize I was thinking out loud though. Been a long time since I’ve had anyone around to react to that sorta thing. And you-- fuck, Pete-- you react so good to me. Gorgeous.”

“Is that what this is?” Peter moaned quietly, shifting on his seat and relaxing only a modicum when the tension started to ease as Wade got himself further under control. “Good? Gorgeous?”

“So gorgeous.” The flush at Peter’s neck and cheeks was outright enchanting, and Wade didn’t want to look away. “Damn it, Omega. My mate--” Peter whimpered and Wade felt it clear to his soul. “-- you are perfect. Jesus Christ.”

“Alpha.” The tension eased a little more, enough that Peter could send his Alpha a shaky smile. “Should I be flattered or worried that you have a biting kink?”

“Both.” Wade decided and the Omega’s breathless giggle trailed off into a quiet moan. “Flattered cos you don’t even have fangs and I got all hot and bothered. Worried cos you’re absolutely right in thinking our kisses are gonna get weird from here one out.”

“Oh my god.” Wade’s joke lightened the air enough to Peter to sit up again, and his purr for his mate was both soothing and grateful they’d managed to salvage the moment. “Ridiculous.”

“Yeah well.” Wade spread his hands vaguely, and tried to smile at his Omega. “Alright now?”

“Getting there.” Peter slid out of his jacket and dropped it over his lap, tugged his fingers through his hair and took a few steadying breaths. “Tell me this though. How uh-- ahem-- how did we go from me growling at the goat to you suffocating me with all your Alpha hormones and your biting kink?”

“Well you know.” The Alpha paced back several steps, a steady rumble from his chest to make sure Pete knew the distance was a good thing for right now, his tone as dry as he could manage as he answered, “I lived up here a long time alone, Pete. You talk about stubborn goats, I get a little growly, it happens.“

“Ah. I see.” Peter’s dark eyes sparkled in sheer delight. “Do goats make you randy, Alpha?”

“I dunno who Randy is.” Wade said flatly. “Does he have a thing for goats too?”

Peter’s screech of laughter echoed out from the cabin and even over the sound of the wind as Wade headed to the barn to deal with the stubborn goat and finish the morning milking.

He needed a minute away from his mate, and he knew Peter needed a minute to get settled again, so the chores were a perfect distraction until things calmed down again.

Enough.

The Alpha was forever grateful for a mate who could drive him out of his mind with nothing more than a smile, and then bring him right back to sanity with a soft touch and quiet word, and not even the winter cold could dampen Wade’s grin or the swirl of affection in his chest.

Omega.

Mine.

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

The first snow of the season came one evening as they were closing up the barn for the night, and Wade looked up in surprise when Peter made an excited noise and rushed out to the middle of the clearing.

“Pete? What are you doing?”

“It’s snowing!” Peter’s nose was red from the cold, cheeks rosy and hair askew from his hat, but his smile was huge as he tipped his head back and opened his mouth wide to try and catch a snowflake on his tongue. “I love the snow!”

“You won’t love it much when there’s six feet of it outside the door.” Wade slid the bar on the barn and grinned at his mate spinning around in the yard. “Get your butt inside before you catch cold, Omega.”

“I’m not going to get pneumonia because I caught a few snowflakes.” Peter waved off the Alpha’s concern and concentrated on letting the tiny flakes land on his palm. “And yeah, I’m sure I’ll hate it in a few weeks, but that’s why I have a big strong Alpha to shovel it away from the door for me, right?”

“Are you staying with me for my snow shoveling skills, Pete?” Wade hooked an arm around Peter’s waist and dragged him up close. “I’m shocked and appalled.”

“You’re neither of those things.” Peter retorted. “You knew why I was keeping you around, Alpha. Kisses and your snow shoveling skills. That’s it.”

“That’s it, huh?” The Alpha sighed theatrically at his sassy mate. “I think you should have to sleep with Bea and Arthur for that. I’ll kiss you goodnight and shovel the snow away in the morning to bring you breakfast. That should hold up my end of the deal, huh?”

“Alpha!” Peter burst out laughing when Wade started shoving him towards the barn. “I thought you said you didn't want to sleep away from me anymore! What happened to always sharing a bed!”

“That was before I knew you only wanted me for my kisses and snow shovel.” Wade grabbed at Peter when the Omega tried to run and threw him right over his shoulder, chuckling over Peter’s ack! of surprise. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“To bed!” Peter pounded at Wade’s back with his fists. “And not in the barn! Put you down you brute!”

“Brat.” Wade swatted at Peter’s rear and the Omega shrieked. “Tell me you want me for more than my snow shoveling skills.”

“I refuse!”

“I’m gonna put you in with the goat.” Wade decided and Peter was laughing too hard to properly scream when the Alpha yanked at the barn doors again. “She likes you just fine. You guys will be the best of friends come morning.”

“Okay okay okay!” Peter clung tight to Wade’s waist as the goat bleated in alarm at their sudden reappearance. “Okay I want you for a whole bunch of reasons, the least of which is so you can shovel snow for me when it gets deep. There’s just so many more reasons why I want you. I’ll start working on a list.”

“Well that works out then.” It took no effort at all for Wade to sweep Peter off his shoulder and cradle the Omega bridal style in his arms as he made an abrupt about face and headed back towards the cabin. “Cos I’ve got a whole bunch of reasons I want you too, Pete.”

“Good.” Peter wriggled up and pursed his lips for a kiss Wade was all too happy to receive. “You’ll still shovel snow for me though, right?”

“Brat.” Wade mumbled, but he still leaned in and bumped their noses together, smiling over the snowflakes sparkling on his mate’s eye lashes. “I’d do anything for you.”

“Alpha my Alpha.” Peter whispered and god Wade loved that so much. “I’d do anything for you too.”

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

Down in Haven, Bruce Banner warmed his hands around his tea cup and took lazy sips of the steaming liquid as he watched the snow come down outside the window.

He loved winter in Haven. The town was beautiful and still, the bustle of hunting season gone away and not set to start up again until the trappers came down the hill in the spring with all their furs. Mutants didn’t get sick quite like humans did, so the common cold wasn’t really a worry. His waiting room wouldn’t be full of nervous mothers and sneezing children, in fact last winter his only calls had been for a few elderly patients and an unfortunate broken leg for one of the kids not blessed with the healing ability found in so many others.

Winter in Haven was calm, and Bruce was the sort of man to always prefer when the world was calm.

“The Omega is like you.” Eddie spoke from behind him and Bruce nodded absentmindedly. “Not from here, he doesn’t belong.”

“No, he doesn’t.” There had been a time when Eddie’s sudden appearance had made Bruce startle, but after almost ten years of knowing Eddie and two of living together, nothing they did bothered the doctor anymore. Not the occasional emergence of the Other lurking inside Eddie, not the nightmares or the fury that could rage so unexpectedly.

“No, Wade’s mate doesn’t belong here.” He said again. “Is that why you startled him at the restaurant a few weeks ago?”

“Wade said there was no harm done.” Eddie never sprawled anymore, they never flopped or stretched out or did anything careless. Every motion was carefully measured, every bit of space they took up carefully allotted lest they do something unacceptable. So no, they didn’t flop into the easy chair, they sat slowly and methodically with arms folded and knees together, shoulders hunched as if trying to hide.

It hurt Bruce’s heart to see Eddie still acting hurt but he knew it was more instinct now than actual fear, so he forewent his usual reminder about relaxing and simply nodded again.

“There was no harm done, Eddie. But is that why you showed him your other side? Because you realized he didn’t belong?”

“We only wanted to see.” A deeper ripple to Eddie’s voice as the Other pushed forward. “We thought he was different like me, but he’s different like you.”

“Peter isn’t a mutant.” Bruce corrected. “But he isn’t from this time, no.”

“Is he from your time?”

“No, he’s from a time further forward than my own.” Bruce poured Eddie a cup of hot chocolate and pushed it towards them. “Why do you ask?”

“He’s dying.” Eddie’s tongue went too long, his teeth too sharp as he inhaled the cocoa scent. “The Omega, Wade’s mate. He’s dying.”

“I think he was just tired or--”

“He’s dying.” Eddie interrupted. “We could smell it, feel him fading. He is dying like you are dying, but you are fading slowly and he is fading faster. He doesn’t have much time left.”

“Cable will be back soon.” Bruce swallowed the last of his tea and poured a fresh cup. “Everything will be alright.”

“Cable should hurry.” Eddie mumbled. “Cable should hurry.”

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

SAY SOMETHING ABOUT THE CHAPTER!

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

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#ncts fics #spideypool #peter parker #wade wilson #abo dynamics #soulmates #bruce banner #eddie brock

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headoverhiddles · 4 years

Text

Hair and Bone - Marilyn Manson x Reader [Smut/Angst]

Synopsis: The new album your boyfriend is recording takes its toll on not only him, but you too.

Notes: Antichrist Superstar era! I never thought I’d write anything for this era, but I was re-reading his book, and these parts that were mentioned of the recording process for AS were just so raw, I really connected with them. So, here’s a self insert to feel all the feels! Warning: Not-so-recreational drug use and brief thoughts of self harm.

This fic can be read as a later sequel to Hotel, Motel, Holiday Inn. Otherwise, it can be a standalone too.

It was the conversation that needed to happen.

It was less of a conversation, really, and more of a tension release, the pop in the balloon you had known was coming. You just wish it had happened at a more convenient time-- not 3 in the morning.

You don't care if your boyfriend gets home at 6 pm or 6 am. You’re used to his schedule being irregular. It was different when he was just starting out-- he’d record music with the guys in the closet or something, or in Jeordie’s bathroom, since it had good acoustics. Now after the success of his first studio album, the pressure for the next one is greater, and he’s putting a lot more work into it. He's in the studio, and you trust him. Tonight, he had ambled in at 2:45 in the morning, and you had been sleeping.

Hearing a faint crash and a string of 'fuck's, you open your eyes, yawn, and get out of bed. It’s either a serial killer, or your boyfriend. Not much difference.

"Bri?" you whisper, holding onto the wall.

"Yeah," he grumbles back. He sits down in the dark living room, and holds his head in his hands, lacing his fingers behind the back of his head. The only light is that of the streetlight across the road from your big, cold New Orleans house.

"You okay?"

He doesn't answer, and you sit on the hardwood floor with him. The black paint that you'd both been meaning to use on the walls still sat, unopened, beside you. It always reminded you of the times you and he would joke around and say how you'd buy a suburban house with a white picket fence, then paint the fence black and watch the neighborhood fall to pieces in uproar. Causing trouble with you always used to bring his spirits up. He doesn't look like he's in a good place right now, though. He hasn't for a while.

"How'd the day go?" you ask softly, crouching down on your knees in front of him.

Marilyn looks up, and you notice how glazed his eyes look. Well, you think, it's no different from any other night. He's always high now. It's not a judgement; merely an observation. He used to say drugs were all for appearances, to act the part of the rock and roll star he wanted so desperately to be. Now, you’re not so sure, but it’s not your place to say anything about it, and you’re not about to.

He looks at you, eyes travelling downward to sweep over your tiny black satin nightgown. You suddenly become aware of how cold you are right now, sitting on the under-heated living room hardwood. Your boyfriend's dark stare, however, heats you up.

Wordlessly, he licks his lips. You let out a breath, and let the thin strap of the nightie fall down your shoulder. It's an invitation... you did miss him.

A quiet moan escapes his lips, and he reaches forward, pressing his mouth to yours. Putting his weight on top of you, he pins you to the floor, peels off his shirt to reveal his pale, thin body, and reaches underneath the nightie. When he finds you naked with no panties, he reaches down to touch himself, unzipping his pants and lowering them just enough. He gives himself a few tugs, letting the blood rush down to his cock.

A breath of hot air on your face, and you feel the head press in, your body slowly accepting him inside. He gives you three seconds to adjust, then starts to fuck in fast and hard. A jolted cry escapes you, and it turns into a sigh as your back arches. Marilyn keeps his hands firmly braced on the hardwood as he pounds into you, each pump of him inside you feeling as if it's bruising. Your hands scramble downward, and you move your fingers to rub your clit, helping yourself along. Marilyn is unaffected by your attempt to pleasure yourself-- he doesn't tease you by taking your fingers away, and doesn't offer to take over. He just keeps fucking you, deep, punched out noises coming out of him with each thrust.

After a minute, one of his hands finds your breast, squeezing roughly, like his hand can't get enough. You choke out a noise, and you look up at his face to see that he's glowering down at you. His hair is draped around you, and it again brings you back to fond memories of Brian grinning, calling it a curtain so that the world can't see the two of you fuck.

He's not smiling now. His face is completely devoid of emotion-- at least for a moment. His black eyeshadow makes his eyes appear hollow, and you usually find it sexy, but tonight in the dark, on top of you, he looks ghoulish. His face contorts, and his lips part. His slender hips stutter, and you rub your fingers faster, desperately, feeling your release build, needing it as you grind down onto his cock.

"Wait, wait," you beg, panting into his neck, "Wait..."

He grunts a couple of times, slamming in hard, and you feel the trickle before you or he can bring you to an orgasm first. His breathing evens out, and with a sigh, he pulls out. As if he's mechanical, like he knows he’s expected to, he replaces his dick with his fingers-- three, he's not wasting time-- and starts to mercilessly shove them in. He knows all your spots. His fingers brush your G-spot as he bends them right where he knows you'll cum, and you do, gasping his name as he painfully gives you what you need.

The two of you just lie there, staring at the dark ceiling. After about five minutes, the dark starts to move before your eyes, making you see stars, and you need to sit up.

Rubbing your head, you yawn. "You wanna talk about it?"

He doesn't look at you.

"Brian?"

"No."

You look out the window, facing every possible reality. "Is there another woman?"

"No."

"Then what is it?"

The fuse that your initial question lit now explodes in your face.

"Sometimes I don't want to fucking speak, okay? Can you just respect that and shut the fuck up?"

It’s like a slap in the face. Worse. "...Okay," you murmur, curling in on yourself as he stands up. Then a voice in your head tells you, fuck that. You're always here for him. You've been here for him since he even had the glimmer of an idea for a band, and had supported him through everything. Sure, he'd supported you too in everything you'd done since then-- graduating school, moving with him, saying goodbye to your family to come out here. But these past few months, it was as if he was possessed by something darker than all the demons he sang about.

"You know what?" you whisper, "You can't tell me to shut up."

"Really?"

"You know why?"

"Why?"

"Because I've kept my mouth shut for too long. It's your life. I will always be proud of you, and supportive of you, and I will never tell you what to do. But when you say shit like that to me? I don't deserve that." He doesn't answer, and you feel your blood rising. "You'd better agree with me real fast."

"You can't possibly fucking imagine the stress I'm under right now," he shoots back, "My band is falling apart. I feel like I'm falling apart."

"And I'm trying to help you," you insist.

"You can't help me. You're just in my way." The weight of his words are crushing. "I feel like a hamster in a wheel, (y/n), and I'm ready to chew my own arm off. I'm not getting anywhere and it's because I have some fucked up idea of a perfect life with you, some stupid notion that entered my stupid unconscious grey matter back when I started this disjointed excuse for a fucking band. I can't make the record I want to make to get to the future I want to make with you, it’s all dead ends and it's killing me!"

You balk. And this is somehow your fault? "What am I supposed to do about it?"

"You can't do anything. All you can do at this point is fuck me when I need you, and leave me the hell alone otherwise." Through the darkness, you can't see the tear running down his cheek. He doesn't mean it. He doesn't mean any of it, he wishes the automatic wiring of his jaw would stop, just stop, stop talking you fucker!

"Wow. You are something. Why don't you go run to your boyfriend Trent? I'm sure he could help with all of that."

Apologize. Hold her in your arms and make her forget this stupid fight happened. "Yeah, you know what? Maybe I will. He probably gives better head than you too!" That stings. You've always prided yourself on your blow jobs.

"Fuck you, Brian Warner."

He doesn't answer. He just glares, a glare that seems to drill right through you, like he's not even glaring at you anymore.

You put a coat and his pants on, since they're the first ones you find, pick up your bag, shove a few things into it, and leave. He watches you go, numb as he seems to feel every waking moment of his life now. The stubbornness in him won't let him break down and cry, or throw something, or beat himself in the stomach until he throws up. He can only stand there, the silence like knives digging into his ears.

---

It's 6:15 am, and you're waiting for the bus to the airport. Your mom had offered to come pick you up when you get home from New Orleans, and you had gladly accepted. You need your family right now more than ever.

Approaching the flight desk, you look up at all the listings of flights.

"Excuse me, is flight 237 updated?" you frown. She types something in.

"Yes, that's the latest. I'm afraid the cancellation is due to unforeseen weather conditions at the destination. We can get you on another flight tomorrow."

You thank her, and leave the airport. You could just sleep in there, but you honestly don't know what to do with yourself. You just want to lay on the floor and cry away those six years you had been with him... and crying on floors is usually frowned upon in airports.

If Brian was here, he'd tell you to do it, just to see what people would say.

You walk out of the building.

---

"Hey."

Marilyn doesn't notice Twiggy's greeting as he enters Nothing Records' studio, which is just Trent's glorified rockstar pad. Jokingly to get his attention, Twiggy takes off his shoe, and tosses it at Marilyn's head. Marilyn stops, picks it up, takes Pogo's ligher, lights the shoe up, and sends it crashing through the window. If Twiggy had eyebrows, he would raise them. Trent's head appears in the doorway from the other room.

"Yeah. You’ll be billed for that. I take it you didn't have a good night." And just like that, the light mood he had walked in on was now compromised. Great going, Brian. You fuck up. Now they’re not only gonna wanna not work and do coke all day, but they’re gonna wanna not work and do coke all day without you.

Ginger wisely stays out of it, opting instead to use the kitchen for some weird yoga thing he'd been getting into. Daisy is sitting outside on the steps of the house doubling as a studio, recording personal shit into his tape. Pogo walks through the broken glass to go upstairs, and Twiggy awkwardly shuffles backward that way.

"Mar. There's, uhhh.... there's a table of blow upstairs if you need it. Y'know... you... look like you could use a line or two." His best friend gives a sympathetic half smile, offering solace the only way he knows how. He looks like he wants to say something else-- to offer council, comfort, anything, but he dashes skittishly the other way as soon as Marilyn turns. The frontman really can't blame Jeordie. He's fallen even further into the dope than he has himself, he started a long ass time ago, and moreover, Jeord knows by now that talking to him like this is like poking a bear.

The singer gives a quick glance out the window to make sure he's not currently burning Trent's house down with pyrotechnic footwear (he can pay for a broken window, but a burned down house would seriously deprive their touring funds). When he sees that the shoe is just burning calmly on the sidewalk, contained in its own little bubble of anarchy as it quietly disintegrates to ash, Marilyn relates the shoe to his own life.

Or maybe he just wishes that were him.

Promising himself he wouldn't break down again, he floats like a ghost over to the recording equipment. Their label manager is in the den, watching hockey with Trent or some stupid sports bullshit like that, which leaves him alone, again, to actually try making music. That's what he does, right? That's what he’s supposed to do.

His rough recording of the track 'Tourniquet' is open on the laptop, and for no reason in particular, he starts to play it. Listening to the words, he closed his eyes, and thinks of you. He thinks of your hand holding his, how happy you get when you watch him perform. He hears you whispering that you love him, that he’s enough, that he isn't broken, that maybe it’s just the system that’s broken.

Leaning his head down on the table, he lets all the emotions wash over him, lets the tears drop and watches the red carpet beneath his knees turn them into drops of blood. Digging around under said carpet, he takes out a small bag they had all stashed under there for "emergencies." He doesn't want to do it. He almost splits the bag, almost watches it all pour out, sifting through the floorboards like sugar. But he can't do that. Not that he doesn't have the willpower to quit it now-- he most certainly does-- it just seems like a bigger fuck you to do the coke than to throw it away in favor of self reflection.

Lifting a bump on his knuckle up to his nose, he snorts the powder up, and squeezes his eyes shut. He's becoming numb to it. He gives himself another, and another. After five, he quits when he finally gets the high he wants, dropping the bag and digging his forehead into the table.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

Reaching for the mic, he sets it up with shaking hands, turning those hands into fists and tapping an S.O.S into the table, wishing you could hear it and come running to him. He holds the mic, and whispers, clear as day, into it:

"This is my lowest point of vulnerability.”

---

An hour must have gone by, and Marilyn finally drags himself up. Walking out to the front steps of the house, he sits down next to Daisy, the Sexual Janitor, his oldest friend and the only soul on the premises who isn't hopelessly doped up.

"You're not having a good day," the guitarist remarks softly, not looking up from his strings.

"What gave me away?" Marilyn mutters sarcastically, rubbing his sore nose. Daisy looks up, studies him. Marilyn doesn't like to be studied, so he looks away. "(y/n) left." Daisy runs a hand through his green hair, nods.

They sit for a bit, just exist. Daisy picks up a half-smoked cigarette from the step beside him, and offers it to his friend. The singer glances at it, repulsed, but accepts it anyway between his fingers. He takes a pull, then remembers why smoking is one of his biggest pet peeves. Whipping it into the street to join Twiggy's burning shoe before Daisy can take it back, he coughs, waves the offending cloud away and groans into his hands.

"My life is falling apart, Scott. I feel like I just lost the last piece that was holding it together."

Daisy nods again. "I get it. You're losing it. We're all losing it."

"Says the most conscious man here," Marilyn laughs bitterly, almost envious of Daisy's sobriety.

"You don't have to be high to feel like you're out touch," Daisy says, strumming his chords, "And I certainly don't have to be high to know you are out of touch with not only this band, but who you want to be."

"Shit. Thanks, doc. This is really helpful. I think I'm gonna go inside now and blow my brains out."

"Hey. Dickwad." Daisy puts down his guitar. "We've both known (y/n) since Spooky Kids. You were closer to her, obviously, but she's a special one. She's stayed for this long, through your worst. And you've been terrible. Don't lose her now."

Marilyn sighs, rubbing at his eyes, wondering if his headache is from sleep deprivation or a long overdue brain aneurysm.

Daisy doesn't encourage him to open up. He doesn't tell him to accept that it's human nature to be co-dependent. He doesn't tell Marilyn that's love or some stupid shit like that, doesn’t mention that it's in his nature to push people away. He knows his friend too well to even attempt it. He just leans back against the door, and hums.

"We could all die tomorrow. Wouldn't you want to be with her your last night?"

Marilyn pauses. He's never really thought of it like that. "Hey. When did you get so wise?" the singer chuckles.

Daisy just smiles, going back to his guitar. "You haven't talked to me properly in like, 4 years. We used to be close, man."

"Yeah," Marilyn muses, "Yeah."

---

Standing in front of the house, you wonder why you're back. You've told yourself at least ten times it's to grab the rest of your stuff so you don't have to pay him to ship it out to you, but the more you stand here, key in hand, the more you doubt that's the reason you returned.

Taking a deep breath and shaking your head, you force yourself past the walkway, and let yourself in.

"Hello?" the door creaks, and opens to an empty house. Good. No distractions.

Walking around, you start to pack all your things properly, and see evidence of a very tough morning in the bathroom. Writing out a note, you think of what you want to say to him. You'd given him so many years of your life, and he you, since you were both angsty kids who just wanted to make your mark on the world. You write out one of his lyrics he had shared with you in bed the other night... if you could just remember them right:

I wrapped our love in all this foil

Silver-tight like spider legs

I never wanted it to ever spoil

But flies will...

Ah, fuck it. You crumple the paper. You can’t remember the lyrics properly, and that’ll just do more harm than good. After all... he's the poet, not you.

Just then, you hear the door knob jiggle, and keys in the lock.

Oh god. You do not have the emotional stability right now to deal with this confrontation. Ducking behind the couch, you lay on your back and try to keep quiet.

He tosses his keys onto the table, and sighs. He starts mumbling something, but you can't hear.

---

Marilyn rubs his face, starting to think about dinner. He had an opened packet of kraft dinner somewhere in some cupboard, and even though it would be stale, that sounded pretty good. Mac and cheese with ketchup. White trash through and through and more unhealthy shit to ruin his body with. Whatever. Mac and cheese is comfort food... or so his mom told him.

He runs over the events of the day in his head as he counts how many things he had gotten done. Pissed half his band-mates off, reconnected with one. The middle of the day was a coked up white blur, and... well... he had finished Tourniquet, and Dried Up, Tied was pretty much ready for demo. That's more than he'd done in a month, but he felt as if he had gone backward, not forward.

Grab a razor blade, take your shirt off, and check and see if your worthless heart is still pumping blood.

He stamps the intrusive impulse down, and gives an indifferent huff.

As he walks past the dark living room, not bothering to turn on a lamp, the streetlight from outside catches the metal of something he has sitting on a shelf. He backtracks, and finds a few of his lunchboxes from the collection he hadn't finished unpacking yet. He half smiles, looking at the Scooby Doo one, the Planet of the Apes one, and the one that even had his old band's name on it. Marilyn Manson and the Spooky Kids.

He feels a stab of guilt, and makes a mental note to go easier on Daisy. He did contribute a lot in the days of the old gigs.

Why is he referring to it as his old band? It's still the same band. But somehow, it isn't. They had grown up, into darker, scarier versions of themselves, each one of them on their own personal path of destruction, taking out everything and everyone in their way. Fundamentally loathsome.

Marilyn scratches his bony rib cage and turns away from the shelf, muttering about filing that one away for a future song or something. He walks over to the fridge, blows off dinner, and grabs a beer, chugging half of it down and heading back toward the living room. With any luck, he'll have put down three bottles by midnight.

---

You bite your fist. Hiding definitely wasn't a good idea. Just telling him you were grabbing a couple of things and leaving for good would have done just fine, not... hiding behind your old couch in the dark like a goddamn Nosferatu!

Shit. He's coming over here... maybe if you try and crawl around the cushions...

Marilyn frowns as he sees something move out of the corner of his eye. This time, it isn't metal glinting. This is real movement.

"Satan? Is that you?" he whispers, and lets out a humorless laugh. Ah, the small joys of sharing an inside joke with yourself. (y/n) would find it funny. He swings the beer bottle in his hand, setting it down beside the couch. "If it is... I could use a bit of your black spell shit, you magical goat motherfucker. See, I've got this girl. She's everything I want, but of course, I fuck up things that're good in my life-- you know me-- so that's done. Congratu-fuckin-lations, Manson, you’ve done it again. So, if you wanna... take my soul or something, if it's not too damaged, you can go right ahead, buddy. No returns. If I didn't have a soul, I'd have a lot less pr--" He lets out a piercing yell as he sees you crawling on his floor. That's not Satan.

Flicking the closest lamp on, he sees it’s you. "(y/n)!"

You glare at him. "I was getting my things."

"On the floor?!"

"You hide drugs in the floor, why can't I?"

"You don't d... what the fuck are you doing here, and... oh god, I thought you were some crazy girl who got in through my window or something.”

“You thought I was Satan.”

“I thought you were gonna kill me!"

You shrug. "I still might." Marilyn almost lets out an incredulous laugh of relief. It's almost like old times again. You frown, and remember why you're there, and that it is not, in fact, like old times. "Just... I'm not ready to talk to you. Please don't try."

You quickly grab your things, and he stands there. "Why'd you come back when you knew I could be here?"

"Don't make this about you. I'm leaving."

"Go ahead, leave. I'm just asking a question, god forbid." Shut up! Don’t do this again. Tell her you're sorry, you stupid prick, tell her you love her, like you rehearsed!

"Yes, god forbid you try and talk to me after you told me last night I was a useless fucktoy, Brian."

The room fills with the same old silence again, and you roll your eyes. You should have known nothing would change. He sits down, and watches you pack. He watches you put everything in your bag, everything he'd committed to memory over the past 7 years... stuff of yours that had become stuff of his too. It was so strange, seeing everything hidden away in the flaps of your duffel bag.

He isn't numb anymore. He's in pain, and he knows you are too, because of him. That's not fair, and if his ambition proved anything, it was his capability to unfuck things that were not meant to get fucked in the first place.

"I miss laughing."

"What?" you demand.

"I miss laughing," he repeats. "I haven't smiled properly in a year. I'm depressed, sure, but who isn't? It isn't an excuse. Sometimes I wonder if there is a hypocritical, horrible, sick bastard of a god watching me. Sometimes I wonder if he would laugh at me if I prayed to him."

"Yeah. Well. I pray sometimes, to whatever the hell's out there. Sometimes I pray my life was just a dream," you say, and he looks at you.

"(y/n). I love you so damn much."

You suck in a breath. If you turn around and look at him, you'll be lost again. But like any good drug, you just can't resist.

Turning around, you walk over to him. Sighing, you sit in his lap, moving your legs over the arm of the chair so that you're draped over him. You two sit like that for a bit, neither one of you willing to be the first one to make physical contact. You're both too stubborn. Eventually, you know you're going to have to be the one to do it. You know he's already hugged you a billion times in his mind in the last minute, and he's punishing himself more than you ever could.

"You're still an asshole," you whisper.

"I'll always be an asshole," he mutters back, "It's in my DNA. I can't change that." I can be less of an asshole to the people who love me. I promise. His eyes seem to say it, and you understand. You take his hand, which allows him to subsequently pull you in and cradle you.

"Yeah. Just don't forget who was there for this asshole's first show."

"Mmm."

"You dedicated Lucy In The Sky With Demons to me."

"Yeah. I remember."

"Listen. I love you too. I don't wanna leave. Okay? So I'm not going to."

He buries his face into your neck, and you let him release anything he's been feeling since last night, anything he's been repressing. You rub his back gently, and he squeezes you tighter as he chokes out your name, shaking violently with every sob.

"I know, Bri. I know. I'm here."

A few minutes go by. He wipes his face, and it starts to rain outside. You glance out the window. "Guess I'm really not leaving tonight."

He hums. "You want mac and cheese?"

"Uhhh, is that even a question?"

You roll off him. He presses a kiss to the top of your head, and walks over to the kitchen to root around in the cupboard. You lay on your back again in starfish position, staring at the mildewy ceiling of this crappy old house.

"I lit Jeordie's shoe on fire today!" your boyfriend calls out to you, "Nearly burned Trent's house down. Would've been an improvement, it's an ugly fucking house and sad excuse for a studio. You should see it. That jerk-off should pay me to burn it down, swear to the holy old bastard in the sky." You giggle into a pillow.

There's your antichrist.

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fauveshumankaiju · 4 years

Text

Jet Jaguar commits a crime

Monsuta was a pretty place during the day, but it was almost prettier at night.

With nothing but the oily yellow streetlights and the glinting of the city further down the bay to illuminate the road, you couldn’t see the cracks and potholes on it. The dark was a tasteful gauzy curtain over all the public works projects waiting to happen in their seaside town.

Jet Jaguar sent a can skittering across the sidewalk by accident as he walked, and he looped back to pick it up and shotput it into a trashcan in front of the darkened H-Mart. The only sound besides the light clink of it hitting the rim and bouncing off was the distant highway hum and the quiet whisper of the waves a few blocks over. Somewhere nearby, a radio was playing. Tourist season wouldn’t pick up for a few months; the beachside vendors hadn’t moved back up north yet, and midnight saw all the Monsuta restaurants near the boardwalk closed.

It also saw Jet Jaguar responding to inane store alarms every hour or so.

Not that he had anything better to do than roll up to convenience stores and verify that no, a raccoon knocking over a pile of empty boxes did not constitute an appropriate alarm trigger. If he were lucky he’d be sitting in his cop car, snacking on Rokuro’s gummy bears and reading Dear Abby on his phone in the dark. If he wasn’t lucky, he’d run into someone troublesome and he’d be coming home late covered in bruises and Mothra’s suture tape again.

Monsuta’s a great posting for a rookie cop! They’d said. Quiet little resort town where you can really get to know people, like a cop in a kid’s picture book, they said. Get cats out of trees and do photoshoots at picnics, they said. Nobody prepared him for getting starched with a dentist’s prosthetic arm on his first week on the beat. No wonder nobody’d been posted there for a decade.

The only reason that Monsuta had so quiet for so long on nights like these was because someone was doing her level best to keep them quiet.

And speak of the devil.

Across the street, a familiar figure was leaning against an office building storefront, out of the way of the streetlights, doing their best to look innocuous. Jet Jaguar didn’t graduate top of his class by Not Seeing Innocuous Things, though, and he didn’t get roughed up by Megalon, of all people, by not exploring things that were better left unseen.

“Hey!” He called out as he crossed the street, hands in his pockets, doing his best Non-Threatening Amble.

The shadow turned and unstuck itself from the wall. Gojira, scourge of the Monsuta streets, popped her knuckles and gave him a single sharp nod of acknowledgement as he came up to her. She was in all black, her hood pulled up, and if Jet hadn’t become intimately acquainted with her silhouette when they had their stand-off against the terrible duo he might not have recognized her.

“What’s up, Goji?”

“Not much.”

“It’s a little late out, isn’t it?”

“... Eh.”

Jet Jaguar looked around. “Who are we looking out for, chief?”

“What makes you think we’re looking out for anyone?”

“Well, it’s midnight on a Wednesday night, and I’m pretty sure you have a full time job and a family at home, so I don’t think I need my detective skills to tell that something’s going on. I just don’t know why you wouldn’t invite me. Extra pair of handcuffs would come in handy if you think Mr. Ghidorah’s going to try to bother someone.”

“Mmh.” She crossed her arms, sounding a little defiant.

“What, you’re not planning something illegal, are you?”

Silence.

“Goji, man.”

“Not felony illegal…” he heard a smile in her voice.

“Goji.”

Someone was coming their way. The two of them looked up. A tall figure, also dressed in all black, hands laden with bags, meeting them on the sidewalk. Jet picked up on Goji’s tension and his hand slipped casually out of his pocket to the taser on his belt. He thought he’d met most of the Monsutans that he’d be seeing on the job since he got here late last year, but the town kept surprising him.

Goji lifted a few fingers in greeting. He wondered if their guest could even see it in the dark.

“Who is this?” The woman asked quietly as she stopped in front of them, head turned to Jet like she was staring him up and down. She had a low, rich voice and a strong accent that he couldn’t place.

“Jet Jaguar. He’s a, uh, friend cop.”

“Hi there,” Jet interjected with a thumbs up. “Nice to meet you..?” He couldn’t tell if he’d met the stranger before. Surely he’d remember her low, accented voice or her eyebrow-raising height.

After a moment – “I suppose I have no choice but to trust your discretion now,” she stranger sighed. “I am Biollante.”

“She lives on South-Southeast,” Goji added casually. “You know, other side of the interstate. She fractured my sternum with a gardening hoe once.”

“Always great to meet a neighbor,” Jet said. “Are you gonna tell me what you guys are doing?”

Not the breaking-Goji’s-sternum-with-a-tool thing, that was pretty par the course for her. She made most of her friends after they beat each other up – Jet was actually the only person that he knew that she hadn’t, at some point, thrown down with. He’d hoped that the Ghidorahs would be the latest addition to her coterie, but that was a long time in coming, if it ever happened.

Goji and Biollante looked at each other for a long second. Biollante huffed, Goji shrugged.

“Your party, your guest list,” Goji said.

“Alright, if you vouch for him, then – he already knows too much to let him leave.”

“I actually don’t know anything,” Jet said, raising his eyebrows at her cold, serious tone.

Goji made a noise and motioned with her head. Biollante nodded and handed her one of the cloth bags she was carrying, then, with a moment of calculation, gave one to Jet Jaguar as well. He took it, felt the bottom – it felt almost like a bag of rice, something granular and heavy that swung as they turned the corner at the end of the block. He remembered where they were now; this was one of the Ghidorah’s newest apartment complexes. It was in the process of being finished, he had done a brief perimeter security assessment earlier that month.

“Alright, this is good,” Goji said when they reached the side gate. The three looked up. 8 feet of wrought-iron, brick and bushes on either side. Even though it wasn’t the front gate, it was still awfully intimidating.

“We going to TP their house? I don’t think they actually live here,” Jet said dryly as Goji leaned down, lacing her fingers together. Biollante delicately hiked her long black skirt up to her ankle and placed her foot on the construction worker’s hands. A nod and a grunt and Goji launched her up and over the fence to the other side.

“Nah, not TP. Something better,” she said, looking up at Jet expectantly. He looked at Biollante on the other side of the fence, sighed, took hold of the bag and let Goji toss him over like a sack of grain. He hadn’t pulled something like this since the academy, and even though he wasn’t entirely convinced that he wasn’t aiding and abetting a crime, he had to say that this was more interesting than what he’d otherwise be doing on a night like tonight.

Goji hit the ground behind them with surprising grace, and she straightened up with military speed and precision. “Alright, let’s move out.”

Biollante pointed towards the center of the lot. The construction equipment had mostly been taken back now that the landscaping was done, and in the dim light from the sidewalk Jet could see fresh slices of grass and perfectly cleaned, empty flowerbeds spreading out in front of the empty apartment complex. Everything was clean, sanitized, sharp as a scalpel. That was why Goji hated the Ghidorahs – that’s what they were like, too.

They followed Biollante, zig-zagging ducking behind bushes on the way. They were probably avoiding the security cameras, Jet thought, mildly impressed and a little concerned about the property’s security.

“Now,” Biollante hissed, turning around. “We go in, we spread the seeds – in handfuls, like this, not clumps-“ she made a flicking gesture with her wrist – “in all the areas with tilled soil. Try to save enough for the entire area, and, if you’re not overgenerous, for the lawn, as well. Get broad coverage.”

“Sweet.”

Jet looked into the bag, squinting, as if he could see anything in the dark anyways. Biollante was already off, like a ninja in a floor length skirt. Goji shrugged at Jet and the two moved perpendicular to her, tossing out seeds on their way.

“These are local species,” Goji finally said. “They’re planning to plant all kinds of weird tropical things here instead, and Biollante thought it’d be a great idea to seed-bomb ‘em with weeds. They’d have to tear the whole thing up to get rid of them all.”

Ah, that explained it. Sort of. He knew there had to be a ‘screw you, Ghidorahs!’ angle in here, but this was definitely a weird one to take.

“She came up with it and asked me to help,” Goji admitted. “Got to hand it to someone who can make up with someone who kicked their ass. Strength of character.”

“That is how you made, like, all of your friends. You fight-zoned them.”

Goji snorted. They reached the end of the plot and doubled back at a leisurely pace, Biollante’s concern for secrecy forgotten. It was nice, getting to spend time with friends on the job. Jet got the impression that if he didn’t start getting out more, Goro was going to think he was a shut-in and start charity-inviting their lodger to the family’s work events.

A rush of black and the sound of distant shouting was the only warning that Biollante had doubled back to them, holding her skirt up, empty bags in her fists.

“Security guards,” she whispered harshly as she passed. “The shift change must be over.” Goji and Jet looked at each other. From the other side of the building the voices got clearer. Jet saw the blink of flashlights coming around the corner just as he and Goji booked it back to the gate, where Biollante was struggling to get over it herself. Goji gave her a last inelegant push to the bottom of her foot and she flipped over the top.

“C’mon, kid,” Goji said, wiggling her fingers at Jet. Behind them he heard several pairs of footfalls and the sounds of aggravated voices. He took her hand, callused and capable, and she grabbed him by the nape of his police uniform collar and yanked him over the edge like he weighed as much as a bag of indigenous flora seeds. He probably bruised his spine going over and he almost landed wrong, but damn, it felt good to be out in the field. He barely cleared out of the way as Goji joined them on the other side.

“Split,” she said to Biollante with a nod. “Hope you can run fast.”

“See to yourself,” Biollante remarked. Then, “It was a pleasure working with you, Gojira.”

“Yeah, always up to cause trouble. See you around.” She jerked her head up, and Biollante turned to slip away into the lacunae between the streetlights.

“Hey! What are you doing around here?” One of the security guards called. Goji grabbed Jet’s arm and the two of them sprinted down the block in the opposite direction, Jet with his policeman’s cap pulled down over his head and Goji in her hood, trying to avoid detection. God, he hoped that Ni Ghidorah wasn’t gonna be out tonight; the thought of outrunning the sadistic speedster made his heart race jump to an even higher pitch.

The two of them skidded past Jet’s parked police car, past the convenience store – he wasn’t sure if they were being pursued or if Goji was just running for the sake of running – until they met the margin of the boardwalk and the beach and they finally slowed down, Goji clamping her hands on her side and wheezing, bent over, and Jet leaning against a bench.

“We totally weren’t being chased.”

“You also totally have a police uniform on. Not like you were being, uh.. good at hiding your identity.”

“Yeah, I didn’t get the all-black memo. Must have missed that one.”

Goji leaned over. Jet braced himself for what he knew was coming next – a rib bruising back-slap of brotherhood that he’d only recently qualified to be subjected to as a member of the Monsuta Protection Squad. He’d almost rather take another one of Gigan’s elbows to the solar plexus.

“Next time I’ll invite you. Now I know you’re cool with crime.”

“It was just minor trespassing, it doesn’t count. We were planting flowers. That’s the absolute margin of illegality.”

“Hell, yeah. I bet we ruined their fucking lawn. Serves them right.” Goji straightened her back and popped her knuckles. Turning further down the beach towards the familiar house in the distance, she raised a few fingers. “I’m out. Have fun on shift, crime cop.”

“Yeah, have fun – uh – getting a good night’s rest,” he finished lamely. His response was lost in the gentle lapping of the waves anyway. Without turning, Goji made an inscrutable waving gesture. Jet watched her for a few moments, hands in his pockets, catching his breath, and then turned back to Monsuta. The streetlights further down towards the city were glinting orange and white; the water was calm and inky black. The night was a tasteful curtain that was parted for the sleeping city.

And it was time for him to get back to work.

#fauve writes a MINIFIC!!#writing #jet jaguar #crimecop....

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365daysofsasuhina · 5 years

Text

[ 365 Days of SasuHina || Day One Hundred Sixty-Seven: Explore ] [ Uchiha Sasuke, Hyūga Hinata ] [ SasuHina, pregnancy, death ] [ Verse: River Runs Deep ] [ AO3 Link ]

It was a strange old house. Nothing like the one they left behind in the city. That one had been sleek, modern...if not small, with hardly any yard. But their new home - back in the country, in the foothills of a small mountain - was...well, huge. Old. And old fashioned, too. Complete with engawa, fusuma, tatami floors...and old house smell. Not mold, of course. Just...aged wood and paper. And the yard...the yard was huge! With few houses in the countryside, there wasn’t even a fence - just openness out into fields and the nearby woods.

And at first, Hinata didn’t understand the reason they left the city for the country. Hiashi had told her it was because her mother - pregnant with her second child - needed some fresh air, and peace and quiet. Which, young Hinata supposed, made sense. Having a baby was a pretty big deal! Everyone was excited for it: her mother, her father, and of course herself. Finally she would have a little sibling to play with!

...if only she knew what she would lose in the process.

Her mother, a soft and kind soul, took to their new home well. Enjoying the sun and breezes, she would often sit on the front deck, dozing in the morning light. Hinata would always join her, leaned against her side.

“Soon, Hinata...a new life will bloom. Time will move forward. We will grow...and we will wither. Be sure to give this new blossom all of your love to help it thrive.”

“H...hai!”

The day came in late March, Winter still firmly gripping their province. Left at home with a neighbor, Hinata watched her father’s car pull away in the snow toward the local hospital.

Two people left...and a week later, two people came home.

The day prior, the phone had rung. Their neighbor’s face was strained, and somber. “...I see. No, I understand. I’ll leave such matters to you. Please, travel safely.”

When Hiashi walked in, a small bundle in his arms, Hinata ran to meet him. He walked past her, avoiding her eyes. Looking to the door, she waited for her mother.

And waited.

...and waited…

But she never came.

The baby was a girl. Hanabi, her name. And as her mother gave her life, so did she take life away.

One flower blossomed...and another withered away.

It took time to comprehend. Death was yet a foreign concept to one so young, not even yet five years old. But in time, she knew: her mother was not coming back. She had gone to a place Hinata could not yet follow. Not until it was her own time.

The old house grew quiet. Heavy. Still. Even the coming of Spring felt muted. Without her mother’s light, the colors felt faint. The breeze not so sweet. The warmth still tinged with an edge of cold.

...but...she did as her mother asked. Gave the new life the love she could. She didn’t yet make the connection - didn’t yet know that Hanabi’s life cost her their mother’s.

Only Hiashi knew...and he wasn’t telling.

Time, however, went ever marching forward. It bowed to no whim, not even grieving family. Soon Hinata was enrolled in the local school. Despite her mother’s loss, they remained in the big old house. Whether it was money, apathy, or something else, she didn’t know...but in reality, Hinata didn’t mind. This was home now. Even without her mother.

And as she got older, and bolder...she started, at last, to explore around their home. Hiashi, at first, had warned her not to wander. But his own melancholy meant a lighter regard for his eldest’s actions. And as she took to going further and further from home...he couldn’t bring himself to notice.

The field wasn’t of much interest. The rolling grass could hide many things, but most would scatter long before Hinata could so much as see them. A small creek ran along the front of the house, where tadpoles hid in pockets of slow water, little fish like silver streaks in the sunlight. Hinata could crouch at its edge for hours, watching water striders and crawfish go about their business. Even toads would amble about in the mud from time to time.

But what most held Hinata’s curiosity...was the wood behind the house. It stretched back for miles, up over the hills and toward the mountain that watched over their house.

At first, even her newfound bravery wasn’t enough to get her to step beneath the arching boughs of the trees. Shadows filled the nooks and crannies. And while the grass could hide little critters...the big trunks, rocks, and branches could be concealing any manner of creature…!

But now? Now, Hinata is twelve years old, nearly thirteen. She’s not the timid little kid she was before. And as the rift between herself and her family threatens to widen - Hiashi favoring his younger daughter, and Hanabi soaking up the attention like a sponge - Hinata finds herself...alone.

Staring with pale eyes into the wood, a pack on her shoulders with a bento for her hike...she takes her first steps into the treeline.

Almost immediately, the Summer air cools in the shade of the boughs. The sound of rustling leaves creates a quiet ambience, along with cicada calls and other gentle noises of the forest.

It feels so...peaceful here.

Continuing along a barely-hinted path, Hinata simply takes in the sights. True, there’s not much in the way of sightseeing: it’s mostly just trees, trees, and more trees. But then something catches her eye.

Along a deep divot in a large, old tree...a little shrine has been erected. A crooked tiny torī gate sits over a tiny jinja, an offering plate mostly bare...save for several pristine black feathers.

Hinata stares. Her family has never been overtly religious. They’ll visit a shrine on New Year’s, but...nothing more, save for funerals or weddings. But she has an overwhelming urge to leave something.

Taking her pack from her shoulders, Hinata digs out her bento. It’s not pretty: she was in a hurry to get out of the house this morning. Looking over her meager meal, she plucks a round red fruit from the corner, laying it on the dish before clapping her hands with a little bow. Once that’s done, she packs up her box and starts to move down the path.

But the soft whisper of feathers makes her pause...and look back.

...nothing.

...but, wait…

Her tomato is gone!

She stiffens, jogging back. Did a bird swoop down and steal it? How rude! Checking around the little shrine, she doesn’t see it: it didn’t fall...it must have been swiped.

“It’s been a while since someone left something here.”

Gasping, she stumbles back a few steps before collapsing to her backside. Looking up into the tree, she spots - perched on a branch - a boy in old clothes like she’s seen in her history books. But...another few moments of staring let her notice the dark, silky wings folded at his sides.

“You’re...y-you’re a…!”

“Tengu.” With that, he takes a sharp bite...out of her tomato!

“H-hey!”

“What?”

“That’s for the kami!”

The boy narrows his eyes with a pout. “And what do I look like to you?”

“I...I-I thought tengu were...yōkai…?”

He scoffs, taking another bite. “Shows what you know.” Chewing, he then explains, “We're the guardians of the mountain. And that includes here, too. So, the shrine’s ours. As it happens, I love tomatoes, so...I took it. As I should.”

Hinata just...blinks. In all reality, she never thought such a being was real, let alone that she could argue its category with it. Shifting to sit a bit more comfortably, she asks, “...so...you’re really not h-human…?”

After a pause, he flares his wings. “Do these look like something a human would have?”

“N...no…”

“So...no. I’m not human. I told you, I’m a tengu!”

“Can you fly…?”

“Of course I can fly!” Standing, he chucks the tomato stem into the foliage. With a flap, he glides down to the path in front of her. “See?”

The girl brightens with wonder. “That’s...amazing…!”

Ego clearly stoked, the boy gives another scoff...and a smile off to one side. “I’m a son of the clan head! He watches over this whole forest...and someday, my brother and I will, too!”

“You have a brother?”

“Mhm, he’s older than me...but I’m faster!”

“I-I have a little sister. She’s louder than me…”

“And you’re braver! I’ve seen you exploring around the woods...your sister never leaves that house!”

Hinata gives a soft laugh. “She doesn’t like outside...there’s dirt, and bugs.”

“Well of course there is! It’s outside!” As though floating, he lifts, folding his arms and legs before settling on the grass. “So...what are you doing in here, human? No one like you comes here anymore…”

“I guess I was just...curious. And I like being outside...away from the house.”

The tengu’s head tilts. “You don’t like your home…?”

“It’s...c-complicated. And...I’m not just human, ne? My name’s Hinata.”

“And I’m Sasuke!”

“Are there...more spirits in these woods?”

“Mhm. There’s not many humans, so we thrive here! My father was worried when you humans came to that house, but...none of you have bothered us.”

“E-except me…”

Sasuke considers her. “...well, you seem nice for a human. You even left a gift at the shrine. No one does that anymore…”

“I t-thought it would be polite.”

“Will you...come back?”

Hinata’s head tilts. “...I guess so. It’s a bit late, now...I should probably go home.”

“Already?”

“I don’t want my f-father to scold me.”

“Oh...okay.” With that, he leaps to his feet with a small flurry of air. “I’ll go with you. Make sure you don’t get lost.” Sasuke then offers a hand.

“...oh! T...thank you.” Letting him lift her, for a moment, Hinata feels light as a feather, floating as he did until touching the ground.

“Next time you come, I’ll show you more of the forest, okay? There’s even a river with a spirit in it, too!”

“Really…?”

“Yeah! She’s really nice, and kinda young...she formed from melting snow from the mountain when it took a new path, so...it formed a new river! And every river needs a spirit. And you can meet my brother, too! And maybe my cousins - I have lots!”

Brightening, Hinata gives a smile. “I...I would like that!”

The pair make their way back to the entrance of the path, overlooking the field as afternoon starts to fade into evening. “Well...here we are.”

“Thank you for t-taking me back.”

Sasuke nods...and then jolts with an idea. “Oh, wait!” Flaring a wing, he carefully plucks a feather. “Here...take this with you.”

Eyes wide, Hinata gently cradles it in her palm. “...but…?”

“If you let the wind take it, it’ll lead you back to the shrine, so I can find you again!”

Realizing what a gift this is, Hinata gives a little bow. “Thank you v-very much!”

“Sure! But you better get home, huh?”

“Yeah…”

“Can you...come back tomorrow?”

“Yeah, I can! But pretty soon, I’ll have school.”

“School…?”

“Where I go to learn things!”

“Oh…” Sasuke’s head tilts. “Strange…”

That earns a soft giggle. “G-goodbye, Sasuke-kun!”

“See you tomorrow!” The little tengu waves as she jogs back down the field toward the house. Then, with a whisper of feathers, he disappears.

.oOo.

Well, this is kinda random, but...I like it! I always like the idea of Japanese mythology being "real", so...hence doing so every so often with these prompts. This was based a LITTLE bit on My Neighbor Totoro! Only...I guess it's My Neighbor Sasuke, lol Anyway, I'm...very tired. Strange day, and it ended on a rather sour note, so...I'm gonna go try to sleep it off~ Thanks for reading!

#sasuhina #uchiha sasuke #hyūga hinata #pregnancy //#death //#river runs deep [ au ]#365daysofsasuhina

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ace-of-clovers · 5 years

Text

Team RNJR Finds The Barn Where Oscar Lives And Oz Freaks Out: A Fic

Credit to brieflydoods for coming up with the idea

And credit to my friend for helping me with dialogue (you saved me)

Warning: it's long

And has some slight Ozqrow implications

And just angst in general

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

It was early in the evening. The sun had fallen from its peak, casting its warm rays across the land. The sky was a gradient of blue and pink, with low-hanging clouds resting above the horizon. Distant snow-capped mountains were the only thing rising up from the flat plain besides the occasional oak tree.

Ruby, Nora, Jaune, and Ren ambled slowly along a dirt road, taking in the scenery. Ruby's arms were sore from carrying her unconscious uncle. Everyone's main concern was to find help for him. No one was sure if he was going to survive, after he was poisoned by one of Salem’s followers. Qrow grunting or mumbling in his sleep was the only thing that broke the silence as they walked.

Ruby was the most apprehensive. She treasured the bonds she had with her family. She, of all people, knew how it felt to have those bonds severed. But with everything else that she had been through, she didn't know if she could handle losing him. Then she brushed off the thought, remembering she had to stay hopeful and keep going. A Grimm attack was the last thing they needed right now.

Ruby's thoughts were interrupted when she noticed something in the distance. It was hard to tell exactly what it was, but it was definitely out of the ordinary. Suddenly she realized what the structure was. Nestled in a patch of land surrounded by a fence, with a dirt path leading up to it, was a small wooden barn. Her dull eyes widened as it came into view. She stopped dead in her tracks as she gasped. Everyone else looked up in surprise. She turned around and said excitedly, “There's a barn over there!”

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

Oscar was reading in his room. He always liked to read after he finished his work on the farm. Then, his aunt would call him down for dinner, likely accompanied by a sarcastic remark. That was the way things had always been. His life had always followed the same routine, and he liked it that way. Unfortunately, with a mysterious voice telling him it was his destiny to leave home, the status quo had been interrupted.

Oscar shuddered. It made him sick to think about the voice. He kept telling himself that it wasn't real, but lately he was having trouble believing himself. He didn't know what to think anymore.

As if on cue, the voice suddenly said, “Do you hear that?”

Oscar, confused, looked up from his book. He just heard the breeze from outside.

“No… What are you ta-”

But then he heard it. It was faint and slightly muffled, but it was there. A voice. It was high-pitched and strained. No… urgent was the right word. The voice was worried, calling out.

Suddenly, more voices joined in the chorus, deeper this time. He finally figured out what they were saying. They were repeating “Help!”

Oscar slapped his book down on the bed, pushed himself off of his bed, and threw open his door. He began to run.

“What are you doing?” asked the voice.

“I have to see what these people want.”

He threw open the barn door and light filled the dark room. He squinted, temporarily blinded, and put his hand over his eyes. Now he was able to see three figures coming down the dirt road. They varied in height and appearance, but they all looked to be huntsmen.

Suddenly a weird feeling overcame Oscar. The people in front of him were complete strangers. But for some reason, he felt like they were old friends. Like he knew them. But, of course, he didn't. Did he?

He noticed that one of the figures, a girl dressed in black, was carrying something behind her. She was holding two handles in both of her hands. This puzzled Oscar. What could she be carrying?

The group had noticed him approaching and began to speed up. He realized there was another figure behind the girl. They were both carrying something… a stretcher. Their cries for help suddenly made sense. Someone was dying.

As he got closer to them, he definitely felt like he recognized them. He pushed the feeling down. He was getting better at doing that.

“Oh gods.”

The voice’s words send a shiver through Oscar's body. It was monotone. He had no idea what had triggered it, but he was really worried now.

“Oh gods no.”

This time it choked on its own words. It sounded sadder.

“What?” whispered Oscar.

But then he turned back towards the people, and saw who was in the stretcher. He was older than the rest of the group, with dark gray hair that spiked backwards. He had pale skin and a tired face. He was wearing a gray suit with a wide collar, and a necklace with a cross hanging off of it. But his most prominent feature was the huge bandage wrapped around his stomach. It was stained purple.

“No... how did this happen?”

It sounded panicked now. The voice was freaking out. Even though Oscar had no idea what was happening, the voice made him concerned. But he had to ignore it if he was going to help these people.

As he approached them, one of the people, a tall blond-haired boy, said “Oh thank the gods! We finally found someone!”

The girl who was carrying the stretcher spoke. “Please! We need help! I don’t know who you are, but please! My uncle’s been poisoned, and-and-he might not make it and—”

She cut herself off, clearly trying to hold back tears. She took a breath and continued, calmer this time.

“Please. Do you have anything that could help?”

She smiled sadly. “We would really appreciate it.”

“Uh- yeah,” he replied, resisting the urge to yell ‘shut up’ at the voice. “Yeah, I think so. My aunt” - he pointed his thumb back at the barn - “might be able to help. C-come inside.”

He led them back towards the barn. But every step was an effort. It became increasingly harder to concentrate.

“I think she…”

The voice was practically screaming.

“I think…”

He felt sick.

“I…”

Oscar stopped walking. His hands closed into fists and he gritted his teeth together. He was shaking. His mind was a jumble, and not just because of the voice. Something was wrong.

And then something clicked, and the memories came flooding in.

Oscar saw all the times that he and the strangers had spent together.

He saw them training.

He saw them fighting against Grimm numerous times.

He saw them laughing and having fun.

But most importantly, he saw the man in the stretcher.

How the man had fought for his place in this world.

How he pledged loyalty to Oscar.

His struggles.

His victories.

His life.

Oscar was panting. He felt like he was being choked. These memories were choking him. He felt the weight of all the emotions they carried at once. He didn't know where they had come from. He didn't even know he had them. He was in shock, and it didn't help that everyone else was staring at him.

Then he gasped, looked up, and said, “Qrow.”

A silence followed. The strangers were even more confused than before. There was suspicion and concern in their eyes.

But Oscar just turned to them. Still shocked, he stared at the man in the stretcher. For a split second, he understood what was happening.

He looked up at the strangers. His eyes met with the silver ones of the girl, and once again, he was reminded of her name.

“R-Ruby!”

She raised an eyebrow, and after a pause, said, “...What?”

Oscar suddenly realized how weird he must sound. To confirm this, he looked at the rest of the stranger’s faces. He tried to think of a way to explain what he just experienced.

“I... know you…”

[the end]

#rwby #rwby fanfiction #rwby fic #ruby rose #lie ren #nora valkyrie #jaune arc #team rnjr #rnjr #ozpin #oscar pine #lucky posts

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cjworthington · 3 years

Text

The Spirit of Alola - Chapter 5

My Slimy New Friend

Slowly moving down the beach, I run my fingers along the rocky wall lining the stone-filled sand. As I amble carefully on, I call out a few times, trying hard to make myself heard over the din of waves on the shore. My hope is that someone will hear my periodic shout and head to my location to check out the noise.

I try to think about how wonderful this island is, with its exciting new sounds and exotic new smells. But, my mind would instead stress over the fact that I am alone, no one knows where I am, and, despite my assumptions, I could be completely lost and never know it.

I have a general idea of the direction I should be heading, but I have no way of knowing if the path I'm on will lead me to my neighbors home, where I can find help, or if I'll find an impassable section and have to turn back. I also run the risk of slipping into the sea, and I can't swim.

In truth, I can tread water, and when I know what direction to go, I'm decent at paddling forward. Due to my lack of sight, though, I run a high risk of drowning if I were to slip into the water. Since I cannot see the land, I would not know which way to travel towards. Even with my innate sense of direction, without solid ground beneath my feet, I wouldn't even be able to tell where I'm facing, especially in water as rough as the sea beside me is growing.

"Oh curses," I say aloud, my words muffled by the crashing waves, furthering my irritation. "Not only am I not fully certain of where I'm going, but I can't even hear my surroundings because of this noise."

I pause my walking and pull in a large deep breath, releasing it with a long push through my nose, hoping to calm the anxious storm brewing inside of me.

The air still smells fresh, but there's a slight chill coming off the windswept seas. The sun seems weaker, though it doesn't feel like it has gone down very far from the start of my trip. Usually, that means clouds are covering it. However, I notice an all too familiar, very slight scent coming off the water. It smells as though there may be rain soon.

I set my slow pace once more, determined to keep moving when I feel a rock fall to my feet, hitting the ground with a sand softened thump. Reaching down, I pick it up and roll it over in my left hand. It's rough and jagged, not something that would easily slip on its own.

Why did it fall? I ask myself. Another, larger stone falls onto my shoulder, further adding pain to the already throbbing injury.

Raising my head, I sense rather than feel more objects moving towards my face. I cover my head and wait for the rock slide to hit me, but it doesn't—just a light sprinkling of dirt, dust, and a few more minor rocks. Instead, I hear a muffled cry, though I don't recognize the voice over the sound of waves.

"Hello," I call, my head raised to the source. I hear no response, though the clattering of debris continues falling over me on the rocky floor. "Is somebody up there?" I call again.

I do not receive any voice in reply but rather a louder rattling of rocks and dust than a large, heavier thump in front of me.

"Nya-" a Delcatty calls by my feet.

"Wait, Hop, is that you?"

In response, she pushes her soft head into my leg and chirps happily.

"Hop, can you go get Sashi or Tinsel for me?" I ask. I feel her sit down next to my leg, nowhere near the response I was hoping for.

"How about my bag?" I say, a bit desperately this time. "Can you make it back home and grab my bag for me?"

"Nya?" she mewls back.

"Come on now; you're smarter than that, Hop. Go back home and get me help, please."

In response, she walks up to the wall and scrapes her claws against it.

"Yes," I say encouragingly, "climb the wall and get help."

She scratches a few more times then sits back down by my feet, a bit more heavily now.

"Oh," I sigh, finally understanding. "You can't. That wall must be pretty steep and tall if you can't get up there."

It's a wonder I didn't come out with more severe injuries. I think to myself.

To no one in particular, I speak aloud once more. "I sure wish Rebel or Boreas were here. They'd be able to get us out of this mess." I say, thinking about my bag with all my Pokèballs in it, still sitting by my wife and guide Pokémon. "I really should know better by now than to leave the house without help."

"Even my cane would have been useful," I comment, recalling how this all started when my foot missed the ground. "If I'd been using that dark thing, I would have noticed the drop in earth and maybe even felt the broken fence." I shake my head despondently.

Hop stands and rubs her body against my leg, wrapping her tail around my knees and softly mewling, seeming to try to cheer me up.

"You're right, Hop," I say, giving her head a gentle scratch with my left hand. "Well, we can't keep standing about like Dunsparce on a rock. If help can't find us, we'll find help instead!" I force optimism into my voice.

I place my fingers back onto the rock wall and shuffle my bare feet through the sand. The wind begins to gust cold and hard but dies down just as quickly. I can feel the spray of saltwater more and more as I continue to push ahead. It won't take long for me to get soaked if this continues. The sea must be drawing closer to the wall. That worries me a bit.

Unfortunately, I don't know anything about this area, so I have no way of knowing if it's high tide, a smaller amount of beach, or if the water is pushed so far against the sand because of the wind.

"Hey Hop, can you see anyone's house," I ask. No response. "Hop!" I call again.

This time I hear her mewl loudly, sounding aggravated. Worried she might be in trouble, I stumble forward towards her cry, away from the abysmal comfort of the wall.

"Kyu kyu," I hear the yell of an unfamiliar Pokèmon. It sounds small and low on the ground.

I click my tongue and reach into my pocket for my stash of treats, hoping that whatever it is, my offering will keep it from wanting to attack. Then, pulling one out, I crouch down next to the source of the sound.

Hop comes up beside me and lets out a low hiss, followed by a small, defiant spit. She sounds more irritated than protective. I allow my fear to slip away with a push of breath through my nose.

"Hush you," I gently chide at the Delcatty. "You know better than to go fussing with other Pokèmon." I feel her tail slap me irritably in the back. "Stop that, Hop," I say mildly. "That hurts." The heat from her warm body leaves my side once more as she patters away, snorting in annoyance at being chastised.

I reach down again to where I heard the small Pokèmon's sound and tap my finger on the ground. I don't feel anything but sand, so I tap a few more times in a couple of different places. My last tap gets me a result.

I feel a slimy spiky creature below my hand.

"Pyu pyu," it says, wriggling in surprise at the touch.

"Hey, little guy, what are you doing out here?" I coo softly. "Do you have any friends nearby?"

Listening carefully to my surroundings, I don't notice the sound of any more creatures, though the noise of the rising tides would be drowning out the small voices anyways.

"Pyu kyu," it repeats.

"See here, little bud, I have a treat if you want." I hold the pellet on the tips of my fingers and press it closer to where I hear the sound of its voice coming from. I feel a tiny form shuffle over to it, poke it a couple of times with a spiky little tongue, and then I feel the familiar touch of a piece of the treat leaving my hand.

The mysterious little Pokémon chews noisily on the treat, chirping happily as it takes more bites from my offering. I reach out and stroke my hand along its spines. It stiffens under my touch until I reach behind the spine closest to my feeding hand and give, what I assume, must be the head, a rub. This causes the tiny creature to stop chewing and push back against my hand at what I can only believe is pleasure.

Once the treat is gone, I plop another down by its face and stand back up to leave. My small new friend crawls onto my toes, treat in mouth, and returns to eating.

"Hey, little guy, I've got to get moving." I scold gently. I carefully remove my foot from underneath it and reach for the wall again but feel the slimy thing crawl onto my toes once more.

"Kyu kyu pyu," It protests back at me.

I stand for a moment and consider my strange situation.

"How about you come with me," I say, locating the spot that got the original happy response and giving it another scratch.

"Kyu." It purrs back.

I crouch down and pick my slimy new friend up. It's not very heavy, about the size of a book, and feels almost like a smooth, wet coral, but for the spikes lining its top. Then, reaching my hand back out towards the wall, I scoot back up the coast and place my sore fingers on the rocks once more.

"Hop," I call. "Come on, girl. We need to get moving."

I hear her feet patter up to and then past me, heading in the direction we need to go.

"Huh," I say to the creature in my hand. "I have two Pokémon with me now, and neither of you is able to help. Hop has no attention span, and you, my friend, are rather small."

"Pyu pyu," It says back. I guess the meaning of this response and grab another treat from my pocket. It settles down into the crook of my arm and starts to munch away happily, unconcerned by my situation.

"Guess we should be off then." I sigh, happy for the company but worry still twisting into a knot in my stomach.

#pokemon #fanfiction #story #pokemonfanfiction #pokemonstory #alola

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belladonnaandulriched · 3 years

Text

the artist | chapter twenty-four

I kept the drawing to myself for about a week. Joey was the only one who knew about it, but I swore to him that I would never share it with either Lars or Chris or even my parents. He was the first person I had told about it after all; he vowed to be by my side, even if he couldn't actually physically be there by my side. He and I had a video chat every night for about a week, until Lars called me and invited me back to the speakeasy for something.

“Yeah, 'cept he won't tell me what it's all about, though,” Joey told me one evening: he had just climbed out of the shower so his black curls glistened in the blue light of the computer. It also looked as though he wasn't wearing a shirt, either, so his hair sprawled down his chest like the rich mane of a dark lion.

“You just want me to come back up there,” I teased him.

“Well—if it's not too inconvenient,” he said with a shrug of the shoulders. I chuckled at him.

“Yeah, you just wanna see me again.”

“Well—I gotta confess to ya, Hahlls: I miss havin' you up here.”

“It's only been a week, though,” I pointed out.

“A week can make the difference, though. The first time I was away from my parents for a week I started missin' 'em after a couple of days.”

He tucked an inky black curl behind his ear and showed me a lopsided little smile.

“So when's he coming down to get me?” I asked him.

“I think Dave an' Stone are comin' to get ya. I think. I gotta ask him first.”

“I'll be lookin' for them, then!” I was about to take out my earbuds when he stopped me.

“Oh, an' by the way—Hahlly?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you.”

“For?”

“Everything. Being you, cuddlin' with me, bein' a friend to me—y'know. All the things that warrant a thank you.” He flashed me a wink and kept the lopsided smile intact even as we both signed off in unison.

I woke up the next day to a clear crisp morning and the aroma of fresh coffee. All my conversations with Joey had given me some peace of mind but I was still in need of something more. Some sort of relaxation method. I hoped that, whatever Lars had in store for me, I could take the chance and reconcile with myself in the meantime.

Indeed, it was Lars himself who picked me up at about a quarter to eleven and gave me a little thing of donuts in the meantime, even though I assured him I had already breakfast.

“So what'd you wanna do with me?” I asked him. “Especially since I thought Dave and Stone were coming to get me.”

“You shall see,” he assured me with a wink; even underneath his mask, I could make out the sight of his smile. Lars drove me all the way down the spine of Washington: at one point, I spotted Mount Hood off in the distance, a large cold stone point against a flat plane and with nothing more than pure white glaciers and wispy clouds surrounding it.

We crossed the cold bluish gray Columbia River and the stateline into Oregon and the north side of Portland. I peered out the window to behold the sight of the rich green rolling forests as they stretched out towards the coast. Lars took the exit leading into the northwest side of the city: I made out the sight of the river as it wound its way through the heart of downtown. We reached the first stoplight and I spotted a lush green garden at the end of the block.

“That's where I am taking you,” he informed me with a point of his finger from the rim of the steering wheel.

“That garden up there?”

“Yes.”

“What's in there?”

“You shall see.”

The light turned green and we rolled forward down the block. I wondered what was behind that fence as the morning sun dipped behind the wispy clouds as they wafted off of Mount Hood. Lars pulled up into the parking lot and swung a right so the passenger door faced the front gate. I recognized Dave's streaky blond hair as it cascaded out from underneath his ball cap. He grinned at us as we climbed out in unison.

“Hey, you two,” he greeted us.

“So what's going on here?” I asked him, and he gestured for me to follow him into the garden. I ambled up the sidewalk with my hands stuffed in my pockets.

“Where's Stone, by the way?” Lars joined in; I noticed he had taken off his mirrored sunglasses to speak to Dave with some courtesy.

“He's—over there somewhere.” Dave pointed to the stretch of chain link fence at the end of the parking lot: the links struggled to hold back bunches of oleander bushes and a couple of weeping willows. Lars nodded and put his sunglasses back on; meanwhile, I followed Dave into the gardens. It was a lush maze of thick dark green shrubs and rose bushes: I noticed some bits of neon embedded in the branches of all of the plants. Little glimmers of bright blue followed us all the way to a section of dark soil in the midst of everything.

Large white and pink lilies sprouted all around the spot: their bases glowed with bright yellow tendrils which seemed to pulsate, like they were experiencing a heartbeat. To the right stood a low heavy stone bench with a few gardening tools: a small handheld shovel, a handheld rake, and a broom made of what appeared to be sticks.

Dave gestured for me to kneel down on the ground with him. He had dug a small hole in the dark soil.

“In the heart of the pandemic,” he started, “I found more solace in this than anything. It especially helped me after Nirvana and I felt like I was in a fog. It helped me 'ground myself' so to speak. I needed some grounding before I went ahead and even considered doing music again.”

I knelt down before him. The soil was soft but not too plush from the previous watering.

“What's this?” I asked him, and he nodded to the bench. I peered underneath it to find a small ceramic flower pot containing some near black soil.

“That?” To which he nodded again. I reached for the pot and held it out before me.

“What's in here?”

“Sunflowers. Two of 'em. And they're special 'cause Stone and I named them 'Hollywood sunflowers' after you.”

I gasped at that.

“There's four in the main garden up the road—they're all blooming like crazy right now. And we called it the 'Hollywood sunflower' after you because you're such a bright and sunny character for us. Bright and sunny even in the midst of a returning pandemic. Bright and sunny even in the midst of cold, burgeoning darkness.”

I felt my face growing warm and a firm lump forming inside of my throat. He then lifted himself onto foot so as to reach for the handheld shovel on the bench. I set the pot down on the ground before me. I then noticed a couple of small black buds rising out of the top of the soil: the morning sun made them glow that faint neon color. Careful so as not to break the soil, he used the shovel to dig out the wad of soil and transplant it into the earth. I watched him with intent for a moment, and then he stopped.

“Go right ahead,” he beckoned me as he handed me the shovel. I swallowed and then I took it for myself. Using the edge of the shovel head, I spread the soil over the clump and then smoothed it out.

“Now, watch this.”

Dave stood to his feet again and ambled over to some of the lilies on the right. He picked up a watering can with a narrow spout and returned to the patch of soil with it in hand. He crouched down next to me, and tipped the can over the soil, and some bluish clear liquid flowed out. It might have just been dyed water, but when it hit the patch and darkened the soil even more, the neon glimmers flared up and the buds expanded. They took root in the earth and raised out into the open air at the same time.

They didn't flower, but they did grow about an inch off of the ground.

“That was just a little bit, too,” he told me as he set the watering can down on the ground in between us. “Thing with these ones is they grow quickly with this liquid. Stone came up with the formula and we were able to grow more of those sunflowers up in the main garden in a matter of days. They blossom and adapt quickly... kinda like you.”

“Wow,” I breathed.

“The neon inside of them holds onto the earth really well, too. We both noticed that so we were like 'yeah, let's come up with sump'n quickly because these things are growin' quickly.' This one right here is all yours, if you wish.”

“I do!” I turned to him and threw my arms around him, and he returned the favor. I guessed it wasn't all bad after all. I had to take a picture of it and share it with Chris and Joey, and my parents, too. They had to at least know that I had a flower named after me.

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lollercakesff · 6 years

Text

Time & Again 4

Magically also available here

——-

The Wheelers are hosting their annual Memorial Day barbeque and Hopper is chafing at the idea of going. He’s never had to attend before, having never really had an obligation to go anywhere until they invited El and he was expected to accompany her. The whole concept seemed ridiculous but Karen Wheeler was hellbent on making sure their family kept the parents friendly for their kids’ sakes.

God, he hated stuff like this.

“What do we do at this thing?” El asks from her place on the passenger side of the truck. Hopper shrugs and shifts in his seat.

“No idea, kid. This is my first time too,” he adds with a smirk. Maybe he’ll get lucky and it’ll be the only time he’s expected to go.

“Mike said it’s just a bunch of adults drinking and making stupid jokes,” she pauses and turns slightly to face him, a serious look on her face. “Do you know any jokes?”

“Yeah kid, I know some jokes. Don’t worry - I won’t embarrass you. Do we need a code word if you want to leave?” Though he knows she’ll likely not need it with Mike and the gang around, he also knows that social situations can be overwhelming for her and he wants her to know she always has an out if she needs it. That’s part of their deal now - trust and honesty with steadfast support.

And hell, maybe he’ll need to use the code word too.

“Pancake,” she insists after giving it some thought. His returning chuckle feels good as it breaks through some of his nerve.

“Got it. If you start talking about Eggos I won’t say a thing but one word about pancakes and we’re out of there.” They pull up to the curb across the street and stare at the house, their shared anxiousness creating a tight silence between them. “Are you ready for this?”

“Yes.” Her confidence blooms again, the momentary hesitation disappearing from her features as she steels herself.

They’ve barely exited the truck before Mike’s head is poking out the front door and waving her over. Hopper takes a more leisurely pace, following the sounds of people into the backyard where the parents are sipping drinks in their summer clothes. Karen greets him first, an overly loud gesture giving away her tipsy status as she plants kisses on both his cheeks.

“I’m so glad you could make it!” She laughs, turning to where her husband stands at the grill. “Ted, get the Chief a beer!” Ted pretends not to hear them as his infamous obliviousness shines while he talks to the Sinclair’s.

“It’s alright Karen, I’ve got it,” Joyce breaks in, a beer already in hand for him.

“You are such a delight, Joyce, thank you! God, Ted, what are you even doing? The meat is burning!” Karen chastises as she turns away from them and back towards where Ted is currently not-manning the grill. Hopper tries to stifle a laugh but the smile breaks free uncontrollably and soon him and Joyce are laughing heartily at the familial conflict happening before them.

“So, you missed dinner again this week,” Joyce starts when the laughter dies down. He knew this was coming - it was part of the reason he’d almost stayed home - but he also knew he couldn’t avoid it anymore. He had missed dinner for the last few weeks and his excuses were getting lamer by the day.

“Yeah, sorry about that. Work stuff,” he adds while trying to lean casually against a fencepost. He can’t pull it off and has to recover quickly from almost falling on his ass.

“I don’t believe that, but okay,” she sighs and shakes her head, disappointment apparent in her tone.

He knows he shouldn’t lie to her - that she deserves more - but he also knows the truth would start something that he couldn’t quite see how it would play out. And in all honesty, he wasn’t willing to risk their friendship. It had been less than a year since Bob died and he didn’t want to be that guy to Joyce. He couldn’t let another slip like their evening on the couch happen again, at least not while the loss was still fresh. His own loss was old and scabbed, but he knew what it was like when it was fresh and didn’t want to push her into something they would regret.

So instead he fibbed. Sent El over for the dinners and then went and hid out at the station. Pretended to have paperwork to do but in reality took a nap in his desk chair.

It was pathetic. But it had to happen.

“Can I count on you to host it this coming week? I’m covering a shift for Marg at the store and I don’t want to break the habit for the boys if I can help it,” she prompts, somehow successfully finding a way to lean against the fence and look good doing it. Taking a sip of his beer, he nods and makes a mental note to remember as Claudia Henderson pulls Joyce into a conversation.

Later, a beer or two in, he ambles himself over to a blanket under a tree and sits down to eat his meal in peace. He’s mid-way through his burger when Joyce flops down next to him, a red plastic cup in hand with its contents nearly sloshing over the edge.

“Why are you ignoring me?” She hisses under her breath, barely audible to him between chews. He sets his plate down on the blanket and looks her over.

“How much have you had to drink Joyce?” He asks as he takes her cup from her loose grip. A quick sniff tells him all he needs to know - vodka and Kool-Aid, her kryptonite.

“Don’t avoid the question, Hop! I’m sober enough to know when you’re being evasive,” she adds and shifts until her back is against the tree and her head has rolled to face him.

“I’m not avoiding you, I promise.” He tries but there’s no derailing her now.

“You are though. I know you’re not busy at the station - Flo told me you go there and sleep. I thought we were doing okay. I mean, I thought -” Shaking her head, she takes her cup back and downs the rest of her drink. He’s too slow to react when she sets the cup down and moves to her knees, her hands finding his shirt and pulling him in for a kiss that had he blinked he would have missed it. “I thought that was where we were going. But I guess I was just wrong!” She smiles sadly after pulling away and then gets to her feet, brushing off her pants before calling for Jonathan and Will.

He sits there frozen as Joyce walks purposefully towards the house while her sons poke their heads out the door to see what’s going on. After a hushed discussion the boys join her as they say goodbye and head for the driveway.

Stunned, Hopper sits there watching as Joyce disappears around the side of the house. The memory of a time just like this, one from when they were teenagers, comes rushing back to him and knocks the air from his chest.

He remembers it so clearly now - how Joyce had been sitting in the front seat of his car, her lips pressed to his hand because she wouldn’t dare try to kiss him after spending the morning being sick. How she’d tried to tell him how she felt but he’d brushed it off, blaming it on the hangover when it was his unwillingness to start something with Vietnam hanging so closely over his head.

Hopper couldn’t let her walk away again, not after everything they’d been through.

Quickly getting to his feet, he abandoned his lunch on the blanket and jogged out of the yard and onto the street where Jonathan was trying to get the keys from Joyce.

“Come on Mom, you know you can’t drive,” Jonathan soothes, hand held tightly over hers.

“I’m fine,” she groans and shakes her head, stumbling. Hopper watches for a moment before stepping towards them with his hands on his hips.

“Joyce,” he calls lowly, eyes squinting in the light of the afternoon. He watches as her shoulders drop, Jonathan finally able to secure the keys from her grip. “Can we talk?”

“I’ll just wait in the car,” Jonathan adds, looking between the two with a small smile.

“Look, Joyce,” Hopper tries to keep his voice quiet to keep any semblance of privacy that he can. Without a doubt the situation was likely causing some minor embarrassment for them both and he didn’t want to enflame that. “I didn’t - “

“You know Hop, I shouldn’t have done that,” she interrupts, rounding on him and stepping quickly until she’s at his feet with her finger pointed at his chest. He’s seen Joyce angry before, has seen her fight for everything with a fierceness he couldn’t match, but he’s never seen her like this and he’s taken aback. “I got carried away. But you know what, I’m tired of being a bookend for people. I don’t need it from you! Bob never treated me like I was a placeholder and that’s why I liked him. But dammit, he’s gone and I thought we had another chance but now you’re screwing it up again and I won’t - “

He doesn’t know what causes him to do it, his mind clearly losing touch with reality, but his hands bracket her face and before he realizes he’s pulling her in for a proper kiss that’s nothing like the fleeting blink of a kiss she cornered him with before. When he finally pulls back her face is unreadable and for a second he’s convinced he’s made the wrong move.

But then she’s kissing him. Her hands find purchase in his button-up shirt as she pulls him to her, pressing together in the summer heat.

“What the hell?” Dustin barks from somewhere in the distance, the awareness of the location coming back to Hopper in a rush. The potential vulnerability of their situation blooms inside him, thoughts for what El will think starting to creep in. But still he holds Joyce’s chin in his palms, their foreheads touching as their eyes meet.

“I didn’t realize I wasn’t the only one, I’m sorry,” Hopper whispers as his thumb brushes her cheek softly. “I wanted to give you space. I didn’t want this to be a fling because I couldn’t stand it if I lost you after everything we’ve been through. I want more but I’m willing to wait. I’m a patient man, Joyce, but I want you to be sure,” he adds, pulling back and looking to where Jonathan is grinning broadly from his place in the driver’s seat. Behind him, Will has his face pressed to the window with his mouth open in surprise.

When he looks back at Joyce, she’s standing with her arms across her chest, one hand running a finger across her lips as she stares towards the backyard where the barbeque continues on.

“Okay,” she nods, breaking the silence. Hopper frowns, suddenly unsure of everything as he watches her closely. Her posture becomes determined as her gaze slides up to meet his. “I’ll call you, Hop. I need to think.”

He takes her words in like a punch to the chest, the breath leaving his lungs as she walks carefully back to the car. When she looks back, her smile washes over him and reminds him how much of a goner he is. He’s patient, but he’s also fucking terrified.

#jopper #stranger things fanfic #joyce x hopper #hopper x joyce #time and again

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yovngho · 7 years

Note

johnny + 3 please?

“You came back.” send a number + member for a drabble ☼

this one is an au. I hope this is okay but if you dont like it feel free to request again! mentions of blood + death

also this is so long its a damn scenario im sorry dfgddhdhg

You knew there was no stopping him. You didn’t try and you didn’t want to either. This had been his dream for so long it would have been selfish of you to hold him back. “When I come back,” he told you one night, “I’ll take you to see the world. We can rest on the beaches and walk through the most beautiful meadows we hear about in songs and stories.” His eyes would light up talking about the adventures the two of you would have outside of the kingdom. He pulled you closer to his side, rough tunic scratching your face gently as a reminder that he was still there with you.

The day he left for battle, you had helped him dress in his armour. You had your own post to attend in the late morning which would allow you enough time to watch him and the other officers leave. He held you so close the metal detailings on his chest plate pushed into you uncomfortably, but you couldn’t find yourself to care. Youngho pulled away, eyes full of tears and hope. “I’ll be back in a month or two don’t you worry.” His hands found your face, taking the time to memorise every feature of your face. “I love you.” He reminded you.

“I love you too.” You told him, wiping the tears from his cheeks. “You make sure you bring yourself home. I’ll be waiting for you.” Your lips met again, desperate to savour the last few moments you may ever have together. You tried to act like this might not be the last time you see him. Like he wasn’t going into battle against one of the strongest forces on land. “Do you still have my token?”

He huffed out a laugh at that. “As If I’d ever let it off my person.” His fingers reached into his chest piece to reveal a scrap of dark fabric. It had once been part of your tunic but ripped off the night you first declared your love for one another. A token to remind him you’re always in his heart. You’d been so desperate to prove to him you’d ripped the material right off your sleeve. It perhaps wasn’t the most elegant option, but it brought a blinding smile to his face. Your body melded into his that night, solidifying the bond already formed between you two. “I keep it with me always.”

He stuffed it back into its holding as a horn echoed through the courtyard. It tugged at your heart and you knew that was it. You walked with him to his horse, putting on a brave face for him because you knew he couldn’t cry then. He kissed you again, languid as he could be in the time frame given, savouring your taste. “Stay safe, my love.”

You scoffed at him, “Shouldn’t I be saying that to you?” He mounted his horse with grace before sending a smile your way.

“You have many times, my dear.” Horses started to amble in the direction of battle and you both knew had to join them. “I love you.” He said again, grasping your hand tightly. “But don’t worry, two months will fly by and you’ll be sick of my face again in no time.”

He’s declared dead a month later. A raven made it’s way back to the keep stating their army was slaughtered by the enemy. Fewer than thirty men of the five hundred sent survived to their knowledge and had begun their journey back south as they sent word. Everyone one else was declared missing, which was the word they used to ease grieving widows. Two of the soldiers who had returned from the battle were recounting the massacre that happened. Partners and children howled and screamed in heartbreak and loss for parents, spouses and lovers. You stayed still. Lower jaw shaking. Vision blurred with tears. You don’t move to wipe them. You just stand there, listening to the chaos around you and all you can picture is his smile. You picture his smile vanishing as a sword pushes into his stomach, taking the light from his eyes as blood starts to- You stop yourself. It’s not worth thinking about.

It’s foolish, but you even months later you can’t accept the reality. You half expect him to surprise you at the mill or, maybe you’ll wake up with him beside you again. You push yourself out of bed, wiping the wetness from your face and know you have to start moving forward. The road to acceptance will be a slow and painful one, you know this. But you also know Youngho will always stay in your heart no matter what.

It’s been six months since he left. You’re spending the day revisiting important places to you and Youngho. The market stall where you met, the stables where you’d meet at night, the lake where you’d frequently picnic. You’re at the pasture where you’d spent countless nights together looking up at the stars in each other’s arms. He was such a romantic, you remember fondly. The horses are grazing so you lean on the fence so as not to disturb them when the two children from the farmhouse come careening into view hollering loudly to their parents.

“Quickly mum, Renjun might be with them!” You hear the youngest boy call. You knew Renjun vaguely. He was one of the youngest of the troops Youngho was deployed with. Wait… “C’mon! Let’s go greet them!” The two kids run ahead of their parents who walk cautiously behind and you decide to follow them to see what was happening. You want to ignore the tightness in your chest hoping to see your Youngho again, but in the back of your mind you can’t help but think what if.

The gates to the city are open wide, those who were tending to their shops have stepped out to investigate and a crowd forms around the courtyard. You hear a trumpet sound and they start filing through the gates. Almost a hundred soldiers stumble through, welcomed home by the thunderous applause and cheers from the crowd. You stay off to the side, scanning the soldiers for any familiar faces. Several men were limping, being supported, or carried by their peers. A female officer burst forward from the crowd, beelining to her family to find herself enveloped in hugs. You watch the encounter with a soft smile on your face. Today was a day to celebrate. When you turn back, the gate has closed and for the briefest moment, you think you see him holding up a friend but then the crowd is clustering around the soldiers making their way to the infirmary and he’s gone again.

You slap yourself gently to calm yourself down and decide to head to the stall earlier than expected. You worked at the food stall in the main market (which is where you had first met Youngho) with Joohyun. As you turn the corner, you see her chatting happily with a customer, their back facing you. You sigh, mentally preparing yourself to deal with people in your less than stable state. Joohyun breaks into a smile seeing you approach and the customer follows her gaze to see what she’s looking at.

You stop as your eyes meet his and you feel like the whole world is freezing and collapsing around you. There’s blood and dirt caking his face. His hair sticks to his scalp and forehead. There are bags under his eyes peeking through the grime coating his face, but his dazzling smile cuts through it all. You don’t realise you’re sobbing until he scoops you in his arms, fingers wiping away at your tears. Shaking your head in disbelief you reach up to trace the contours of his face carefully. “This isn’t real.” You tell yourself. You’ve really lost it now, imagining he’s in front of you.

“I’m here. I’m real.” He tells you, brow furrowed unsure how to comfort you. Youngho rests his forehead against yours before taking your hand. He places it over his heart. “See, I’m here.”

His heart beat hits where your hand rests on his chest and you look up into his eyes as acceptance overwhelms you. “You came back.” It’s not a question. A statement because he’s alive and he’s with you again and all the sadness that possessed you for six months disappears to the back of your mind.

He kisses you, desperate and needy like a man drowning. “I came back.”

#if anyones wondering why i take so long to write drabbles its because they turn into full scenarios #johnny scenario #nct scenario #youngho scenario #nct drabbles #nct #johnny #drabbles #angst

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lousylark · 7 years

Text

blue lace

Part 1.5 out of approximately 16. Read part 1 here. Klaus X Minori, Story of Seasons. Please like, reblog, or leave a comment if you like it. Enjoy!

Winter 31st. Oak Tree Town Square. 6:50 PM.

Elise stood at the very edge of the festival grounds. She was cold, but she needed to be able to see everything that was going on — and one thing in particular.

“Someone’s tense.”

The voice made her jump. She looked and saw that Nadi had somehow snuck up on her. Her mouth curled into a scowl.

“I am not tense,” she grumbled. “I just do not like people.”

He smirked and leaned against the small fence behind them. “Well, we already knew that.”

“Yes, thank you, Nadi, for another excellent display of your stunning observational skills. Now leave me alone.”

As per her wishes, he fell silent, and Elise returned to her people-watching. Or, rather, her important-people-watching.

A little ways across the square, Minori, her rival, stood in a small circle with Jenkins, Pierce, and Holland. Minori looked awkward standing there, like she didn’t know what she was doing. And, if Elise was right — and she almost always was about these things — she probably didn’t know what she was doing. After all, Minori had probably never been interviewed like this in her life.

Her frown deepened. After Veronica had explained the New Leaf Competition to her, she hadn’t managed to get very far with the FAS board before they had been surrounded by adoring fans and curious spectators. Even before the crowd had arrived, they had been all aflutter about finding Minori.

“Nadi,” she said, cutting off her own rambling thoughts, “is there something terribly more appealing about Minori than there is about me?”

He looked at her strangely for a moment. “What do you mean by that?”

She tugged her coat tighter around her body. Her silly, childish dress may have been made of silk worm’s thread, but it did nothing to keep her warm.

“I simply mean,” she said, “that if you were interviewing for a job, what would make you pick her over me?”

He let out a breath, obviously relieved. Then, crossing his arms over his chest, he replied, “Well, there are a couple of things.”

She raised an eyebrow. “A couple of things?”

“Yeah. First of all, she’s way more genuine than you are. She’s also nicer. Then there’s the fact that she does all of her work herself, she doesn’t just make other people do it. She has a sense of humor, that’s another good one. She doesn’t use sarcasm negatively like you do, she doesn’t —“

“Very well, that’s enough.” Elise glared at him. “I understand. She is the girl next door. I am the spoiled brat of a rich politician.”

He shrugged. “I mean, at least you acknowledge it.”

She looked at the sky. It was starting to get dark. “I may not be the girl next door, but I am self-aware.”

“Yeah, well, Minori’s both.”

She barely resisted the urge to whack him with her purse.

Somewhere nearby, a man let out a hearty laugh. The festival attendees seemed to be having a good time, though Elise thought the party was too full. It was almost seven and there were still people flowing in through the gate, either for noodles or fireworks or just friendly conversation. She had seen several babies — really, who thought to bring infants in this weather? — and many young children. Veronica wouldn’t be disappointed with the turnout.

“So, why are the FAS board members here?” Nadi, too, was watching the crowd, but the question was directed at her.

Her frown reappeared. “To select an agricultural representative for the New Leaf Competition.”

“Yeah, that’s what everyone keeps saying. But what does that mean?”

She could, of course, reveal everything Veronica had told her to Nadi. Nadi was a simple landscaper. If it had been any other servant, she would have kept her mouth shut without a second thought. Most of her servants, even her best ones, were squirrelly and liked to talk. She knew from experience that there was nothing worse than a household with a gossip network instead of hard-working servants.

But she knew Nadi was more reserved, and more calculating, than most of her servants. Even if he was irritable, he was terribly intelligent for a field worker. Perhaps, in this instance, it would do her some good to work through her news with a trusted confidante — though, she used the term loosely.

She relented with a heavy sigh. “This year, the FAS board has decided to put together a competition for the small farming communities that surround Norchester. The whole premise is to honor a farming community that has ‘turned a New Leaf’ in terms of their economic and social prosperity, so to speak.”

“Okay, cute. So what else?”

“I was getting to that,” she said through gritted teeth. “Each town involved has a business mentor and three representatives — the agricultural rep, the publicity rep, and the mayoral rep. The mayoral rep is, obviously, the mayor —“

“So Veronica.”

Elise nodded. “Yes, it will be Veronica. But the business mentor, publicity rep, and agricultural rep are both chosen by the FAS board. They already chose Kassie Kline from The Norchester Report to be our publicity rep, so now they just have to choose an agricultural representative and a business mentor. The business mentor will be from out-of-town because we don’t have anyone qualified. But the agricultural representative must come from Oak Tree Town.”

“Well who’s to say they won’t choose Giorgio, or even Fritz?” Nadi asked.

“The agricultural rep has to be only a farmer,” she explained. “So Giorgio isn’t in the running because he’s also a model and a part-time journalist. As for Fritz…” she trailed off, and looked at Nadi with one eyebrow raised.

He smirked. “Yeah, okay. You’re right. So it’s between you and Minori?”

“Correct.” Her fingernails dug into the fur of her coat. “The agricultural representative is supposed to be the farmer who has made the greatest impact on the town.”

Nadi looked straight at her. “Well that’s Minori, hands-down. Elise, you just don’t —“

“I know what you’re going to say,” Elise interrupted, “and yes, it is true. Minori has worked harder for the town itself; she is more friendly with the citizens and she even landscapes as a hobby. She also cares for this town with all of her being, which I find perplexing but have given up trying to understand.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “But you are ignoring an important factor: I bring more annual revenue to this town. My farm is bigger and better. Hers is impressive, of course, especially for someone with her small background. Mathematically, however, my farm does more good for the town, and that’s an equally important factor as being the ‘girl next door’ to the FAS board.”

“Well, that may be true,” Nadi said, “but what’s the big deal, anyway? What makes this a competition?”

“The competition culminates in a festival, like this one,” she explained, “but bigger. Much, much bigger. The FAS is calling it a Revitalization Festival, and it’s supposed to showcase both the town’s culture as well as the impact of farming on that town. The criteria for the festival are incredibly broad, but the winning town is chosen on a combination of ticket sales and three secret critics’ reviews. Each festival has to take place in the first week of Fall this upcoming year.”

Nadi shook his head. “That’s so little time for something so huge. Is there any reward?”

Elise nodded. “A million dollar grant to the town, and five hundred thousand to each individual representative.”

He let out a long, low whistle. “High stakes.”

She sighed. Her gaze had drifted back to where Minori stood with the FAS members.

“High stakes, indeed.”

Winter 31st. Oak Tree Town Square. 7:00 PM.

By the time Klaus, Marian, and Del Cossa arrived in Oak Tree Town, the festival was well underway. But thankfully, Raeger had yet to start dishing out the noodles, so not all hope was lost.

Klaus and Marian walked side by side into town, with Del Cossa ambling slightly behind at a gentler pace. Klaus hadn’t before realized how old Del Cossa was. He looked much younger when he was made up to judge the fashion shows. Klaus wondered how he and Marian became friends when such an age difference existed — not that he was judging. After all, he himself was several years older than Raeger, who was arguably his best male friend after Marian.

Immediately upon entering the Trade Depot, Klaus was struck by just how many people were crowded into the square. He had expected Oak Tree Town to be much more peaceful than the city. Instead, it was like someone had taken every occupant of Norchester’s central park and shoved them in the festival grounds.

Marian gasped. “My goodness, I haven’t seen so many people here in…well, ever.”

“I haven’t either,” Klaus said. “Why are there so many?”

“Veronica opened up this festival to the public,” Marian explained. “You know, to further the town’s shining reputation. I knew there would be more people than usual, but this is incredible.” He looked around at the trade depot again, smiling widely. “Veronica must be elated.”

Del Cossa caught up to them and let out a hefty sigh. “Yes, this is quite remarkable, though I could very much use somewhere to sit down.”

Marian laughed. “Yes, I thought you might say that, Del.” He wrapped an arm around Del Cossa’s shoulders. “Klaus, would you like to find somewhere to sit with us?”

Klaus was half-tempted to say yes. It had been a long day, so he wasn’t too keen on the idea of trying to navigate through this giant crowd. But he hadn’t seen his other acquaintances and friends in quite some time due to the perfume convention. He wanted to catch up with Raeger, and perhaps Iris, before Marian suckered him into too many drinks.

“I’ll pass for now,” he said. He straightened the scarf around his neck. It seemed even colder in Oak Tree Town than it had been in Norchester. “I’d like to find Raeger, and maybe Iris, and say hello.”

“And Minori?” Marian asked. Mischief sparkled in his eyes.

Klaus shrugged. He was too used to Marian’s teasing to take the bait. “Perhaps.”

“Well, suit yourself. Del and I will go paint the fairgrounds red!”

Del Cossa straightened his glasses, a faint, youthful smile gracing his otherwise elderly features. “Something like that.”

“We’ll catch up with you later!” Marian called, and then he and Del Cossa disappeared into the crowd.

Klaus took a deep breath. People flooded the Depot, but he hadn’t felt this alone in days. He wanted to enjoy the moment while it lasted.

He was in no rush. He skirted the outside of the crowd for a while, passing clumps of people deep in conversations. To his right was Maurice’s daughter, Melanie, chattering excitedly with Lutz.

Not too far from them stood Elise. She was leaning against the outer fence, a dour expression painted on her pale skin. They made brief eye contact. She managed a polite nod, which surprised him. They hadn’t spoken more than a few words to each other since she arrived several years ago, though Klaus knew her father well. He and Mr. Buchanan had a complicated relationship; one that Elise probably wasn’t even aware of. That was part of the reason that Klaus tried to keep his distance from her.

“Klaus!”

He recognized that voice.

Iris stood to his left, closer to the crowd. Some of her girlfriends surrounded her. They bubbled with laughter and merriment. He didn’t have a particular interest in interrupting them — not because any of the girls were unfavorable company, but because he could never think of much to say to women other than Iris.

Iris must have realized that he didn’t feel much like talking to her friends, because she quickly excused herself from the group and started making her way toward him.

They exchanged a quick hug. “How was the convention?” she asked. “It’s so good to see you again!”

“The convention was exceptional,” he replied. “A little unorganized at times, but there were some very prestigious perfume connoisseurs there.”

She lowered her voice slightly. “Did you find what you were looking for?”

He patted his breast pocket absentmindedly. “I did, as a matter of fact.” After running a hand through his hair, he asked, “How was your holiday? Get much writing done?”

She nodded. “I finished that chapter I was stuck on. You remember, with the girl and the rotting apple?”

“Ah, and the worms?”

She smiled. “Yes, and the worms.”

“How could one forget such a chapter, Iris?” he teased.

In the distance, he could see that Licorice was watching them closely. She wasn’t suspicious, she was simply curious. Licorice had been in town little more than a season. He wondered if she was aware that he and Iris were not, in fact, a couple.

Many years ago, they actually had attempted a relationship. It had lasted only one regrettably awkward season, and had been filled with only surface-level conversations and formal dates — none of the casual, coquettish spontaneity that he had known once in his youth. Both had agreed that the relationship wasn’t going anywhere, and they had parted ways as close friends.

Many of the townspeople, however, weren’t convinced that they wouldn’t someday be married. Klaus was firmly against the idea. In fact, he was rather firmly against the idea of any sort of romantic relationship, at least at this point. He carried too much baggage.

Perhaps — perhaps, if he dared hope, he could change that with his findings from the convention. Perhaps he could finally move on. But it was a long shot, and he was too old to dream of finding happiness in love, anyway.

Iris followed his gaze to see Licorice. She gave her friend a small smile, but didn’t acknowledge her staring. Instead, she turned back to Klaus and asked, “Did Marian drive you here?”

He nodded. “Yes. We brought Del Cossa from the train station, as well. Apparently he’s just returned from a trip in Europe.”

“Del Cossa the fashion designer?” she asked. “I wasn’t aware he and Marian were close. Though Angela did say Marian was going to pick up a friend from the train station.”

“Yes, well, he ended up picking up two,” Klaus explained.

Iris folded her arms over her chest, a coy smile donning her expression. “That’s right! I seem to recall you saying that you weren’t coming home from the convention until after New Year’s Eve.”

Her eyes sparkled in a way that told him she knew more than she was letting on. Though he and Iris had been a dysfunctional couple at best, she had always been very good at seeing through his words to his heart. Though he would deny it out loud, he always wondered if it was one of the reasons he had been okay with breaking things off. Her unnerving ability to see through his facades made him feel uncomfortably vulnerable.

He smiled, giving into her game. “Ah yes, well. My sentimentality got the better of me, it seems.”

“Really?” She appeared genuinely surprised — and that didn’t shock him. It was one thing for her to notice his true feelings; it was another for him to admit to them. “Well, that’s nice, Klaus.”

He straightened his back in an attempt to feel more guarded again. “I suppose so.”

Both fell silent for a time. Klaus scanned the crowd. He still wanted to see Raeger, and perhaps he would check in with Otmar or Mistel before returning to Marian.

“Have you seen Raeger?” he asked. “This crowd is so thick I fear I won’t find him by myself.”

“I’m not too sure where he is, but I know he’s here,” Iris replied. “His catering company cancelled on him, so he’s probably still setting up right now.”

Klaus raised an eyebrow. “Really? How unprofessional.” He looked across the square. Usually Raeger’s setup was stationed at the north end. “Maybe I’ll go help him set up, then.”

“Well, good luck finding him.” She pushed a long piece of hair away from her eyes. “I’ll go back to my girls, then. I’m glad you’ve come home!”

He raised a hand in farewell. “I’m glad, too. Happy New Years!”

“Happy New Years to you, too!”

Iris gave him one final squeeze on the shoulder and then turned away and started back toward her friends. Klaus watched her go for a moment, then returned to searching the crowd. He had come in through the east end of the Trade Depot, so Raeger would likely be somewhere to his right.

“Well, here we go,” he mumbled to himself. He straightened his jacket and started at a quick pace into the crowd.

As a perfume maker, he had a very trained sense of smell. Tonight, with all of these people, he was slightly overwhelmed by all of the scents. Everywhere he turned there was something new: a woman heavily doused with lavender; an old man who smelled — rather unfortunately — of mold; a young girl who cried loudly but smelled like chocolate chip cookies.

He was so distracted by all of the smells that he didn’t see the person moving toward him until they smacked straight into his elbow.

“Oh, goodness gracious,” he murmured. Then, louder, he asked, “Are you alright, miss?”

The girl didn’t respond. Instead she seemed to wobble on her feet a bit before finally raising her head to look up at him.

Minori’s eyes didn’t quite focus on him. She seemed not really to be focusing on anything, but she had raised a mittened hand to cover her nose, which appeared to be where he had hit her with his elbow.

“Klaus?” Her voice, though muffled because of the mitten, held obvious traces of confusion. “I thought you were in Redford for a perfume convention?”

He shifted his feet, still staring at her nose. “Er, yes, I was. But now I’m here.”

“Oh!” She took the hand away from her face. “You must be who Marian picked up at the train station!”

“Yes, but — oh, Minori, your nose is bleeding.”

Her eyebrows shot up. “Oh, goddess. It is?”

Part of him wanted to laugh, but another part of him felt terrible for causing her pain. Already, there was blood dripping down her nose and onto her lips.

“Yes, and fairly badly,” he said. “We should go find Marian. I’m sure he’ll have something to help. I have a handkerchief, if you’d like to use it.”

She snorted, and then winced — probably because doing so hurt her nose. Still, her tone was good-natured when she teased, “Of course you have a handkerchief. Classic ‘I’m-an-old-man’ Klaus.”

He put his hand on her shoulder, and together they navigated through the crowd. She refused his handkerchief at first, but once they saw her blood dripping down from her face onto the snow, she acquiesced.   “I have several more at home,” he said, hoping to comfort her. “You can keep that one.”

She smiled, though he noticed her eyes watering and felt another rush of pity.

He scanned the crowd for Marian, figuring that his pink hair wouldn’t he hard to find. Still, he imagined they wouldn’t have traveled far from the entrance of the Trade Depot, so they went in that direction.

He looked down at Minori, who was a good foot shorter than he was. Her hair was curlier than usual. Even with a nosebleed, he found her rather lovely. More often than not, that seemed to be the case — whether she was covered in dirt, sweat, or she was sunburned from a long day outside, she somehow always managed to look radiant.

He cleared his throat, grateful that Marian and Iris seemed to be the only ones who could read thoughts in Oak Tree Town.

He finally spotted the doctor sitting in one of the up lawn chairs around the edge of the square. Del Cossa sat to his right. A little table stood between the chairs with two glasses of wine sitting atop it.

Klaus waved them down. “Marian!”

Miraculously, his friend noticed him over the buzz of the crowd. Before Marian could say anything, Klaus called out, “Do you have a first aid kit with you?”

Moments later, Minori was sitting in one of the lawn chairs while Marian checked her nose. Del Cossa and Klaus both watched, though Klaus felt too restless to sit down.

Marian gave Minori a more absorbent material to hold up to her nose. “How did this happen, exactly?”

Minori blinked. “Well, I was —“

Marian brushed her lips with his forefinger. “No, no. Not you, honey. Let Klaus explain. You just relax.”

Klaus put his hands in his pockets and let out a breath. “I was trying to find Raeger and I just wasn’t paying much attention to my surroundings, I suppose. I remember I reached up to try and fix my hair, and then I felt something hit my elbow.”

Marian pursed his lips. “Way to go, Klaus.”

He scratched his neck sheepishly. “Sorry, Minori.”

Minori’s eyes were less watery now. She granted him a broad grin. “It’s fine. Kind of funny, honestly.”

Marian sighed and straightened up so that he wasn’t hunched over Minori. “Well, you’re lucky, Nori. Your nose isn’t broken. You’ll have a nice bruise for a few days, but other than that you’ll be fine. Do try to be more careful. You and Fritz would be neck and neck in a contest for the biggest klutz.”

“That’s not true!” She objected, daintily touching her nose. When her pointer finger made contact with the bruise, she winced, dropping her hand back onto her lap in defeat. “I’m not clumsy,” she clarified, “I’m just kind of spacey sometimes. I didn’t see Klaus coming.”

“And to be fair, I was walking quite fast,” Klaus added.

“Yes, well, walk slower next time!” Marian quipped. He carefully placed the remaining gauze in his first aid kit. Then, in a softer voice, he asked, “Minori, dear, how are you? We haven’t talked in some time. Didn’t you travel to see your family for the holidays? How was it?”

She nodded. “Yeah I did. It was great. I hadn’t seen my older brother in person since I came here three years ago, so that was really nice.”

Klaus wasn’t as close to Minori as he was to Raeger or Iris, but he would consider her more than an acquaintance. As far as he had observed, it was hard for anyone who knew Minori for more than a week not to consider her more than an acquaintance. She carried herself well and was always outgoing and helpful — all qualities that made her popular with the townspeople.

Everyone knew that Minori valued her family very highly — especially her brother. They were a rare case of siblings who actually got along; the only other example he knew offhand was Lillie and her sister, Melanie.

Klaus realized that the conversation had shifted. Marian was reintroducing Minori to Del Cossa.

“Yes, we’ve met many times.” She shook Del Cossa’s hand. “It’s good to see you again, sir. Giorgio told me you’ve been in Europe?”

Del Cossa nodded. “Yes, I have.”

The fashion designer seemed oddly distracted. Minori seemed to detect this, because she dove straight into a conversation with Marian about how busy the Norchester train station was. No sooner had they started speaking, however, did Del Cossa suddenly interrupt.

“Excuse me, are those the board members of the Farmer’s Appreciation Society?” He pointed into the crowd, toward three people that Klaus had never seen before.

Minori nodded. “Yeah. That’s actually who I was talking to right before I bumped into Klaus.”

“Do you know why they’re here?” He pushed his glasses further up on his nose.

Minori dug one of her shoes into the snow. Her expression appeared thoughtful, even a tad bit nervous. “Kind of. They’re trying to select an agricultural representative for the New Leaf Competition.” She stumbled over the words, as if she wasn’t sure what they meant. “They asked me a bunch of questions for some sort of survey.”

Del Cossa shook his head. “Oh, I highly doubt that it was for ‘some sort of survey,’ my dear.” He stood from his chair. Klaus could have sworn he heard one of the man’s knee joints pop. “If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to speak to them.”

He handed his wine glass to a surprised Marian, and then ambled straight for the trio of board members.

“Odd,” Marian said. He turned to Minori. “What’s this about a competition?”

Minori stood from her lawn chair. “I’d really love to explain, Marian, but I promised Raeger I’d help him cater and it’s almost seven-thirty. His company cancelled on him, and I’m already late because of this whole nose catastrophe.”

“I heard about Raeger’s issues,” Klaus said. “Do you think he needs another set of hands? I’d love to help.”

“Oh, definitely.” She smoothed out her jacket, and went on, “The team he was supposed to get was six people strong, so I’m sure he’d really appreciate it. Lillie and I are his only helpers right now.”

“Off we go, then.” He offered his arm to her, and she giggled before taking it.

“You two be safe!” Marian called as they left. “No more nosebleeds!”

Klaus saluted to Marian over his shoulder. “Yes sir!”

“And don’t forget we have an appointment tomorrow morning, Klaus!”

He directed a two-fingered salute toward his friend. “I’ll be there, Doctor!”

Winter 31st. Oak Tree Town Square. 11:45 PM.

The evening passed much quicker than Minori expected it to. Helping Raeger dish out noodles was a much-welcome break from her tangled thoughts about the FAS members’ interview. She was able to lose herself in the work. Each person who came up to the table for noodles had a different face, a different voice, a different life. She liked to imagine each person’s life outside of the Trade Depot. It kept her mind working.

And, of course, there was no shortage of conversation as they worked. If she wasn’t concocting a backstory for a festival-goer, she was talking to a patron or her friends. Some of the townspeople were surprised to see her behind the counter; others had already heard about the fiasco with Raeger’s catering company and were grateful he had helping hands.

Sometime around eleven the crowd of noodle-eaters finally thinned. Lillie and Klaus excused themselves to meet with their families — or, in Klaus’s case, with Marian. Minori stayed behind with Raeger to help him pack up the equipment.

More than a half hour passed before they were through. Raeger leaned against one of his carts and let out a heavy sigh.

“Thanks, Nor.” He stretched his arm around her shoulders in a half-hug. “I don’t know what I would’ve done without you and Lillie tonight. And Klaus.”

“You’re welcome. It was fun!” she said. “Honestly, I think this is my favorite New Years festival since I moved here. The time passed really quickly. And the work kept me warm.”

He took his arm away from her shoulders. “Yeah, and there’s only fifteen minutes left before midnight.”

“Yeah.”

“Is the long winter gonna affect your crops?” he asked, looking at her with concerned, puppy-dog eyes.

She laughed, despite the subject of the conversation. “Those eyes, Raeger. This is why all the girls love you.”

He sighed. “I should just wear sunglasses everywhere.”

“Sounds good.” Her smile faded, however, when she remembered his question. “But yeah, if the cold lasts too much longer it’ll put a dent in my work this spring. I have a huge load of five-star potato seeds that I wanted to get in the ground right away.”

“Well, you know if you ever need anything, I’m always here to help.” He smiled, and added, “Obviously I’d prefer to make you free meals, but if you need anything besides food I can try to help with that, too.”

She grinned, looking up at the stars. “Hopefully it won’t come to that point. But I wouldn’t mind if you made Half-Off French Toast Wednesdays a thing again this Spring. The cows would get so mad at me last year when I let them out an hour later than usual last year, but that french toast was so worth it.”

Raeger chuckled. “I’m glad, Nor. I’ll think about doing it again, just for you.”

Minori looked out into the crowd. It was less dense, now. Some of the families with younger children and elderly couples had left the Depot to return home. She knew that Melanie and Lutz, as well as Otmar, would still be there, though. This festival was too precious to the townspeople for them to go home early and sleep.

Speaking of younger townspeople, Minori saw a young girl rushing toward them through the thinning crowd. At first she thought it was an unlucky kid coming back for more noodles, but as the girl drew closer she realized it was someone more familiar. The curls in her hair had fallen out, and she had exchanged her cute earmuffs for a too-big knit cap, but it was unmistakably Melanie.

Minori was just about to call out a greeting when she noticed the grave look on Melanie’s face. Her worried eyes stopped her from speaking. Instead, Melanie was the first to speak.

“Minori! Raeger!” she called, rushing up to them.

Raeger looked up from his catering equipment and grinned, but, upon seeing her face, his eyebrows drew together in worry. “What’s up, Melanie?”

“It’s Lillie,” Melanie said, her voice raspy from running. She gulped for air. “There’s some guy, following her. He won’t leave her alone. I don’t know what to do! He looks really creepy. Please help!”

Raeger and Minori exchanged a look. Of course, Minori thought, the festival had been going too smoothly. Opening the event up to the public couldn’t be without consequence. She just wished, maybe selfishly, that it didn’t have to be of consequence to her or her friends.

“Where is she?” Minori asked.

“By the archway,” Melanie replied. “But she won’t leave the festival grounds ‘cause she doesn’t wanna miss the countdown.” Her eyes were watering. “A-And I don’t know where dad is because he’s talking with business people. He said he’d find me but he hasn’t yet.”

“Alright, Lanie,” Raeger said. His words were slow and careful. “Minori and I will take care of it. Go get some water and find Lutz and his parents. Do you know where they are?”

Melanie sniffled but nodded, keeping her head high. “Mhmm.”

She didn’t budge. Raeger reached out and squeezed her shoulder. “Don’t worry. We’ll take care of it. Okay?”

She nodded again, frantically. “Okay. I’ll go find Lutz.”

“Good plan,” Raeger said.

Melanie turned and disappeared into the crowd. Minori watched her go, her stomach churning with worry. Still, she was proud of Melanie. Two years ago this sort of thing would’ve reduced her to a puddle of tears, but she had grown considerably since then.

Once Melanie was out of earshot, Raeger turned to Minori with a frown. “I’ve got a plan. I think it’ll work, but you should come in case I need reinforcements.”

Minori quirked an eyebrow. “Reinforcements? You’re not going to fight this guy or anything, right?”

“No,” Raeger said. He ran a hand through his hair. “But who knows. If it comes to that, I need you to run and get Klaus. I think he’s still hanging out with Marian. Now come on.”

He grabbed her hand and started leading her through the crowd, but she still had more questions. “I don’t think Klaus is the guy you’d want to ask to help you in a fight, Raeger. Shouldn’t I look for Maurice, or even, I don’t know, Nadi or Fritz?”

Raeger snorted. “Trust me, Klaus can hold his own in a fight better than I can.”

Minori tried to get a look at his expression, but his face was turned from her and toward the depot entrance. “If you say so. What’s your plan?”

But before he could respond, they broke away from the beef of the crowd and saw Lillie. Sure enough, she was standing near the entrance of the Trade Depot. A burly man stood only slightly away from her. He was definitely, as Melanie had described, “creepy.” Lillie appeared to be speaking to him, but everything about her posture and disposition suggested extreme discomfort, even from where Minori and Raeger stood twenty feet away.

Raeger increased his pace to a speed walk, letting go of Minori’s hand. She didn’t hang back, though. She walked faster so that she could keep up with Raeger and help her friend.

Lillie paused in her speech when she saw Raeger. Her face flooded with relief.

“Raeger,” she greeted.

“Hey, babe,” he replied, and —

— abruptly swept her into his arms and kissed her.

Minori squeaked with surprise, but, realizing Raeger’s plan, hid her reaction with a violent cough. The burly guy recoiled, simultaneously shocked and disgusted. Minori couldn’t really blame him for the second reaction: Raeger’s kiss was still going strong and, from what she could see, looked a little sloppy.

“Alright, lovebirds,” Minori said, barely able to keep the mirth out of her voice. She didn’t want to raise suspicion, but Raeger’s apparent plan had her nearly in stitches. Lillie would surely complain about him kissing her for weeks. “Melanie’s waiting for us.”

Raeger finally broke off the spit-swapping fest, but he didn’t let go of Lillie. Instead, he wrapped one arm tightly around her waist and started steering her away from the other guy, back toward the crowd.

“Minori’s right, babe,” he said, loud enough for the creepy man to clearly hear. “Let’s get you back to your dad so we’re ready for the count down, okay?”

Lillie’s gaze didn’t seem to be focused on anything, but her eyes were wide with what Minori figured was surprise.

“O-Okay,” she managed to respond.

And just like that, the danger had passed. Minori waited for Raeger and Lillie to pass until she looked over her shoulder at the guy who had been following Lillie. He looked completely put-off and annoyed. Minori stuck her tongue out at him, but only because she knew it was too dark for him to see her do so. She watched as he huffed and then stalked angrily toward the archway, away from the festival grounds and back toward the open field they were using for temporary car parking.

“Good plan,” Minori muttered to Raeger as they walked.

He smiled a bit. “Thanks. Worked a lot better than I thought it would.”

As soon as they were far enough away, Raeger stopped and held Lillie at arm’s length.

“Are you okay, Lillie?” he asked. “Sorry if I surprised you. Melanie came and told us that guy was being creepy, and it was the best and quickest plan I had.”

Lillie nodded, but her expression was still off. “I’m fine,” she said. Her voice was airy and light.

Raeger and Minori exchanged a glance. Then he turned back to Lillie.

“You sure?” he asked. “You’re not scared or anything?”

“N-No,” she said, “really, I’m fine.”

Minori narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “You don’t seem fine, Lillie.”

Lillie didn��t respond. She just stared off into space, seemingly unseeing. Minori’s stomach flipped.

Raeger pulled Minori slightly to the side, and asked in a hushed voice, “Do you think she’s in shock?”

She stared at him blankly. “What?”

“Do you think she’s —“

“No, no, I heard what you said,” Minori said, cutting him off. “Why would she be in shock? You don’t think that guy, like, did something to her…?”

Raeger made a face. “No, of course not!” He ran a hand through his hair. It seemed to calm him down a little. “She just seems off.”

Minori looked at Lillie. She was just standing there, staring into nothingness, her eyes still wide like teacup saucers.

“Okay, maybe, you’re right,” Minori conceded. “Should I get Marian?”

Raeger nodded. “Yeah, that might be for the best. I’ll bring her back over to my catering stuff and you can meet us there.”

“Got it.”

Minori turned away. Someone had turned off the street lamps around the Trade Depot, likely so that it was easier to see the stars and the fireworks that would go off at midnight. Unfortunately, it made her task of finding Marian much more difficult. She figured the best place to start was by retracing her steps from earlier, when she went to get her nose checked out.

She looked up at the sky. Her nose was still buzzing and it was still cold and she was still worried about Lillie, but she couldn’t help but feel incredibly grateful in that moment. Tomorrow, Spring 1st, would begin her third year in Oak Tree Town. After two full years, she finally felt solid about where she stood in town. Goddess knew what the third year had in store, but she had a feeling it was going to be great.

Because the crowd was thinner now that some families had left, it was easier to navigate the festival grounds. When she finally reached her destination, however, she was greeted with two empty chairs and two empty wine glasses. The town doctor was nowhere in sight.

“Looking for someone?”

Minori jumped. She turned toward the voice.

“Oh, Klaus,” she said, her voice little more than a sigh. “You frightened me.”

“My apologies.” He stepped closer to her so that she could see him better. “How’s your nose?”

His words somehow sounded less calculated than usual. She gave Klaus a lot of grief for acting like an old man, which perhaps was unwarranted when she didn’t even know his real age. But when he spoke with the syntax of an English professor and carried a supply of pocket kerchiefs everywhere he went, it was hard not to tease him.

Still, the way he was speaking now made him sound younger. Maybe it was the alcohol —

“Minori?”

She blinked.

“Yes? Oh, my nose. It’s okay. Still buzzing a little bit.” She grinned, and added, “If only your elbow weren’t so hard.”

“Ah, yes.” He reached back to scratch the back of his neck. “And to think I almost wore my sports coat with heavier fabric on the elbows.”

She tilted her head to the side. “Those exist? What’s the point of that?”

Klaus chuckled. “Apparently, to prevent possible nose injuries.”

She couldn’t help but giggle at that. “Well, it was partially my fault, too.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Oh, was it? As I recall, it was my elbow that hit your face, not the other way around.”

“Well, if I were a little taller, maybe I could’ve avoided the hit.”

“Ah, yes.” He smiled at her joke. “Next festival, you should wear shoes with taller heels. Six inches at least. Like that reporter — Lillie’s friend, I believe.”

Minori giggled. “Kassie! Yes, I noticed, too! She had those massive heels!”

Klaus chuckled. His face looked ten years younger when he smiled. He actually looked rather handsome tonight, she realized. While she was sure her face was ten shades of red and pink from the cold, his complexion seemed unbothered by the weather. He didn’t even look tired, even though it was nearing midnight. The bags under his eyes were gone, replaced with crinkles around the corners of his eyes from prolonged laughter.

She wondered what Klaus had been like when he was younger, before the bags around his eyes, and before the crinkles. Just smooth skin and laughter; hair like the night sky and keen, sharp eyes, like a wolf.

Minori cleared her throat to bring herself back to the present, determined not to space out again.

“I’d be so clumsy in Kassie’s shoes,” she said, “I think I’d get a nose injury and then some.”

Klaus nodded. “Indeed. How does she walk in the snow?”

“I have no idea,” Minori replied.

He hummed, his expression thoughtful. “A determined woman is always a force to be reckoned with.”

“Especially a determined woman with six inch heels,” Minori added. “I mean, after all, they kind of double as a weapon, right? She could stab someone’s eye out with those!”

He laughed, and, again, Minori watched his face transform. She wondered why she hadn't noticed this hidden youthfulness before. After all, it wasn’t like he was a normally grumpy human being. He’d laughed plenty of times around her. Maybe it was the pain medicine that Marian had given her for her nose, or the night air. Or perhaps Klaus’s perfume convention had given his soul a break? She wasn’t sure, but she hoped the change stuck around.

The crowd in the plaza suddenly started to buzz. Minori looked over her shoulder, watching as families huddled together or moved across the square to find other friends.

“What’s happening?” she wondered aloud.

Klaus looked at his watch. “Ah. One minute left until the New Year.”

Minori grinned — and then her heart dropped into her stomach.

“Oh, Goddess!” She smashed a hand against her forehead. “I was supposed to find Marian. Do you know where he is?”

Klaus’s smile faltered. “Across the square. Why? What’s wrong?”

“Some guy was following…” she trailed off. “There’s no time to explain. Can you take me to him?”

He nodded. “Of course. Right this way.”

Scarcely had they taken two steps, however, when Marian emerged from the crowd.

“Well, speak of the devil,” Klaus said.

“Oh, thank goodness.” Minori cupped her hands around her mouth like a megaphone. Marian!” she called out. “We need your —“

She stopped as she realized that Raeger and Lillie were already following behind Marian. Melanie and Maurice trailed behind them.

“No worries, Nor!” Raeger said, jogging up to them. “Marian just happened to pass by after you left.” Once he was next to Minori, he lowered his voice and said, “Lillie’s doing a little better now that her family is here. Marian said she wasn’t in shock, but I’m still not so sure.”

Minori trusted Marian’s judgment, but Raeger’s face looked so dour that she said, “We’ll keep an eye on her.”

He nodded. “Yeah.”

Lillie’s family and Marian joined them to form a little circle.

“Minori, darling,” Marian greeted, grabbing her hand. “How’s the nose?”

“It’s fine, Marian, thank you.”

Minori looked and saw that Raeger was busy comforting Lillie, so she turned back to Marian and asked very quietly, “Lillie’s not in shock?”

Marian, much to her surprise, snorted. “Hardly.” Seeing Minori’s concerned expression, he added, “It’s nothing a good night’s sleep and some girl talk won’t fix.” He winked. “Promise.”

She wanted to ask what Marian meant by that, but before she could, voices rose from the middle of the plaza.

“Ten…Nine…”

It seemed that their time until midnight was nearly up. Marian was the first of their group to join the counting.

“Eight!”

A hand clasped Minori’s shoulder. It was Maurice. He was smiling, counting down along with the crowd.

Minori looked over at Raeger and Lillie. After some coaxing from Raeger, Lillie also joined in on the counting. Melanie followed her sister’s lead.

“…Five!”

Minori breathed in. She thought of the FAS interview. She breathed out.

Klaus, who was standing on her other side, looked down at her. He winked — winked! — at her and joined in on the counting.

“Three!”

Well, if Klaus was going to count, she certainly couldn’t sit out.

“Two…One!”

Cheers erupted from the crowd. Minori found herself looking up. Stars dotted the midnight sky — beautiful and shining and full of potential. To her, this festival somehow always felt sad. This year, however, she would compare it to looking at the night sky.

“Happy New Year,” she said to no one in particular, still staring at the stars.

#blue lace #lousylarksings #story of seasons #klaus #minori #annie #elise #fanfiction #i might edit this more later before i post it other places #don't judge me

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persorene · 7 years

Note

A request if I may; Jakob lets Corrin sneak out and she gets hurt.

"How was your walk to the market?" Corrin asked, she stood next to her butler in the kitchen, helping him unpack the crate of provisions that he'd collected."Quite nice, actually. Do you remember the pregnant horse I had told you about? The one from the farm down the way from here?" He asked as he lifted a head of cabbage from his master's hands."I do. Did she have her foal?""She did. Handsome little fellow, all grey. I stopped on the way home and he walked right up to the fence, even let me pet him.""He sounds adorable. I wish I could see him." the princess grumbled, sliding a basket of eggs to the butler."Milady, I am ever so sorry, I didn't mean to upset you." he stopped putting away the food, instead turning to look at his master, watching for any signs of sorrow on her delicate features."It's alright, I should know better. Wishing is foolish." she inhaled as if to stifle a sob "And yet, I always find myself dreaming of going along with you on your errands.""I would take you with me in a heartbeat if I could, Lady Corrin.""Well. You could." she muttered."And get us both killed for sneaking out? No, absolutely not."Jakob rarely told her no and it had obviously taken her for surprise, she looked up at him, her eyelids fluttering in confusion over her ruby eyes."No, don't look at me like that." he groaned, whenever she made that face he lost every ounce of willpower he had."But, Jakob, if we hurried and went to the foal and straight back no one even notice we were gone.""Lady Corrin, this is absurd.""Please, just one time!" she crossed the small space between them and gripped his shirt in her small hands, her eyes searched his as his stony facade crumbled."Fine. You can play me like an instrument, can't you?""Only because you're the very best person ever." she chimed, throwing her arms around his waist and pressing her face into his chest "Thank you for always trying to make me happy."Jakob grumbled but he couldn't deny her compliment had warmed his heart "Meet me by the stable doors in ten minutes. I need to make sure no one will notice our absence."___________________________________________________________________________________________"This is amazing!" Corrin shouted as soon as they were outside of the fortress walls. The princess was dressed in a servant's gown with her long locks tucked into a bonnet, from the back, she would be unrecognisable.Jakob smiled at his master, lovingly watching as she ran ahead of him along the path. He had snuck her out on occasion in the past, but never this far "I'm glad you're happy, but please do refrain from the shouts until we're further away." he teased, he had intentionally avoided using her name or her title on the off chance that someone else was in the area."Oh. Sorry." she whispered, slowing down to her pace to walk alongside her butler "I'm just so excited! It's beautiful out here."The princess slowed even more, marveling at the world around her, the sky above was a hazy grey, low hanging clouds were drifting in a light breeze, a gentle rain was falling, darkening her already dull gown in random places as the drops landed. The grass was a dull green, matching the barely budding leaves on the few sparse trees that clung desperately to life in the sunless environment."Where is it, Jakob? The farm, I mean.""We'll cross the bridge and then it's a fair walk away, but we'll hurry. Are you getting nervous?" he asked quietly."A bit. I'm worried we'll be caught.""We'll be alright, no one goes anywhere at this time of the day and we're usually hidden away in the library by now anyway, no one will suspect a thing."She smiled warmly at her friend "Are you trying to convince me or convince yourself? You're never this calm about breaking the rules.""You already talked me into breaking them." he laughed, lightly bumping into her shoulder he walked "What good would it do to worry now?"The princess laughed as she shoved him back "I suppose you're right."The pair settled down, crossing the bridge in silence and making their way into the open field that lay across the ravine from the fortress grounds. Corrin began to shiver, it wasn't strong and to anyone but Jakob it probably wouldn't have been noticeable."Are you cold?" he asked, stopping his movement and turning to face her."A tad, I'm just not used to being out in the rain. I'm okay." she smiled, her teeth slightly chattering as she did."Hold on." Jakob quickly shrugged out of his coat and stepped behind his master, gently wrapping her in its warmth."You didn't have to do that, now you'll freeze."He chuckled lightly "I'll be alright, I'm far more concerned about you than I am about myself. Besides, I'm used to being out here.""You're too good to me." she said as she slid her left arm around his right elbow, clinging tightly to him as they walked."I would do anything for you, Corrin.""I know you would, you brought me out here after all."Jakob gently rubbed the back of her hand that was laced around his elbow "Look." he whispered "There's the farm."In the distance, a small stone cottage lay tucked against a hill, a weather-worn barn stood beside it and the fields around the dwelling were dotted with sheep and horses.Corrin smiled, a laugh of pure joy breaking free from her as she bolted forward across the rolling hills.Jakob watched her bounding through the grass, his eyes never leaving her, as she ran. As he watched, her legs suddenly fell out from underneath of her, throwing her to ground below."Corrin!" he bellowed, running ahead as fast as he could to the spot he'd last seen her. He found her quickly, lying sprawled amongst the waving grass."Are you alright? Corrin?"The princess leaned up on her hands "I'm okay.""What happened?""I tripped over that root." she grimaced and pointed at a gnarled hunk of wood protruding through the earth."Are you hurt?" The butler asked as he gently brushed the dirt off of her shoulder."Just my pride, I think."He chuckled slightly "Okay then, I'll help you up."He stood and held her hands as he did so, easing her onto her feet. The princess hissed in pain as soon as she shifted her weight to her right foot "Ow, ow!" She hurriedly spat, easing her body back to the ground."I guess I hurt my pride AND my foot." she grumbled, grimacing as she moved her ankle in a circle."May I see it?""Go ahead." she held out her leg and pulled her skirt away from it."It's very swollen. Does it hurt when I do this?" Jakob firmly held her foot in his hand, gently turning it outward."Yes." she moaned.The butler lowered his head and sighed "It's sprained. And of course this would be the day I didn't pack any staves.""I'll be fine. I can walk.""No, you can't. It would only make it worse."Jakob crouched to the ground in front of Corrin with his back facing her "Climb on.""You told me I was too old for piggy back rides.""This is different, silly. How else will you get home?" he laughed. She was right of course, he'd asked her to stop years ago when it had started to become more inappropriate, but, this was an emergency.Corrin crawled forward, hoisting her self onto her butler's back and gripping his shoulders tightly "I'm on."Jakob stood up carefully, wrapping his arms securely around her legs as he positioned her more comfortably on his back "Are you comfortable?""Yup!""Let's go then!" He chimed, walking further toward the fence Corrin had been attempting to reach prior to her fall."Where are we going?""I promised you we'd see the foal, didn't I?""Oh Jakob!" She trilled, throwing her arms around his neck and hugging him "You really are the best."He stepped slowly, trying his best not to jostle the princess that lay across his back as he approached the paddock. Jakob stopped walking and clicked his tongue, drawing the attention of the mare and her foal. The pair trotted to the man, reaching him in a matter of moments. The butler smiled at the creatures and reached into his pocket, retrieving a sugar cube and holding it out for the mare."Stopped by once on your way home, huh?" Corrin teased "Looks like someone has a soft spot for horses."He laughed and crouched low enough for her to reach in and pet the baby "Horses and princesses named Corrin seem to be weaknesses."Corrin was grateful that she was clinging to his back, his last comment had caused her to blush faster than she cared to admit. She focused on the little grey colt, stroking his floppy ears and running her fingers through the short tuft of hair that would one day be a mane. "You were right, he's the cutest thing I've ever seen.""Well, I wouldn't call him the cutest thing I've ever seen. That place has been held firmly for quite awhile, but he is rather darling." he stood up straighter, slowly easing her away from the small animal "We should get you home and take care of your ankle, milady.""Yes, I suppose we should." the princess lightly tapped his side with her good foot "Giddy up!"Jakob laughed heartily and snorted as if he were a horse, playfully stamping one foot on the ground before over dramatically trotting back to the path. Corrin fell into a giggling fit as her usually proper butler shamelessly entertained her. Leaning over his shoulder, she lay her head against his neck, holding her arms around him firmly as his playful trot devolved into a steady paced walk toward their home.The butler ambled across the bridge and snuck around the back of the fortress, dashing up the servant's stairs to the third floor. He hastily ran through the halls with the princess still clinging to his back. Jakob quietly opened her bedroom door and slipped in, gently lowering her onto the bed."You get changed out of this uniform and I'll be back with a stave for your ankle."He returned moments later to find his master perched on her bed, her borrowed servant's gown replaced with one of her own, her hair finally freed from the bonnet and rolling down her back in soft waves."Are you ready?"She nodded and lay back on her bed, her back propped up on a pile of pillows and her leg exposed from the ankle down."Alright, this shouldn't hurt." he lifted his stave and bathed the injury in glowing light, muttering some spell under his breath all the while.Corrin wiggled her ankle as he worked, smiling with relief as the pain dissipated "You did it!" she chimed."I'm happy it won't hurt you anymore. And, I'm sorry that your adventure wasn't what you wanted it to be.""You must be joking. I had so much fun!" she smiled and lightly shoved his shoulder "Plus I found out you make a pretty good horse.""H- hey!" he sputtered, his cheeks blushing a brilliant red "I was just-""No, it's okay, actually I thought it was rather... cute. You really will do anything for me won't you?""Of course, anything you'd ever ask of me. Even prancing about like a horse."She sighed happily "Honestly, I have no idea how I got lucky enough to have you in my life.""You've no idea how much that means to me, princess.""Thank you, for the whole day. For everything." she smiled and hugged him once more, her eyes lingering on his windswept hair and reddened cheeks."Think nothing of it. Now, I must be off, they'll be preparing dinner soon and I still can't trust the kitchen staff to accomplish that without my supervision."

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preciousrichard-blog · 7 years

Text

Second Thoughts, Second Chances (Sniper/Spy)

Chapter 1: Rigid Fingers

AO3 Link: http://archiveofourown.org/works/9419246/chapters/21321191

Rating: Teen+

Chapter Summary: Australians and snowstorms don’t really mix, so the RED sniper is having a rough day at work. The enemy spy stops by for a one of his strange visits that doesn’t involve stabbing any backs. Somehow the two find cold weather is better together.

"Do us a favor would ya kid?" Sniper mumbled, eye squinted into the lens of his scope, "Get lost." And he fired, the stock of his rifle mechanically recoiling into his shoulder. A scream resounded in the far distance.

The scout who was standing behind him gave him an incredulous look, his hands in his pockets.

"Hey fine," the young man snorted, breath clinging to the air in clouds of vapor, "no skin off my nose. Hope your ass freezes to that crate there."

The sniper pulled away from leaning on the beam of his roost. The dry snow that lay upon on it fell in a flutter over the side and spread across the air. Sniper noted it and grimaced, pulling his gun in and setting it upright against the railing.

"You should be cappin' points not yammerin' on. Get bloody goin'!" He chided as the young man drew his shoulders in and furrowed his brow.

The scout had run up into the nest as an excuse to escape the cold wind down below, chatting on about this or that as Sniper made his shots into the open expanse of snow. One could only take so many distractions before he got fed up with all of them. Between the snow drifting in his sights, the cold in his bones, and the ringing of that snide and arrogant Boston accent, Sniper was just about ready to pack up and demand they all call it a day. Scout offered a few more vaguely offended remarks before he regarded the pointed stare of his team mate and clambered off down the steps.

Sniper receded into the warmth built up in his heavy jacket for a moment after, pulling his scarf up closer against his neck. He pushed his Mann Co. Brown Bomber hat down securely before heaving a frustrated huff and picking his rifle up from against the wooden railing. He was careful not to shift any more snow, lest he be spotted. He really did hate the winter.

Forced to work with fingerless gloves, the skin of his hands had become dry and thin with the air. He fumbled with the slippery bolt handle as he pulled it free. Taking a round from his ammunition he easily slipped it inside and pushed the bolt, cursing harshly when it shut hard against his finger. He drew back and brought the pinched appendage to his mouth, muffling the curses seething out as he nursed the ache. At least it wasn't bleeding. With the round in the chamber he settled and took aim at a BLU soldier visible just around the corner near the enemy dispenser. The poor stupid bastard was just standing there begging for a bullet in the temple. Sniper pulled the trigger, but his crosshairs faltered as a shiver wracked his body and he shot right over his head.

"Are you bloody seriou- ugh..." The sniper hissed again, reloading clumsily as he watched the helmet move back behind the wall.

That must have been the last straw for the man, because he slung his rifle over his shoulder and sank back into his seat on the crates with folded arms. He had to have looked like a child who hadn't gotten his way but he couldn't find it in himself to care. To hell with the match, no one was getting anywhere today and the back and forth was mind numbing. He couldn't work when he was frozen stiff and he was as good as useless after a snowstorm like last night. It didn't help that he was out of coffee and what was left in his mug was frozen solid. A creaking in the floorboards alerted him to turn his head, catching a glimpse of blue ambling toward him casually.

"If you don't bugger off..." He muttered as he turned back around, fidgeting in his seat to sink further into his layers, "I'll turn ya into a piss-cicle."

The figure behind him chortled, smooth and warm, "I am astounded you can relieve yourself at all without it turning to ice immediately."

"I'll just have to shank ya with a dagger made'a piss then." Sniper snorted back.

"Sniper, we both know daggers are not your style."

The sharpshooter knew, just from the way the man strolled up to him, who he was. The smell of spice and tobacco wafted across the lofty nest as his vaguely European accent filled the space. The BLU spy had done this before, many times. One day he simply started talking instead of stabbing. At first Sniper pinned it as trickery and sent the blue bastard through respawn at every attempt. But after a while and a chance to humor the masked man’s questions, they began to chat occasionally. Now their relationship consisted of mostly the same professional rivalry as always, save for bizarrely tame and casual conversations when the spy approached him with his guard clearly down. They usually never killed each other on days like those.

"Have you clocked out already?" Spy inquired, hands in his pockets, leaning over the crate to glance at the man's expression.

"We shouldn't even be out here." Sniper puffed back, vapor visualizing his words, "Why can't the administrator just call a ceasefire?"

Blowing smoke to the side, Spy scanned around the room, "You know how it is up there," his attention fell upon a stack of jars, "we are disposable to them, it is rare they display such... Compassion."

He circled around the crates and stopped short of the stack of jars on the floor. He glanced at the sniper who was merely staring across the battlefield, then hesitantly tapped the glass with his shoe.

"Mon Dieu." He said mostly to himself, eyebrows twitching upward, "You might as well throw bricks. They're frozen solid."

Sniper regarded him with a twitch of his mouth, "Can whip ya up a fresh batch if you prefer it warm." He scoffed, cocking an eyebrow.

Disgust washed over Spy's face much to Sniper's amusement, and he laughed through his nose at the way the other curled away from the jars.

"Always charming." Spy said, rolling his eyes.

He idly smoked, standing just behind the sniper and gazing someplace far past the complex. He thought he saw a deer past the fences, but before he could get a good look he noticed the way Sniper shivered, and the red painted on his nose and fingers when he brought them up to breathe on them. The spy rummaged in his pockets.

"Do you have a lighter?" He questioned at the man curled up before him.

The sniper flicked his head toward him, surprised for a second before reaching toward his pockets, "Uh, nah mate I only carry a book'a matches. Need a light?"

Before he could get them, Spy was holding a silver lighter before him, clicking it to life. The glow alone warmed his face, awash suddenly in orange against the dark gray brown light of the roost.

"Warm your fingers, they look dreadful." Spy tutted, "What kind of sniper would you be if they fell off?"

Sniper curled his upper lip at him for a moment, then grabbed the little thing from him a bit more forcefully than he intended. He felt embarrassed that the BLU spy of all people felt pity for his pathetic shivering state. He looked up and saw the cool gray of Spy's eyes watching him intensely, keeping track of every motion. It always made Sniper feel put on the spot.

"Where's your BLU sniper?" He asked carefully, lowering the flickering flame and gazing out below, "Last thing I need is my bloody head blown off while distracted by you."

"He's caught a cold of all things." Spy sighed, "Honestly, how careless. I doubt you will see him today."

Warily, Sniper nodded and brought the lighter up to his hands, thawing the frigid and numb fingers which were course and unwilling to move. He sighed at the welcome warmth, bending his joints as they melted into more pliant movement. Spy seemed content with it, giving a satisfied hum while taking another long drag off of his cigarette. When the last of his aching faded, Sniper leaned comfortably back and snapped the lighter closed.

"Fancy thing," he snorted, looking it over, "You sure love to throw you're bloody money away on nonsense."

"It is not nonsense. It is a reliable lighter, never mind the price." Spy spat back.

"Yer always buyin' trinkets you don't need ya bloody ponce."

"You are not one to tell me what I need." Spy's voice grew venomous.

"Nobody needs that rubbish you carry around. Yer just a wanka who does it fer show." He toyed with the metal, "And with flowers engraved on the side? You come off as a right pooftah."

Spy stepped before him at that, holding his palm out. He looked displeased, eyebrows furrowed and lips pulling hard on one side in a sneer. What he really wanted was to snatch it back from him and give him a piece of his mind, being thoroughly insulted at his insinuations. He watched as Sniper's eyes got wider, looking about for only a second before coming down on the lighter. He put it in Spy's palm tentatively, and Spy watched him deflate.

"Some thank you." Spy snapped.

"Sorry..." Sniper murmured, and Spy stilled where he stood.

He looked down at Sniper; his hands were fiddling with his fingers. He looked him up and down, and still the man wouldn't look up at him.

"What?" Spy asked, leaning in, a bit of disbelief in his features.

"M'sorry." He responded more clearly, "I'm bein' an arse... It's all this bloody snow."

Spy couldn't believe his ears. "You never apologize to me."

"Look I know when I say too much alright?" Sniper looked defeated, and Spy couldn't fathom the change.

He put a hand on Sniper's shoulder, and he flinched, although it could have been a shiver from the cold. He finally looked up at that, meeting his eyes, breath stilling when he acknowledged the softness in the masked man's expression. He looked away quickly.

"It's quite alright," Spy reassured melodically, "we're all finding difficulties in this weather."

Sniper sighed; he felt warmth creeping from Spy's touch. It was too casual, too jarring in its innocence. He wanted to push his hand away but his arms wouldn't move. Instead he sat, looking at his boots and the scattering of snow dusted across the floor. There was something about the enemy Spy that the RED spy didn't share. Including his strange interest in the Australian man. Of all the people in his proximity who he suspected might want to be his acquaintance, the BLU spy was always last on that list. But for some reason he kept coming back. For years it's been his instinct to spite the man, spitting insults and curses at him. What else could be expected when he spent half his battles waiting to respawn from a knife in his spinal column? But now, somehow they'd gotten to this point; sharing lighters and conversations in the middle of a war zone.

"Hey Spy?" Sniper piped up when the others hand returned to his cigarette.

"Oui?" Spy asked, cocking a brow.

"Why'd'ya come here?" Sniper asked, quieter, his hands going back to play idly with his finger joints.

"Why?" Spy parroted, turning fully to the other, "Well it is cold, and I do hate getting my clothes wet."

"No you git." Sniper sighed, thumbing at his palm, "Why come chat at all...?"

"Have you changed your mind?"

"What?"

"About chatting."

"Wh... No."

"Then-"

"Just answer me would ya?" Sniper was beginning to look a bit disheveled.

Spy pondered for a moment, thumb and forefinger coming to rest on his chin. He shifted his weight to one leg and looked over the Sniper's form. Sniper gulped quietly, acutely aware of the places those eyes began to roam. He felt scrutinized, and exposed. It embarrassed him.

"You are interesting," Spy finally said, "that is why."

"Like a science project?" He gawked, monotone.

Spy snorted some sort of laughter stuck in the back of his throat that he tried to hold in and failed. Sniper puffed up indignantly and was about to open his mouth to retort when Spy continued.

"Non no mon amie, like a puzzle." He smiled, snuffing the butt of his cigarette into the snow on the railing.

Sniper must have looked visibly perplexed, because Spy only chuckled again.

"You hang around me because yer tryin' to figure me out?" He said, treading carefully on his tone.

"Not quite." Spy smiled, "I 'hang around' because I very much enjoy your company."

"That don't make much sense Spy. You hate my way'a life." Sniper furrowed.

"As dirty as it is-" Spy threw a hateful glance at the jars of frozen jarate, "I find it doesn't make you any less of a person per-say." He stepped back and took a graceful seat on the crate beside the man, "You intrigue me, and I'm quite fond of your rustic atmosphere."

Sniper wasn't sure when he stopped breathing, but he willed himself to continue once Spy settled onto his seat. He listened, and felt a soft quivering in his chest. He brushed it aside, and tried to keep eye contact.

"I'm a simple man." The Aussie said quietly, "I like simple stuff, nothin' fancy about me. We're not much alike mate."

"And that's what keeps this so interesting." Spy smirked, "As simple as you claim you are, you cannot deny that deep down we both seek the same things out of life."

Sniper looked at him like he had his head on backwards. Spy noticed, and waved his hand with a chuckle.

"Think about it," He began, "we're both men who seek comfortable lives. We like our privacy. The reason you send your pay checks home? Security. Yet another goal we have in common."

"Yer just listing things every bloke is lookin' for." Sniper scoffed.

"We both seek out our purpose in life by killing men for a living." Spy continued, looking out into the snow and regarding something unseen softly.

Sniper quieted at that. His hands returned to fidgeting. Spy hung around him because he considered them alike at their core but worlds apart on the surface. And Sniper didn't know how he felt about that.

"You're a world traveling Spy. I'm sure you've met plenty'a folks just like me." Sniper returned, "I'm nothin' special. Just an average fella with the best bloody aim you've ever seen."

Finally Spy let out his laughter. It spilled forth from his throat so suddenly he covered his mouth, looking around all the while to make sure no one nearby had heard.

"How can a man be so humble and proud at once?" He bellowed, rubbing at the corner of his eye.

Sniper couldn't help smiling. If he took pride in anything it was his aim and his aim alone. He didn't regret flaunting a gift that made him who he was.

"I've never met a man like you in my life." Spy said suddenly, seriously.

Sniper snapped his gaze up, finding Spy staring at him, a gleam in his eye that made Sniper feel so vulnerable he could swear the man was reading his thoughts. There was the flutter again, and an ancient feeling he pushed down faster than he could register it.

"Well... I..." The Sniper hesitated, "I s'pose I can say the same about you."

Something was off. Something about the entire situation felt turned on its head somehow and it frustrated the Aussie to find himself lacking the words to describe it. Spy watched him process, his mind working hard to think about all that'd been said. The corners of the spy's lips quivered with the fight of a smile, and he almost wanted to reach out and tug on his hat to bring him back to Earth. Then maybe he'd rub his stubbled chin... Or caress his chee- no. The Spy's eyes snapped open again, glancing wildly to see if Sniper had caught him daydreaming. Once he was sure the other was too preoccupied with thinking, he squeezed his eyes shut when he blinked to clear out the fog. He could feel his heartbeat, and it only drove him further into worry. He was scolding himself for daring to get so imaginative when he felt a hand on his back.

He shivered, and not from the cold.

"Hey mate," Sniper said, smiling at him so very innocently, "you're alright."

Spy gazed at the railing for a moment, running the word through his head, translating it in French. Satisfied, he turned to the other and patted a firm palm on his shoulder.

"You as well amigo, I-"

[You failed! STALEMATE.]

The two of them flinched in unison as the screech of the loudspeaker interrupted, the Administrators harsh and judging voice shaming them all equally.

"Bloody hell..." Sniper groaned, "Great."

Spy too, seemed to deflate as the lines on his face grew deeper.

Neither of them had gotten much work done that day, as was the usual routine when they slacked off together and spent the hours talking. They knew they wouldn't hear the end of it for their lack of support, but at the very least they didn't have to worry about being on the front lines.

"Wait what time is it-" Sniper chimed in, lifting his arm and pulling his sleeve up to check his watch, "Hey, it's 10 till 4-"

Spy looked up at him with a spark in his eyes.

"Last match'a the day mate!" Sniper grinned, the life returning to his body knowing his shift was finally over.

Spy smiled back fondly, soaking in the happiness in Sniper's voice. He sat firmly in place while watching the taller fellow stand, stretching with all the vigor of a new man. He looked as liberated as he must have felt after such a grueling winter day. Spy's eyebrows twitched up at the several pops of his joints, he tried to fathom what a terrible job sniping must be in this weather. He smirked at the bashful way the Aussie glanced over at him, trying to play off the sounds of aging bones but making a point of them instead. Spy wanted to laugh, but thought better of it. Standing, he reached into his coat and pulled his silver disguise case from his inside pocket. Sniper was picking up his mug as Spy picked another cigarette and placed it in his mouth. The two of them stood there, staring at each other, not too sure what to say. But it was Sniper who spoke first.

He swallowed, "Say uh, mate... We're always talkin' outside n' all..." He reached up to scratch behind his scarf, "We should grab some coffee indoors sometime eh?"

Spy stared right into the pupils of his eyes, "Well," he heard his heart drumming, "Why not now?"

"We- I'm..." Sniper shoved his hands into his pockets and balled them into fists, eyes darting away, "I meant maybe when I moved back into the van- I'm in the base right now." He tried to smile.

"What about town?" Spy interrupted, terrified of his own boldness, and leaning in without realizing.

Sniper looked over and shifted his weight, his chest felt tense and welled with the same feeling he'd been constantly ignoring. But this time it seemed to be unavoidable and spilled over, draining into all of his limbs and into his face. His cheeks grew warm and he realized he must look rather pink. He hoped Spy would attribute it to the cold. The thought of the crowds of people all around them made his heart hammer harder. But he was filled with a glowing of hope that Spy had not rejected the whole thing in the first place.

"I uh- I..." He stammered, "As in, a coffee place?" He recited a string of colorful curses in his head at how dumb he sounded. Of course a coffee place you moron.

"Yes-" Spy heard himself growing enthusiastic, he wanted what was happening and he couldn't help himself. "Perhaps a nice eatery or a café." He smiled, but in his painful self awareness he tried to stifle it.

Sniper took the odd expression on his face as acknowledgment of his poor choice of words. He felt his face grow hotter. He was making a fool of himself. He chided himself mentally for even suggesting the two converse outside of work. He wondered if he was making the spy uncomfortable, they weren't exactly supposed to get along, even if there was nothing explicitly saying they couldn't. After all, his demoman and the BLU soldier hung about each other after hours, but they still fought each other just fine. The thought eased him somewhat.

"Sounds fine." Sniper smiled weakly.

"Well, shall we?" Spy smiled, putting on his usual charm and bowing with his palm beckoning the stairs.

"Ah I'm- well I'm in my work clothes." Sniper stuttered, surprised at how suddenly all of this was happening.

"But of course, we can leave around..." Spy flicked his wrist up to look at his watch, and Sniper couldn't believe it actually told the time. "6'o'clock. Don't bother eating, we may as well have dinner there."

"Uh- where?" Sniper cocked an eyebrow at him.

"Don't worry mon amie, I know just the place. We will meet by the roadside yes?" He hurried, straightening his appearance with careful fingers.

Sniper hadn't anticipated going right away. He drew his shoulders up and his fists clamped tighter. He didn't really want to travel out to town, but now he felt no choice. Spy was one of those social butterfly types who could talk to anyone when he wasn't hiding somewhere. And suddenly the differences between the men couldn't have felt more obvious. He was torn between facing the public eye and having a hot cup of caffeine with a man he enjoyed talking to. But the more he thought about it, letting the fluttering of his chest continue, the more the whole thing made him smile.

"See ya there then." He grinned hesitantly, watching as Spy nodded in return and vanished with a glittering of transparent blue.

He listened to the footsteps creep carefully down the stairs and when they grew distant his shoulders fell with a heavy sigh. Vapor clouded thickly from his lips and vanished slowly in the air. His heart felt like it wanted to slide up from his throat. Fists relaxing, he noted how sweaty his hands felt and shook his head.

He felt like a heavy sack of organs, but he couldn't stop smiling.

#tf2 #sniperspy #sniper/spy #sniper #spy #team fortress 2 #fanfiction

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