#shout out to the second time I’ve drawn Roy ever
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I made this yesterday giggling like an an idiot I come to u today with regret of making this in the first place (I’m like this with everything I make)
#dhmis#don’t hug me i’m scared#dhmis red guy#dhmis duck#dhmis yellow guy#dhmis roy#shout out to the second time I’ve drawn Roy ever#floofart#yes it’s based off of a SpongeBob shitpost#yes they are in fact at a a fancy Korean grill restaurant cuz Duck demanded it#fluffybird
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How about a salt fic about marinettes birthday?Celebrities go but none of her 'friends' turn up?
I think @unmaskedagain did a really good version on this, but I'll certainly give it a try!
---
No one came. Not a single one of her friends came.
Marinette sat there at the large table, covered to bursting with delectable treats made by her own parents' sweat and tears for their daughter's eighteenth birthday. She had worked hard decorating the room with bright and colourful streamers, only for them to be for naught. The ordered pizza had long since gone cold, and the cake, a cake that Marinette had planned so hard so that everyone would enjoy something about it, was on a small stand, wasting away.
"They're probably just late..." She murmured, staring down at her phone, watching the minutes tick by. Her parents exchanged looks as they saw their daughter barely holding it all together, her body shivering wildly and her eyes glassy from holding back the tears.
It was then Marinette heard a ding. Then another. She stared down at her cell before quickly unlocking it, opening instagram where all of the notifications were coming from. The shaky breath she took alerted her parents, before they watched their daughter fall apart before their very eyes. Marinette laid her head down on the table and cried, while Sabine hurriedly picked up the phone.
"I can't believe it." She hissed, staring down at the pictures of Marinette's friends, friends who had RVSP'd, at some sort of concert, each looking rather drunk out of their minds. "They went to a concert...?"
Tom and Sabine shot each other furious looks, before going to comfort their weeping daughter.
"Wh- what did I do wrong?" Marinette whimpered, trying her best to dash away the tears, but they just kept flowing. She sat there for the longest time, the tears silently sliding down her pale cheeks.
"Hey, how's my rock n roll niece doing on her awesome birthday?" Jagged Stone burst into the room, sliding across the floor on his knees while he mimicked playing the air guitar. His massive grin died the instant he saw Marinette's pale, tearstained face and the empty room. He frowned and rose to his feet, Penny and Fang making their way up behind him. "Hey, where is everyone?"
"They... They were too busy." Marinette sniffled, trying to wipe her tears away again, but to no avail. Her voice sounded hoarse, hollow. "But it's okay... I'm probably too old for birthday parties anyway."
"Marinette..." Sabine hugged her daughter close again, feeling helpless as her daughter once again burst into a mess of tears.
Jagged stared at the heartbroken girl, before frowning. Slowly, he got up and left the room, grumbling something about needing to make a call. When he came back, he went over and took Marinette's hands into his own.
"Well, Marinette, since all of those classmates of yours decided to go to a lame XY concert, I thought I'd invite a few people over. Clara said she'd like to see you again." Jagged wiped his niece's cheek. "Sound good, love?"
Marinette sniffled, then nodded, forcing herself to smile. She liked Clara, and Jagged had taken time out of his busy schedule to see her, she shouldn't be spending it crying over people who didn't even want to be around her.
"I'd love to see her again. Besides, we have a lot of cake to eat." She let out a shaky laugh then, feeling her mood lift a little as Fang nudged her leg. "I'm really glad you're here, Uncle Jagged."
Jagged smiled and pulled her in for a tight hug.
---
Monday was abuzz with excited whispers and everyone looking at their phones. Not that Marinette's class noticed, as they were too caught up in humming XY songs and joked about their awesome concert they went to.
"Do you guys think we forgot something this weekend?" Nino's brows drew together, unable to shove aside that feeling that something had been done.
"Who cares? Lila got us those XY tickets, I say whatever we forgot wasn't more important than that." Alya grinned and hugged Lila as they sat down. They continued chatting, but their attention was drawn to the shouts out in the hallway. They all frowned and went to check what the commotion was.
They saw Marinette was trying to make her way towards the classroom, but people kept swarming her, asking her questions, holding out their phones, hugging her tightly.
"What was it like meeting THE Oliver Queen?"
"Is Bruce Wayne as handsome as he is in his photos?"
"Marinette, I can't believe you met THE Wonder Woman!"
"What's going on?" Alya asked the student closest to them, crossing her arms as Marinette was practically swarmed.
"What? You didn't hear?" The girl looked at Alya like she was insane, before taking out her phone and holding it up to the reporter's face. "It was trending all weekend!"
Alya stared. And stared. What she saw, she just couldn't fully grasp.
It was endless photos of Marinette with different celebrities, most of them uploaded onto those celebrities' social medias, each of them wishing the young designer a happy birthday.
"We forgot about Marinette's party.." Rose whispered as dread filled her, as well as the others. Lila's eyes narrowed furiously as she saw a video of Marinette dancing with the Roy Harper, a real stud of a rich guy.
Once Marinette broke free from the crowd, she breezed right by her class without giving them a second glance, and took her seat. Many of her classmates walked up to her, offering half hearted apologies and trying to grill her for information on who all was at her party, but she simply ignored them, choosing to instead focus on her phone, and on her conversation with Roy.
"Marinette! I see you had an eventful birthday, sorry that I had to miss it, but my father was rather firm on me heading to London for that fashion show." Adrien arrived smiling brightly and handing his friend a small wrapped gift.
"It really was, I think it's best birthday I've had in a long time." Marinette noticed many of her classmates flinching at her words, but she kept smiling. "Besides you, I had everyone I could ever want at that party. It helped me realized who exactly I want in my life from now on."
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To Love Someone Like Me -- Jason Todd x Reader
I LIVE!!!
I am really sorry that I’ve not been around that much these past few months. Adjusting to big girl life has been challenging to say the least. I’m getting better, but it’ll still be some time before I get back to a regular posting schedule. Also, inspiration has been almost nonexistent since the summer ended. Now that my creative juices are flowing again, be expecting some more stories to come!
Anyway, here is the long awaited part three of my Jason Todd soulmate story! Enjoy my lovelies!!
Tagging @lovingmytelevision, @posiey, @miraisnotavailable, @soepicsokim, @epickimmie, @themortallife
WARNING! Feels ahead, siblings meddling, and Bruce being emotionally helpful. You’ve been warned.
Part One Part Two
Word Count: 1138
“I still can’t believe you found your soulmate!”
“I still can’t believe Todd has a soulmate.”
“I can’t believe it’s (Y/N) and she thinks sweet tea is God’s given gift to man! It’s so obviously coffee.”
The other three dark-haired males glared at Tim. He held his hands up in surrender and returned his gaze to the computer screen he had previously been looking over. Jason rolled his eyes at his brothers’ various remarks.
It’s not like he had planned on you being his soulmate. Sure, he was attracted to you. Your spitfire personality and quick wit had drawn the former Boy Wonder to you from day one. The way your (E/C) eyes sparkled when you smiled, the way your (H/C) hair framed your face, the way you scowled at him when he pissed you off. Jason would be crazy not to like you, but he couldn’t say the feelings were reciprocated. You had made it clear on numerous occasions of your disdain for the vigilante. Why you had such strong feelings of dislike for Jason was still baffling. The two of you had rarely interacted before Roy introduced you a few years ago. Jason had heard nothing but good things about you from the redhead and, he hoped, you had heard some good things about him too.
“I mean,” Dick continued, drawing Jason’s mind back to the conversation at hand, “you’ve known now for two months and the two of you haven’t even attempted to talk things through?”
Jason groaned in annoyance. “It’s not like (Y/N)’s made it easy on me. She couldn’t stand me before and she definitely hates me now.”
“C’mon Jay, you don’t know that!”
“Really Dick, really? Because I’ve seen how other soulmates reacted when they found each other and I’m pretty damn sure they didn’t ignore one another for two fucking months.”
“I sense a note of frustration.”
“No shit, really Tim?” Jason snarled at the caffeine addict, “How would you feel if your soulmate refused to accept you?”
Damian scoffed at the older male. “I can’t blame her. You’re not exactly first place for anyone Todd.”
Jason gritted his teeth in fury.
All his life, he had felt like no one wanted him. Like his very existence didn’t matter to anyone. Now that he had found the one person who was supposed to accept him for who he was, no questions asked, refused to do so.
That hurt Jason more than dying had .
“I think you hit a nerve Damian.” Dick mumbled to the current Boy Wonder. He gave Jason a worried look. “(Y/N) just needs time to come to terms with it. It’s a pretty big deal finding your soulmate and all.”
Tim nodded in agreement. “Dick’s right. It might just take some time for her to come around to the idea.”
“If she ever does.”
“Damian!” The oldest male scolded.
“No,” Jason’s voice came out as a soft whisper. “The demon spawn is right. What if (Y/N) never accepts me? I’m not exactly the ideal soulmate. I’m so fucked up; how could I expect anyone to love someone like me?”
The room fell to uncomfortable silence. Tim had stopped typing away at his keyboard to look at his older brother in concern. Dick also wore an expression of concern while Damian seemed to be pondering over Jason’s words.
“You shouldn’t let that stop you from pursuing this further.” Bruce’s voice suddenly spoke up from where he stood. He and Alfred had turned their attention to the four younger men at some point in their conversation. The Dark Knight had an uncharacteristically soft look on his face. “It’s human nature for people to think the worst of one another. You and (Y/N) didn’t have the best start, but that shouldn’t stop you from seeing where things go. The only thing standing in your way is you.”
Jason stood stunned at his father figure’s words. It was rare for the feared Batman to offer up advice on anything that didn’t involve their nightly activities. Bruce seemed to genuinely care about the whole situation with his second oldest son and his soulmate.
Before Jason could respond, his phone began to ring. He debated ignoring it, but something was nagging at him to answer the call. He pulled the device out and glanced at the umber. Not recognizing it, he slid his finger across the screen and placed the phone to his ear.
“Hello?”
“Jason?” The voice on the other end was shaking slightly, but he immediately recognized it. “It’s (Y/N). Do you have some time to talk?”
Jason felt his heart rate increase at those words. He glanced at his family for a moment. “Normally I’d say no since I’m about to head on patrol, but I’m sure the scum of Gotham would appreciate one less hero out tonight. Something on your mind?”
“O-oh! Well, if you’d rather go on patrol then-!”
“No!” Jason almost shouted. The dark-haired man took a calming breath and regained his composure. “No, it’s fine (Y/N). Just…say whatever it is you need to say.”
A beat of silence passed before your voice was heard again. “I…um…well, I was hoping we could talk. About the other night.”
“The other night? You mean, the night two months ago?”
“Son of a…” You huffed in frustration. “You know what I meant Jason Todd. Do you want to discuss us or not?”
A slow smirk crossed his lips. “Oh, so there’s an ‘us’ now?”
“Damn it, I knew this was a bad idea.”
“Don’t hang up!” Dick suddenly shouted at the phone. He had slowly inched his way over to Jason’s side and was listening in on the conversation. When he had gotten there, Jason wasn’t sure. He’d been so happy that you’d called to notice that everyone in the cave was staring at him intensely. “Jay is just being difficult! He’s super happy that you called!”
“Don’t tell her that!” Jason hissed at the man.
Dick ignored him and continued to talk to you. “You two should meet up and talk things through in person. We can spare him for the night, right guys?”
A chorus of affirmatives filled the air. Jason glared at all of them, silently grateful for their help but not about to show it.
“I-I’d like that.” You replied. “When…uh, when and where?”
“How about the place where you guys figured everything out?” Tim offered. He was also now by Jason’s side. A mischievous grin planted on his face. “Seems like a good place to start things off, doesn’t it?”
“Alright. Can you be there tonight say around eight?”
“He’ll be there~!” Dick sang.
After saying good bye, Jason hung up and sighed heavily. He glared at those assembled in the cave.
“I hate all of you.”
Translation? Thank you so much.
#dc#dc comics#dc comics i#soulmate#soulmate au#soulmate fic#jason todd#jason todd x reader#jason todd imagine#red hood#red hood x reader#red hood imagine#reader insert#feels#brotherly love#family support#bruce wayne#bruce being a good dad#i-write-what-i-want#requested#request#long timecoming#meddling#part three
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Que chel sarà sarà Pt 2
Si nonno, E’fatto!” (Yes papa, it’s done!) I called from the kitchen. I had arrived in Como three days ago, arriving early to prep the house for my friends. They were scheduled to arrive later this afternoon, and I had insisted my grandparents leave before they got here, but they were determined to at least meet the people who were going to be living in their home. “Y/N Le stanze sono preparate? (Are the rooms prepared?)” I heard Nonna ask, as she walked into the kitchen. I had been peering over the small planner I brought with, trying to finish up the schedule I had been arranging.
I looked up from my work and nodded, giving her a soft smile, “Si nonna, le cameriere lo hanno fatto stamattina (the maids took care of it this morning),” I told her. She smiled and walked over giving me a kiss on the head. She then grabbed my hand and pulled me towards the french doors that lead towards one of the many patios overlooking the lake. We sat down on her favorite porch swing, the green cushion smelling of her jasmine perfume. She sat and held my hand before turning to look at me.
She brushed her soft hands over my face and gave a stern frown, faking discipline. “Now y/n, la mia piccola stella,( My little star)” she said, “Do not go causing any trouble or do any damage to this house. Your nonno may be easy going on his belongings but me, not so much,” she warned. I laughed lightly, “Si nonna, I would never be so reckless,” I told her, slightly teasing.
“Ms. Sophia, two cars have just entered the estate, I believe it is Ms. Y/N’s guests,” Antonio, one of the butlers announced. “Ahh finally!” Nonna said excitedly, “It’s about time I met the American riff raff you call friends,” she joked. I laughed lightly, hoping that she wouldn’t embarrass me in front of everyone.
Ashton’s POV
“You guys, this is fucking insane,” Roy said dramatically. We had been in the car for almost an hour now, having landed in Milan about two hours ago. We definitely weren’t expecting two massive limousines to be waiting for us on the tarmac. We had split ourselves into two cars, me, Michael, Crystal, Mariah, Roy, Brian, Lindsey, Kayla, Brianna in one car and Luke, Calum, Sierra, Andrew, Carmella, Bryana, Anne Marie and Mitchy were in the other one.
I was staring out of the window in awe of the countryside, everything was so vibrant and beautiful. Kind of like Y/N. I blushed realizing that I was thinking of her again. I was a goner the second I met her at Brian’s first solo show, he introduced the two of us and we became friends in an instant. Of course I was drawn to her, she was so full of love and light and just had the most beautiful eyes and outlook on the world. I’m hoping that this trip will give me a chance to tell her how I really feel.
“Ladies and gentlemen, if you look to your right, you will see the Magedino Estate,” the driver told us through the partition. Everyone turned to stare out my window and we all gasped. “Holy shit,” Kayla stated. The place was ginormous, it looked like a fucking palace. You could catch glimpses of the lake behind the house, but in all honesty my eyes were too focused on the size of the place to really notice. “You know I’m startin to get a little suspicious of this girl,” Crystal teased, “what else isn’t she telling us.”
We felt the car stop for a moment, listening to the chauffeur murmur into an intercom outside the gates. Within moments we had stopped once more, only this time we stood outside the front doors, in what appeared to be a courtyard. The other limo had opened its doors and the others had come to stand beside us. We all stood, staring the fortress-like house in awe. The doors to the house suddenly flung open, and a line of people in red and white uniforms all lined the steps to the house.
A tall and elegant gentleman appeared in the doorway, and made confident strides down the steps. He looked like a god, a tall and glowing man with slicked back silver hair and a bold smile. “IT’S A YOUNG ROB DE NIRO,” Lindsey shouted quietly, causing Mitchy to elbow her.
“Welcome children!” the man said, “I am Carmen, welcome to the family home,” he gestured with his arms wide open. “Don’t worry about your belongings, the staff will take care of them for you. Please follow me inside,” he explained. We followed him in, definitely not expecting the sight.
We walked into a grand foyer, footed with marble floors and massive white pillars that held the ceiling up high. A grand staircase that split on two sides above a set of french doors. We were escorted through the staircase doors, and lead down a hallway until we were lead into a living room.
There was a woman sitting on a small sofa facing the massive floor length windows. She turned at the sound of our footsteps. “Carmen!,” exclaimed “I’m so glad you found our guests, bring them in!” We all gathered around the long coffee table, each of us taking seat on a sofa or couch that was elegantly arranged. You could see a portion of the lake outside the window, spanning from the docks on the estate to the foothills of the Alps. “Y/N will be down in a moment, we just wanted to get a good look at her friends, she hardly ever mentions anything about you all,” the woman said. I assumed she was Y/N’s gramma, they had that same twinkle in their eyes.
“Thank you very much for allowing us to stay Mr and Mrs. Magedino, it’s very kind of you,” Crystal said. “It’s our pleasure dear, I don’t know why that girl is so keen on keeping people out of here, we love guests!” Carmen said. A man suddenly walked through the doors, announcing that the couple’s car for the trip to the pier was here. The couple leapt up from their seats excited. “Come come will walk you to the main room and say goodbye to Y/N,” she said.
We followed them through more hallways until we arrived in another room facing the lakes. Only this time, a massive portrait of a young girl hung above the fireplace. Another long staircase branched out from the wall, Carmen moving towards the steps to call up. “ Y/N, ce me stiamo andando!” ( We are leaving!) he shouted. Seconds later she appeared.
I practically lost my breathe, she was stunning. Her hair cascaded across her shoulder and a long blue dress covered her beautiful figure. She looked like an angel. “Si nonno, I could hear your footsteps the second you passed the conservatory, who could ignore the sound of a mighty god walking on marble?” she teased, causing her grandparents to laugh. “We will be home in three weeks time, Donatella and her team will arrive two weeks from today to help you get fitted for The Luce Stellare Gala,” Sophia told her. Y/N nodded and kissed both of them goodbye, softly closing the door behind them.
She turned around and gave us a massive grin causing all of us to smile. “Well,” she started, “glad that’s out of the way!” We all laughed. “C’mon I’ll lead you outside and we chat about all the wondrous things I have planned for you all.” We followed her through another hallway, until we came across a set of stained glass doors where two doormen stood waiting. Y/N gave them a wave and they promptly whisked the doors open.
The view was unbelievable. It was like something out of a movie. You could see a small island in the middle of the lake, while our side of the shore was lined with resorts and other private homes, and across from us stood the Swiss Alps. “Y/N,” Luke said, “this is fucking incredible, how on Earth could you ever keep a place like this hidden?” he asked incredulously. We turned and saw her sitting at a long dining table, arranged with all sorts of fruits and pastas. She motioned for us to come and sit, winking at me before patting the arm of the seat next to her
“To answer your question Lu,” she said, “This was always my escape as a child. When my parents got too obnoxious or I felt that the world was crashing down, I simply called for a plane to bring me here. It’s a bit spoiled, I’m well aware, but this is the one place where I’ve always felt I can be at peace. I don’t have to hide my family’s name and wealth, I don’t have to be scared of strangers taking my photo or harassing my friends. This is a place where none of that matters. But I’m so glad that I’ve decided to share it with you,” she told us, all of us smiling. “Now,” she paused, “let’s eat!”
#5sos blurb#5sos imagine#ashton irwin#calum hood#michael clifford#luke hemmings#crystal leigh#lindsey demeola#roy english
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The Unknowns: Two
This is a continuation for The Unknowns. Which was a one shot and is now a long ass Prologue. Part One.
Dean x Psychic!reader
Teaser/Summary: An AU sparked from a songfic challenge, The Unknowns is based on Season One Episode Nine, Dean met reader in Lawrence as a child and they created an unbreakable bond. At the end of The Unknowns, reader decided to stick with her boys because she felt something coming but she holds secrets; one she holds close to her heart and a few that she doesn’t even really know yet.
Word count: 6686
Lines borrowed from season one episode twelve, “Faith” in Bold.
The drive was quiet for the boys but their emotions were tumultuous even though they were trying to control it. Fortunately, baby always had a hypnotic effect on me, humming me to sleep when I truly needed it.
Fingers brushed over my cheek then my lips, the sensations pulled me from a dreamless rest. Dean smiled, his eyes echoing things churning inside me. He was getting worse but that familiar warmth still lit up and swirled at his touch.
He kissed me but it was too soft and too quick. I groaned and he chuckled, “we’re here. Sam’s waiting out in the mud.”
I sat up and looked out the front windshield as Dean opened the door. “I thought we were going to some special cardiac hospital?”
Dean climbed out and smirked as he held out his hand for me. “Yeah, apparently specialist doesn’t always mean doctor.”
I took his hand and climbed out then Dean laced our fingers together. Dean and Sam bickered as we made our way to the tent but I was too consumed by the heaviness hovering in the air to listen. I tried to pinpoint the source but the cloud cover only seemed to enhance it, bouncing it back down on the tent and mud.
The house nearby was surrounded by a flickering darkness. Shadows played off every corner as if the house itself were a black hole merely pretending to be an inviting object. It sent a shiver down my spine and Dean squeezed my hand.
We had stopped walking and I had twisted so far to continue studying the house that my arm ached. Like always, Dean had kept a hold of me, grounding me without derailing my perusal. I turned around and caught Dean’s glance, his brows drawn together before he looked forward with a tilt of his head. I followed his gaze to a pretty blonde woman in front of us. “Layla, this is Y/n.”
“Hi. It’s nice to meet you.” She stuck out her hand and I shook it bracing for the worst but I was surprised. She was so calm, like a tranquil lake on a beautiful day.
I gave her a genuine smile, “you too. Sorry, I was just off in my own world.”
“A nicer day than this, I hope.” I never quite believed it when I met a genuine optimist like the woman in front of me. She was dying but she was happy in her place, there was a hope there, a sense that everything had its time and reason. Not exactly someone I would associate with a faith healer in the middle of nowhere but then I’m a little biased. The tent revival scene reminded me way too much of cults and all that Jim Jones kool aid shit was terrifying.
“Thank you.”
“Come on, Layla, it’s about to start.” An older woman wrapped her arm around Layla and flashed a fake smile at us while turning her away. She still managed to smile kindly before allowing the older woman to lead her off.
“You okay?” Dean turned toward me squeezing my upper arms as he studied my face. Sam too but he looked away when Dean hugged me. His mouth brushing my ear, “we can leave, you just say the word. I’d rather spend a little time with just you in a bed somewhere.”
I glanced at the house and squeezed him, “we are in no condition for that kind of vigorous activity.”
His chuckle vibrated against my chest, “just because I want you naked, doesn’t mean we have to do any heavy lifting.” The image flickered to life in my head, the two of us skin to skin just talking and basking in the heightened sensation that swelled whenever we were together like that. We never could figure out a word for it, sometimes Dean joked that it was a high and that it was all in our heads. I once thought it might just be in mine.
I looked up at him and brushed my fingers over his lips, “I would love nothing more but if we don’t try…” That twinge in my chest again that only reminded me how exhausted I was but Dean kissed me and I fell into his distraction.
He pulled back with a cheeky smile but his eyes were far too tired to complete it. “Where’s that fearless woman that faced an ancient nature God to save my sorry ass?”
I pressed my hand to his heart and felt its sluggish pumps as it tried valiantly to keep blood circulating like normal but physically wasn’t up to the task. My heart kicked, pumping harder in response. Dean was always different for me, I could always feel more when it came to him but this was on a completely different level. I finally looked up into his sleepy gaze, “Sam and I can cut some ropes and burn down a tree. But this… “ I closed my eyes as his grief and guilt ricocheted through me.
He pressed his forehead to mine, his voice barely a whisper filled with a sadness that gave a different weight to the words I’d heard so many times, “best friends forever.”
I stared into his eyes with a surge of energy swirling in my chest that I shoved his way. I had to have hope, I couldn’t let him go. “And ever.”
His eyes lit up and Sam tapped my shoulder. “Sorry, but we should get inside.” Dean grabbed my hand and started forward as Sam fell into step just behind me. “What did you see?”
I glanced at Sam, “the tent and the house… It’s like things I’ve seen before but different. It’s weird.”
“You can say that again.” Dean stepped inside the tent and I glanced back again before entering.
The atmosphere was a lot like a hospital or cheap clinic with the same emotions and scents except for that sterile component, the cleaning agents that gave a sharp orange or bleach tang that permeated the air. This was more field hospital but even that was putting it gently. Sure, no one was outright bleeding but the tinge of blood was there. Maybe that was just me. Sam and Dean didn’t seem bothered by it and it was too strong for them not to be.
I glanced around feeling the heavy darkness even more to an almost stifling point. Dean squeezed my hand again and I met his gaze. He was concerned. The man was dying and he was concerned about me. “It’s okay… sort of.”
Sam pulled us to the front, kindly asking a few people in the second row to move down filling an empty seat on the other side so the three of us could sit directly in front. I was surprised once again by the kindness the people showed until I spotted the woman with Layla sitting right front of us frowning at Sam. I sat beside him doing my best not to glare right back at the woman as Dean took the seat on the end and leaned against me. “What is it?”
“I don’t know. Something’s off.” I whispered very aware of Layla’s companion watching me from the corner of her eye.
“Tell me something I don’t know.”
I was too nervous to take Dean’s bait and worried my bottom lip between my teeth. Dean’s thumb was rubbing mine in a soothing motion when Roy La Grange began his sermon and my roaming gaze paused on the table behind him. Sam nudged my arm and tilted his head indicating the very table I was just studying.
I leaned into Sam, “Coptic cross. A little old school for a revival tent.”
Sam nodded and I caught another scathing look from what I could only guess was Layla’s mother. I could slap that woman without regret if it wasn’t for the desperation that wafted off her like the cheap perfume and cologne others were using to mask the scent of impending death.
Dean mumbled a sarcastic remark and I flinched throwing him a disapproving look as I squeezed our joined hands.
Roy called him out, playing to the crowd with a clever and lighthearted reply. My stomach flipped. Dean’s hand tightened in mine as he shifted in his seat. The man was going to call him up but for some reason, I didn’t want him to go. It was crazy, it wouldn’t do any harm but there was a tug of war inside me. Dean’s agitation and slight panic only provoked both sides to pull harder. Sam’s hope surged forward and my head began to throb.
“I want you to come up here with me.”
I turned wide eyes on Dean but his gaze dropped as he shook his head. Roy continued trying to draw Dean up as the crowd encouraged him and emotions were slamming into me from all sides. The filters and blocks I learned to put in place at the age of six so I wasn’t overwhelmed were second nature but ever since waking up in the hospital it was like a dance I knew but my steps were clunky and stiff and not quite right.
I looked at the man who claimed to be a healer and focused on him while shutting out everything else.
Roy replied to Dean, “I didn’t pick you, Dean, the Lord did.”
Dean’s gaze was on me and I could almost hear him shouting for my opinion, my direction. I met his gaze and whispered the only thing I knew for sure, “he truly believes every word he said.”
Sam told him to go and I withdrew my hand from his, immediately cold at his loss yet the tug from two sides continued. I followed him with my gaze and listened to his conversation with Roy then his gaze sought mine again as Roy called the room to pray.
It started slow and quiet, a hissing just beyond my perception but loud enough along the periphery. I grasped Sam’s hand and he squeezed back but not because he heard it too. No, he thought I had hope, I could feel his own warming my hand and swelling in my chest but the feeling creeping along my skin was so far removed from that. The healer’s hand pressed to Dean’s head and the cold from Dean’s loss was replaced with a heavier dry chill, it slithered up my spine until it settled at the base of my neck and pulsed.
I gasped as Dean fell to his knees and a man appeared, old and decrepit. My chest convulsed and I squeezed Sam’s hand shouting for help but unable to actually vocalize it. Dean fell back as the heavy chill washed over me and I was frozen staring at the old man, the thing glaring over my head before turning that look on Dean. It was frustrated and angry, the emotions were coming off it in waves charging the air around it.
Sam moved around me and rushed up to Dean but I couldn’t move, I was physically stuck in the chair by the freezing weight still on me. The old man finally turned and disappeared. I drank in as much air as I could and threw up every block I knew to shield myself.
Dean sat up, his wild gaze flitting around before landing on me. His stare uneasy and confused but I knew without a doubt, he saw the old man too.
A few hours later, Dean was holding me against him skin to skin in the small motel bed while Sam was snoring in the neighboring one. Neither of us had discussed what had been on that stage. Sam had been so elated that things were different, in a good way for a change, that we didn’t want to burden him. At least not until we knew for sure what was going on. When we got into the room, Dean had made an appointment with a doctor in town for the next morning and we silently made a pact to keep it between us.
His fingers had been brushing through my hair for the last hour and hadn’t stalled at all. There was a newfound energy there but he thought it was tainted, he felt guilty. I may not have the ability to read thoughts per se but I knew him maybe better than I knew myself.
I stroked Dean’s chest as the day’s events ran through my head again, “he truly felt you were picked by God. That was real belief, even if you hadn’t made that remark, he would have picked you. When he patted me on the back when we left, he whispered ‘two for one’.”
“He thought you’d kill yourself if I died or something?” He pulled me impossibly closer as the thought itself frightened him. One of his greatest fears was hurting those he loved. He might already be blaming himself for something that never happened.
“I don’t know. All the odd sensations I felt, none of them came from him. He was… light. There was nothing different about him, nothing I wouldn’t expect. This is all very real for him and I think he would be devastated if he knew that something twisted was happening each time he healed. It doesn’t make any sense.”
He squeezed me and kissed the top of my head. “We’ll figure it out.” The heaviness in his statement settled upon my chest and I nuzzled into him.
“I can’t be sorry he saved you. I can’t regret that. I don’t regret coming here.” From the moment we left that tent, I had felt ten times better and it was more than just the loss of the exhaustion, it was the reversal of whatever was breaking apart deep inside me.
“It’ll be better tomorrow. After some sleep.” But he didn’t believe a word of it. He was afraid and maybe felt like he was on borrowed time that would be ripped away at any moment. I knew that feeling even though I had never been so close to death but it was an impression I had never been able to fully erase from my memory. No matter how good I thought I was at leaving things in the past, some things refuse to be forgotten.
“Dean…” I pushed up so I could look him in the eye.
He gave me a lopsided grin and touched my cheek like I was something delicate which meant that he felt fragile, “I know I don’t need to lie. I just wanted to calm you.” There was a peace that passed between us and I knew he could feel it but Dean Winchester would always be the protector.
“I’m with you.” I kissed him because there was no need for any more words.
~~
Two familiar quiet voices coaxed me into consciousness. Dean and Sam were whispering near the end of the bed. I blinked away the lingering sleep and murmured, “are you guys leaving already?”
Dean walked over and sat on the edge of the bed, “you sure you don’t want to come?”
It was tempting, he did feel better this morning. His energy was bright and spinning. “I think I’ll take the airport instead of another trip to a hospital and Rev Roy’s.”
Dean leaned down and kissed me, lingering a little longer than a usual morning. His guilt still weighed heavy on his shoulders but wasn’t as present as last night. I grabbed the back of his neck as he started to pull away, “it’s not your fault. We were supposed to come here. I know it.”
His eyes flicked back and forth then he kissed me again. “Best friends forever,” He whispered, dipping his fingers below the sheet teasing light touches at the top of my chest. I was reminded just how naked I was under that thin material. He flashed that knowing smile and pulled the sheet up.
“And ever.” His antics were refreshing. A reminder that he was still alive and still my Dean.
Sam smiled from the open door and gave me a small wave before walking away. I sat up holding the sheet to my chest as Dean grabbed the doorknob pulling the door with him. He stopped with a final look in my direction, “I’ll see you soon.”
“No stupid moves without me.”
“Never.”
He pulled the door closed and I searched for the cold residual in my chest from yesterday whenever he let go of my hand. It wasn’t there but there was something else that I couldn’t remember noticing before, not consciously anyway, but I felt him moving away. At least, for a while.
I shook it off as I checked my phone then walked into the bathroom for a quick shower. I never lingered on things I couldn’t explain just like I learned at a young age to never stay angry because life was far too short and no one ever knew when their time was up.
Mary taught me that. My father reinforced it.
I turned the water on with my mind still spinning. I went back to the small table between the beds and turned on the radio, flicking through stations before finding the right one and raising the volume.
I had an epiphany of sorts at the ripe age of twelve that if something was meant to be known and understood, it would continue to occur until it revealed itself. If I badgered myself with every little mystery that popped up, I would likely go insane in a very literal sense. I’ve found things have a way of working themselves out and the answer usually comes to me when I’m thinking of something completely different. But I still needed a little help to get my mind off the unknowns sometimes and Dean usually came up with the best distractions but music worked.
I headed back into the bathroom humming along to the music and stepped into the warm water.
~~
Pamela’s plane was right on time and as I waited in baggage claim, I noticed how quiet it was. Even with all the people around me and the high emotions that usually dwelled in an airport, my blocks were working perfectly. I watched as a man knelt to catch the two shouting kids racing toward him and the woman who walked behind them. I focused on her and the emotions bloomed in my chest like a bouquet; joy, relief, and a burst of love.
Love was a surprisingly difficult thing for me to understand as a child because it wasn’t what I felt when I looked at my family and even Dean when I first started to see it. The mixture of emotions and the way that it could come out of the blue multiple times a day. Pamela was the one who finally explained to me that love came in many forms and anyone could feel it but if I listened to my heart I would know it. She didn’t actually mean my physical heart but an intuition I didn’t understand yet. At the time, my heart wasn’t shaped like the real muscle that kept me alive but the shape I drew on paper and it controlled all emotions. It was my version of schoolhouse rock: psychic session.
Of course, as I got older I learned how truly confusing love could be for adults. I found it hilarious that I thought I could fully understand it as a child. Love was something that grew and evolved not only as you grow up but also as you learn more about others.
Her bubbly forest green energy sparked like a firework and I turned around. Pamela rushed toward me with her arms open and embraced me in a tight hug.
“I missed you.”
“You too, hon. Let’s get out of here. Way too noisy.” She shifted her duffle bag’s strap and headed directly for the exit with her arm around my back, “are you hungry? Because I’m starving.”
I had the cab driver drop us off at a mom and pop burger place near the motel and scanned the menu for something edible for Sam.
“Why don’t we order our food and eat here so we can talk and then order for the boys after?”
I glanced at Pamela and caught the gleam in her eye. She knew what I was just barely avoiding. “Okay.” We ordered then sat at a table by the front window.
“Am I going to have to pull it out of you or are you just going to ask?”
I fiddled with the napkin on the table, “what did you mean by it’s not possible?”
“Not playing it safe, huh?” She waited until I met her gaze and she examined my face. “It’s what you were describing with Dean. It sounds a lot like something our people used to do way back.”
“Our people?”
“Psychics, Witches, Pagans, Druids, whatever name tag you want to put on it. Back before vows and all that, we bonded. We felt so deeply that we sealed our souls. But things changed and where we once bonded without ceremony, a ritual had to be done to even get it. There are debates about why but when it came down to it, the bond just didn’t happen as much or as easily as it once did. I barely even heard of them just because of how drastic it can be when that bond breaks. I’ve always been on the side of the argument that we stopped bonding for survival purposes. But you know me, I’ve never met anyone who gave enough for that kinda thing.” She grinned and bounced her brows. She and Dean had a very similar playful side that always came out with serious subjects.
“Sealed our souls?”
She grasped my hand and her calm seeped into me, “if you felt… those things while he was dying, you’ve connected with him in a different way, like the connection you had with your dad but this one is much stronger. I always knew you two were very close but I never thought you could’ve created a bond like this. I guess I told myself you didn’t know the ritual, not even thinking about how it was done before them.” She took hold of my other hand, “a bonded soul is serious, not just the power it creates but the toll it takes. Have you ever felt the change when he enters the room or is just nearby? The difference inside?”
My gaze shot up from our joined hands to her questioning eyes. I opened my mouth but nothing came out. I nodded.
“Those pains you felt were probably some of his, his soul connected to yours not just sharing the burden but your body was aching because his soul was losing power, his body losing its ability to sustain life. They were echoes. You probably felt them before with other emotions or feelings and just didn’t know it was different from your ability.”
I dropped my gaze down to our hands, focusing on the energies passing between us and swirling together. “I… he…” All I could think about was how much better I had felt when we were touching and the cold weakness that flooded me when we weren’t but I felt fine now. I closed my eyes and thought about him and felt a flare of heat in my chest. I somehow knew he was nearby, probably not the motel because it wasn’t that close.
I opened my eyes and stared into Pamela’s intense green gaze. She smiled and rubbed her thumb over the back of my hand. “But… we were separated for a year and I never felt any… there was nothing wrong.”
“Honey, have you ever felt… let down by him?”
“I’ve been disappointed and mad. We were separated because he let his dad talk him into keeping us apart with some safe distance bullshit.”
Something crossed her face but she quickly refocused, “but did you ever question your relationship? Question that he wasn’t yours?”
I thought for a moment, about the last year where we only traded texts every now and then but never spoke unless he had drunk dialed. I had pissed off my mother leaving college after only two years but he let his dad get into his head. He never had to say it because I knew it was John and I should’ve seen it coming when we met up that day and his dad was there. I know John used his greatest fear against him but even though we were separated and I was angry with Dean’s decision, I also knew that if I truly needed him, he would be there.
It wasn’t the first time John had taken him away from me. We were seven years old when John decided to leave Lawrence. When I found out what heartbreak was.
“He won’t let us hunt with him. Maybe your mom will let us stay.”
“He won’t leave you behind. He wants to find more but… he won’t leave you, he loves you with everything he is. You’re all he has left.”
“I don’t want to leave you.”
“I’ll still see you.”
“Can you… feel that?”
“No. I just know it. You know my number. You can call anytime.”
“But I won’t get to see you.”
I touched his chest, felt his heart punching my hand. “I’ll be right here always. Don’t roll your eyes. It’s rude.” I smiled but I couldn’t keep it up.
He laughed but it didn’t last as long as I wanted it to. I was trying so hard to remember all the things I would miss.
He grabbed my hand, “when will I see you again?”
“You know I don’t know but it won’t be too long. I’ll make sure of it.”
Our hands came together then pressed to our lips as we stared into each other’s eyes knowing it was truth.
It was the one simple truth we had since we were kids. “Dean is the one thing I’ve had faith in since I was five years old. He’ll never let me down.” Then something else hit me, “there’ve been times… a lot of times when I thought about him, focused on him and I… I could feel him, his energy but I always thought it was just… wishful thinking. Is that… could that be part of it? Even though I had no idea where he was?”
I met Pamela’s gaze and her eyes were shining, “you’ve chosen your soulmate and bound with him. That’s so much more than marriage. If either one of you dies,” her brows drew together and she lost that soft look as her gaze fell to the table for a few seconds, “what you felt with your father will be nothing compared to the loss of this connection.” She met my gaze with a seriousness that she rarely wore. “I’m always straight with you and you will lose a piece of yourself. Some never recover from that loss. That’s why I believe they stopped it but you two are strong and that bond will make you stronger together. That’s the good news.” Her face softened, “I know I may have been worried but that’s just because I care about you, honeybee. You’ve had this for years and never worried because you know yourself and you know him. There’s nothing to be afraid of. I’m sorry that I gave you that.”
“Right. No, it’s okay. ” I dropped my gaze to the table trying to file away the information she was giving while staying grounded at the same time.
“How was he pulled back from the brink of death anyway?”
I latched onto her change of subject gratefully. “A faith healer. The boys are looking into it now. The man fully believes that he is doing God’s will but the darkness that I saw around where he does it, the atmosphere inside his tent…” I thought back to the tent and the stage. “The smell of blood in the air, the feel of death. It was just wrong, you know?”
“Wait, what was that symbol you were just thinking of?”
I smirked, “I thought you didn’t read my mind to give me privacy?”
“You were shouting.”
“A Coptic cross. There was one on this table behind him.”
“Well, that’s getting somewhere. Old Egyptian cross in a house tainted with blood and death? Sounds like some good old death wrangling to me.”
“What?”
“And you claim to be from the country?”
“Just because I grew up in Kansas…”
She laughed, “oh honey, I missed you.” She leaned forward and brushed the back of her fingers over my cheek just like my dad always did. A hint of nostalgia swept through me as her smile softened, “your daddy would’ve been so proud of you.”
“Thanks.” I looked away trying to ignore John’s voice in a corner of my mind. You have to know he was worried about you being with a hunter. He knew what was at the end for us and he didn’t want that for you. I don’t want that for you.
“Two burger baskets for two beautiful ladies.” A tall dark haired man in an apron carried over two baskets and smiled at Pamela the whole way. Pamela watched me with worry twisting her sharp features but I shook my head dispelling John’s unnecessary concern.
She turned to the man and put on her best smile. “Well sugar, if you cook as well as you look, I may just stay in town for another night.”
I laughed silently as the man placed the baskets down and leaned toward her whispering something in her ear. She winked at me then rattled off the order for the boys, getting Sam’s tastes right down to the salad dressing. “We’ll need those to go and your number with it.”
I shook my head and picked up the burger. If there was one thing I was sure Pamela Barnes would never do, it would be tying herself to one man or woman for the rest of her life. She thought it was a shame not to try all of God’s delicacies. I wouldn’t mind at all if Dean was the only man I ever loved, actually, I preferred it.
~~
Pamela shared a few stories of recent clients during the short walk to the motel and I had felt so much lighter after talking with her. When we crossed the parking lot, we were hit by a wave of frustrated tension and I knew it was Dean. I stopped in front of our motel door and inserted the key with a pulse in the back of my head. Dean’s raised voice vibrated outward with hot waves of guilt and I connected with Pamela’s gaze.
“He’s taking it well.”
I opened the door and stepped inside. Sam sat at the small table, his laptop open in front of him and Dean stood only a few feet from the door. “I brought sustenance.” I lifted the bag of takeout boxes. It felt lame with the tension that made the room feel even smaller.
Dean strode to me, his arms wrapping around me almost instantly. I closed my eyes, the bag was pulled from my hand, and I slipped my arms around his middle as his need slammed into me.
“You couldn’t have chosen a finer specimen. I mean damn, you two just keep getting better looking. I’m jealous, seriously.” Pamela walked around us and moved further into the room. “Hey, short stack. Well, well, someone has definitely earned a new nickname.”
“Hey, Pamela. You’re a sight for sore eyes.”
“We got here just in time, I see.”
Sam chuckled, “you always did have amazing timing.”
I pulled away slightly to look up into Dean’s eyes. “Hey,”
He kissed me, cutting off any words for his benefit. I didn’t mind because I knew it was just as well this way. A lot of times we were better without words muddling things.
“So, did you get reaper yet?” I barely heard Pam over the need and struggle coming from Dean. “Oh, you boys were figuring it out but we’ve got other things to discuss.”
Dean pulled back but didn’t release me. His eyes flicked between mine then he whispered, “does this have to do with what you were going through? That thing I felt when I touched you?”
“You felt it too?”
“Of course, he would. One of the perks of the bond.” Pamela added as if it was completely natural to be able to overhear whispering from across the room.
Dean’s brow furrowed and he turned to her snaking his hand down to mine and lacing our fingers together. “Perks of what?”
“Like I said, we’ve got other things to discuss.”
Sam stood next to Pamela in front of the table glancing between Dean and me before looking back at Pamela. “You’re not saying Dean has a bond with a reaper, are you?”
He looked so lost and it was a relief that not everyone could hear us whispering. There were way too many things whispered around him that I would never want him to hear. Dean probably wouldn’t mind though. “With me, Sam. Dean and I sealed our souls, not exactly sure on how or when… but I was feeling that sick because Dean was dying and it was affecting me because of this… bond.”
Sam’s eyes widened and Dean looked down at me searching my face, “two for one?”
I nodded and Dean released my hand then changed his mind and grabbed it tighter. His free hand rubbed his jaw as he looked away. My own anxiety blocked outside noise and my stomach churned.
“Why don’t you two take a seat.” Pamela brought a chair over toward the beds and sat down.
I pulled Dean over to the bed we slept on the night before seeking the comfort I found there. Sam was still staring at Dean and me, his mouth slightly ajar.
Pamela smiled at him, “you’re welcome to sit, short stack.” Sam glanced at her and she shrugged, “until I find a new one.” He shuffled back over to his seat.
Pamela went through the same information she gave me while I focused on Dean’s hand in mine with my stomach in knots. I was memorizing all the things I would miss again.
There would never be a doubt in my mind about what we had done but with the life we led, it was difficult to gauge how Dean would feel about it. He loved me with everything in him but his greatest fear conflicted with the idea that his death would hurt me so physically.
Pamela got to the part about how death would tear a part from the other and I winced. Dean would never want to knowingly hurt me. He’s gone out of his way to protect me, to an annoying degree at times, ever since we were kids.
We never talked about marriage or any of that kind of thing so how could he want a bond like this? It’s not like we even knew that we did it, I didn’t even understand the extent of our connection and who knew if there was a way to disconnect it if he didn’t want it.
“No.” I jerked my head up and looked into Dean’s eyes. The smallest shake of his head and he pressed his free hand to the side of my face, “you know better than that.”
I stared in confusion and the corner of his mouth quirked up. Relief rushed through my muscles as his thumb brushed over my cheekbone then moved down to my jawline. He tilted my head up just a bit higher and grinned, “best friends forever.”
His relief swept through me as I answered, “and ever.”
That night on the roof and what followed shortly after we went back inside flashed into the front of my mind. The feel of his hands on me, the words we whispered as we connected in a way we never had before, and the lingering feeling after that always erased any worry. That was the night that old childhood saying of ours changed into a declaration of a different kind. It had to be that night that created the seal or bond but why didn’t we notice the difference then? Were we really so lost in everything that came with it? The heat rushed through me then his arousal twisted my stomach in a completely different way.
The look in his eyes darkened and he leaned down toward my mouth.
“Are they always like this? Because, hot damn.”
I glanced at Pamela, she was fanning herself while looking at Sam who only chuckled nervously in response with his eyes glued to his computer.
Dean kissed me but not like either of us truly wanted then cleared his throat, “so how do we take out the reaper?”
Pamela grinned, “you don’t, Chachi. You either break the control or take out the one who wrangled it.”
“Okay, then.”
“Wait, Dean, we can’t just take out Roy,” Sam argued.
“It’s not Roy.” I met Sam’s gaze, “he believes he has a gift from God and he… he was supposed to heal Dean. Even if Dean didn’t say anything, he knew we’d sit there and he told me two for one like he somehow knew that I would be… lost.” I cleared my throat, “it’s not Roy.”
“Well, I’ve never been a full believer in the man upstairs but I’ve seen enough to know there are a number of Gods at play in this universe. If Roy was tapped for this job I doubt he knows anything about the reaper. Someone close to him is your best bet.” Pamela met my gaze but only smiled. Her giddiness almost made me laugh.
“He’s got at least two assistants besides his wife that have full access to his house and that tent. They helped him to and from the tent yesterday. I just figured they were bodyguards with the way they were surrounding him but maybe one of them thinks a little too highly of their boss.” Sam was tapping away on the laptop probably trying to find more information but that wasn’t something they’d advertise.
“Someone with knowledge of early Coptic church ways. Find the spell caster and get a hold of whatever they’re using to summon and control. There are a few different ways and unless you know who the spell was originally created by, there’s no way to know what the control is.”
Sam gaped at Pamela from over his laptop. “I can call you whenever I get stuck on something like this again, right?”
“Awe, darling, you sure know how to compliment a woman.”
“So, we go to the next sermon and figure it out before someone else dies.” Dean threw out.
Pamela looked at me raising her hands, “I got a hot date so I’m going to have to pass.”
I smiled, “we wouldn’t make you go. We can handle this. Are you still leaving in the morning?”
She wiggled her brows, “depends on how well tonight goes.”
I was going to push but remembered she knew what she was doing and had a friend with demon experience helping. My gaze flicked to Sam and another flare of guilt kicked around in my stomach. Dean squeezed my hand and I looked up at him with questions distracting me, “why did you say no? How could you…”
He smiled as he leaned down, “I don’t have to be a mind reader to know you.” He gave me a quick kiss that left me warm and wanting so much more. He grinned with those laughing eyes knowing exactly what he was doing. “We’ve got work to do.”
“You know those echoes can happen at other moments. Have you experienced any during…” I snapped my head toward Pamela and she grinned, “hot damn indeed.”
Part Three
@duchessofwinchester , @jodyri , @jencharlan , @deanssweetheart23 @torn-and-frayed , @chrisatplay , @mogaruke , @captainemwinchester , @ashrod98 , @mrswhozeewhatsis , @purgatoan , @caitsymichelle13 , @escabell
#spn#supernatural#spn fanfic#spn fanfiction#spn fan fic#Supernatural Fan Fiction#supernatural fanfiction#Supernatural fanfic#supernatural fan fic#Dean winchester#dean winchester fan fic#dean winchester fanfiction#dean winchester fanfic#Dean winchester fan fiction#dean x reader#dean winchester x reader#deanxreader#spn x reader#dean x reader insert#spn x reader insert#deanxreaderinsert#kid!dean#kid!reader#The Unknowns Series
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Anon asked:
Love hearing stuff from Tish's POV & despite how greedy it is there's (at least) three scenes I'd love to see from her POV if you ever got round to them: when Jon woke up after she & he had been held by Risdon and she'd found out he was the Arrow; the night of the riots when she first thought of kissing him(per previous drabble from her Pov); when he came to see her in the hospital after her poisoning.
Here is the second of those scenes, set during chapter ten of The Man Under the Hood.
“Hey, have you seen Jonny?”
“Not for an hour at least.”
Abby glances around the room fretfully, and her knuckles whiten on the doorframe.
Tish sits up, frowning at her. “I promise he’s not hiding in the closet.”
“Right.” Abby shakes her head, shifting anxiously from foot to foot. “Sorry, I’ve just run out of places he could be, and he’s not answering his phone.”
Mayor-Elect Queen has already been summoned to the protest lines, and the news alerts popping up on Tish’s phone have progressed from Unrest at Bioethics Conference to Duwamish Blocked Off and finally to Fires Set in Nuxalk Corridor. She is fairly certain she knows where Jon has gone, but she offers up a perfectly reasonable alternative: “Perhaps he just needed a little time to himself.”
“Then he should have told someone,” Abby grumbles, pulling her phone from her pocket for a quick check. “This is not a good time to disappear. I promise you, if Uncle Roy were here, he’d be pissed.”
Tish hardly knew the man, but his name gives her a twinge anyway. You can’t spend days with a family, immersed in their grief, and not feel some of it yourself.
The afternoon she first sat down in Roy Harper’s office at Panoptic, he wore a stylish side part, a reassuring smile, and the grace of a man very much at ease in his good suit. You’d never guess that the Glades raised him, or that he didn’t learn to knot a tie properly until his thirties.
“Mr. Harper,” she said, “I didn’t feel unsafe until men with earpieces started following me around everywhere.”
He came around his desk to lean against the front of it. “Look, chances are nothing happens. I’ve read a lot of hate mail, and what your dad’s been getting? Ten to one it’s all bullshit.” The word sounded strange coming from just above that beautiful necktie. Apparently the Glades still shone through sometimes.
“So I should only be a little bit worried.”
He shook his head. “Nah. We’re going to do the worrying.” Then he smiled at her, and oh, he might have been a married man thirty years her senior, but that smile could give anyone a little flutter. “We’re not going to let anything happen to you, Miss Cuvier.”
When Jon told her, with a shoddy attempt at secrecy and discretion, that some of his “colleagues” would be watching over her while she met with a mob captain, she was grateful that one of them would be Mr. Harper.
They buried him this morning. For a data library full of bleeding edge medical research, the Black Hand was willing to torture and murder. Papa was willing to let her die. And Roy Harper stood up straight and took a bullet through the neck.
Tish is in so far over her head, she doesn’t even know which way to kick for the surface. She is in a house full of strange and extraordinary people with more money than God, more tragic backstory than a Bronte novel, and far more hugging than she is accustomed to. They discuss painful, wrenching family matters in front of her, and they scoff every time she offers them their privacy. In their home she feels snug and safe in the depths of an exotic foreign country, comfortable and uncomfortable by turns.
Now Jonathan has disappeared, while somewhere out there in the dark, a sociopath is running loose, and he knows the Arrow’s name.
One problem at a time.
Tish and Abby make another pass through the house, which is littered with empty glasses and leftover trays from the funeral reception. They find Mrs. Queen at the kitchen table, talking very quietly to her sister-in-law, who hardly seems to register a word.
Mrs. Queen frowns at Abby. “He wasn’t upstairs?” Her frown deepens at the answering head shake.
Thea Queen leans her elbows on the table and rubs her temples. Weariness is the first human emotion Tish has seen her express all day, aside from anger. A missing nephew is one more complication than she is equipped to handle tonight.
Mrs. Queen presses her lips together, and she gives her ponytail an irritable little toss. “Baby gates. I swear, we’re going to go back to leashes and baby gates.” She lays her hand over Thea’s - they all touch each other so casually - and says, “I’m sorry to run out on you, but - “
“Go,” Thea says, waving her off. “Go on.”
Mrs. Queen gathers her coat and purse, hugs her daughter, and heads for the door.
After it closes behind her, Abby sinks into her vacated chair and casts an anxious, sideways glance at her aunt. “We’re assuming he snuck out,” she says, hunching her shoulders and hugging herself. “Remember that time Mom disappeared out of our backyard while three hundred people and a whole team of bodyguards were here?”
Thea reaches out and squeezes Abby’s shoulder. “He snuck out, baby. It’s all right.”
Tish starts gathering plates, and Thea and Abby only surface from their separate reveries at the sound of running water. “Don’t wash dishes,” they tell her, but what else is there to do? Stare into space or compulsively refresh the newsfeed.
Fifteen minutes later, a text burbles up on Abby’s phone.
“Found him,” she reads aloud. “He decided to pick up an evening shift.”
“So he’s fine,” Thea says wearily. “Taking care of business.”
Abby turns to her in startled indignation. “His arm was in a sling this morning.”
“If he’d asked my permission, I wouldn’t have given him the go-ahead.” Thea heaves a sigh and slumps lower in her wheelchair. “But he didn’t.”
Tish has already made bets with herself as to which of Jon’s various mentors wore the hood before him, and she revises the odds on Roy Harper drastically upwards. To his wife, these are old, familiar fears.
Not so for Abby. “He just took off,” she fumes. “Didn’t bother to tell anyone where.”
Eyes closed, Thea nods. “Yeah, hooding up with no one on Watchtower is a dumb risk.”
Surprise flickers in Abby’s face; clearly she hadn’t thought of the extra risk. She turns a shade paler and says, “It’s just, I thought the top secret classified confidential sneaking around was over.”
With the city on fire, she’s angry about being excluded. Sweet as she is, the girl is fifteen and very much the baby of her family.
“He’s got backup now, and there’s nothing we can do to help from here,” Thea says, forcing herself a little more upright and gripping the handrims of her wheelchair. “I’m going to bed. Wake me up if something happens.”
“We’ll let you know,” Tish says quietly. She does not have Thea’s nerves of steel, and she knows better than to believe there is any chance of sleep tonight.
Thea spins on the spot and heads for the doorway, where she pauses and glances over her shoulder. “Scratch that. Wake me up if you need me.”
Tish takes one more look at her drawn face and defeated posture, and she resolves only to wake her in the event of disaster, death, or dismemberment.
At the last second, Abby hurries to catch up and hug her aunt. Tish hears a muffled murmur.
“Love you too, junebug,” says Thea, and kisses her head. “Thanks for everything you did today.”
When she’s gone, Abby gives Tish an embarrassed little shrug and says, “I didn’t really do anything.”
Yes, she did. Tish watched her do it all day, hovering near whichever family member needed her most. It was not always the person whom Tish judged closest to crying. In fact, most often it was stoic Mr. Queen whose arm Abby linked hers through at the funeral or whose shoulder she headbutted at the reception.
Abby projects the evening news on the kitchen wall, and Tish puts the kettle on. If they plan to hold a vigil, they’ll need tea.
The helicopter cam pans over a burning police car, trash cans blazing in the streets, and shattered glass glittering in the reddish light. Chanting devolves to shouting then somehow resolves to chanting again. Reporters stand in front of destruction, describe the obvious, and portentously enumerate the things “we do not know at this time.”
No one set a single fire until they found out about Papa. Tish turns away and starts hunting for Earl Grey.
“Dad’s somewhere out there,” Abby says, eyes peeled for him. “I don’t know what he thinks he’s going to do in that crowd. Who could even hear him?”
The kettle whistles. Just as Tish takes it off the heat, the news anchor fills the screen with solemn urgency. “Breaking news. Just a few moments ago, an unknown gunman opened fire on City Hall. Three shots were fired, and Mayor Lee has sustained at least one gunshot wound. He is currently being rushed to medical help. The severity of his condition is unclear at this time, but - ”
“They’re shooting mayors now?” Abby sucks in a deep breath. “That’s on the table?”
They will shoot at teenage girls, or they will break their arms to make their fathers talk. They will pay each other in people, and they will kill for secrets pried out of tortured bodies. Everyone you know wears a mask, and sometimes when they take it off, they only become more strange to you.
Everything is on the table.
Onscreen, the anchors exchange worried platitudes, and the crawl at the bottom of the screen announces street closures. “We have word from the convention center that this news is being badly received by the gathered protesters. We are hoping to get some clarification on - ”
Then, a sudden cut to -
“ - and I’m not going anywhere.”
It’s a familiar voice, booming across Duwamish Square from a source Tish can’t pin down. The GNN camera drone swoops across the convention center and zooms in on the Arrow, who casts an imposing silhouette on the concrete facade behind him. He is lit up bright and larger than life, and his face is half shadow.
“When this is over, the conference speakers and half of these protesters are going home. Those of us who have to stay and pick up the pieces - what kind of city do you want?”
Tish’s brain stalls out momentarily. “What is he…”
“Talking the crowd down from something stupid,” Abby supplies.
He has no real power here, Tish does not say. All they have to do is ignore him.
But they don’t. He makes a surprisingly punchy speech, and with thirty years of history giving his words weight… Starling listens. And then, with a parting one-liner in which Tish recognizes Jon Queen for a moment, the Arrow disappears again.
Abby seems totally unsurprised that he pulled it off, but the news anchors are, by the standards of a stoic profession, absolutely over the moon.
“The Arrow hasn’t addressed the city like this in over thirty years,” they say, and old footage flares to life onscreen. The man standing atop the car in the wreckage of the Nuxalk corridor, yelling across the crowd, looks like he could be Jon, brought there by a time machine.
But it isn’t over.
Brawls have broken out in the streets, and masked vigilantes are out in force. Abby cheers at a glimpse of the Canary, and a cameraman onsite audibly gasps when he catches a few frames of the Batman.
The original Batman was active long before Tish was born, and his successor only appeared in her senior year of high school. Gotham was abuzz with the news, and Papa, who liked to hold forth at the dinner table, vocally disapproved. After the fourth or fifth boring tirade on the subject, Tish developed a vague affection for the Batman out of silent spite.
Now she listens to the reports of him breaking up street fights, and she feels a surge of pride.
GNN locates the Arrow again quickly, and they cut to a drone feed in the Central Business District, where an office building is burning. Fire hoses sweep the ravaged top floors above the flashing lights and sirens and ladders. “A pipe bomb was detonated on the fifteenth floor,” says the anchor. “And a moment ago, the Arrow was spotted touching down on the roof.”
“I don’t see him,” Abby says anxiously.
“There.”
He rappels down from the roof, quick and confident, and on the third floor from the top he shoves powerfully off the wall and then cannonballs feet-first into a window. Cracks shoot through it to the frame. He shoves off again, and this time - smash. He tumbles into the smoke and disappears.
“The vigilante has entered the building!” the reporter repeats several times, and they replay the footage in fuzzy closeup. “The Arrow is inside!”
Tish only realizes she’s holding her breath when Abby releases hers.
“Did he just break into a burning building?” Abby whispers in abject horror.
“It’ll be all right,” Tish says, wrapping an arm around her again. “You saw how he climbed in, like he’s practiced a hundred times. He knows what he’s doing.”
“What he’s doing is stupid!”
On the right-hand side of the building, a dark shape swings down from above and clings to the ornate facade. The Batman looks shadowy and dramatic by the light of a burning office building, and he skitters a few meters sideways as easy as walking on flat ground. He finds a window already busted in by the initial explosion, and he slips inside.
“There,” Tish says, with forced optimism. “Jon’s got backup.”
Abby only shrinks deeper into herself. She cannot have failed to notice that the Bat and Terry McGinnis showed up in town at the same time, or that one is watching the Arrow’s back as closely as the other watches Jon’s. It feels like bad manners to discuss it out loud, so Tish only squeezes Abby tighter.
“I can’t see them,” Abby says.
“Give them a moment.”
Abby takes a deep, purposeful breath, and for a few seconds she manages to keep still. The onsite reporter provides useless, repetitive narration while they watch and wait.
And wait.
When the suspense starts to fray her nerves, Tish closes her eyes and asks for a little courage. Lord, you are my refuge and strength, an ever-present help in times of trouble. Watch over them and -
“They should have come out by now,” Abby says, and she writhes out of Tish’s grip as if she cannot stand the inside of her own skin.
“I have no idea how long these things are supposed to take. Just give them time.”
An almighty crash sends dust and flames blooming from the windows, up at the rightmost corner of the building. Metal shrieks, bricks crumble from the facade.
Tish jumps in her seat, and a horrible nauseous flutter goes through her whole body. Next to her, Abby sucks in a high-pitched gasp that sounds almost painful.
The reporter onsite startles too, then puts his fingers to his ear. “The fourteenth floor has partially collapsed.” He pauses, listens. Continues: “It has already been cleared. I repeat, the collapsed floor was cleared. No evacuees or first responders remain on that level.”
But Abby doesn’t seem to hear him. She has frozen like a prey animal, white and wide-eyed. Tish has seen her this way once before, and she tries to stop the anxiety attack before it can escalate.
“No one was on that floor,” she says, putting her arm around Abby again and holding her firmly. “Jon wasn’t on that floor.” She isn’t certain that’s true, because it’s unlikely the fire department can precisely track the Batman or the Arrow’s whereabouts. But there was no reason for them to be on that floor if no one else was. “It’s all right.” Breathe in, breathe out. Big and dramatic enough for Abby to feel it and fall into rhythm. “It’s all right, he knows what he’s doing.”
“I hate this,” Abby whispers after a few moments, and if she can talk, Tish counts that as success. “I really hate this.”
Tish reaches for the remote. “We don’t have to watch.”
Abby twists around to look her in the eyes. “It’s Jonny.”
So it is.
Twelve days ago, he and Tish nearly died together. For the rest of her life, however she may feel about him, she will never be indifferent to Jonathan Queen. She can’t look away any more than Abby can.
It is probably all right to say this out loud: “Lord, please watch over them and keep them from harm.”
Abby turns to her in surprise, but then she nods, leans into Tish’ side, and says, “And maybe send us some chill, if you’ve got extra.”
Twenty seconds grind by like twenty minutes. Finally, the reporter announces, “The vigilantes have just exited the building on the south side! They have a survivor with them.”
Coverage flips to a drone cam swinging around the corner, and through the smoke a green hood and a black cowl come into view down on the sidewalk. The Batman and the Arrow are each supporting one end of a makeshift stretcher. The woman strapped to it is holding tightly to the Arrow’s wrist.
Abby’s breath leaves her all in a rush, and the first thing she says is, “Is that a coffee table they put her on?”
Faintly, Tish nods. “I think so. With the legs snapped off.”
First responders rush to take the coffee table off the vigilantes’ hands, and on the sofa the girls relax against each other.
Then the Batman and the Arrow turn right back around and run into the smoke.
Abby lets out a disbelieving noise.
“Oh,” Tish says quietly.
“Damn it, Jonny.”
It’s a very long night.
For hours they track the news coverage, straining for a glimpse or a mention of anyone they know. Six times over, they watch the same clip of the Black Canary ending a street brawl with two swipes of her staff. They watch shaky cell phone footage of the Batman scaling a fire escape to fall on a cornered cop before he can pull his gun, and the surrounding masked men scatter.
“That’s right,” Tish says with a smile. “Give them a little Gotham.”
Mr. Queen appears periodically, often standing outside one of SCPD’s mobile units, deep in conference with Detective Hall. A few times, he gives a terse update to the cameras. Yes, this fire has been doused. No, we have no further information on Mayor Lee’s condition. Please, for your safety, we ask that you avoid the following streets.
He does not have the flashy presence of the Arrow, standing on high with hundreds of watts of spotlight making him larger than life. But he commands attention as though it were his due, and he gives orders in the comfortable expectation that they will be obeyed. Tish wonders if he learned that in a board room.
It would be impolite to ask Abby where else he might have learned it, especially if she has no such suspicions herself.
They go through two pots of tea and one of coffee, and they watch the flames burn themselves out. An hour after the city has fallen quiet, both girls are still too wired and wrung out to sleep.
Besides, they’re waiting on someone.
At sunup, Jon eases through the back door, moving stiffly and holding his injured arm close to his body.
Tish has been watching him all night, and that feels strange. All she wants now is to mother him, and that is strange too. She wants to sit him down, administer bruise cream, and feed him soup and ibuprofen. He looks like one good hug would turn him to complete marshmallow - perhaps the kind of hug he gave her the night Risdon came to Papa’s house, right after she watched enviously as Abby walked into Mr. Queen’s arms. She isn’t sure she has the right, and besides, someone else has precedence. She looks to Abby.
Who promptly snaps, “Don’t ever do that again.”
Jon tips his head back, and his hooded eyes would look insolent if you didn’t know how many consecutive hours he’d been awake. “Do what?”
“Disappear.”
Tish presses her lips together while Abby fusses at him. Had anyone else greeted him with a lecture, they would have been getting off easy with a sarcastic dismissal. But for Abby he stands there and takes it. In fact, he takes it very much to heart.
Funny how everything he says sounds more sincere when he’s saying it to her.
Finally, curt with exhaustion, Abby says good night and goes upstairs. She leaves her dirty dishes on the counter, as her brother and her aunt often do. Mr. and Mrs. Queen will be annoyed if they come home to sticky plates and mugs. Automatically Tish gathers them up.
“Hey, um.” Jon gives one last guilty glance to the doorway she disappeared through. “How bad?”
It’s difficult to explain how intensely Abby seems to feel everything - as if her nerves have been stripped bare, and there is no layer of protection between herself and the world. It is not Jon’s fault, and Tish doesn’t want him looking so miserable over it. Gently, she says, “She was pretty upset.”
“Like, piano lid upset?”
She is tempted to lie, but finds that she can’t when he is looking directly at her. “I was worried for a minute, but no.”
He collapses onto a stool at the kitchen counter. “God damn it.”
There is only one thing to do now, which is the same thing Mama used to do when someone was at her kitchen table in need of comfort. This will require a whisk, a saucepan, and the high quality milk and cream in the fridge. The rest depends on whatever is hiding in the spice cabinet.
Tish pulls down vanilla and honey, and with her back to Jon, she says, “We watched you on the news.” Then, because someone ought to tell him: “You did some really incredible things last night, you know that?”
He only grunts in reply. Then he deflates, his head falls onto his arms, and he makes more discontented noises while she searches for whole nutmeg and a little grinder.
The ritual of lait chaud a la cannelle is soothing in itself, and by the time Tish has frothed up two mugs of it, she is feeling warm and a little drowsy. She sets one down next to him. “Here.”
He gives her a look. “Stop being nice to me.”
It is what she has been feeling since the night the Queens took her in. She still cannot fathom why they have decided to make her safety their responsibility, and every day she wants to tell them, Thank you, but that’s enough. Don’t pour on more kindness I’ll never be able to repay.
So she answers Jon just as they have, with the same heedless good humor. “Nope.” And she dares to pet him a little bit, the way his mother or his sister or his aunt probably would, if any of them were here.
He sighs deeply, his shoulders unknit, and he drinks what she made for him. It’s an odd thing to take pride in, but she does.
Then, almost casually, he leans his head against her arm. She blinks in surprise and holds perfectly still, as if a wild bird were eating from her palm. His cheek is cool against her upper arm, and she can feel his breath on her skin.
It would be easy to lean down and kiss him, if she wanted to.
Before another thought can follow that one, she whispers, “Go get some sleep.”
Wordlessly he heads upstairs, and she clears away the dishes.
#legacy verse#offscreen in legacy verse#the man under the hood#laetitia cuvier#jon and tish#arrow next gen
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Au. Note: Suggestions for the title are very much welcomed. I don't know where I'm going to go with this since I wrote this back in 2012, so please bear with me. I got this much from a dream I had, and I haven't had a dream like or about this since.. so it's up to my creativity to go from here. Reviews, comments, and questions are always welcomed. :) FMA and it's characters belong to Arakawa-san, so they are not mine. Thanks for reading!
***
His eyes popped open as he awoke with a gasp. He had to get to her before anything happened. Before he lost it all. Thowing back the crisp white sheets of the medical ward's bed, he swung his legs over the side and firmly planted his bare feet on the floor. Gaining traction against the tile floor, he began running, narrowly skirting his way around the other bed in the room that blocked his path and headed for the door. Yanking it open, he made his way out into the hall, not even stopping to bask in the few shocked gasps of some of the female staff.
Almost automatically, he knew where she was. Taking off like a gunshot down the hallway to his right, he barreled past medical staff and alchemists alike, shoving people and things aside as quickly as he could in order to get to the end of the hall. When he had, he turned to his right and began running again at the same speed as before. Growling, he shouted at those too stupid to see that he had a mission to fulfill and nothing would stand in his way.. for long. "Come on, MOVE! Get out of the way, dammit!" At his bark, most of the staff moved to one side of the hall or the other, except for those who stared blankly at him or just couldn't see him.. like Sheska, who as usual had a wall of books in her arms.
She cried out when she felt a force push against her tightly folded hands, shoving her backwards into the wall behind her and spilling her books to the floor. She didn't even have time to complain as she saw two bare feet slip and slide among the books, gain traction once more, and head down to the end of the hallway before turning right again.
Even Havoc.. calm, usually unassuming Havoc.. had to blink a few times in order to make sense of everything when a stray gust of wind from what seemed like a passing freight train blew by and put his cigarette out. "Aw, man.. come on.." Actually looking up for a moment, he glanced around to see what had happened and only saw a blur of black and white heading down the hallway away from him.
There she is, he thought. Almost there. Putting on a burst of speed, he shot past the last few staff members and made a beeline straight for her. Too bad she didn't see it coming.
***
"Alright, make those corrections, draw up another draft, and you should be ready for authorization," she informed the soldier. With a nod, he headed back to his station. Usually, she was taken by surprise very little. When Mustang had forgotten he still can't even make a spark in rainy weather, she simply sighed and handed him a dry pair of gloves. When Havoc changed girlfriends for the third time in just as many days, she knew it was going to be someone else the next day. When she found Sheska buried in a pile of reference material for the second time this week, it was to be expected. This, however.. yeah, completely by surprise.. and that was rare.
"Hm?" was all she managed to utter as she looked to her right, her attention drawn away from the paperwork in her hand when staff kept complaining about being shoved. All she knew that she saw was Roy Mustang.. in a hospital gown that came down to his knees.. coming at her.. and looking very determined. She didn't have time to even blink, much less ask what the hell was going on, before a pair of warm, inviting lips were almost forcefully pressed against her own and she felt a strong hand at the back of her neck pulling her in for more.
***
This.. this is what he'd been looking for but denying himself for years. He'd deluded himself in trying to find what he wanted in countless other women, and it showed. He'd been left, unsatisfied but determined, and what he truly wanted had been right here all this time. Why he had denied himself this for so long, he wasn't certain.. but he knew he had very little time to make her understand. Pulling back, albeit reluctantly, he looked at her, breathing heavily from his mad dash over here as well as the kiss.
"What the hell?" was all she could whisper, her eyes wide as they focused on the face of a winded but otherwise serious Roy.
"Riza, let me explain," he began, his tone the most serious she had ever heard it outside of battle.
Somehow, she found her voice as she snapped back to her usual self. "Yes, please do! What the hell is going on, Roy? I look up and i see you barreling down the hallway in nothing but your hospital gown! At me, no less! What is the meaning of this?"
"Riza, I've been stupid.."
"Well that's not a news flash.."
"I've been going out with all of these women, looking for the one I want to be with for the rest of my life, and I realized I've been looking in the wrong direction. I should've been looking at you. It's always been you. I just refused to let myself see that because I'm your superior. Not anymore. I'm saying it here and now.. I want you, Riza. I love you."
Yeah, that not being surprised by anything? Apparently it ended today and she'd missed the memo.
Blinking rapidly, she tried to wrap her mind around this new information. Roy, serious yet womanizing Roy, was admitting his feelings.. for her? Okay, what alternate dimension had she slipped into in the last five minutes? She wanted to know.. and for now, she'd live with it.. but later, she'd definitely have to return to her own world. "Roy, what are you going on about? You love me?" She paused, looking at him oddly. "What sort of medication have they been giving you? We have to get it changed. It's making you spout nonsense."
"It isn't nonsense, dammit! I love you!" he yelled, only brought to see how loud he'd yelled when he heard muttering behind him. He continued on, lowering his voice a couple of notches. "It isn't the medication, either. Something's going to happen. Something big, and I don't know what, but I knew I had to tell you how I felt before this whole place and all of these people are blown to kingdom come."
***
On the other side of the city, two people stood atop different buildings, looking down on the scene below them. A short, fat, bald man was grinning from ear to ear as he ran around, happily chasing after the townspeople. Opening his mouth, he let his tongue loll out, bearing a red ouroroboros mark. With a cry of happiness, he grabbed the nearest human and bit down on his upper arm just beneath the shoulder. The man cried out in pain and horror as the creature dressed in all black continued his feast, finishing the rest of his arm off and then heading for his knee. "Can't have you running away, now can we?" it asked. "I don't like it when my food escapes!"
The taller male with jet black hair and sunglasses laughed heartily as he watched. "That's it, Gluttony.. eat him.. eat all you want." He laughed again as he ran a hand through his hair. The man's name was Greed.. and he'd seen this scene play out a number of times in the past few days. Ishtval, Risembool, and now Central.. and he was loving every minute of it.
The shorter man on his left, standing, strangely enough, on top of a hospital, sighed boredly. "Greedy bastard," he commented under his breath.
Greed flashed him a smile. "Naturally.." he replied, his eyes sliding over to look at his partner-in-crime, "..and you're jealous."
The other's long, dark green hair cascaded down to the gritty, dirty rooftop as he sat down. Scoffing, he hung his legs over the edge of the building as he watched Gluttony eat his fill. "My name may be Envy, but even I'm not jealous of you," he commented.
#fullmetal alchemist#anime#fanfic#fanfiction#greed the avaricious#roy mustang#riza hawkeye#gluttony#envy the jealous#oooooold writings
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Best Books I’ve Read in 2018 So Far
Hi friends! How are you guys doing!? I know it’s Friday and that means I’d typically be sharing my weekly Things I’m Loving Friday post but right now my life looks like a blur of newborn cuddles, trying my best to give an energetic toddler plenty of attention, eating with one hand while rocking a baby and a whole lot of neglected housework. Life is a wonderful mess right now and THAT is, without a doubt, what I’m loving most this week! I thought about compiling a short list of other things I’m loving at the moment but they’d pretty much all be newborn baby products and easy-to-eat snacks (I’m looking at you cereal and popcorn!) so I figured I’ll just keep note of some of my newborn favorites in the back of my mind for a big post to share on the blog at a later date once we’ve had the chance to really immerse ourselves in life with the newest member of our family.
The above paragraph is basically my long-winded way of saying I don’t have a traditional TILF post scheduled for today but I DO have a roundup of some awesome book recommendations for you!
I often include shout outs to great books I’ve recently read in my Friday blog posts but it wasn’t until I had a blog reader reach out to me to ask if I could share a “master list” of my current favorite reads that I realized it might be helpful to have all of these recommendations in ONE post. Today’s post features my favorite reads from this year (so far!) and I am planning to share a follow up to this post at the very end of the year with my favorite books from the second half of 2018 as well. If you have any recommendations for books you’ve absolutely loved recently, please feel free to let me know in the comments section of this post.
And just FYI, you can always find a constantly updated list of books I’ve read and loved on the Books page of my blog. I hope one of the books mentioned below catches your eye and makes it on your summer reading list!
Best Books I’ve Read in 2018 So Far
Final Girls by Riley Sager
This book came highly recommended to me by two blog readers who said they both finished it in two days because it was so gripping. Apparently this book has a two-day reading window because Final Girls kept me on the edge of my seat (errr… bed) for the two nights it took me to devour every last word. Final Girls is a suspenseful thriller that follows the life if Quincy Carpenter, a woman who managed to survive a brutal massacre that killed five of her friends when she was on a weekend trip to a cabin in the woods in college. Dubbed one of three “Final Girls,” one of three women who survived horrific killings when others did not, Quincy is trying her best to lead a normal life. Then Lisa, one of the three Final Girls and the only one of 10 sorority sisters to survive a sorority house murder massacre in college, is found dead and Sam, the other Final Girl, shows up on Quincy’s doorstep. Quincy’s life is turned upside down again. This book includes twist after twist and there was not one dull moment in the whole thing. If you’re in the market for a new thriller, definitely check it out!
Little Fires Everywhere by Celeste Ng
There’s a reason this book received a lot of hype in the past year. (It is a New York Times bestseller and was Amazon’s Book of 2017.) Little Fires Everywhere was an engrossing read from the beginning and the author writes about the characters in this novel in a way that feels believable and authentic. The book takes place in Shaker Heights, a near-perfect suburb of Cleveland, and follows the Richardson family, a wealthy family who seems to have it all together, and Mia and Pearl, a mysterious mother and daughter who arrive in town and rent a small house from the Richardsons. Family friends of the Richardsons attempt to adopt a Chinese-American baby, erupting a custody battle that divides not only Shaker Heights but the Richardsons and Mia and Pearl as well.
As the two families’ lives become intertwined and the custody battle intensifies, secrets from the past and present are revealed. A theme of this book is motherhood, a mother’s love and what it truly means to be a mother. Little Fires Everywhere felt different from other books I’ve read in some way – perhaps because of the author’s incredible talent for writing about such different characters in believable and intriguing ways – and the book made me feel invested in the characters and their stories from the beginning.
An American Marriage by Tayari Jones
If there is one book I’ve seen popping up all over the internet as a “must read” recommendation this year, it’s An American Marriage. For some reason I kept skipping over it when I was looking for a new book to read but when I finally curled up with this book at the end of a long day, it immediately roped me in and I understood the hype. The author is a very talented writer and believably writes from the perspective of three different characters as we follow the lives of Celestial, Roy and Andre.
An American Marriage begins by giving us a glimpse into the relationship of Celestial and Roy, successful newlyweds living in Atlanta, whose lives are ripped apart when Roy is falsely accused of a crime and sent to prison. The book follows their relationship as they struggle to keep their marriage in tact through Roy’s incarceration and Celestial’s desire to continue to live her life. Seeking solace and support from her childhood best friend, Andre, Celestial is more conflicted than ever while Roy struggles with his own battles both inside of prison and out once he is released and finds himself longing for the comforts of his old life with Celestial.
Eleanor Oliphant is Completely Fine by Gail Honeyman
This book was recommended to me by a handful of you guys in the past and when I initially read the description I admittedly thought the book sounded kind of boring. Fast forward a few months and I found myself wanting a break from some of the suspenseful books I’ve been reading lately and I turned to Eleanor Oliphant is Completely Fine. Now I’m just kicking myself for not reading this one sooner! I loved the author’s writing style and despite the lack of suspense I was used to in many of my recent book selections, Eleanor Oliphant is Completely Fine proved to be a page-turner for me. Eleanor is an intriguing main character. She’s extremely quirky, completely unaware of her lack of social skills and somehow incredibly engaging to read about. I quickly found myself rooting for Eleanor as I learned more about her past and the person she is and who she is becoming.
Lilac Girls by Martha Hall Kelly
I thought Lilac Girls was an incredibly moving book and while I would absolutely recommend it, I do so with a warning that this book is heavy and hard to read. It’s a WWII historical fiction novel that follows the lives of three women (two of whom the author based on real women). Caroline is a former Broadway actress know in New York City’s social scene with a heart for helping French children and families through her job at the French consulate. Kasia is an energetic Polish teenager drawn into the underground resistance movement. Herta is a determined and ambitious German doctor hired to work at a Nazi concentration camp. As the novel progresses and the lives of Caroline, Kasia and Herta begin to intertwine, the story becomes more and more gripping and horrifying. Lilac Girls is well-written, moving, vivid, extremely unsettling and memorable.
Say You’re Sorry by Melinda Leigh
Say You’re Sorry popped up as a recommended read for me on my Kindle and after reading the description and 900+ positive reviews, I downloaded it and began reading. I liked the main character almost instantly and the book piqued my interest from the very first page. Say You’re Sorry follows Morgan Dane, a recently widowed lawyer and a mother of three, as she’s settling back into her childhood hometown and accepting a new career opportunity. Everything changes when Morgan’s babysitter is murdered and her neighbor, Nick, whom she’s known all her life, is accused of the crime. Morgan fervently believes Nick is innocent and agrees to represent him as his lawyer, turning her community against her, with the exception of an ex-police officer turned private detective she dated in high school, Lance Kruger. As Morgan and Lance set out to prove Nick’s innocence, their potential list of suspects increases and so does the risk surrounding their personal safety.
The Alice Network by Kate Quinn
The Alice Network was easily one of my favorite reads of the year so far. It hops back and forth between 1915 and 1947 and follows the lives of Eve Gardinier, a bright but unassuming woman recruited to be a spy during World War I, and Charlie St. Clair, a pregnant college student holding onto hope that her beloved cousin Rose, who disappeared from Nazi-occupied France during World War II, might still be alive. The writing is fantastic and the story moves along quickly with plenty of intrigue, as the lives of Charlie and Eve collide and troubled pasts and secrets are revealed. While this novel is historical fiction, The Alice Network was very real and I was fascinated to learn more about the lives of women spies and their incredible bravery during World War I.
A Death in Live Oak by James Grippando
A Death in Live Oak is actually part of an ongoing series that follows criminal defense attorney Jack Swykeck but I didn’t realize this going into the novel, nor did it matter since I never felt lost or confused and think the book stands well on its own. My mom actually recommended A Death in Live Oak to me when she was about halfway through this novel and we really enjoyed reading it at the same time and discussing all of the twists and turns.
The book begins after the body of Jamal Cousin, the president of Alpha, the preeminent black fraternity at the University of Florida, is found lynched and hogtied over the swamps of the Suwanee River Valley. Mark Towson, the president of a prominent white fraternity, is quickly accused of the crime after an incriminating text message he supposedly sent is discovered on Jamal’s phone. Defense attorney Jack Swyteck agrees to represent Towson and what follows is a a page-turning story that centers around racial unrest, political ambitions and the mystery surrounding Jamal’s murder. I flew through this novel and while parts of it were very hard to read (truthfully the prolog was one of the hardest parts to get through), the author included so many twists and turns that the story flew by and kept me completely engaged until the very last page.
Question of the Day
What is the last great book you read?
Any novels you highly recommend I add to my summer reading list this year?
[Read More ...] https://www.pbfingers.com/best-books-ive-read-in-2018-so-far/
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