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jaceyneedsabetterusername · 4 years ago

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Broken Down (p.2)

Pairings: Arvin Russell x F!Reader (I just realized that though there’s a few little flirty parts or thoughts, it’s actually pretty platonic and open ended)

Summary: (Part 2 of Broken Down) After escaping from Carl and Sandy, you and Arvin find yourselves in Knockemstiff. Little did either of you know, there was somebody else following you there.

Warnings: Murder, Mention of Suicide, Canonical gore and violence, Reference to sexual assault but no depictions

Word Count: 6.6k

Find Part 1 here!

_________

Meade was the last big town until you hit Knockemstiff and you had decided to pull off at a gas station to fuel up to avoid accidentally running out of gas in the middle of nowhere. When the car’s tires rolled to a crunching halt, Arvin jumped out to pump the gas for you. You stepped out of the car and stood beside him while the tank filled with fuel. “What do you wanna do when we get to Knockemstiff? It seems like why ever you’re here is pretty personal so I understand if you wanna do this alone.”

“Where ‘re you gonna go?” He dodged the question, the pump clicking to a stop in the background. He moved to shake the last few drops from the nozzle before replacing it at the pump.

You and Arvin had talked a bit on your long overnight trip about your lives and your plans. He had told you that he was from Coal Creek and admitted to murdering a preacher named Preston Teagarden that impregnated his adopted sister, Lenora, which led her to committing suicide. He had told you all about this monster of a human and why he felt he had to do what he did and, though it felt twisted to genuinely support the murder of somebody, you couldn’t help but support Arvin’s actions. When you asked what was so special about Knockemstiff, he confessed that it was where he used to live, where his parents had died.

Arvin had never found himself the overly talkative or trusting type. Coal Creek residents only seemed to judge him and his family, from bullies to the richer folk who looked down on his family simply for not having much money. There was something special about you though, and perhaps it was some unspoken bond that came about from nearly being murdered and then murdering said murderers, but it made him feel like he could open up to you more than he’d ever felt with anyone.

You told him about your life and family thus far. You told him about your hometown of Barren Springs, not that there was really much to tell. It was just some small town full of cows and churchgoers. When he asked you what you were gonna do after today, you really weren’t sure. Hell, you were barely sure what you were doing now.

You looked around at the surprisingly clean gas station before picking at your nails, “I don’t really know. Figured I’ll drive around for a few days. Maybe head back to Meade after I drop you off and stay here for a few until the story comes out in the newspaper. Just gotta make sure they don’t have any leads, y’know?”

Arvin adjusted his baseball cap, “You ain’t gotta just disappear. I mean, you been mighty kind givin’ me a ride all the way out here but I don’t wanna just use you for a ride ‘n send you on your way. Not after everythin’.” He paused to think for a moment. His story wasn’t a pleasant one and his entire point in coming all the way out here was to try and find some peace with all ghosts in his closet. It was a personal journey, one that he didn’t really want anyone else to join in on, but he really did feel terrible just using you for a ride so far away and leaving you alone. “‘M gonna go visit my old home from back when I was a boy. There’s some things I gotta do there. It’s, uh, it’s somethin’ I gotta do alone. You’re more than welcome to leave me here if you wanna go somewhere else but I don’t want to make you feel like I just used you for a ride.”

You chewed your lip to hide the small way the corner of your mouth turned upwards at his ever-courteous manner. ��Well what’re you gonna do after all this? You gonna be able to make it wherever you need to go?”

“I ain’t got anywhere to go but I’ll figure it out. Don’t you worry ‘bout me,” he admitted, leaning against the car beside you.

You looked up at him with your arms crossed, “How ‘bout I wait in town till you’re done doin’ what you need to do and then you can come stay with me in Barren Springs until you get a plan. It’s better for you to know where you wanna go and what you wanna do before running off.”

Arvin’s eyes narrowed skeptically, “You sure you’re alright with that? I don’t wanna put you out anymore than you’ve already done for me.” He was never one for charity and didn’t want to take anything he felt like he couldn’t reciprocate.

You nodded, pressing yourself off the side of the car and swinging towards the driver's side of the car, “It’s no problem, really. Now how much further to Knockemstiff?”

The drive to Knockemstiff wasn’t long at all and within the hour you and Arvin found yourselves driving along the road that he found hauntingly familiar. Even so, everything looked so different. Arvin couldn’t imagine the town changing much over the last eight or so years so he figured that the place just must have felt darker and grimmer with the ghosts of the tragedies that took place there.

“Where’s your house?” You leaned forward over the steering wheel to peer further ahead up the road, trying to see through the thin layer of condensation that had built up on the inside of your window from the contrast of the heated interior with the dreary drizzly outside.

Arvin gestured up the road you were headed down, “Should be just up there but it’s been a while.” You could see the way the road split off into a fork just up ahead and you could tell by Arvin’s face that he wasn’t quite sure which road was the right one.

“Should we ask someone?” You pointed towards a small building up ahead, pulling over when Arvin nodded.

The pair of you got out of the car to see an older man sitting in a rocking chair on the porch. “Howdy,” he greeted with a thick accent, “You pair look like you been travellin’. Where you headed?”

Arvin shoved his hands in his pockets as he answered, hiding beneath the brim of his hat from the rain. You shielded your face with your hand from the mist, tiny droplets accumulating on your eyelashes. “There used to be a house and a barn up on that hill over there. Some lawyer owned it. You know it?”

“Sure I do. Up in the Mitchell Flats.” The man answered sure as could be.

“Still there?”

The man leaned back, eyeing Arvin, “Well, I’ll be damned. You’re that Russell boy ain’t you?”

You felt the way Arvin tensed up a little beside you, clearly not comfortable with the legacy he seemed to have in this town, but stepped forward nonetheless. You followed him under the shelter of the porch awning, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “I just thought, seeing as I was this way, I’d stop by and see the old place again.”

The man sighed heavily and stood, “Son, I hate to tell you this but that place burned some years ago. They think some kids did it. Wasn’t nobody livin’ there since you and your folks.”

“Well, heck, we came all this way. May as well walk up there anyways.” Arvin insisted.

The man’s eyes flicked over to you and back to Arvin, “Sure, just cut across Clarence’s pasture. Don’t know if you remember but there’s some pretty flowers growin’ up there this time of year for your girl there, too. He won’t mind if you take a few.” He glanced at you with implying eyes and you tensed up.

“Oh, uh, we’re not- it ain’t like that.” You stammered over your words, hands waving slightly with a flustered chuckle.

The man put his hands up, “My bad, ma’am. Just figured since you two were…” he paused and cleared his throat, “well, anyways. It’s nice to know you’re doing alright, son.”

Arvin nodded in a brief farewell before turning to head back to the car and you followed, only stopping when he turned back to the man on the porch, “I never did thank you for the night my dad died. You were awful kind to me and I just want you to know that I ain’t never forgot it.”

Even though you didn’t know the extent to which Arvin had suffered that night, the fact that he was thanking this old man that barely recognized him for the good deeds of nearly a decade ago spoke miles in your opinion. You stood back silently, knowing that this was his path to healing and resolution and that, at least for now, you were merely a spectator.

“You had that pie smeared all across your face,” the man reminisced almost as if it were a happy memory, “Damn Bodecker thought it was blood. Remember that?”

You looked at the ground with a silent chuckle at the thought of Arvin as a young boy with pie smeared across his face but that faded when you heard the way he said, “Yeah, I remember everything about that night,” with such heaviness.

“He ain’t the lawman that I expected,” he continued, “Shame about his sister though.”

“Why? What happened?”

“His sister and her husband were found dead. Not far from Meade.”

Your heart stopped beating and you glanced over at Arvin to find him already casting a nearly imperceptible but highly aware glance at you. “That’s awful. They know what happened?” You questioned, trying to force as much sincerity into your tone as possible. There was no telling with certainty that Bodecker’s sister and her husband were Sandy and Carl but that would be a huge coincidence for two different couples to wind up dead not far from Meade on the same day.

The man nodded, “Last I heard, they don’t know for sure. I got a friend who’s son works in the sheriff’s department, though. Said they thought it was a murder-suicide at first but found bullets from a gun that they couldn’t find at the crime scene so they ain’t so sure no more. Looks like they’re investigating it as a murder.”

Your mouth fell open, trying to find the words that would secure your innocence, as if this man had any reason to believe you were guilty anyways, but it took a moment for you to find your voice, “That’s terrible. I hope they figure out what happened,” you lied, less convincingly than you hoped but this man had no reason to not believe you.

He nodded in agreement, “Yeah, real unfortunate to hear. But, uh, I won’t keep you any longer. You two stay safe out there.” He waved the pair of you off and you and Arvin returned to the car.

The second both doors were securely shut, you let out a breath of air you weren’t aware you’d been holding, “We’re fucked, ain’t we?”

“They ain’t got no reason to suspect us.” Arvin tried to reassure but the way he gripped onto his thighs tightly made you nervous.

“He said they found bullets that didn’t match the guns at the scene. Did you pick up the bullets at the church? Can they trace the gun back to you?” Your questions flew frantically, pulling out onto the road and following the fork that the man had pointed down earlier.

Arvin nodded, fingers rolling over the lumps in his pocket where the empty cases had been residing since yesterday. “Yeah, I picked ‘em up. ‘M pretty sure I got ‘em all.”

You let out a shaky breath, feeling sick to your stomach, “Good,” You lied, feeling anything but, “good.”

***

You sat at the tiny diner in town at a booth all to yourself, sipping at a soda and picking at a basket of fries. At first, you had thought that you could possibly read the book you’d packed into your bag for the trip but it sat on the table beside the napkin dispenser, untouched since you set it down after giving up at trying to read after your third time rereading the same paragraph and retaining no information.

How could you read at a time like this? No matter how much you thought you had processed what had happened over the last twenty-four hours, it felt like the reality never truly weighed in. They knew that there was an additional gun so they knew someone else was involved. Carl and Sandy were murdered and the police knew it.

And of course Sandy would turn out to be the fucking sheriff’s sister! Just your luck, right? Carl probably could have disappeared and nobody would have noticed but the sheriff’s sister was going to be a hard one to hide from, especially now knowing that they suspected foul play. There’s no reason for anyone to suspect us, you breathed deeply, trying to calm yourself.

The picked at basket of fries hadn’t been nearly as much comfort as you had hoped and your soda was none too great a therapist either. You didn’t realize you’d actually miss Arvin, the man you’d only known less than twenty-four hours, when you’d only dropped him off at the site of his old home thirty minutes ago but there was a loneliness now that made you uneasy. When Arvin was around, the last day’s events felt bearable but now that you were alone, the paranoia gnawed at you.

Reaching for the ice cold Coca-Cola brand glass full of soda, you dragged it towards you, the sparkling liquid fizzing against your tongue as you took a long sip. Focus on the bubbles. Focus on the bubbles. Arvin will be done soon and you can get the hell out of Knockemstiff and as far from the crime scene as possible.

There was a light chime from the small bell that hung over the door that drew your attention and you watched a tall dark haired man walk in, looking around like he owned the place. One of the waitresses walked right up to him with a warm smile, “Heya Sheriff! What can I get you?”

Your blood ran cold at the realization of who this was and your fears were only confirmed when he turned and you could see the heavy expression in his eyes, “‘M not here for food, Sally. You seen a boy and girl come through here? They’re both young and pretty good looking. He’s kinda average height, brown hair?,” he went on to describe you briefly as well before continuing, “Might have been hitchhiking.”

As casually as you could, you picked up the book and buried your face in it, letting your hair drape over the sides of your face to conceal yourself as much as possible. Sally thought for a moment, “Hm, we get the usual hitchhikers through here. The boy got a name?”

“Arvin Russell.” Bodecker’s voice was flat and serious and the waitress could tell that he was in no mood for stretching this out.

She shook her head apologetically, “‘M sorry, Bodecker. I ain’t seen nobody come through here with that name or a new couple at all. I saw Henry talkin’ to a pair who might’ve matched that description though. Saw ‘em on my way into work. Couldn’t see ‘em too well but sounds like they might have had the same hair color. I don’t know… they didn’t look familiar though. Maybe check with him?”

It was amazing how your breath could reverberate so loudly off the thick walls of paper that shrouded your face from view. Your heart pounded in your chest as you continued to eavesdrop in silence. “Yeah, I’ll go do that. Thanks, Sal.”

You peeked over your book to see her nod and perch up on her toes while she gestured to the kitchen, “Can I get you somethin’ for the road? Coffee maybe? You know it’s on the house.”

Bodecker just shook his head, a solemn look on his face, the look of a man on a mission, “Nah, I better just head out.” With that he walked out the door and you watched him carefully as he climbed into his police car and drove off down towards the old man’s house that you and Arvin had been at not more than an hour ago.

This was bad.

As quickly as you could, you paid for your meal and hustled out to your car, practically throwing yourself into the driver’s seat and speeding down the road after the officer. If he was stopping at the old man’s - Henry, as you just learned - house, that could possibly give you enough time to find Arvin at his house and drive off before Bodecker could even find the pair of you.

Your knuckles turned white on the steering wheel as you sped down the road, grateful that the roads were mostly empty at this time of day. The only sound was the wheels spinning against the asphalt and you talking aloud to yourself, trying to devise a plan. “Just get there before Bodecker, pick up Arvin, get the hell outta dodge.” You repeated it over and over again as if it were that simple.

Soon, you passed Henry’s humble abode and, sure enough, the sheriff’s car was parked just outside and you saw his large figure questioning the old man. Neither of them paid your passing car any mind, which you were grateful for as you peeled off down the left fork of the road, the one that led up to the Mitchell Flats.

You pulled up to the flat area that only had remnants of a house’s foundation now. Slabs of cement were the only signs that a house ever was here, mostly broken from years of abuse from the elements and teenagers. When you pulled up, you noticed that Arvin was nowhere to be seen. “Shit!” You hissed, jumping out of the car and jogging down towards his backyard, the direction he had headed when you dropped him off earlier. He couldn’t have made it far.

“Arvin!” You called out, arms reaching out in a desperate attempt to keep your balance as your feet skidded every few steps along the leaves and moss that slicked the hill you hustled down. “Arvin!”

“I really need you to fucking respond…” You groaned the words meant for Arvin aloud to yourself as you nearly tripped over logs on your trek through the woods. The trees all looked the same and you kept glancing behind you to ensure that you weren’t going in circles, often choosing little landmarks, like that one log that had mushrooms growing on it, to make sure you could find your way back.

Finally, you saw Arvin’s form kneeling before an eerie wooden cross, his white t-shirt dirty from several days of less than ideal situations. You ran towards Arvin, tripping slightly over a few rocks here and there along the way. He turned, ears perked up at the sound of your footsteps. “Arvin! Thank God I found you. We gotta go. Bodecker’s onto us. He came into the diner looking for us and is at Henry’s now.”

Arvin stood up hastily, “Where’s the car?”

“Up by where your house used to be.” You pointed over your shoulder in the direction you came from, “C’mon! If we leave now we might be able to get outta here before-” There was the distinct rustle of footsteps coming from uphill that made you freeze. Your voice lowered to nearly a whisper, “Did you hear that?”

Arvin froze as well, the only sound being your breathing, as you both waited for the sound again. Sure enough, there was a rustle of footsteps again. “Arvin Russell! I know you’re down there somewhere!” Bodecker’s voice rang through the forest clear as day, “You ‘n that girl you’re with. I know y’all are out there.”

Arvin literally tackled you to the ground and hugged your body close to his as he rolled the both of you into a small crevice between a fallen tree and a hole beneath it. He pressed you close into the tree, hiding you as far into the small space as he could while he fumbled around in his pocket for his gun.

“It’s Sheriff Bodecker, kids! I just got some questions to ask you!”

Arvin perched up on his elbows to try and peer over the log. You reached up and fisted his shirt, trying to drag him back down. “What the hell are you-”

A gunshot blasted through the empty forest and both you and Arvin flinched aggressively. His body dropped against yours and you held his chest tightly, burying yourself in his body and pulling him as close to you as possible, concealed in the shelter of the log. You let out a tiny shriek of surprise that you muffled by biting your thumb. His arms wrapped around your body in both an attempt to shield you but also as a knee jerk reaction looking for safety himself in you.

“Sorry ‘bout that! Goddamn bird scared me!” Bodecker breathed heavily somewhere to the west of where you were, his footsteps getting closer and closer. “I ain’t here to hurt you! And I know that y’all don’t wanna hurt me. Come on out so we can have us a talk!”

While Bodecker spoke his lies, Arvin laid back on his back and fumbled around with his gun yet again, this time gripping it and loading the clip with shaky clumsy hands. Finally, he got the clip loaded and he cocked the gun, holding it with both hands like an inexperienced marksman.

You looked around frantically for something to use as a weapon, anything to not feel helpless. Rocks and sticks seemed to be your best choices but you knew damn well that wouldn’t do jack shit against a gun. Arvin glanced over at you with fear in his eyes, the fact that you both found yourselves facing death yet again for the second time in two days. Tragedy seemed to loom over Arvin like a storm cloud but, looking in your wide beautiful eyes, he’d be damned if he let you become another ghost in his past.

“I had a feeling you’d be here. Remember that night you brought me up here? That was an awful thing your daddy did.” His footsteps were terrifyingly close now and you did the only thing you could think of to help. You tossed a stone as far away as you could. According to plan, Bodecker jumped and shot at the sudden movement. “God damnit, don’t fuck with me!”

Arvin may have had the gun but if you could make Bodecker waste his ammo, that was less chances he had of shooting you and Arvin. It was the best solution you could come up with in the heat of the moment. Bodecker sounded furious now and when you peeked over the log, you saw him hiding behind a tree.

You threw another rock in his direction and he wasted yet another shot. “Fuck! I swear to God-” He cursed angrily, knowing he was wasting his shots on nothing.

“Put the gun down, Sheriff. I got one pointed right at you!” Arvin yelled back and your eyes blew wide in panic. You smacked him on the arm and the question in your eyes was clear: What the hell are you thinking?

“Can’t do that son!”

“Just set it on the ground and step away.” Arvin’s voice shook despite his attempt at sounding firm.

“What?” Bodecker asked with a notable change in his tone. Footsteps started approaching again.

Poor Arvin fell right into the trap. “Just set it on the ground and step away!” He repeated even louder. You smacked his arm again and held a finger to your lips.

“So you can kill me like you did my sister and that preacher in West Virginia?” Bodecker hollered back. “You and that girl murdered my sister, didn’t you?”

For the first time since the incident, you felt actual guilt for what you’d done. Hearing the way Bodecker’s voice cracked with grief made you realize that Sandy’s death did actually have an effect on other people, even if she wasn’t a good person. Arvin swallowed hard too, “We ain’t bad people, Sheriff. That preacher weren’t no good. He hurt my sister so bad she killed herself, Sheriff. I had no choice!”

You shook your head and waved your hands at him, desperately pleading him to stop talking. Bodecker’s footsteps were only getting closer and you knew he was getting Arvin to talk so he could locate the two of you. Arvin just had to explain himself, though, and before you could move, Bodecker was right on top of you. From your new position, awkwardly creeping up a nearby tree, using its trunk for cover, you could see Bodecker’s shotgun peek out from around a tree.

“I hate to be the one to tell you this, Sheriff, but your sister and her husband… they weren’t no good neither.” Arvin continued to explain yourselves to the sheriff. By then, your upper back was pressed up awkwardly against a standing tree but you were still lying down, hiding mostly against the fallen log still. Arvin stayed laying on his back, gun up against his chest. “I got a snapshot in my pocket of her huggin’ on some dead guy. And Y/N… you shoulda seen what they was doin’ to her,” Arvin’s eyes met yours and you could see a well of unshed tears as this poor boy was on the verge of breaking at the thought of watching you relive that horror. It was a brief moment that he wanted only you to see before he continued, “What they wanted to do to us. We had no choice! Let loose that gun and I’ll show it to you!”

Suddenly, Bodecker jumped out from behind the tree and Arvin pulled the trigger as soon as he saw him coming but not before the sheriff got a shot off right at the two of you as well. You shrieked out in pain as a few pellets from the shotgun grazed your arm, tearing holes in your jacket. They weren’t deep wounds but they tore long thin gashes across your flesh that began bleeding immediately.

“Agh!” You yelled out, clutching your bicep that was already wet with crimson liquid. Arvin rolled over next to you, having flinched away from the bullets in the opposite direction. You wanted to ask if he was alright but he rolled back over to look up at Bodecker, confirming that he was thankfully at least alive.

Your attention went to the sheriff as well who stood there looking dumbfounded at the red spot blossoming on his shirt. His jaw went slack and his knees buckled before he finally dropped to the ground. You and Arvin shot each other glances of disbelief. You both pressed yourselves off the ground and hopped over the log towards the sheriff.

Bodecker was on the ground, gasping and trying to hang onto what was left of his life. The first thing you did before even looking at him long was kneel down and take his gun from his hand. Now that you were sure he couldn’t hurt you, you looked down at him sadly. Killing Sandy and Carl had been disturbingly easy because they were genuinely terrible people who were trying to murder you. They also died quickly. Bodecker lied helpless on the ground at the mercy of two young adults, gasping and gripping desperately to this world. This time, the murder made your heart feel heavy. Yes, he had been trying to murder you and Arvin but it was for his sister’s sake. There was a twisted nobility in the action that you could empathize for.

Bodecker looked up at Arvin and then up at you. “So it was you in that picture,” he attempted to say, his voice a hoarse whisper.

Your brows furrowed in confusion, “What do you mean?”

He laid his head back, too tired to continue straining himself, “In… in my pocket… Found some pictures in Carl’s camera of… of a girl crying with her shirt.. With her shirt…” Bodecker attempted to explain but his voice failed him as much as his the rest of his body was beginning to shut down.

You gasped at the mention of the photographs. In the heat of everything, you had completely forgotten that Carl had taken a few pictures of you. You patted down the sheriff’s pocket until you found a developed picture of you with your shirt torn wide open, bra out for the world to see, and tears streaming down your face despite the defiantly angry look on your face. Sandy was topless behind you, her lips pressing against your neck and her hands gripping your breasts, pressing them up and inwards to amplify their suppleness. Her direct eye contact with the camera was chilling.

You shuttered at the picture, shoving it in your own pocket instead of giving it back to Bodecker. You weren’t sure what you’d do with it but you couldn’t risk anyone else seeing it.

Arvin had caught a glimpse of the picture and noticed the way it shook in your hands. He noticed the way your eyes glazed over looking at it like you couldn’t believe it was actually you. When you shoved it in your pocket, he sighed and pulled out his own photograph to show the sheriff, the one of Sandy posing nude behind a man’s corpse.

“We had no choice.” He told Bodecker. There was such sincerity in his voice and almost an apology in his eyes for the harm that he had caused to Bodecker and his family. It was never meant to be like this for either you or him. Neither of you were supposed to have become killers. Your hands were never meant to be stained red but life or death situations called for extreme measures and it had been you or them every time. “They was gonna kill us. I swear.”

“We didn’t wanna do it but they had a gun to our heads and tried to force us to... We didn’t have a choice. They were gonna kill us.” You reiterated, voice just as shaky as Arvin’s as you had to sit and come to terms with the events of the last twenty-four hours.

“I’m so sorry.” You and Arvin apologized in uncoordinated unison, hanging your heads low to genuinely show how sorry you were for causing him pain and that it had all had to boil down to this.

Bodecker’s eyes left the pair of you and stared upwards at the trees. You glanced up to see what he was looking at and saw a beautiful clearing in the branches that framed the perfectly clear late afternoon sky. It was a beautiful view to have to be your last, you thought morbidly but truthfully.

You and Arvin sat by Bodecker’s side, listening to his ragged strained breaths until they finally stopped and you knew he was gone. It felt like the least you could do after everything, staying with him so he didn’t die alone. You hoped that maybe it counted as some shred of redemption for the sins committed over the last two days.

When Bodecker’s body finally went limp and his eyes glazed over, you reached up and brushed your hand over his face, closing his eyes. You couldn’t stand to see the empty blue orbs stare off into nothingness and know there was nobody behind those eyes anymore. Arvin stood up and walked over to where you had been hiding, not giving Bodecker’s body much attention at all after he finally slipped away.

With a heavy sigh, you pressed yourself to your feet and walked over to where Arvin stood, looking down at a hole full of animal bones that you hadn’t noticed earlier. You visibly cringed, wondering what in the hell you walked into, “What’s that?”

Sadness overtook Arvin’s features as he stared at the pile of bones, “My best friend from when I was a boy. I had to come back and give him a proper burial.” His vague answer clearly had a story attached to it but you didn’t have the heart to press him further on it right now. Arvin turned his attention to the pistol in his hand, the one he had used to shoot Teagarden, Carl, and Bodecker, and saw nothing but the bloodshed it had caused.

You wished you could know what was going on in Arvin’s brain as he twisted that Luger in his hand. His eyes were deep with remorse, grief, and heartache and you could tell that this boy had seen too many tragedies for one lifetime and somehow, they were all related to the gun he held in his hand.

After almost a minute of silence, he placed the gun gingerly on top of the bones in the makeshift grave and piled it full of dirt until it was indistinguishable from the rest of the forest floor. The only landmarks to signify its location were the three crosses that humbly stood above it. “Why’d you do that?” You asked with gentle curiosity.

He stood up but kept his eyes trained on where the hole once was, “My daddy always told me to wait for the right time to do anything.,” He nodded his head, as if agreeing with his own decision, “I think it’s the right time.” His answer was cryptic and, yet again, you could tell there was a story behind it that you would have to wait to discover.

There was a cool breeze that sent goose bumps rising across your arms and you glanced around the forest to see the leaves rustle and fall to the ground. That was when the black and white clothing of Sheriff Bodecker stood out against the gold and brown foliage and reality settled back in.

“We should probably get outta here soon, Arv.” You urged with a gentle tone, a hand coming to rest softly on Arvin’s bicep.

Arvin’s jumped slightly, eyes darting down to where your skin gently grazed his own. The softness of your touch and the sincerity in your eyes was one that he wasn’t sure he’d experienced since his mother. Even Lenora hadn’t filled that gap that he was secretly desperate for to be filled. She was kind and gentle but had a childlike naivety that you lacked. Arvin’s mother had never looked at him the way you did either. His mother had been tender and compassionate but there was a different kind of understanding in the way that you looked at him. One look into your eyes validated all of his sins over the last few days, for better or worse.

His opposite hand reached across his body and rested over yours, revelling silently in the way your hand fit against his. “Yeah… you’re right.” Arvin took one last look at the three crosses that had haunted his dreams for years and it was almost as if he could feel himself kneeling before them with his father. These weren’t memories he ever thought he’d want to hold onto but now that he was faced with the possibility of never coming back, a part of him felt reluctant to leave. “Rest easy now, Jack.” He let his hand fall from yours with his last good bye and while you weren’t entirely sure who Jack was, you were fairly certain it was the name of whoever those bones in that grave belonged to.

“‘M sorry,” Arvin said out of the blue from the driver’s seat of your car, shaking you from the silent daze that both of you had been sitting in for the last thirty minutes.

You tore your eyes from the dashboard where they had long since zoned out on, emotionally overwhelmed, to look over at him. “For what?” You asked, brows furrowed.

“If it weren’t for me, you wouldn’t have gotten caught up in all this.”

You shook your head, “That ain’t true, Arvin. We both ended up in Carl and Sandy’s car yesterday and we both pulled those triggers. Bodecker was shooting at us because he couldn’t settle with the fact that his sister was a monster. It’s like you said, us or them. I probably would’ve died with Sandy and Carl if it weren’t for you being there so if anything, I should be thanking you. You saved my life.”

Arvin looked over at you, his eyes red from holding back tears for so long but he still shed none. He wasn’t sure what to say to that. The way you had been sitting so quietly had him convinced that you hated him for dragging you into a life ruining situation. “Well I wouldn’t have made it this far without you either so thank you.”

You nodded with a small appreciative smile but there was an exhausted sadness behind your features that Arvin shared. Silence settled back over the car aside from the faint ever present sound of the wind outside the car as you and Arvin drove on down the highway headed for Pennsylvania. Neither of you knew what your next steps were but since killing Bodecker, you’d both decided that heading back to Barren Springs was not a wise decision. The two of you needed to get as far away from this area as you could, at least until everything blew over - that was, if it ever would. If Bodecker could track Arvin, that must have meant the other police officers knew that he had killed Teagarden as well. You weren’t sure if the police knew that you and Arvin were responsible for Carl and Sandy but you could assume as much since Bodecker came after the two of you. Even if they didn’t, there were pictures of you on Carl’s camera but your body wasn’t at the crime scene. Finally, when Bodecker didn’t return, wouldn’t that just put you and Arvin at the top of the suspect list?

So with all the uncertainty in the world, you sat in the passenger seat of your own car with a stranger who you felt like you understood more than you’d ever understood anyone, driving across state lines with no clue as to what you future held. You didn’t know where you were going, when you’d get to come back home, when you could safely see anyone you cared about again, or what was going to happen to all your life goals now. Everything that had been planned and comfortable had been stolen away by a twisted couple picking up a poor girl with a broken down car.

You didn’t know what was waiting for you in Pennsylvania, or anywhere for that matter, but even with all the uncertainty, one thing felt beyond doubt. Maybe it was the exhaustion from going two days with no sleep but you just knew Arvin Russell was going to be in your life from this day forward. There was something you couldn’t explain between the two of you. A spark felt like an inappropriate way to put it under the circumstances of your relationship thus far but it was an understanding, an empathy, a trust, a sense of protection of one another. When you tore your eyes off the road ahead long enough to look over at the man sitting beside you, his hair parted messily down the middle and his face and shirt smudged with dirt, you could have sworn you saw your future. Whether it was a future in prison together, as partners in crime, friends, or lovers, you weren’t quite sure, but a content smile crept up on your face at the inexplicably comforting knowledge that Arvin Russell would be there with you for whatever ups and downs were to come.

#Arvin Russell #arvin russel imagine #tom holland imagine #tom holland #arvin russel #arvin russell x reader #arvin russel x y/n #arvin russel imagines #arvin russell x you #tom holland one shot #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland x y/n #tdalt #tdatt #tdatt imagine #tdatt fics #The Devil All The Time

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hookedonapirate · 4 years ago

Text

A Date for the holidays (and everyday too would be nice)

Summary: Tired of the constant backlash from her family about being single, Emma finds herself striking an arrangement with a roguishly handsome stranger at the mall the day after Christmas. Now she won't have to be alone for the holidays. Emma and Killian agree to be each other's dates, no strings attached, no commitment, no pressure. Just two friends getting together to appease her annoying family and get his brother off his back. It's the perfect setup really...until sticking to the holidays isn't enough. What happens when they both want more?

Holidate AU

A/N: Thank you for all of your feedback 🥰

It's been such a stressful week, I totally forgot to post the newest update here! Better late than never, I suppose.

I'm thinking there will definitely be more than 5 chapters. This was so much fun to write!

Thank you to the lovely @veryverynotgood for beta reading!

Catch up: Ch 1 // Ch 2 // Ch 3 // Ch 4 // Ch 5 // Ch 6 // Ch 7 // Ch 8 // Ch 9 // Ch 10 // Ch 11

Also available on: AO3 // FF.N

Chapter 3

Valentine's Day

Mom: When are you and Killian getting married and making me a grandma?

Emma groans in frustration as she reads the text.

Are you freaking kidding me?

She goes on one date and her mother is already asking when they’re getting married and having kids?

Ugh, so typical.

The woman is so desperate to have her first grandbaby, she’s completely lost it.

Emma: We went on one date, mother. I haven’t even seen him since New Year.

She sets down her phone and gets back to her work.

Or at least she tries.

She’s elbow deep in a case, trying to track down a fugitive she’s already spent several weeks searching for when an incoming video chat pops up on her computer screen. Emma reluctantly accepts it, knowing her mother won’t stop pestering her until she answers.

“Mom, I’m working.”

Her mother furrows her brows in disapproval, studying her ensemble with a critical eye. “That’s what you wear to work?”

Emma refrains from rolling her eyes. Her mother always has something to criticize her for. “I’m at home, tracking down a fugitive.”

Her mother raised a brow. “You could at least throw on a nice top. Attempt to look like you’re putting in some effort.”

Emma brings her hands together and chews on the inside of her cheek, refraining from responding to her mother’s delightful remark. She’s about two seconds away from throwing her computer out the window. And her phone. She takes a breath and plants her hands on her desk. “Is there a reason you called? Other than to insult me?”

Her mother immediately smiles excitedly. “I want you to meet someone!” She turns her phone slightly to capture the man sitting next to her. “This is our new neighbor, Graham.”

“Hello,” the man greets with a wave and an Irish accent.

Emma politely waves back, inwardly cringing. She has to admit the man is attractive, with brown curly hair and a beard—he looks like the rugged outdoorsy type—but she knows her mother wouldn’t introduce her to some random man without an ulterior motive. Emma knows exactly what her mother is up to.

“Graham is a doctor…” she gushes proudly and moves the phone close to her mouth, lowering her voice to a whisper as if Graham won’t be able to hear, even though he’s sitting right next to her, “and he’s single.”

Emma buries her face in her hands, groaning, but she can still hear her mother whisper to Graham, “She’s much prettier with makeup.”

Emma’s eyes widen as she lowers her hands and gapes at her mother. “I am wearing makeup!”

Her mother completely ignores her. “Graham is free tonight, so I was thinking—”

“Goodbye, Mother!” Emma quickly ends the call, huffing in frustration.

As she rolls her eyes yet again at her mother’s antics, her gaze lands on a certain business card that is still on her desk. She had plugged Killian’s contact info into her phone, but after New Year’s Eve, she hadn’t planned on contacting him again. It was just too dangerous. The kiss they shared had blown her mind and flipped her world upside down. And she’s afraid if she sees him again, she’d want more. But she can’t want more. She’s done with relationships.

Emma pulls up his number on her phone, tempted to call him. But it’s probably a bad idea. No, it’s definitely a bad idea. She sets her phone back on the desk.

She can’t catch feelings for him. She just can’t.

~❤️~

Being alone on Valentine’s Day is no different than being alone any other day.

“That’s for sure,” Emma grumbles to herself when she reads the card after being pulled away from her favorite Valentine’s Day tradition by her soon-to-be sister-in-law.

“What do you mean you don’t have a date for Valentine’s Day?!” Elsa asks in confusion.

“Don’t say it like I just told you I have cancer.” Emma shoots her a glare before returning the card to the rack.

“But it’s Valentine’s Day!” Audrey exclaims, looking up from the catalog of wedding invitation designs she’s browsing through.

“No, it’s Thursday.” Emma rejoins her cousins and soon-to-be sister-in-law at the table. “And I’m gonna take a long hot bath, pop a bottle of pinot, treat myself to a few pounds of chocolate, and if I’m feeling a little wild, maybe even watch a little porn.”

Audrey gasps, looking around the store to make sure no one heard Emma before turning back to her and whispering, “You can’t watch porn on Valentine’s Day.”

Emma scoffs. “You should especially watch porn on Valentine’s Day.”

“So that cute doctor?” Anna asks, changing the subject. “What was his name…Graham? You should call him.”

“Forget it. I’m not dating someone my mother sets me up with.” She wants to gag at the thought, no matter how attractive the guy is.

“What about the mall guy?” Elsa suggests as she turns to another page of designs. “You had fun on New Year's Eve.”

Emma shakes her head. “It was just a one-time thing.”

“Were you attracted to him?” Audrey asks curiously.

“Ugh, no,” Emma claims as she looks down at the catalog in front of her. She’s obviously lying, but she’s not about to tell them the truth. She can’t exactly say she finds him so ridiculously attractive that she desperately wanted to drag him inside her apartment and fuck his brains out. Instead, she longingly watched the Uber pull away to take him home.

Nope, she definitely can’t say that. They’d have a field day of teasing her and trying to get her to call him.

When she looks up, though, she can tell the three women are onto her, all of them raising a brow in question.

“I mean, he can’t even speak English. He says khakis like cockies.” They continue to stare at her, so Emma raises her hands. “Look, the point is, I am perfectly happy being single. I get to do what I want when I want, and I don’t have to deal with the stress of shaving...and plucking...and waxing.”

“That is the best part about being married,” Anna says with a smile. “No more waxing.”

“But what about my wedding?” Audrey asks. “You can’t be alone at the wedding.”

Emma raises an eyebrow. “Audrey, your wedding isn’t for another seven months.”

Audrey eyes her with pity like Emma’s a poor, sick puppy dog on the side of the road. “And you’re already letting yourself go.” She shakes her head in disappointment, gesturing to Emma’s outfit, which consists of sweatpants, a t-shirt and a hoodie.

“Everyone needs to mind their own business,” Emma snaps, pulling each side of her hoodie over her chest. “My romantic status and personal hygiene are completely under control. Now if you’ll excuse me...” she stands up from her chair, “I have an obscene amount of candy to buy.”

God, she feels like an idiot. Why didn’t she just take Killian up on his offer or send him a text?

As she pulls on her red leather jacket and grabs her purse, she can hear Elsa whispering to the others still sitting at the table. “I bet Walsh is still available.”

“Please text him,” Audrey pleads.

“I’m not calling Walsh!” Emma calls over her shoulder before fleeing out of the store.

She floats around the candy shop as if she’s a kid again, making sure to taste every free sample available as she fills her shopping basket with what she deems an adequate amount of candy for her night in.

She wishes she were a kid again. Everything was so much simpler then. No one in her family was trying to set her up with someone. Or if they did, she was too young and naïve to notice.

She pops a bourbon truffle into her mouth as she turns around and promptly runs into someone.

“Emma?”

Her heart drops to her stomach. “Neal?” she mumbles around a mouthful of chocolate, her eyes wide.

You’ve got to be kidding me!

Of all the people she could’ve run into at the mall, it had to be him?

Neal’s eyes light up and he smiles as if he didn’t smash her heart into a million pieces six months ago. He opens his mouth to respond, but then a woman approaches him, shoving a lollipop into his mouth.

“Baby, you have got to try this.”

Emma’s blood bubbles at the sigh of this woman. They’ve never officially met, but she’d found pictures of her on his phone. And not all of them were of her face.

It’s Tamara. The barista bitch Neal left her for.

She turns to Emma. “Do these come in any other flavors?”

Emma frowns. “I don’t work here.”

“Oh, sorry. I thought you were stocking the shelves or something.”

Emma forces out a laugh as Neal introduces them. “Oh, no, no, no, honey. Tamara, this is Emma. We used to date.”

Emma has to stop herself from adding, Yeah, we were dating while you were sending him nudes and he was sending you pictures of his cock!

But she doesn’t. Instead, she plasters on the fakest smile she can muster.

“Oh, it’s so nice to meet you, Emma,” Tamara says with an authentic smile, extending her hand. It’s obvious she doesn’t know who Emma is, or that Neal was cheating on her with Tamara.

Rat bastard.

Emma’s about to respond with something snarky as she shakes the woman’s hand, but the arm wrapping around her shoulders and the warmth pressed against her side destroy the words in her throat. Her breath hitches as she jerks her head in confusion and looks over to see him.

Killian.

His bright blue eyes and that damn smile make her heart fucking melt. Those lips she had felt against her own that constantly plague her dreams at night. The fucking accent that makes her swoon.

What is he doing here?

“Hey, love muffin! I thought you were gonna meet me in Brookstone and try out those massagers.”

Love muffin?

Before Emma can ask him what the hell he’s doing, he turns to Neal and extends his hand.

“Hi, I’m Killian, Emma’s boyfriend.”

“I’m Neal,” he says with a fake smile, eyeing him warily as he slips his palm in Killian’s. “And this is my girlfriend, Tamara.”

Emma feels a rush of satisfaction wash through her when she sees the obvious jealousy in Neal’s eyes.

And when Killian playfully squeezes Emma into his side, she doesn’t fight it. Instead, she flashes him a smile and places her hand on his chest, which is warm and firm under her touch. “Sorry, babe, I got distracted by the candy store. You know I can’t resist some good chocolate.”

He chuckles and brushes his nose against hers.

God, he smells good.

And when his scruff scratches against her cheek, she’s reminded once again of the steamy kiss they shared on New Year’s Eve.

“Oh, I know. How do you think I knew where to find you?” he teases.

Emma blushes and shakes her head. “You know me too well.”

“So, are we done here, babe?” Killian asks her. “Because I have some big plans for you in Victoria’s Secret.” He winks and wraps his arm around her shoulders once more.

“I can’t wait, babe.” She grins and blushes, winding her arm around his back.

“Bye Neal! Bye Tiara!” Killian calls out as he leads Emma out of the store.

“It’s Tamara,” she corrects.

“I think I’m gonna be sick,” Emma wheezes once she’s out of the store, struggling to get enough air into her lungs. She rushes over to a fountain and cups her hands under the stream, splashing water over her face.

He hands her a napkin from the pocket of his leather jacket and she pats her face with it. “Just keep breathing,” he coaxes in a soothing voice, offering the drink in his hand. “Now drink this.”

Emma accepts it, immediately gagging when she tastes it. She hands it back to him, tossing the napkin into the nearby trash can. “Ugh, now I’m for sure gonna be sick.”

“It’s green juice,” Killian says defensively. “It’s good for you.”

She finds a bench, sets down the basket of chocolate and plops down as Killian takes a seat next to her.

“You know, the human body is capable of living to about 120 years if you take care of it.”

“Who cares?” she grumbles. “It’s all downhill after forty. Who wants an extra eighty years of the worst part of their life?”

Killian shrugs. “Well…if you spend it with the right person, it’s probably not so bad.”

Emma groans. “Yeah, I’m sure if you have a woman like Tamara in your life who’s young and beautiful and makes you double macchiatos every day.”

Killian raises his brows, his face awash with shock as he points at the candy store. “That’s the barista?”

She nods and sighs. “Why does the next girlfriend always have to be younger and hotter? Is it some kind of unwritten law?”

“Well…” Killian scratches behind his ear. “I wouldn’t say hotter,” he admits, his cheeks painted with blush as he averts his gaze.

She smiles at him. “Aw, thanks, you’re sweet, even though I know you’re lying.”

“I’m serious,” he says sincerely, shifting his gaze toward her. “Just look at it this way—normally, the younger the woman, the less chance of commitment, so…in a way, it’s actually a compliment.”

She scowls, swatting him in the chest.

What is this, pick on Emma day?

But then she thinks about it for a moment. Maybe he’s right. She points at him and stands up as though she’s having a revelation. But she might just be drunk on chocolate. “Wait, that’s it! He’s afraid! Maybe dating Tamara is a cry for help.”

Killian scrunches his nose. “What, are you drunk?”

She sighs and sinks down onto the bench. “Maybe a little.” She twists around and places her hand on the box of chocolates in the basket. “Those bourbon truffles are stronger than I th—” Her eyes widen, mouth falling open when realizes she never paid for them. She grabs the basket, showing Killian. “I took this,” she whimpers. “I stole it.” She looks at the store where she can still see Tamara and Neal through the window. “I am not going back in there,” she says, pulling out a box of chocolates and removing the lid. “We must destroy the evidence.” She tries to offer Killian a piece, just like Tamara had shoved a lollipop into Neal’s mouth.

Killian jerks his head back and puts his hand up. “I don’t eat that rubbish.”

Emma scoffs out a laugh. “Are you serious? Not even on special occasions?”

He shakes his head. “I’m trying to maintain my figure, love.”

She snorts, doubting a little chocolate will mess up his figure. “Come on, these truffles are amazing. You’re such a coward.” She makes a second attempt, bringing the piece of chocolate to his lips.

He ducks away again and grimaces, obviously not appreciating the name-calling.

She laughs, “Oh my God, you really are a coward.”

Killian gapes at her as she pops the truffle into her mouth. “If I were actually a coward, you’d be stuck in a candy store talking to your ex-boyfriend and the barista he cheated on you with.”

She shoots him a glare. Again, he has a point.

“You’re welcome, by the way,” he whispers snarkily.

She tips her head and blinks at him, forcing a smile. “You’re right. Thank you.” She replaces the lid on the box of chocolates and returns it to the basket before looking over at him again. “I owe you.”

“That’s more like it.” Killian stands up and plasters on a big, cocky grin. “I suppose a hand job in the parking lot is in order, thank you.”

“Ohhhh, a hand job?”

He nods. “Mmhmm.”

Emma slips the strap of her purse on her shoulder and rises from the bench, giving him the side-eye. “What are you, like twelve?”

Killian raises his brows. “You gave hand jobs at twelve?”

She shrugs. “I gave amazing hand jobs at twelve, thank you very much. Still do,” she adds with a smirk before walking away from him and heading toward the elevator that will take them to the parking garage.

~❤️~

“Oh my gods, that’s so good...” He groans, tipping his head back against the driver's seat of his car, resting the back of his hand against his forehead.

“Yeah? Is that enough or do you want more?” she mumbles around the delicious treat in her mouth.

Killian nods. “Mmm....please…more, more, more...”

“Stop moving, I’m almost done.” She giggles, taking more into her mouth.

“Bloody hell, you weren’t kidding, love. That’s bloody fantastic...” Another groan of pleasure tears through his throat.

“Hold on, hold on…”

He doesn’t listen and jerks his leg. “Bloody hell! It’s all over my pants!”

“Do you have any baby wipes?” she asks, swallowing the salty sweetness down her throat.

“Aye, they're in the glove compartment next to the diapers,” he jokes with a chuckle.

She reaches into her purse and pulls out a tissue, scrubbing his pants vigorously with it.

After she cleans up the chocolate he’d knocked over into his lap, she brings another truffle to Killian’s lips.

“Mmm.” He opens wide and bites into the chocolate with a groan. “Oh my gods. You’re a bad influence,” he teases with a chuckle as he watches her take another caramel chocolate truffle and pop it into her mouth.

“No, I’m not.” She sighs and shifts in her seat so she’s facing forward as she throws her head back against the seat.

“Hey, I get it. It sucks running into your boyfriend on Valentine’s Day in a candy store wearing pajamas.”

“Ex-boyfriend.” Emma corrects, glaring at him and gesturing at her outfit. “And these are not pajamas, they’re lounge pants.”

“Right.” He chuckles and nods, obviously only pretending to believe her.

“Believe it or not, this isn’t the worst Valentine’s Day of my life.” Emma shakes her head, taking another bite of the truffle in her hand. But she doesn’t mention to Killian that he's the reason her Valentine’s Day doesn’t suck. He did save her from her ex after all. Plus, he’s fun to be around.

“Why didn’t you just call me, love?”

That’s a damn good question, actually.

Emma shrugs, peering down into her lap in shame. “I don’t know…I just…I guess I was just embarrassed to admit that nothing had changed since New Year.”

“But isn’t that the point of this holidate thing? That we get to avoid the pressure and all the judgment?”

“Whatever. At least the biggies are behind us. Christmas, New Year, Valentine’s Day.”

“The small ones are just as risky,” Killian points out. “I once spent an Earth Day chained to a tree with a lass from Greenpeace. It was the longest ten days of my life.”

Emma refrains from smirking, unbidden thoughts of tying Killian up to a tree fill her mind, though it wouldn’t be for the sake of the trees.

She quickly shakes the dirty thoughts from her mind and purses her lips, thinking how nice it would be to bring Killian with her to family gatherings and other celebrations; that way, her mother won’t keep trying to set her up with doctors or lawyers and her cousins won’t keep trying to set her up with Walsh. Ugh. “I guess it would be nice to bring someone home for Easter.”

“Then let’s make it official. Holidates until further notice?”

Emma bites her bottom lip as she looks at him. “What about sex?”

The corner of his lips tips into a lopsided smirk. “Why? You offering?”

“I’m serious.” She swats him on the arm. “Friends with benefits never works.”

Killian pops a brow, his stupid smirk never waning. “Why do you say that, love? Afraid you’ll want more of me after a couple of rounds in the sack on St. Patty’s Day?”

She scoffs as she throws another chocolate into her mouth, her cheeks flaming at the images he implanted in her head, heat surging through her. “No, because adding sex to the equation always makes things messy and complicated. Besides, you’re the one who’ll want more,” she teases, sucking the melted chocolate off her fingers, her breath catching when his eyes follow the movement of her lips.

“Okay, fine, we agree. Nonsexual holidates from now on.” He offers his hand, and Emma slips her palm in his.

She’s wondering if this whole friends without benefits idea is a mistake, because she can’t deny she’d love to know what it’s like to have her legs wrapped around Killian and feel his naked body pressed against hers. If he’s as good at...other things that involve his mouth as he is at kissing, she has no doubt being with him would be incredible. And she’s wondering if he’s thinking the same when she realizes they’re still shaking hands and staring at each other in silence.

They finally release each other, both of them blushing and sharing a laugh as they look away.

“Could you, um...pass me a coconut cluster?” he asks, scratching behind his ear.

Emma snorts and shakes her head as she searches for the specific chocolate in question. “I’ve created a monster.”

When she tosses the coconut cluster at him, he catches it in his mouth, surprising both of them. He cheers and gives her a high five. “Nice throw, love.”

“Nice catch,” she compliments with a laugh, butterflies swarming in her stomach.

Yep, friends without benefits is definitely a good idea.

She’s sure of it.

A/N: Next up is Saint Patrick's Day 🍀

#cs ff #captain swan #holidate au

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kumkaniudaku · 4 years ago

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Understanding

1. 2. 3. 4. 5. 6. 7. 8. 9. 10. 11. 12. 13. 14. 15. 16. 17

Recommended Listening: Understanding x Xscape, Purple Emoji (ft. J. Cole) x Ty Dolla $ign, My World x Asian

Word Count: 2,137

If you were going to win an award that afternoon, it’d be for attire, not confidence. Your expertly crafted golf outfit was the only thing willing your feet forward once you parked your car in front of Senior’s golf course.

Black women and men dressed like modern Jet magazine ads waltzed in and out of the clubhouse while you scanned the area for your party. You’d been to your fair share of golf courses, but none as exquisite as The National. Marble accents complemented modern brass finishes and unbeatable views of the city. The desire to take photos for your father was almost too much to shake, but you managed to play it cool. Acting out of place was surely some type of faux pas for the wealthy.

Across the way, Senior sat at the bar sipping a glass of water while thumbing through a newspaper. His furrowed brow was identical to Yahya’s whenever he was knee-deep in work or a good book. The mental comparison made you smile before ushering in a tinge of sadness. For two people so undeniably similar, they were miles apart physically and mentally.

You navigated through groups of young and old alike on the way to the bar.

“You made it on time,” Senior spoke without looking up from a story on education budget cuts.

“I made it with time to spare.”

“You don’t get praise for doing what’s right.”

“Think of how much better things would be if we did.”

Senior paused his reading to take a deep breath and shake his head. You mentally berated yourself for overstepping so soon. Not even five minutes into the outing and you had already committed an avoidable infraction

Yahya I prolonged the unbearable silence as he continued to read through another article, reading each line painstakingly slow while you watched in agony.

“I apologize. That was unnecessary.”

“I’ll ask you again,” he spoke, finally looking away from the newspaper to study your face. “Let’s leave the character right here. We’re here for a purpose, so grab your clubs and follow me to the first hole. I hope your game is as good as you are at running your mouth.” Taking his retort in stride, you quickly grabbed your set of clubs and followed with no objections. “After you.”

Senior found himself immediately impressed though he wouldn’t verbalize his feelings. He watched you breeze through each hole with near expert precision, opening a series of questions at hole 5 during casual small talk.

“Where’d you say you were from again?”

“A tiny town in South Carolina that you probably wouldn’t know.”

“Try me,” he answered while taking stock of his position on the fairway.

“Anderson, South Carolina. Home of Larry Nance and the great Chadwick Boseman.”

“Can’t forget James Kennedy, Young Lady.”

You cocked your head back in surprise. “What you know about Radio? I mean outside of what the movie says?”

Senior remained quiet long enough to take a hard swing. The loud “whiff” of his driver slicing through crisp, clean air didn’t match the stroke’s output. Both of you watch the golf ball sail high into the air before making a landing well short of the intended destination. Senior shook his head at the miscalculation before turning to answer your question.

“Black folks from all over are connected, even without all that Snapgram and Facebook foolishness.”

“I could argue it’s helped, right? How else would you be able to share your granddaughter’s first steps with the whole family?”

“In photo albums. You might not remember those, but they did us just fine.”

“Yeah, but it’s instantaneous conversation and information. Who wouldn’t want that?”

“Maybe instantaneous conversation is the problem. We aren’t making enough time to stop and really think about what we’re saying to each other.”

“Mm.” You let the conversation naturally taper before following Senior to his golf cart. The rolling hills provided enough scenery to keep you interested while you sorted the words in your head.

“I think we may have started off on the wrong foot.” You spoke once the cart came to a full stop. Senior trailed behind in silence, gathering a new club while watching you examine the other golfers in the area.

“You’re rather observant.”

You chuckled and plucked a club from your bag. “I’ve been told. Yahya calls me Eagle Eye when I catch something he’s already talked about ten minutes ago.”

“It’s what his Big Mama used to call his Pop-Pop for the same thing. That man was notoriously late to the punchline.” The nostalgia in Yahya I’s voice caught you off guard though he didn’t see your minor fumble. Something in his retelling appealed to your sense of compassion in a way that you considered long gone when it came to him.

“Let’s not beat around the bush. You have an issue with my presence that we should discuss. Because I can assure you, I’m not going anywhere.”

“Bold,” Senior responded with a sarcastic laugh. He gestured to nothing in particular as you squared up to take a swing and nodded. “And direct. Continue.”

You took a moment to hit a line drive toward the green in the distance, using the movement as an outlet for the unexpected nerves churning your stomach. Both of you quietly watch the golf ball for its final resting place before you turned to speak.

“You are extremely hard to please, and it is literally ruining your family. Yahya does everything in his power, and, excuse my French, you don’t seem to give a fuck. Why is that?”

“What makes you think that my love isn’t what makes me push him to be the best that he can? It may not be the fluff and frills you’re used to in your home, but it’s what he needs to get him to his potential.”

“Did it help you?”

Senior mistakenly allowed a quick moment of confusion to take over his features. “I’m here, aren’t I?”

“You tell me. When’s the last time you enjoyed a laugh with your family or felt like you could just...be? You’re carrying a weight that is crushing the people around you, and you don’t even see it.”

“You don’t…” Senior caught his words and bottled them behind his lips. He took a deep breath as he approached his golf ball and took a half-hearted swing. Noticing his misstep, he shook his head. “I’m from Baton Rouge, Louisiana. My father, Yahya’s Pop-Pop, moved my mother and me to a shotgun shack to find work when things weren’t quite shaking out back home. He was in and out of trouble and such. Couldn’t get right, but he had a natural knack for building and design.”

A nearby group of golfers erupted into laughter, helping to break up some tension.

“So architecture’s been in the family for a while,” you asked. Yahya I curled the corner of his lips into a far-off smile.

“A long, long time. It got us out of that shack when my siblings came along and into a house with our own rooms and a backyard. But, my father was a hard man. Hard to please, you know,” he laughed, making a reference to your earlier words. “He wanted the best from me, and he made damn sure he got it. I needed that to get my head out of the clouds.”

“You also needed some reassurance.”

“Perhaps. But, what’s done is done. I look at what I’ve built with no complaints, especially when it comes to my boys. I couldn’t be more proud of the men they’ve become.”

Senior’s proud smile almost looked foreign on his face. You’d never seen more than an indifferent expression or the slight twinge of anger smoldering behind his eyes.

Leaning on your club, you kept your eyes forward to gaze out over the course.

“Yahya would love to hear that. I don’t know if you know this, but he is desperately searching for your approval. There is not enough praise from me or anyone else that could replace knowing that you’re proud of him. Yet, as much as he would like to tell you these things himself, he’s afraid that you’ll think less of him for being vulnerable.”

“I could never think less of the boy. Tough love is still love.”

“Maybe for you,” you added, shrugging. “But, what good is continuing this cycle if it’s hurting the children you claim to love and the grandchildren after them?”

Senior dropped his head in thought before looking up with an unreadable expression. “Deuce will be fine. He’s all the best parts of his mother. I...I’m confident he’ll figure out fatherhood on his own despite my shortcomings. We raised him well.”

“Forgive me if I’m overstepping -”

“That has never stopped you before, young lady.” His light-hearted chuckle invited you to follow suit.

“Fair point,” you laughed. “So, let me cut to the chase. Allowing Yahya to just ‘figure things out’ is a passive existence. Yahya says you’re constantly reminding him to take things into his own hands. Sounds like you should take your own advice. Be the parts of your father that you needed at 33.”

Instead of acknowledging your advice, Senior twirled his club in his hand on the way to the golf cart. He maintained an impenetrable poker face that even the most skilled readers couldn’t interpret. You silently hoped that at least some of your words had made it through his thick skull, but you chose to let the discussion meet a natural end.

As he started the cart, Senior turned to you and smiled. “How the hell you learn to swing like that? I know it wasn’t in Anderson.”

“Hey, we play a little golf here and there!”

“Where? Out in the woods?”

“No, out in the Bayou like you did.”

A small smirk crept across your face as Yahya I chuckled at your joke. He sounded identical to Yahya, full of mirth and beautiful melodies.

“The ole Bayou,” he repeated in a thick accent. “You ain’t seen a place more beautiful in your life.”

“Maybe Yahya and I could visit one day.”

He quickly looked over and shrugged. “Maybe. For now, you focus on defending this lead. I think I’m getting back into my rhythm.”

Senior couldn’t make a convincing comeback, but he did show glimpses of a softer, more personable disposition. He cracked jokes on occasion and asked questions that turned the conversation from a therapy session to banter between associates. Your mind traveled to the possibility of civil family dinners or vacations during the ride home. Though it seemed silly to create imaginary scenarios after one conversation, you couldn’t help the urge to see a better future.

Your happiness helped you float into your shared apartment, making Yahya smile when he caught a glimpse of your wide grin and short skirt.

“Damn, girl,” he hollered from the couch with Leche cradled in his arms. “If Tiger was out there cheeked up like that, I might’ve paid a little more attention to the golf network.”

“Oh, really?”

Your raised eyebrow made Yahya kiss his teeth once he caught on to the joke. “You know what I meant. Where you been anyway?”

“Oh, I was just out doing a little golfing...with your dad.”

“Right. That was today, huh?”

Even Yahya’s best attempt at feigning interest, his question came out in a flat drone typically used on annoying coworkers. You dropped your purse and keys against a nearby barstool on the way to his spot on the couch.

“It was today. I think we had a good time,” you answered as you slid your arms around his neck from behind, placing a gentle kiss behind his ear. “He didn’t yell at me.”

“You must’ve kissed his ass the entire time.”

“No. We talked about how great I am at golf. I mean, I kicked his ass.”

“Good on you, baby girl. Bring honor to our house.” In a surprise maneuver, Yahya pulled you over the couch and into the space beside him. “Is that all?”

Silence blanketed the room, allowing the college basketball game in the background to have center stage. You considered your options carefully, weighing the pros of a potential argument against a peaceful Saturday indoors. Yahya turned his attention back to the television as he waited for a response.

“Did you hear me, baby? He didn’t say anything rude to you, did he?”

“No!” You blurted. Taking a deep breath, you slowly slid the remote off the coffee table and pressed the power button. Yahya blinked twice at his reflection on the black television screen before turning to you for answers. Your fingers danced across his thighs to interlock with his long digits.

“I think...I think we need to have a real talk about your dad.”

----

A/N: I hope this is better late than never. Only two more chapters left! Really striving to have those to y’all by the end of the month.

Let me know if you want to be tagged or untagged!

@earthformelanin @mufasathatniggatho @hidden-treasures21@justanotherloveaffair @jozigrrl @essaysbyciara @chaneajoyyy@determinednot2fall @honey-lamb-k @scrumptiouslytenaciouscrusade @walkrightuptothesun @ghostfacekill-monger @trillistb@shaekingshitup @purplehairgawdess @xo-goldengirl@steampunkprincess147 @twistedcharismaaa @fandomfavesss@bugngiz @lifelover4u @ljstraightnochaser @l-auteuse @itsjustyazz@energy-innerg @lahuttor @sagittariusroyalty@chrisgalore @grandadchadwick @blowmymbackout@supersizemeplz @just-peachee @itskikilove @eyeknowmywrites @aanairb @blackburnbook @leahnicole1219 @lovedersha @cant-decide-at-this-moment @jasmindaughteroftheworld

#Yahya Abdul Mateen II #Yahya Abdul-Mateen II #yahya abdul mateen ii fan fiction #yahya abdul mateen ii fic

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tvandenneagram · 4 years ago

Text

Why Women Kill (Season 2): Rita Castillo - Type 3w2

Rita is ambitious, ruthless and glamorous. All Rita wants is to have a lavish life with her lover Scooter and she sees her elderly and rude husband as a road block to her dreams.

At her best, Rita shows that she is caring and loyal. Deep down under her tough exterior, we see that Rita is unable to turn on her cousin Isabel in order to save herself from prison time over Carlo’s death. She really considers Isabel as family and is willing to stay in jail for a crime she didn’t commit instead of betraying her family.

At her worst, Rita is cruel and callous towards others as a way of deflecting from her own issues and keeping up appearances. She uses her wealth and tries to assert power over others through threats. We see that she manipulates and uses information against others such as the affair with Joan. She also becomes dangerous like we see when she threatens Alma and destroys her prized garden.

Rita is all about her image and how other people see her. She is extremely concerned with her status and likes being the president of the Garden Club. We learn through the series that she came from humble beginnings and she was a cocktail waitress before she met Carlo. She goes to great lengths to present herself as an elite and upper class woman, going so far as to change her accent to appear more proper. However, if you didn’t know this it wouldn’t be evident at all in the way that Rita carries herself and portrays her image to others.

Rita is a very jealous person and can’t stand the idea that Scooter could be with another woman. When she finds out he has been sleeping with Dee, her reaction is to criticise Dee’s appearance and be bewildered that Scooter would be with her. She uses her appearance to her advantage and the other ladies have started to label her as a gold digger due to her relationship with Carlo. It seems like she has hardened over time and that her marriage to Carlo was always unpleasant with a very unbalanced power dynamic. As a result, she changed and became even more obsessed with status and success than before.

Rita has a wing 2 as she is very people oriented and loves to try and charm others or ingratiate herself towards them.

Tri-type: 3w2 - 8w7 - 6w7

Some quotes to describe Rita’s motivations:

“I started the day convinced I would never laugh again. And then... you walked in, wearing that frock. Oh, bless you, Alma.”

“Everyone has a price.”

“I don't want your admiration. I want your fear, and now that I have it, get the hell out of my house.”

“Oh, she's taking you out of my life. Whatever shall I do? Besides cartwheels, I mean.”

“If you can pretend to be interested in a fat girl, you can fake a bit of passion for a middle-aged woman.”

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princess-of-the-corner · 4 years ago

Note

Ok, so I remember Dragon coming up with a Chloe DP au, and for some reason that combined in my head with your post about Vlad and the rich kids and the S4 spoilers so... imagine Chloe at Vlad’s party during a ghost attack, feeling depressed and useless and generally just thinking about being replaced. somehow she ends up in Vlad’s lair, self reflecting in front of the portal when it gets hit by a power surge. Most of the class just sees her being carried out to the ambulance, but 2 know better

Me: “I need to work on all my other fics.”

Also me: “Time to work on several pages of Chloé half dying!!! And another bootleg version of one of Dragon’s AUs!”

Vlad and Danny are on kinda friendly terms in this mostly because I wanted to write them snarking at each other.

Chloé was glad to get out of Paris for a while. A decision her father had made after, well. Certain incidents. Making her feel unsafe in Paris. So she was sent away to a place without Hawkmoth or Akumas.

Smoothing out the skirt of her pale yellow, nearly white, dress, she contemplated the place she ended up.

She would have been prepared for New York. But of course Audrey said she was too "Unexceptional" yet. But as Audrey had to go on a business trip to meet other rich business people at some fancy party, Chloé's dad convinced her to take her to this place.

Not that business parties full of other rich people were something she really wanted to deal with. They were usually too condescending at best. A few of them could be creepy. Giving her looks that made her want to take a shower for a year.

It was almost enough to make her want to stay in Paris. But the one thing that made her decide it wouldn't be too bad was who was hosting the party.

Don't get her wrong. Vlad Masters definitely gave off some strange and downright intimidating vibes. But the few times Chloé had met him at events like this, he was one of the few adults who seemed to respect her, despite her age. And he only used his threatening vibes on any of the other men looking at her.

That said, Chloé wasn't expecting much conversation with Vlad. They didn't usually talk much anyway, just polite conversation common at these things. And as Audrey was currently attempting to engage with him, almost as if she were blocking Chloé from getting near, it was unlikely she would.

"If you're going to commit a murder could you wait another twenty minutes? I have a bet going."

Chloé jumped, realizing someone was speaking to her. When she found who, her initial instinct was to glare. Blue eyes and black hair making her think of someone else.

However, as she took in the rest of the context, she found someone new. And male. A boy about her age.

"Who are you?" Chloé asked.

"Head of security," the boy said.

It was obviously a joke, from his tone and lopsided grin. And Chloé almost laughed at the idea of a teenager being any kind of security.

But she noticed the way he stood, the way he analyzed her. It reminded her of Adrien, in a way. Seemingly all smiles and laid back, but far more capable than he looks.

There was something else about him too. It actually reminded her of Vlad. The general vibes he gave off. But Vlad felt more… firey. Heat under his skin, waiting for the temper to snap. This boy felt more cold. Not emotionally, but like a snowfall that could quickly engulf you in a blizzard.

"I think a name would be better," Chloé said.

"Call me Danny then," the boy said, offering a hand.

"Chloé Bourgeois," she replied, politely taking it. "So, judging by the fact that you didn't give me your last name, you don't want me guessing who you're connected to."

"You probably wouldn't know them," he said. "My family's known for their studies on the paranormal. They're scientists. And not really the kind for this kind of party."

"But you are?" She raised an eyebrow.

"Absolutely not," he said. "But hey. Vlad's trying to buy his way to an apology by giving me money if I hang out and make sure nothing spooks the guests. Other than him, of course. Might as well put it in my college fund. So, you actually planning a murder or not?"

That almost made her laugh. A small smile on her face, Chloé's gaze drifted across the room to her mother.

"No murder yet," Chloé said. "If I do kill someone, it'll be the local supervillain back in Paris."

"Heard something about that," Danny said. "My parents keep debating on checking it out. It's obviously paranormal and magical, but they specialize in Ghosts."

"Are they the Ghostbusters?" She did actually laugh at that one.

"Something like that," he chuckled.

All of a sudden, Danny stiffened up. It had to be a trick of the light, but she could've sworn a mist came out of his mouth. He frowned, looking around carefully.

"Sorry, I have to go," Danny said. "A disturbance in the garden. See you around."

"Yeah, see you," Chloé sighed.

As he ran off through the crowd, Chloé wondered how he knew about the "disturbance". Maybe he was actually part of the security team and had an earpiece in?

Brushing the thought off, Chloé grabbed a drink from a passing waiter. Then she headed the opposite direction.

She wanted some time alone. It had been nice, talking to Danny. But the party was still overwhelming. She might be out of Paris, which meant less stares and whispers. But still too much interaction for her liking lately.

Chloé headed out of the main ballroom. Few paid attention to her. Those that did were quickly dragged back to their conversations.

As she wandered the halls, Chloé wondered if she could get lost in here. If her mother would notice. Maybe she could just. Not go home and just secretly live in Vlad's mansion.

A tempting idea, if she could figure out how to do it. But for now, she settled for exploring.

There was a library. Very nice. Bookshelves along every wall, except for a spot for a fireplace. Comfortable chairs and a couch to read on.

She looked through the bookshelves. It seemed well stocked, despite the impossibility of ever reading them all. Most were nonfiction, texts on various subjects. A few seemed to be typical fiction, though Chloé didn't inspect those too close lest she judge Vlad's collection of trashy romance novels.

What intrigued her was one large shelf, right across from the fireplace. These books actually looked well-used. Texts on the paranormal. Hadn't Danny said something about that? Between this and the familiarity with Vlad, perhaps it was a family-friend situation.

Dragging a finger along the spines of the books, she picked one at random. Pure curiosity more than actual interest.

The book was soon dropped and forgotten when the shelf slid open to reveal a doorway.

Now that had her curious and interested.

A look over her shoulder at the door, and Chloé was in the new room. No, a new hall of stairs. Descending down stone steps.

She was suddenly worried she would find some sort of kinky dungeon type place. Perhaps she should quit while she was ahead.

It was the buzzing in her fingertips that made the decision for her. Something… familiar.

It wasn't like the buzzing she felt near an Akuma, or near someone using a Miraculous. No, this felt more like Vlad. Like Danny. Whatever she was feeling from them, there was more of it down here.

Eventually the stairway opened to a room. It looked like a laboratory of some kind. Weapons and tools of shiny metal and magenta accents lined the walls. There were a few that traded magenta for green, but not as if two people consistently shared a space. More like one occasionally left objects behind.

The one thing in the room that was overwhelmingly green and not magenta was against one wall.

It almost looked like a doorway of sorts. Or a Magic Portal, really. Swirls of green that she couldn't see into. And if she hadn't spent the last year and a half being attacked by Magical Supervillains and becoming a Hero herself, she would've assumed it was just a large tv screen embedded in the wall for aesthetics.

The reminder of her time as a Hero brought back some bitter memories.

She might not have been the best person, but she was a good Hero. Chloé would have gladly continued being Queen Bee, despite the risks, because she had felt like she finally found a purpose. But Ladybug told her no, she couldn't have the Miraculous anymore. For her safety of course.

What a joke. Not only had Chloé been in more danger without it, as there was no way she could defend herself against Hawkmoth. But the other Heroes were still active, even with their identities known.

With a sigh, Chloé attempted to distract herself. Walking around the room and investigating the weapons around the lab. They were strange. She wasn't a gun expert, but these didn't look normal. Not regular guns that shoot bullets.

Were they alien weaponry? That didn't seem right. Chloé wasn't an expert, having never met an alien(as far as she was aware). But the weapons seemed very based on Earth designs, their sizes intended for average Human use. Maybe weapons for Humans to use on nonhumam creatures.

Whatever it was, Chloé was now a bit curious. What did Vlad get up to when he wasn't hosting business parties like this? Did he perhaps moonlight as a superhero? With that Danny kid as the Robin to his Batman? Perhaps she should stay. Be the Jason Todd of the family. Though with less dying.

She almost laughed at the idea. But as a crack of thunder rang through the mansion, loud enough to be heard from this basement laboratory, she jumped, instinctively spinning around to look for an attack.

A second crack of thunder, and all the lights went dark.

Chloé was not afraid of the dark. She never had been, even as a child.

But she was afraid now. Because this wasn't a normal blackout. In a mansion like this, there would be emergency generators. They didn't kick in, which meant this was likely something else.

Amity Park was different from Paris. No Hawkmoth. No Akumas. But that didn't mean there was no danger.

And the thing Chloé had become afraid of, after so many Akuma attacks and even Hawkmoth himself coming to her home, her room, and confronting her. The thing she was afraid of was being unable to fight back.

Her breath began to quicken, the only noise she could hear in the dark room. Heart hammering in her chest, Chloé tried to calm herself down. This wasn't Paris. Whoever or whatever it was wasn't after her.

But what if it was? What if this person had decided she would make a good target? What if Hawkmoth had followed her, hoping to get revenge for failing him as Miracle Queen? What if it was someone else, furious about what she had involuntarily done, knowing that if something happened here, Ladybug's Miraculous Cure would be too late?

Hands trembling, Chloé remembered the weapons on the wall. It wasn't her Miraculous, but it was something. She refused to go down without a fight.

The only problem was that, in her panic, she had gotten turned around she couldn't remember which was she was facing.

Blindly choosing a direction, Chloé kept a hand out in front of her, slowly moving it back and forth hoping she'd hit a wall. Her ragged breathing and the click of her heels on the floor being the only sounds. A good sign, she hoped.

Her hand hit something. A wall, she thought. Somewhere to her left. Keeping her hand flat against it, she hoped to follow it until she found the weapon rack again.

She kept walking, barely noting how the sound of her footsteps changed from heels-on-tile to heels-on-metal. Had the floor been metal? She couldn't remember. The stairs up had been stone so obviously she was still in the lab.

The lights suddenly came back on, the blackout over. Yet Chloé wasn't nearly as blinded as she should have been by the sudden brightness. It was coming from behind her. Had she somehow found a different hallway out of the lab?

As she turned to head back to something familiar, a different brightness flickered on. But she was completely unaware, as all she could focus on was pain.

Burning, crackling under her skin. Through every inch of her. Worse than anything she had ever felt, as Civilian, Hero, or Akuma.

The pain began to subside. Not going away, but no longer the intense agony. Just an ache, but as if she had run a marathon around Paris without being transformed. Her throat still burned the worst though. Had she been screaming? She couldn't remember doing so, but it seemed likely given the pain.

Stumbling forward, she managed to find herself back in the lab. Yet her vision was blurry. So blurry, in fact, that when she looked down her white dress appeared black.

The pain and exhaustion was too much for her. Pitching forward, everything went dark again.

--------

The next thing Chloé knew, she was somewhere soft. Everything still hurt, which made her not want to move. But she could hear two male voices arguing.

"You should let me explain it to her."

"You will confuse and scare her with your morbid humor."

"And you'll just freak her out!"

"I have more experience in this."

"Not in explaining it!"

"I explained it to Danielle."

"And I explained it to everyone else because you had to be a fruitloop!"

"Are you still using that insult?"

"It still fits."

Registering that she should probably see what's goin on, Chloé went to get up.

Her right arm must've slipped off whatever she was laying on, as she almost immediately slammed back down. The feeling that had her jolting upright instead of trying again to be slow, was that it felt like something hit the inside of her arm?!

Inspecting the limb, she didn't find anything wrong with it. It was there. No burns or bruises. The worst thing was a chipped manicure.

As her gaze went further up her arm to her shoulder, she noticed something. A discoloration in her skin. It was hard to see, having to look nearly straight down and only being able to see what skin was showing. But there were thin lines across her shoulders and chest. She couldn't tell how far they went up her neck, or how much further they extended under her dress.

The lines looked almost like lightning. It was then that she remembered the lab. The pain. But she swallowed down her fear.

"Well say goodbye to swimsuit season," Chloé muttered, her voice still a little shaky and her throat still raw.

"Perhaps your humor will be helpful after all," one of the voices from earlier mused.

Chloé jumped, having completely forgot that there were people in the room. One was Vlad, the other was the "head of security" kid. Danny, wasn't it?

"What happened?" Chloé asked.

"You received quite a shock," Vlad replied.

"Oh, and my humor is too much for her," Danny glared.

"Kind of used to puns in horrifying situations," Chloé said. "One of my best friends loves making puns to deflect dealing with things."

And okay yes she also did that. But she was not going to tell them that. Even if the looks they gave each other probably meant they guessed as much.

"Where am I?" Chloé asked, looking around.

"One of the guest rooms," Vlad explained.

"Not a hospital?" She asked.

"A hospital isn't quite equipped to handle… this," he said.

"One of the guests was a doctor who did a general checkup," Danny said. "She was sure you probably just fainted from low blood sugar or something."

"And… and my mother?" Chloé asked.

"She is back at her hotel," Vlad said, visibly bristling. "I may not be father of the year, but her lack of concern is appalling."

The exasperated look Danny gave him said there was a long story there. Chloé wasn't sure she wanted to hear it right now.

"So why would a hospital be bad?" Chloé asked instead.

"That is quite a story," Vlad said. "Do you know what you were messing with in the laboratory?"

"I know it had weapons," she said. "Then the lights went out and I tried to find my way around."

"I think that makes her smarter than both of us," Danny said.

"I didn't enter an unstable device on a dare," Vlad glared. “I knew what I was doing.”

"You stuck your face right up to a prototype device not knowing if it was stable or not," he retorted. "You're lucky you only half died.".

Vlad glared at him again. Chloé could have sworn he man's eyes flashed red. It was more than just a trick of the light.

He said a hospital wasn't a good situation for her now. He implied that he'd had something similar happen to him. And those books on the paranormal, leading to a lab…

Vlad wasn't Human. At least not anymore. Danny wasn't either, most likely. And Chloé realized, with mounting horror, that she probably wasn't either.

Once more she focused on her hands. What… was she now? Chloé flipped through her knowledge of the paranormal. It couldn't be a Vampire or Werewolf. She didn't get bit or infected with anything. Most other creatures she could remember Humans becoming had very specific circumstances or longer processes.

Then, she recalled something Danny had said. His family deals with Ghosts.

As if to confirm her suspicions, her hands flickered out of existence. An involuntary whimper escaping her throat.

"I… I'm dead, aren't I?" Chloé asked.

"Only half way," Danny said.

"That is nowhere as reassuring as you think it is," Vlad said.

This time it was Danny's turn to glare. But his eyes flashed a green color instead of red.

Meanwhile, Chloé was having a crisis. She died. She fucking died. But she was still here.

She was vaguely aware of their voices. Both males had come closer, sitting beside her on the bed. She knew one, or maybe both of them, was telling her to breathe. To focus.

She tried to focus on how strange it was, sitting between them. One burning, one freezing. Was that related to… This?

It helped ground her. Remind her that she wasn't alone.

"That's right," Danny said. "You're not alone in this. Which is already better than what we got."

"You could have had a mentor," Vlad said.

"But you were still evil back then," he smirked.

Oh boy oh boy. This was going to get oh so complicated.

#danny phantom #miraculous ladybug #never let Danny and Adrien in a room together they will murder everyone with puns #phantom chloé au

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starrybethany · 5 years ago

Text

I’m Sure - Adam Boqvist Imagine Part 1

Word count: 3.3K

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

I heard about Adam before I met him. The guys had hung around my office, claiming they wanted to catch up with me, but I really know it’s just because they want to gossip. Hockey players are like that. We were catching up on how their summers went.

“Hey, did you see who was drafted, Y/N?” Dylan asks, wandering around the small room and staring at various objects.

“Nope,” I pop the ‘p’, scanning over the email recently sent to me. “Who was it?”

“This Swedish kids with sick hands,” Alex gushes.

“Really? Is he gonna be the next Patty Kane?”

“Please, like anyone could be like Showtime,” he scoffs.

Dylan pulled up some videos of his highlights, showing them to me.

I nod in approval. “Looks like hockey.”

They give me unamused looks.

We’ve had this talk plenty of times- they think that since I work at the United Center, I should understand hockey more, I think that since I work for United Center and not for the Blackhawks, it really doesn’t matter.

Adam had spent that season in London with the Knights. I had heard about him sprinkled into conversations here and there but really, I just focused on my work as being the suites advisor and making sure everything went smoothly. It was a great year for bookings, and apparently a great year for him.

Alex tried explaining the kid’s talent to me when we were on a double date with our partners, but I still couldn’t understand hockey that well, so I just smiled and nodded. He let that slip by.

It wasn’t until he was here in Chicago that I got it.

For some reason I had been down at the rink, watching practice take place. He had spent a few weeks with the Hawks- weeks that I had taken off to take care of my boyfriend after his knee surgery- and was sent down to Rockford almost as soon as I had returned.

The boys were really upset that I hadn’t met their new friend, Kirby especially, who was a new addition to our group almost as soon as Dominik introduced him to me.

But then there he was, back on the ice. I squinted my eyes, not remembering a ‘27’ on the team. The last name clicks, and I watch as he flies around on the ice, joking with the guys and passing the puck skillfully.

I got it. I understood then why the boys thought he was so talented and why he was back in the NHL at the mere age of nineteen. He played with confidence and speed, a conscious defenseman- something the boys tell me they’ve been struggling with.

Then I un-got it.

Alex had invited a couple of us over for drinks one night and my boyfriend, as he did often, accompanied me.

“Oh, you guys haven’t met yet,” Alex comments, pouring glasses of wine for all of us. “Y/N, this is Adam, the defenseman we’ve been telling you about. Adam, this is Y/N, she works as a suites advisor for the UC.”

“Nice to meet you,” I reach out, shaking his hand. I thought he was attractive, I won’t lie. From the detailed tattoos to the messy hair, he was just my type. But my boyfriend was sitting right next to me, so that was a line I didn’t want to cross.

It didn’t matter to Adam, though. He winked at me as we shook hands, which I found distasteful, but allowed myself to send him a tight-lipped smile.

“And this is my boyfriend, Steven,” I emphasis, resting my hand on Steven’s thigh.

“Oh yeah,” Alex mutters.

Alex always tended to forget about Steven. In fact, everyone seemed to forget about Steven.

“So, suites’ advisor?” Adam questions, ignoring the man sitting next to me. I could feel my boyfriend freeze up at the clear dismissal.

“Yep.”

“What do you do? Just say hello to all of the rich investors?” By the smirk on his face and the small sip of wine, I can tell the dig is intentional.

He knows there is much more that goes into this job than that, so I don’t know why he’s trying to get under my skin. Especially when we just met.

“Um, no, actually, I schedule who books suites for when, what suites are available, who caters what suite. A lot goes into it, actually,” I send him a fake smile.

His smirk just widens, digging under my skin even more.

Steven and I had left early that night.

I ungot it again at the family skate. I’ve never learned how to skate- the guys tried to teach me, but I get frustrated easily so they stopped attempting. I’m stumbling around on the ice by myself, the boys stopping by once and a while to check on me but quickly rushing off to be with their significant others. Steven has work today and we had an argument a few days ago, so I didn’t even bother inviting him to the family skate.

A hard body runs into me from behind, causing me to become unbalanced and hit the boards, catching myself before I fall right onto the ice.

“Ow,” I turn around to glare at the person who pushed me, narrowing my eyes even more when I see the familiar blonde boy and the smirk that he’s always wearing. “What’s your problem, dude?”

“What do you mean?” His accent is thick with his words, making my stomach flutter but the irritation replaces the fluttering quickly.

“You’ve just been rude to me for no reason. What’s up with that?”

He gives me a surprised look, like he didn’t expect me to confront him on it. But I don’t know why he would think that- if you’re going to be a dick, I have a right to call you out on it.

He scoffs quickly, an annoyed expression quickly replacing his surprised one. “You’re overthinking everything.”

I watch as he skates away in annoyance, Kirby replacing his spot next to me.

“You two are close, right?” I question.

He nods.

“Why does he hate me so much?”

He laughs at that and I’m the one who’s shocked now. “Isn’t it obvious? He likes you.”

I give him an unimpressed look. “You’re saying he’s acting like an asshole because he likes me?”

“Hey, I didn’t say it was logical,” he puts his hands up in defense, skating away.

I’ve always thought that was ridiculous. If you like someone, just tell them. And if you don’t, just avoid them. There is no reason that meanness is needed, especially if it’s because you really like that person.

I try to avoid Adam after that.

It doesn’t last long. About a week of avoiding him goes by before I find myself out at a bar with him and a few other players. I had just broken up with Steven, discovering that I no longer did my ‘in love’ giggle with him or smiled when I saw his name pop up on my phone.

But just because I fell out of love with him didn’t mean that it didn’t hurt. It hurt. It really hurt. So that’s how I found myself one, two, three, four drinks in at the bar, too drunk to remember what I was saying and too drunk to care about how I might feel the next day.

I went on the dance floor to blow off some steam, swaying along to pop songs and screaming the lyrics.

Arms wind around my waist and I look down at them, spotting a familiar sleeve. I turn around in his arms, careful to not move my hands. I’m worried of what I might do if that happens- even though Steven and I had just broken up, I’ve been touch-deprived for weeks.

“What are you doing, Adam?” I question, leaning closer so that he can hear me.

“You’re single now, right?”

“Yes, but did I give you permission to touch me?” I raise my eyebrows.

He takes a step back with amusement, raising his arms defensively to show me that he’s respecting my boundaries.

Then I can’t help but think: fuck it. After being in a committed relationship for years, why not mess around with some guy I have intense sexual chemistry with? He’s hot, he’s sexy, sure he’s an asshole but I’m sure that confidence would do wonders in bed.

So, I throw myself at him, wrapping my arms around his neck and tangling in his blonde locks as I pull him as close to me as he can get. One of his hands rests on my ass while the other rests on my hip, tugging me closer and closer to him.

He’s staying with Alex and Lyndsey, so we end up at my apartment in my bedroom. And when I wake up in the morning, I don’t regret it.

I regret it when I go to work the next day. He gives me a knowing look every time he passes me in the hall and even Kirby sends me a look or two.

It happens for a couple more days until one day he finds himself in my office with Dylan and Alex Nylander, another young rookie.

I’d been struggling with work all day, people bitching at me on the phone and numbers not adding up so all I really wanted was to finish the last hour of work and go home.

Then Adam gives me a look.

“What’s your problem?” I snap.

He gives me a confused expression, causing me to elaborate. “We slept with each other once and now you think you know so much about me? Do you think you can hold this over my head or something?”

Dylan chokes on his spit and Alex stifles his laughter, Adam flustering with words.

I organize a stack of papers on my desk, not even bothering to make eye contact with any of them. “I think it’s best if you three leave.”

They respect my wishes. An hour later I lock my door with a deep sigh, turning to make my way towards the parking lot. A body pushes me up against my door suddenly, causing me to gasp and dart my eyes up to see who my attacker is.

My eyes meet familiar blue ones and my body relaxes at the sight, then freezes up again when I realize I’m stuck in between his arms.

“You know, I didn’t really like that stunt you pulled earlier,” Adam breathes out, breath fanning over my face. His head leans down and he nibbles at the skin on my neck teasingly.

I hold back a moan at the action. “You didn’t?”

“No,” he bites down a little bit harder, causing me to wince. “I think you’re going to have to be punished for that.”

“You think so?” I whisper out.

“I think so.”

“Then I think we should get started on this now, don’t you think?”

“I agree.”

And that’s how I began sleeping with Adam Boqvist. Neither of us are looking for anything serious- I want to live the single life after being in a committed relationship for so long and he wants to enjoy his single, youth years in the great city of Chicago.

Plus, he would be the last person I would date.

He’s cocky, selfish, obnoxious, loud- I could keep going.

But either way, the relationship between us, or whatever you want to call it, isn’t end game. He isn’t the person I want to spend the rest of my life with. He’s not the one I want to raise children with or sit with on rocking chairs on the porch.

He’s just a guy I want to have sex with until I find the right person for me.

So, tell me why I’m sitting in my shitty apartment bathroom with two pregnancy tests sitting on the small basin of the sink.

I crisscross my legs on the toilet, fiddling with my fingers anxiously. They have to be negative. They have to be.

I can’t have a child right now. I want to focus on my career and build my reputation in the field. I don’t want to have a baby just a couple years into starting this job. I can’t afford a baby anyways; Chicago is an insanely expensive city and I can barely afford to live by myself.

Hell, I live in a loft.

Besides, I can’t be connected to Adam for the rest of my life. I can hardly stand the guy as it is.

As the minutes slowly pass by, I convince myself that I’m not actually pregnant. The ache in my ankles and lower back are due to stress from work and the vomiting is because my eating habits haven’t been as consistent as they usually are.

I’m just going to completely ignore the fact that I let Adam have sex with me without a condom while I was off my birth control for a while due to the weird side effects it was giving me.

It’s like I’m watching from outside of my own body as I reach forward, grabbing the sticks and holding one in each hand.

Positive. Positive.

My heartbeat fastens and I can feel my breath getting shallow. I try to focus my breathing, counting to four over and over and it slowly helps.

My eyes open back up as I ground myself and I can’t help but just stare at the sticks, switching between the two. I’m pregnant. I’m having Adam Boqvist’s baby.

I really didn’t prepare myself for the next time that I’d see him. I’ve already prepared myself to deal with this on my own- whichever way I decide to do that. I haven’t really decided that yet either.

“Hey,” he grins at me as he enters my office, shutting the door behind him. “I have about ten minutes before Kirby starts to look for me, let’s have a quickie.”

“No, Adam,” I sigh, swallowing the lump in my throat. The words are just begging to come out. I’m pregnant. You’re going to be a dad.

“Why not? Is it because we’re at work? We’ve done it in your office before,” he protests.

I set the pen down next to the pad of paper gently, crossing my hands on the top of the desk and turning to focus him with a serious expression. His mischievous grin fades when he notices that I’m not in the playful or teasing mood that I’m usually in when I see him.

“What’s up?” He questions.

“Adam, I’m pregnant.”

His reaction is not one I expect. His face turns to one of confusion, like he’s genuinely unsure why I would be telling him this.

“Congratulations?” He says it more like a question.

My eyes narrow into a glare at the word. He doesn’t believe that it’s his child. I feel hurt, disrespected, and angry. Who does he think I am, the type of girl who has unprotected sex with everyone who walks?

Not that there’s anything wrong with those girls, more power to them, it’s just- he knows me. We’ve been in each other’s beds most of the time for the past couple of months. I spend practically every night with him, and he has the nerve to doubt paternity?

“It’s yours, idiot.” I can’t help but let that dig slide.

“Well how do you know that?”

“Because if I’m not working, I’m having sex with you,” I say slowly, like I have to spell it out for him.

“Well how do you know it’s not- uh- what’s that guy’s name- Steven’s kid?” Adam inquires, his eyes showing that he’s searching hard for an excuse to not take responsibility.

I scoff, leaning back in my chair. “Whatever, Adam, I don’t care if you believe me. I’m going to figure it out.”

“You better.” And by the way he says it, I know what he wants me to do. I know that he doesn’t want to be a father- although actions do have consequences, there is a reason that abortion and adoption are options.

I can also tell that now he knows for sure that he is the father. And he sure as hell doesn’t want to be the father.

I don’t know why I’m so nervous. It’s just scheduling an appointment- I can always cancel or reschedule.

But my finger rests over the call button for a long time, ‘Planned Parenthood’ looking up at me, mocking me, taunting me.

Do you want an abortion or not? Do you want to be a mother or not? Do you want to go through this pregnancy or not?

There are so many questions flashing through my head. Quite frankly, I don’t know what I want to do. I have no one to turn to- as much as I love the team, I don’t want to cause a rift between them and Adam, and I don’t want to think that we’re closer than we actually are.

I cut out my family years ago.

My friends are all party girls, they wouldn’t know the first thing about a baby if it hit them.

Everything is telling me that I shouldn’t do this. I shouldn’t want to raise a baby on my own, I shouldn’t want to be a single mother.

But why do I so desperately yearn for it? Why did I feel joy when I looked at those sticks and why do I get excited at the thought of little footsteps running around on hardwood floors?

I press the call button.

It gets two rings in before I end it, knowing I’ve made my choice despite all odds.

I need to keep this baby. I know Adam won’t be there for me, but he doesn’t need to be. All this baby needs is to feel love and support and it’ll get that from me and me alone. I need to start fresh, though, to make sure that I’m the best mom that I can be.

“I can’t believe you quit, just like that,” Alex states with a disappointed tone.

I told the guys I quit because I want a change in scenery. That’s not a lie, I’m excited to be moving to the beautiful state of Colorado to start new. But I also hid the news about the baby. They don’t follow me on social media, so they’ll never know- unless Adam says something to them about it. But I doubt he will.

“We’ll miss you,” Dylan adds.

“I’ll miss you guys too,” I respond, closing the cardboard box containing all of my office supplies. Picture frames, pens, cool knick-knacks. All packed into a box ready to be shipped to the mountain zone.

“Hey Adam, Y/N was just getting ready to say goodbye,” Alex says, making me look up from taping up the box with wide eyes.

Sure enough, the blonde is leaning in the doorway, looking unsure for the first time since I’ve met him. It’s weird to see him so hesitant. It’s not him.

But I also don’t feel bad for him. A real dad would step up and want to be there for their kid. A good dad would do that. But clearly, and unfortunately, I was right. Adam Boqvist is and always will be selfish.

I say my goodbyes to Alex and Dylan, the box in one arm while I lock the office with the other hand.

“You’re really leaving?”

“Let’s just get this over with, Adam,” I start, turning to him. He winces when I look him in the eye, seeing all of the resentment and anger I feel towards him. “I’m keeping the baby. I’m raising the baby on my own. Don’t worry, I won’t put you down on the birth certificate. You’ll never see us again.”

His mouth opens then closes. “Are you sure?”

I scoff at the question, shaking my head in disbelief. I go to push past him. “Oh, trust me, I’m sure.”

#NHL imagines #Chicago Blackhawks imagine #Adam boqvist #Adam boqvist imagine #hockey imagines #bimsure

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angst-fairygodmother · 4 years ago

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He Could Be That Boy ~ Alfie Jones x Reader (Me and Mrs. Jones) - 1

A/N: I decided to just go with it. And then it turned into at least a 2 part thing. Maybe 3? Is it a series now? I don’t know, we’ll see what happens at this point. Stupid boy-creature.

Word Count: 1075

Rating: T - heavy alcohol consumption, jealousy, language

“Why do you call him Scarecrow?” Billy asked, planting his elbows on the bar next to you as you watched Alfie saunter off toward a group of giggling girls in the corner.

“Oh god,” you laughed awkwardly. “It’s been a running joke since primary school. Mostly it’s because he walks around like he doesn’t know what bones are. But also…” you cleared your throat, putting on an exaggerated American accent and singing, “If I only had a brain…”

Billy laughed. “That seems mean.”

“Oh come on. You know I’m right. Alfie has one of the biggest hearts I know, but...he’s sweet, and adorable, and stupid. Like a puppy.”

“I guess he’d have to be, to not see that his best friend is in love with him.”

“You are?” you joked, heart racing at how quickly Billy had seen through you, and the shrewd gaze he leveled at you.

“Y/N,” he sighed, fixing you with a firm look. “Why haven’t you told him?”

“Because it always seemed like a bad time, and then he left. And besides...Alfie’s type is tall and leggy and supermodel-y. And I’m...just me,” you shrugged. You had given up a long time ago on that venture, preferring to watch from afar and be there for him when he needed you, usually because another one of his Type had broken his heart.

“I think you’d be surprised, if you give him a chance.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be doling out drinks with your wisdom, Mr. Cliché?”

Billy shrugged, turning back to the wall of liquor bottles, before returning a moment later to place a glass on the bar-top.

“What’s this?” you asked, eyeing it, and him, suspiciously.

“A drink to go with my wisdom.” He smiled winningly, and even you, with your heart set on someone else, were not immune to his charms for a moment. “Specifically, though it pains me to make, it’s a scotch and soda, with a twist. Orange not lime. Alfie may have mentioned they were your favorite.”

“And you remembered that before we even met?” you raised an eyebrow, still skeptical.

“A good bartender knows his customers. And he mentioned it more than once.”

You marveled for a moment at the idea that you had come up in conversation between the two young men, especially so frequently that Billy had been able to commit your drink of choice to memory. Actually, it seemed miraculous that Alfie had even known, let alone shared that information. You nibbled nervously on the end of the straw, puzzling over what that meant.

Alfie looked up at Y/N's laugh and scowled as he watched her lightly hit Billy's arm with her palm. He scoffed.

“First my mum and now my best mate,” he muttered petulantly. “I'm beginning to regret bringing you back from China.”

A few moments later, Y/N left for the loos, and Billy tucked her drink behind the bar for safekeeping, and Alfie seized the opportunity, a spike of surprising anger shooting through him. He shrugged off the gorgeous blonde that had been sitting on his lap and stormed over to the bar.

“What the fuck are you doing, mate?” he snapped, leaning close to Billy to keep his voice a hiss.

“Working?” the Irishman asked winningly, raising a confused eyebrow.

Alfie jabbed a finger into his friend’s face. “Well quit it. Y/N is...my Y/N and I won’t let you toy with her. Find someone else to work.” A pair of finger-quotes and a sarcastic bob of his head accompanied the spat final word.

“Alfie--” Billy started.

“No. The thing with my mom was weird, but I got over it. But I’m not going to let you do that to Y/N too.”

“I’m not trying--”

“You know what she means to me.”

“I'm just being friendly.”

“Friendly? Yeah right. Stop. Flirting. With. Y/N.”

“Alfie…” Billy cast a glance over Alfie's shoulder where you stood, wide-eyed before quickly narrowing your expression to a glare.

“Really?” You exclaimed, catching your friend's attention, tone somewhere between furious and hurt.

All your lives he had hated it every time you sounded like that, and hated himself for being the one to cause it now.

“Y/N! How much of that did you hear?” He grimaced, voice cracking with nerves.

“You are such a selfish ass, Alfred Jones,” you could feel hot tears gathering in your eyes but for a second, you didn't care. You wanted Alfie to see. “You could never want me, but god forbid anyone else does either?”

“Y/N, that’s not…”

Turning to Billy, back to Alfie, you dug around for your wallet, until he held up a hand.

“We’re good, Y/N,” he said, frowning sympathetically.

“Thanks, I’ll settle up with you later, I swear. It was really nice chatting with you Billy. Alfie, go to hell.”

With that you spun on a heel and stormed out of the bar, trying to keep your head high. Unfortunately you didn’t make it far past the closing door before the facade cracked and you sank to the curb with a sob. You curled in on yourself, burying your face into your knees, years of frustration and heartbreak spilling out until you could barely breathe.

“Y/N?” Alfie’s voice was hesitant, and quiet in a way you couldn’t remember ever hearing him before. “Hey.”

“What do you want, Alfie?” you mumbled, sniffling and swiping at your eyes.

He sat down next to you, nudging your shoulder, as he always did, pulling a face to try and make you laugh. Try as you might, you couldn’t keep the corners of your mouth from twitching up at the corners. After a moment, he looked away, tugging nervously at his lower lip pinched between thumb and forefinger.

“Will you come back inside and let me buy you a drink, make things right?”

You sighed, whatever anger you felt melting away instantly. “There’s nothing to make right, Alf,” you said with a roll of your eyes.

“You sure?”

“Of course. I’ll always love you, Alfie, you know that.”

He grinned. “Always?”

“Unless you become a serial killer or something,” you shook your head. “But I won’t say no to another drink anyway. As long as you’re not going to accuse Billy of flirting again...”

He grinned, tugging you to your feet and wrapping an arm around your shoulders as he led you back inside. “Of course not.”

#*grumble grumble* why is he so fun to write. Dramatic ass hoe #I rewatched the series and honestly...Billy who?#I can't do that romcom protag schtick #Alfie Jones x reader #Me and Mrs. Jones fic

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iloveitwhen · 5 years ago

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First Meetings

I really should have posted this a long long time ago but.............. oh well.

@jasonette-july-2k20

Sibling Jasonette

The first time he met Marinette he was pissed, she looked nothing like him! How dare she claim to be the daughter of his mother.

“Listen, little girl,” he snarled at the dark haired teenager who stood calmly in front of him, “I don’t care how you got that name but I do not have a sister.”

“Don’t the eyes match?” she asked emotionless, staring at him in a challenge. Jason was startled and took a better look at hers and felt the blood drain from his face. She was right, despite only meeting his mother for a short time he committed the face in his memory, the girl shared the same shaped rose lips, small nose, and shade of blue eyes that matched not only his mothers but his own.

“My father was another doctor in Ethiopia, I was five when Shiela died and I was sent to live with my biological father’s sister and her husband in France.” She took a deep breath, “look. You don’t have to believe me but I wanted to let you know, I think people deserve the decency to know these things.” She adjusted the strap of her backpack on her back and turned to leave. “I’m sorry you didn’t want me for a sister.” she says as she walks away.

Jason stands there for a moment, he doesn’t know if he wants to believe it, but she had proof on her face that held his mother’s features. Could she only be after him for his connection to Bruce? Was she really his sister?

Sister.

He had to make sure.

“Wait!” he stepped outside of his apartment and looked down the hallway the way she walked but she was already gone. He quickly shut his door and chased after her, letting his long legs bound over the running children down the hall. He skidded to a halt when he came to the reception desk.

“Did a teenage girl with black pigtails just walk out of here?” he shouts at Riley, the receptionist who nods vigorously noticing his panic. He runs out and looks around the small area, luckily he was taller than most people and could easily look over the heads of the few people who were around in the early morning. Unluckily she had disappeared just as quickly as she had appeared.

“Shit!”

“You know it’s not polite to curse.” Jason whipped around and found the girl was leaning against the wall with her arms crossed.

“You played me.”

She shrugged, “you wouldn’t listen to me and I wasn’t sure if you’d come down or not to be honest.” then she pushed herself off the wall and gave him a bright smile and laughed a little, completely different from how she was acting before at his door, “I am glad you came though!”

This girl was throwing him for a loop.

“How do I know you're telling the truth? And what do you want?” she gave him a quizzical look.

“We can do a blood test, and I don’t want anything from you!” she said as if it was the most scandalous thing. “I would never do such a thing, I just wanted to meet you.” she gave another, more soft smile, it was quite disarming and Jason got the distinct realization that this girl could be very dangerous.

---

The first time he met Ladybug he was quite confused. She was standing in front of him in the filthiest part of Gotham in a strange red and black polka dotted superhero spandex suit with thick brown accents. Just who did she think she was running around in that suit. He eyed her warily, she had a similar face shape as his sister except she was taller and had big brown eyes and white hair crafted into twin braided tails that fell down to her waist.

“Please, Red Hood.”

"Look. I don't know you, you could be some evil mastermind for all I care, and besides, I'm really not the person you should ask. Even if this all is real I have anger issues and hearing about this guy really fuels my desire to kill the bastard." He shakes his head and shrugs. "I don't know what to tell you, I'm not even the best detective, actually, I might be the worst out of the bunch." He turns to leave but the girl calls him back.

"Wait. You can help, I sought you out specifically, and you are also quite good at keeping secrets and this definitely needs to be kept a secret. We already know who is behind the mask but we need proof and that's where you come in. We need help, please, just think about it. I'll be here in two days at the same time for your answer. If you decide to help bring a bag with a few changes of clothes and whatever you need."

"I'll think about it."

She nodded and gave him a sad smile before turning and yelling, "voyage!" And stepping through a portal.

Weird. Well at least he’d be able to see his sister, she did live in Paris after all. For a moment he thought that Ladybug could be Marinette but shook his head she would have told him about bleaching her hair, not to say that she wouldn’t be the type to hero around but there was just no way, Jason wasn’t that unlucky.

---

Red Hood waited at the agreed upon spot with a duffle bag on the ground at his feet when the weird hero chick opened a portal and stepped through.

“Red Hood!” she says, relief passing through her features and she spots his duffle and looks at him with excitement in her eyes. “Have you decided to help?” she asks with a hopeful smile.

Red Hood grunts in response before threatening, “look, I don’t kill kids but if this is some sort of joke I might break my rules.” But instead of looking scared she sighed in relief, keeping her smile.

“Thank you Red.” Jason’s heart broke a little at the utmost gratitude from her voice, like no one ever bothered to help her when she asked for it. Before she could say another word the round thing on her hip beeped and when she opened it she grimaced.

“We have an akuma attack. Come on, I want you to watch but stay out of sight.” she called “voyage” again like last time and a portal appeared but she looked back at him and added, “please stay out of this fight, we have this handled and you will get in the way.” He nodded and they stepped through.

She had portaled them to the top of a tall building, it was nighttime in Paris when it was dusk at Gotham and in the distance he saw the Eiffel Tower getting picked up by a giant kid who looked about six years old but was half the size of the Eiffel Tower itself that he just chucked. Behind the mask Jason's brows went high and his jaw dropped.

“Don’t worry,” the girl reassured him. “Gigantitan isn’t too bad, just a poor kid who gets akumatized regularly. Dismount.”

“Dismo-?” Jason began but was caught off guard by the flash of teal colored light surrounding the girl. In place of the suit from before she stood in a mostly black suit with red and black polka dots covering her arms and torso, the bottom was black with a thick red stripe around her ankles and black under her forearms and palms. Her hair had changed to black with short pigtails and her eyes blue.

“What the f-”

“Stay out of sight, I’ll come back for you.” She pulled the round thing off her hip and started swinging it in a circle by a string, was that a yoyo?, and swung off after the giant baby child. Jason was slightly panicked, she just transformed in a flash of light and looked like his sister when they first met. Marinette had outgrown the pigtails and now usually wore her hair down, in braids, or in buns. And her eyes were blue. Jason shook his head of the thought, this Ladybug must have just made the pigtails popular, and plenty of people have blue eyes. He then ran after the hero to get a closer look without getting in the way.

He saw two more heroes trying to keep the monster contained when they converged to meet up with the Ladybug. He decided to get closer and leaped across the rooftops till he could see and hear the heroes working clearly but was also out of the way.

It was clear Ladybug was the leader, she barked orders while joining the fight as well. It was a quick win but the weirdest part wasn’t when the giant-baby-thing was enveloped in purple goo and shrunk to reveal a young six year old boy, it was when the girl tossed something in the air and a burst of little flying things came out of nowhere and magically fixed everything, including the destroyed Eiffel Tower. Jason was very confused. Sure he’d seen some crazy things over the years but that didn’t mean it was any less strange. He observed how they surrounded the boy and comforted him, soon the blonde haired man in the all black suit and cat ears gathered the boy in his arms and bounded away, likely taking the boy home. The black spotted hero with her third partner, pointing to the place he was told to stay and they both sprouted wings and flew in that direction.

“Hey!” he called out, stepping into the light. The two heroes looked over and started in his direction. They landed softly on the roof and their wings disappeared into wisps of white smoke.

“Red Hood I told you too-”

“I know, I know, I just wanted to get a better look. I think I need a lot more explaining.”

The leader nodded then gestured to her partner, “this is Hornet, Hornet, this is Red Hood.”

He looked her over as she did him, her suit was mostly black as well, her torso was black with burnt yellow along the seams in honeycomb shapes and in the same color she had several diagonal lines down her legs. She also had a mask like his though it resembled a bee’s head.

“Nice mask,” Hornet commented, her voice wasn’t muffled as it should have been and Jason nodded his thanks.

“Yours is a lot cooler.” He paused for a moment then continued, “I know it’s late here so we can meet up some other time so you kids can get some rest, I can have an explanation later.” Ladybug’s eyebrow quirked up but she nodded.

“Thanks. Hornet will lead you to the hotel you’ll be staying. Don’t worry, it’ll be safe, no one will find your identity.”

---

The second time he met Marinette, well, let’s just say the magic that conceals the identities of the Miraculous holders did not work on Jason.

I did a second part that technically follows this and explains how Mari and Jason are related

Soulmates Day 2

#sibling jasonette #maribat #jasonette july

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ryqoshay · 4 years ago

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OTP Ask Meme (Impatient Edition) YohaRiko

Again, I know the point of these things is to wait for followers to Ask questions from the list, but reading though this one got me thinking too much. About all of my flagships. And I wanted to answer all of the questions. And not wait for a handful to maybe be asked.

Anyway, credit again goes to @lonelypond for this version coming across my dash. Reblog that version if you want to do this thing correctly.

Also, just because I’ve already answered these here, I’ve expanded on some for various reasons and left others short if I believe the reasons are obvious. So if you still want to do the whole interactive thing, you can still ask for clarification or whatever.

And finally, there will be spoilers ahead for Happy Life, and to a lesser degree the AU, both for scenes I’ve written and posted, as well as some that remain in my Notes and WIP Warehouse. I’ll try to remember to link to the chapters mentioned.

1. Who wakes up first?

Riko. Yohane is very much not a morning person, especially after a late night of streaming.

2. Who wants to stay in bed just a little longer?

Yohane. See above. However, if she doesn’t have time commitments for the day, Riko may occasionally want to stay in bed for some activities other than sleeping.

3. Who takes longer getting ready?

Either, though they are fond of getting ready together and helping one another, so in these cases, they’re done at the same time.

4. When they can’t sleep, what do they do?

Yohane has many rituals for inducing sleep involving all manner of meditation, incense, herbal tea, topical rubs, nightmare wards and more. Whether or not they work is up to debate, but Riko is comforted by the sentiment, as portrayed in Dream Warden. Yohane herself takes comfort from being near those she loves, particularly Riko, while she sleeps.

5. Who falls asleep while watching a movie?

Yohane, though it depends on the type of movie.

6. Who falls asleep last, watching the other with a small affectionate smile?

More often Riko, though Yohane does enjoy watching a sleeping Riko from time to time.

7. Who comes up with the cheesy pick-up lines?

Yohane. 100% Yohane. And she is well aware of how cheesy they are. And she knows how much Riko loves them.

8. Who gets extremely competitive playing Mario Kart?

Yohane gets competitive over games in general.

9. Who accidentally pushes a door instead of pulling?

Yohane is more likely to do so, though Riko can be absentminded on occasion.

10. Who sets the other’s ringtone to something loud and obnoxious behind their back?

Yohane.

11. Who rearranges the bookshelf/DVD shelf in alphabetical order?

Both have their reasons for their particularness in displaying their shelving; Riko likes to be able to quickly locate her favorite doujin while Yohane is considerate of the background for her ritual streams.

12. Who does the hands-over-the-eyes “Guess Who” thing?

Yohane. With as many different attempts at different voices and accents as she can.

13. Who points out a dog when they see one?

Early on, both, though for different reasons; Yohane out of excitement and Riko out of fear. Later, Yohane retains her excitement while Riko becomes more lax in her reactions.

14. Who’s prone to road rage?

Yohane.

15. Who’s prone to wearing socks indoor (or to sleep)?

Either

16. Who reminds the other to put on sunscreen before going to the beach (or pool)?

Yohane knows she burns easily and is pretty good at remembering, though Riko is mindful that her girlfriend can be careless at times.

17. Who carries all the important documents while traveling?

Riko.

18. Who gets the window seat?

Probably Yohane. Likely accompanied by some statement about missing being able to fly under her own power.

19. Who puts their cold hands/feet on the other?

Yohane.

20. What do they argue about the most?

Early after moving in together, Yohane had a bad habit of bringing home stray pets, despite it being against the policy of the apartment complex, as depicted in Hibagon. These arguments subsided once the policy was changed, as depicted in Phobetor.

21. Who’s clumsier?

Yohane, though Riko certainly has her moments.

22. Who texts more often?

Yohane.

23. Who is better with kids?

Yohane is better at keeping kids entertained with her antics while Riko is better at tending to their care, be it feeding them, calming them down when they’re upset or applying first aid; Yohane is pretty good with first aid as well, having had far too much practice on herself.

24. Who’s the better cook?

Debatable. As I mentioned in the Notes for A Roost for Weary Wings, Yohane is capable of producing higher quality results, but also fails more spectacularly. Riko may lack the skills and confidence to produce highly extravagant meals, but she is far more consistent in producing edible food.

25. Who mistakes salt for sugar?

Riko. Despite what one may assume from my prior answer. Yohane will still eat it, not only because she has a strange sense of taste, but also because her beloved Riri made it for her and she will be damned before letting it go to waste.

26. Who puts the fork in the microwave?

Possibly Yohane.

27. Who cooks at 2 in the morning?

Yohane.

28. Who lets the microwave play the loud beeping sound at 1 a.m.?

Definitely Yohane.

29. Who licks the spoon when they’re baking brownies?

Yohane. She’ll even bring her own spoon, as depicted in Valentine’s Taste Test.

30. Who likes doing the dishes?

Riko doesn’t mind it. Yohane dislikes it but is willing to balance the workload after Riko cooked.

31. Who has bigger cravings? What are they?

For food, especially exotic or exceptionally spicy food? Yohane. Although she does have a bit of a sweet tooth, as her favorites would imply. For enacting scenes from her favorite doujinshi with her girlfriend? Riko.

32. Who remembers what the other one always orders at a restaurant?

Both, though for slightly different reasons. Riko believes it is romantic to know certain things about one’s partner. Yohane believes it is the duty of a fallen angel to know such things about their little demons… or fellow angels?

33. How do they eat ice cream? What’s their favorite flavors?

Yohane will often eat too fast and give herself a headache. Her favorite flavors are those of her favorite foods, chocolate and strawberry. Riko eats slower, more often out of a sundae dish than a cone, in part because a dish is better for eating at her pace, but also because it’s easier for Yohane to “steal” a bite or two. She enjoys Yohane’s favorites, but is also fond of mint and vanilla.

34. Do they go on dates? What are they like?

Absolutely. Riko prefers going to museums or orchestra performances, though she has dragged Yohane to several doujin stores over the years. Yohane prefers higher energy environments like amusement parks, though she has dragged Riko to several gothic Lolita clothing stores and occult shops over the years. Both girls look forward to events like Comiket.

35. What do they smell when they smell Amortentia?

Riko smells the slightly sulfuric scent of boiling eggs her parents made often while she was growing up, the clean, salty air of Uchiura, and a spicy, sweet and earthy scent to which she cannot match a specific memory. Yohane smells sweet black lilies, the lingering smoke from a myriad of incense that always permeates occult shops, and a spicy, sweet and earthy scent to which she cannot match a specific memory.

The last scent for both is an idea I had while Googling random stuff for this question. It’s basically how one website describe the smell of Dragon’s Blood resin when burned as incense. I want to bring it up in a scene or two in both HL and HL(AU), though there will be a difference between the kinds found here on Earth and up in Heaven, which may end up as a minor connecting plot point.

I realize this leaves Riko without something that she knows is directly related to Yohane, but I was trying to avoid using incense too much, as it already had three entries between them. Also, it technically is related to Yohane, she just doesn’t realize it right away. I’m hoping whatever I write someday will make that connection for her. Not that she’ll ever smell Amortentia in HL, but…

36. Which one is the secret snuggler?

It’s no secret that Yohane loves her snuggles. Riko is quieter about her desires, but can be quite insistent, nonetheless.

37. Which one offers their jacket to the other when they complain they feel cold?

Riko. Yohane is far more vocal about her discomfort, especially when it comes to temperature.

38. Who reaches for the other one’s hand while driving?

Riko is more likely to do so, though Yohane might as well. That said, I don’t believe I have them owning a vehicle in HL, so this probably won’t come into play anytime soon in my works.

39. Who leaves little notes in the other one’s lunch?

Riko, as the more consistent cook of the pair, she is more likely to make their lunch bentos for the day. (Bonus: What does it say?) Casual reminders of her love for her Yocchan.

40. Who is the most affectionate?

Both are quite affectionate, though Yohane is far more likely to initiate, especially in public though even in private.

41. Who is the big spoon/little spoon?

Riko is most often the big spoon. Though Yohane might try to have one believe elsewise.

42. What is their favorite feature of their partner?

Riko loves Yohane’s smile when she is passionate about something, be it her streams or games or whatever. Yohane loves the way Riko’s fingers dance across the keyboard.

43. What is the first thing that changes when they realize they have feelings for the other?

Yohane becomes increasingly aware of Riko’s behavior and attitude toward Chika and has to make a conscious effort to avoid holding anything against the idol group’s leader; she likes Chika as a friend, after all, and is thankful that she brought her into the group in the first place. Riko starts to include Yohane in her fantasies.

44. What are their nicknames for each other?

Yocchan and Riri

45. Who worries the most? Over what?

Riko is constantly concerned that Yohane’s abysmal luck will eventually cause her actual harm, as in more than just catching a cold or getting a scrape or small cut. Yohane also fears that her abysmal luck will adversely affect Riko.

46. Who initiates kisses?

Yohane all the time, in public and in private. Riko, in private.

47. Who says I love you first? How did it happen?

Yohane said it first in Revelations.

48. Who tells their friends/family about their relationship first?

That’s actually a good question. I haven’t decided yet for this ship. I mean I have plans for revealing that the blonde Mari knows, but as for the couple actually telling people… hrm… Off the top of my head, I’d be more likely to say Yohane.

49. What do they do when they’re away from each other?

Both are quite capable of entertaining themselves without the other. Riko can play the piano and Yohane can play her games until their fingers cramp if they are not actively doing something together. And they have Phobetor and Prelude to pet and take on walks and play with. It’s not until bedtime that they become more aware of the other’s absence.

50. Who gets overwhelmed by small acts of kindness?

Depends. Yohane is more the emotional rollercoaster and could easily be overwhelmed by kindness from the girl for whom she held a one-sided crush for far too long. Riko is also likely to moved, though more through something that fits into some trope she loves in her doujin; good thing Yohane can be quite genre-savvy when she wants.

#YohaRiko #YoshiRiko #Happy Life

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sweetwatercolor · 4 years ago

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Random Death Note Headcanons

Quick warning that there’s a very brief mention of suicide and there will be stars were its mention.

Another warning: I have yet to finish Death Note so I am sorry/ not sorry that it might be too out-of-character and these are just for fun, nothing to take seriously

There is also minor spoiler, I guess, and will be marked with ^ when they start

Rem and Near, they’ll have a pretty interesting relationship

Like I can see Rem playing with Near and his toys

Rem would probably also find Near pretty interesting, I mean he’s similar to L except like a bit cuter

Mello definitely loves macaroon, i just can see it, more specifically chocolate macaroons

Mello would also really like video games, we all know he gets mad when Near wins but every once in a while he wins

May or may not be Watari’s doing

Misa, although I do find her annoying, I feel like she has a relationship with her mom that's similar to Yachi’s from Haikyuu?

As in, kinda neglectful and not present at all

Misa also most likely did a bunch of child-modeling

Probably lead her down a dark hole

L, he doesn't sleep often, that’s just a given fact

But when he does, he listens to white noise in the background

Maybe a cup of Chamomile tea to get the effect going faster

Pre-Death Note Light, I love him

Miss him everyday

Anyway, he likes poetry

Or liked

Light Yagami, as we know, is the most gay-homophobic person in the show

First to Mello

Aiber and Wedy def had a hook-up

Wedy and Misa also had some type of girls night

^Wammy’s House^

This is gonna be more of me trying to find peace in all this suffering

Pretty peaceful for the most part

Yk cause it’s an orphanage for gifted kids and all

Yeah no, gets destroyed when Mello comes into the picture

Like I am guessing that Mello either came into the House around when he was 7-9 maybe younger

Making L around 15-19

This man, he would talk L’s ear off

Does the smart-emo mind?

Not really, he kinda just nods and sometimes does a quick quip here and there

Which Mello would adore

Like L? THE L just did a smartass comeback at me?

Wow

I am basing the fact that Near was born in England because his name being Nate River

Near with an accent, that is all

Does Near talk nearly as much as Mello to L?

No, but he also enjoys doing a quick comebacks to the ginger

Does the ginger like it?

Lmaoo nah

Wants to rip his head off, but like, he cant become L’s successor if he gets charged with the murder of a child who has the hair of a 90-year-old, he could if he wasnt so careless

But alas, he decides is not worth the risks

Now these are kinda sad?

I’m guessing that the House put pressure on kids to be L’s successor, even tho it wasn't the main purpose of the house to begin with

I mean 2 of the first generation’s kids were O-O

***To put it in perspective, one committed suicide and the other became a serial killer

So yeah, pressure pressure

Guess they saw what it lead to and said “oh-”

Guessing they changed the way the things based on the fact that nothing else happens

I love this series so much

Matsuda’s an idiot

That’s it

Mochi, he's a gentle giant

That’s what I like to think, now shush

#Death Note #deathnote #L #Light Yagami #Mello #Near #Ryuk #Rem #Watari #Matsuda #Watari's House #Misa #MisaAmane #LightYagami #l lawiet #Wedy and Aiber #Wedy deserved better #Everybody deservers better

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yurtletheturtlehenderson · 5 years ago

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Yurtle's 2021 Writing Projects

COSMIC: Will Byers x Reader - MALE READER + NON BINARY READER VERSIONS -> plot, dialogue, and love interest will remain the same, but I will finally be fulfilling a promise I made after far too long of making two more copies of this series that will allow readers of he/him pronouns to hopefully feel more represented, as well as readers who prefer they/them pronouns. You deserve an escape just as much as anyone else and im truly sorry its taken me this long. These versions are already in development as I type this out. This will include all seasons, and is something I am working out for Scars That Heal, and all my other stories as well.

AN UNFORTUNATE REWRITE: ASOUE x Reader - Love Interest Change -> Previously Klaus Baudelaire x Reader will now be a Violet Baudelaire x Reader. I asked you guys about this a while ago and I was met with a lot of enthusiasm. And honestly I'm getting worried about my lack of enthusiasm for this series and I don't want to give up on it, not when I've barely given the series a try. And truthfully, exploring Violet as an LI intrigues me more than Klaus. And the deciding factor in all this was Klaus Baudelaire has a small handful of x readers available whereas Violet doesn't have any. Not that I've found. I'm very sorry if this upsets you, but this is a decision I've thought a lot about for months actually and I think it will help get me through to the next season which is where Reader's backstory really starts to kick in. Thank you guys for understanding and I'd be more than happy to talk about it with you guys more if you'd like 💞

I AM NOT IN LOVE WITH HER: IANOWT x Reader -> okay. So this one has really been eating at me all year. I wanna write this one SO BAD. but I just... don't have any ideas. So, if you don't mind, I'd love to brainstorm with you guys if any of you have time. I really really want to make it a Syd x Reader or a Dina x Reader. I love both with all my heart. Don't get me wrong, I love Stanley Barber with all I am, but I just. I can't do a rewrite with him. I'm sorry. All I've got so far for ideas is Syd being in love with Dina as it is in the show and Reader being in love with Syd. I'm thinking Reader has a little brother or sister that is Goob's age that is best friends with Goob, and that this is how Syd and Reader know one another but everything I try to go over the plot in my head I can't find a way to bring them together? I really thought I'd get more ideas with even a hint of what they had planned for season 2 but 😤😡 yeah. Now I have to smush it all together and wrap it up in a bow, or at least I feel pressured to. Anyways, what I'm trying to say is, those are my only solid ideas, and I am ALWAYS open to literally whatever ideas you have and more than happy to hear them, whether they're half baked ideas that came to you from some random shit post or some fully fleshed out power point presentation 😂 all my ideas are one or the other anyway, no in between lol. Point is, help is always appreciated as I do NOT want to give up on this beautiful, well crafted story and its wonderful characters 🥰💞

THE STOLEN UMBRELLA: Diego Hargreeves x Reader -> As I've mentioned before, season one has left the planning stage and is now currently ready to be written. All I need to do is finish planning season 2. Currently, I am on episode 3, The Swedish Job. There's not much I can tell you about this series that I haven't already shared but I can say what makes this rewrite an AU [if it wasn't already clear]; Vanya Hargreeves was never lied to and grew up as the seventh Umbrella Academy member. And yet, her siblings have still shut her out leaving them all with the same dynamic from the show... This book will feature my very first OC! I will explain more later, but the "faceclaim" is none other than the talented Ewan McGregor. I am very much excited for you guys to meet G.R.E.G.O.R.Y. 😇

And finally...

[working title] Not What You Expected: Hermione Granger x Fem!Reader -> This was the big one. For me at least. Doing a Harry Potter rewrite is a big commitment but I honestly just snapped when I didn't see any Hermione x Readers. My goal, the whole vibe im gonna shoot for is wholesome 90s wlw [witches loving witches lol I'm sorry I couldn't resist]. Reader would be adopted by Hagrid as an infant and will have been raised on the grounds by Hagrid cause I'm sorry but he's just SUCH A mum DAD. Another little twist? Veela are supposed to be strictly blonde with "moon bright skin" well since id be the author id say FUCK THAT and bend canon and say anyone of any ethnicity can be Veela, cause yall are beautiful in all shapes, sizes and colors 😍 so basically Reader will be half Veela and just casually charm the pants off of everybody with her veela magic ESPECIALLY Hermione 😉😊. Like im sorry can you just imagine Reader all covered in dirt from helping her dad on the grounds and seeing Hermione and Hermione just 😳 *gay gulp* and then reader opening her mouth an then greeting her with the heavy west country accent and oh no Hermione didn't realize how pretty girls were and for heavens sake, surely this girl knew she had a bowtruckle on her shoulder clinging to her ear and wait. She's ALSO memorized all of Hogwarts a History and- oh no... Like, im sorry but I have NO self control and I just have to write this. Bonus, Harry Potter may or may not but definitely will be Reader's Designated Himbo Friend™ and yes this is what I was asking you guys on your input for earlier. I totally understand and respect putting reader in Gryffindor and Slytherin, both are wonderful choices for story paths for reader. But im gonna do my best to bring as much representation to the table as I can and use the most underrepresented house cause everyone deserves to feel represented as much as they possibly can ☺ i sincerely hope you guys are as excited for this as I am, please let me know what you think about this one as I was pretty nervous to share this idea with you guys. [EDIT: I have a title!! MUDBLOODS & HALF-BREEDS !!]

Thank you guys so much for reading, I know I word vomit a lot 😄 I do promise you my current WIPs have not been neglected and I actually have been working on them a fairly equal amount. Scars That Heal has actually been written for a while but needs to be tied up and I need to find a satisfying way to wrap up the chapter. But anyways, I hope you guys are as excited about these announcements as I am and I can't wait to share them with you! Love you all! 🥰

💕💕💕 - Yurtle

#announcement #cosmic #cosmic 1 #cosmic 2 #cosmic 3 #cosmic 2.0 #an unfortunate rewrite #tsu ☂️#ianilwh #hermione x fem!reader #hp reader insert #hp rewrite #nwye #sth🎈#yurtle 2021

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imagineofallkindsxxx · 4 years ago

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Eternal Flame- Kol Mikaelson 4/?

Chapter 2- And Here I Thought We Were Getting Along.

Summary: 'You never know whats in a persons heart until you truly know them' - Belle French, Once Upon a Time

Singing. Thats all what Alexandra Gilbert has cared about since she was young and all she would care about until she met him.

With Alexandra fighting vampires, werewolves and all between she may do a thing she vowed never to do, fall in love.

And to think it all started with a walk in the woods...

WC: 2909

I came here for a good time not to get abused by a psychotic hybrid and watch one of my good friends get their necks snapped. Wasn't on my todays to do list, let me explain what happened next.

"Ah Dana, why don’t you relax? You and Chad sit tight." How gracious of you, you psycho I thought no way in hell am I being sarcastic to the scary hybrid maniac again, I quite like my head attached to my body. "I assume you’re the reason Elena's still walking around alive?" The psycho question Bonnie

"That’s right. If you want someone to blame, blame me" Bon I love you but let’s not commit suicide by placing blame on yourself.

"Oh, there's no need for blame, love. just you and your witchy interference seems to have caused some undesirable side effects." He told her making me thank whatever god that he won't kill a friend of mine well so I thought. "And since you caused the problem, I’m going to have you find the fix." Wonderful, fan-fucking-tastic.

Before anyone was able to come back with a comment a blonde girl dressed in a pretty outfit came through the doors the opposite side of the hall with her dragging Tyler. Oh, this is getting better and better.

"Get off of me!" Ty yelled at the blonde but I have an inkling that just yelling that isn’t going to work.

"Hush now" the blonde said to Tyler hearing her speak with the same accent as the psycho essentially holding the rest of us captive, wonderful.

"I'd like you all to meet my sister. word of warning... she can be quite mean." He said teasing his sister clearly annoying the girl.

"Don't be an ass" before throwing Ty in to the hybrids arm. I like her all things considered.

"Leave him alone!" Elena yelled futile. I mean did she really think that was going to work.

"I'm going to make this very simple... every time I attempt to turn a werewolf into a vampire they die during transition. It’s quite horrible actually." The psycho hybrid informs us before biting into his wrist and making ty drink his blood which I can say from experience isn’t a great experience. "I need you to find a way to save my hybrids bonnie and for Tyler’s sake... you better hurry" before snapping his neck killing him.

"Jesus!" I yelled instinctively as Klaus smiles at us creepily. What is happening to this town, now not only is the sheriffs’ kid essentially dead but the mayors as well. Wonderful

Matt dropped down to the floor looking at Tyler almost in tears staring at his best friend before saying "He killed him".

"He's not dead, Klaus blood will turn him into a vampire" I informed Matt with a hand on his shoulder attempting to comfort the quarter back.

"And if Bonnie is successful, he will live through transition. Go on then. Go and fetch your grimoires and enchantments and what-not. I'll hold onto Elena and Her" he said pointing at me "for safe keeping" fantastic I’m leverage now. I should have taken up Sam’s offer to give me a ride back home. Bonnie looks apprehensive to leave so I shout

"Bon just go we'll be fine? I assume so anyway." But she seemed more focused on Elena what a shocker and when got the okay from her left. Once it was just the six of us Rebekah came up to my sister looking her up and down.

"So, this is the latest doppelganger. The original one was much prettier" I’m not going to lie that moment seemed to be the only good thing that had been said since I left the boys.

"Enough Rebekah. Take the wolf boy and her somewhere, would you?" Her brother told her like she was the dog not him.

"And here was me thinking we were getting on" I said to the hybrid in an innocent tone. I saw the blonde give a small smirk in the corner of my eye before grabbing Tyler by the t-shirt he was wearing and me roughly by the arm.

"God what is it with this family and being rough. Keep it inside the bedroom will you."

Rebekah dragged me and a now dead Tyler away from the gym hall and to the chemistry class. Mr Jones.

"NO" I shouted the top of my lungs where the vampire stopped and looked at me funnily. "You walk through that door and you'll be washing confetti out your hair until next year. trust me I rigged it myself." She gave me a confused look "Senior prank night" where she gave a nod in realization before moving into the class next door which was prank free luckily.

I saw Caroline knocked out, Rebekah throwing Tyler down beside her. I didn't have to question what happened to Caroline the angle of her neck was enough besides its bad enough having an original watching you like a hawk but an angry one... don't even want to think what the blonde would be like when angry. She sat down on one side of the class me at the other with Caroline lying next to me, my phone starts made a noise to indicate a text my main bet it is Sam to see if I’m home safe.

"what is that?" the blonde asked confused by the contraption in my hands.

"It’s an iPhone?" I questioned back where has she been the past decade "Have you never seen one before?"

"Obviously I haven't, I wouldn’t have asked if I had" she snapped back

"Okay, relax. I'm just going to text my friend that I’m fine, okay?" Trying to calm her down a bit not wanting to cause an angry original. I contemplated sending an SOS then thought I would just be putting him in danger as well, dealing with this bull shit is enough I don’t want Sam dragged into it.

"What’s a text?" Jesus she really doesn't know anything about technology. Where has Klaus been keeping her?

"It’s like a letter only you can send it on this device. look I'll show you." I told her crawling over next to her "I'm texting my friend that I’m safe. so, I type it in to the bar here from the keyboard here" I was explaining it as best as possible for her whilst also replying to the text. Once I taught her that she must have heard vibrating because she heard Caroline’s phone. She picked it up and started to go through her phone, I'm still trying to teach her the basics of a phone. such as I just taught her how to take a selfie and it seems to keep her amused.

"Thank you. I'm sorry I never caught your name?" Rebekah asked kindly which is quite unusual for a borderline kidnapper.

"Uh, its Alexandra but call me Alex, Alexandra sounds so formal even from a millennial old vampire" giving a little laugh that she mirrored. "So, Klaus is your brother, must be ... eventful?"

She gave out a laugh "That's one word for it. Me and my brother have a complicated relationship." She told me smiling at me "I overheard your sisters with the doppelganger?" She questioned about Elena causing me to roll my eyes "Not a fan I take it."

"You could say that. Just like you and Klaus our relationship is complicated."

"If only families were easy"

I went to reply in agreement until I heard groaning coming from the direction Caroline was lying in making me snap my head quick enough to give me whiplash.

"Care" I rushed to her side "Are you okay? How's the neck?" I asked quickly making sure my friend was okay and in the right mind set for what she is about to see. From behind me I could hear the British voice I have grown used to in the past hour.

"We didn't have mobile telephones in my day. Would have made life a lot easier I suppose." Ending with taking a selfie which I smirked at. Caroline didn't have time to engage in conversation about her phone or wellbeing being more concerned about her boyfriend.

"Where's Tyler?" In a panic Rebekah answered her question calmly.

"He's dead. ish" Moving a bit to let Caroline have visual of her dead not so dead boyfriend.

"What did you do to him?" Caroline was starting to get a bit angry and I'm not sure if I want to see a fight between these two from such close proximity.

"Think of it as he's having a nap. When he wakes up, hell he a hybrid." Rebekah informed her

"Klaus turned him, Caroline. His hybrids are failing and we need Bonnie to find a spell to make sure Ty is a success and well lives." I told her giving her the run down of what is happening.

Nevertheless she races up and put her head to his chest to try and find a heart beat. While watching Caroline trying to wake Tyler hopelessly Rebekah was swiping through the photos she had taken with the help of yours truly before coming across a cute picture of Elena and Stefan

"Ugh. Vomit." She said disgusted by the picture before seeing something familiar in the picture and not just Stefan. She zoomed in to the neckless Elena wore since a few days in their relationships before getting up and turning to me shouting "Why is that doppelganger bitch wearing my necklace?!" making me jump a bit.

"Your necklace? That’s the necklace Stefan gave Elena at the beginning of their relationship. How is it your necklace?" I retorted confused on how Elena managed to get a necklace from a vampire whose been in a box for ninety years.

she stormed out of the class with me following slowly compared to her you know seeing as she’s a vampire and all. She marched into the gym hall towards my sister

"Where is it?!? Where is my necklace?" Shouting at Elena to give her necklace to the proper owner.

"What are you talking about?" Asked Rebekah’s big brother confused looking between me and his sister. Giving him the phone, she showed him the picture of the couple with Rebekah’s necklace.

"She has my necklace. Look."

"Well, well, more lies" he replies looking at Elena and Stefan.

"Where... is it?" Rebekah asks slowly and honestly her being somewhat calm is even more terrifying than her furious.

"I don't have it anymore" Elena tells the original which she finds unsatisfactory.

"Your lying!" she bellows before biting Elena’s neck which then Klaus pulls her off and takes her over to the side.

"Knock it off!" Klaus warns his little sister but she isn't backing down that easily, it was her necklace for nine centuries to be fair.

"Make her tell me where it is Nik!" she whines to her brother convincing the hybrid to talk to the doppelganger.

"Where's the necklace, sweet heart? Be honest" trying to convince her to tell them where the necklace is

"I'm telling the truth. Katherine stole it." Elena defends herself, first time for everything I suppose.

"Of course it would be that bitch." I muttered the same time as Klaus yells out dramatically,

"If we had the necklace, it would make things a whole lot easier for your witch, but since we're doing this the hard way, let's put a clock on it, shall we?" Declaring that he was putting a time on this, setting the dreadful noise of the gym clock buzzes and it’s set to twenty minutes stop clock. After this he begins to compel Stefan "Twenty minutes. If Bonnie hasn't found a solution by then, I want you to feed again. Only this time, I want you to feed on Elena. You know you want to." Oh, fantastic my sister is going to be a drained blood bag if Bon doesn’t find the right spell out of thousand within 20 minutes. Wonderful.

"No, Klaus! don't do this to him!" My sister yells. When is she going to get it through her thick head that these are the Salvatore’s or Katherine these are thee vampires, they don’t take orders from a human even if they are a Petrova doppelganger.

"No one leaves. If she tries to run, fracture her spine".

"Oh how delightful" I muttered.

Rebekah grabs my arm albeit gentler this time taking me away with her and Klaus.

"No! Alex! Let her go please!" I hear Elena beg for my life, which although we are sisters is a nice feeling that she remembered about me.

"Oh love, don't worry your precious Alex will be quite alright with my dear sister." Klaus retorts before walking through the doors to go out to the corridor. "I'm sorry your brought into all this sweet heart." Klaus apologise not even sounding a tad sincere.

"Yeah, let’s just say next time I’m offered a ride I’ll be taking it. rather not get brought into my sisters mess again" this makes Rebekah smirk as we depart ways from her brother to head towards the class we left Caroline and Tyler in.

After a long seventeen awkward minutes with the two blondes sitting opposite sides of the rooms me in the middle being a barrier of sorts but as soon as it hit the three minute left mark Tyler woke up making me race towards the werewolf turned hybrid

"Where am I? What happened?" Tyler questioned the two of us, seeing Rebekah and looking extremely confused

"Tyler" Caroline began but Rebekah interrupted before she could say anymore

"Don't be shy about it."

"What’s going on?" Tyler still and rightly so confused I would be as well if I woke up in a class from a broken neck with three females two vampires.

"Klaus is turning you into a vampire. A hybrid. You’re in transition" Caroline starts off being kind and leaving the hard bits out.

"Don’t leave the hard bits out sweets. you-" but I cut her off

"You'll only live if Bonnie is successful but if she doesn't find a solution then... you'll die" I told him trying to block out any emotion that would rub off on to him and Caroline but not succeeding seeming stressed and upset.

"You’re going to be okay. Okay? It's going to be okay." Caroline says not only trying to convince Tyler but herself also.

"I wonder how she's doing." Showing us the time left on her clock only being two minutes "Tick Tok goes the gym clock."

I look upset and stressed I step outside in the hallway leaving the couple to have a moment but Rebekah follows "I'm sorry, Alex. I don't know what I'd do if someone tried to hurt my brothers the way you are. I'm so sorry" her apology seeming to be more sincere compared to her brothers earlier. I nodded in thanks not wanting to seem remotely weak. Tyler will live. He has to.

I breathe in and out steadying my heart rate before going back into the class where Caroline and Tyler are situated obviously upset, nervous and worried from the look on their face. But after a few minutes and most likely the death of my sister which brings tears to my eyes an unlikely hero comes to save the day and that person is Klaus Mikaelson.

"Well verdicts in. The original witch says the doppelganger should be dead." Making me deflate tears finally running down my cheeks at the thought of my sister dying. I may not have seen eye to eye with her but she was still my sister.

"Does that mean we get to kill her?" Seeming happy until she seems me and then tries to hide her excitement failing in doing so.

"No, I’m fairly certain it means the opposite." He tell his sister

"Wait Elena is alive?" I question the hybrid in which he ignores but putting two and two together I breathe in a sigh of relief that my twin sister is alive.

"What?!?" Rebekah exclaims also being partly ignored by her brother. She pulls Caroline and myself back so we don’t interrupt any process of what will happen such as Klaus feeding my friend my sisters’ blood out of a small test tube.

"Elena’s blood drink it"

"Tyler no!" Caroline yells in warning

"Caroline! He’s dead either way!" Giving her a pleading look if she can be quiet and let this psycho feed him Elena’s blood.

"At least we can agree on something sweet heart" He says talking to me making me glare at him.

After a struggle Tyler finally drinks the blood in the test tube.

"There we go good boy"

"He isn't a dog" I snarked towards the original which he returned with a glare with the same amount of malice I sent him.

"And here was me thinking we were getting along" mirrorring my words earlier.

Once Tyler had finished drinking her blood he coughs and falls to the floor from rolling about on the desk that he was lying on. He was screaming and groaning before he holds his head and screams so loud it hurts my normal human ears. his face finally changes: His eyes are golden and he has fangs along with veins under his eyes just like a vampire. I glanced at Caroline worriedly when Klaus said.

"Well, that's a good sign"

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

A/N: long chapter for me anyway.

Again hope there's not too mistakes e.g. grammar, spelling, Americanisms.

if you have anything to say please don't hestitate to comment. I appreciate all positive and negative feedback

Next chapter is really a tad of her relationship with the boys and part of the next episode.

Thanks for reading Lovelies xxx

#kol mikaelson imagine #kol mikaelson x you #kol mikaelson x reader #kol mikaelson #kol mikaelson series #the vampire diaries imagine #the originals imagine

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