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roseblack2222 · 9 months

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I need help badly. I’m not sure where else to turn, so I’ll post here. Does anyone at all know a man maned Ernest Treverson? Blonde hair, green eyes, above average height, big on jogging. I can’t find him anywhere and it’s because of that thing, that abomination.

I suppose some background is necessary. Ernest and I went way back from meeting in eighth grade and since then we did pretty much everything together. We were like magnets sticking together. Now, I will say while he was always health-conscious, I was anything but. He’d be having a protein shake a day and the only protein I’d be getting would be from a Big Mac large combo.

The topic of my weight would be brought up a lot by both family and friends much to my annoyance. I was in denial which resulted in me being morbidly obese up until about two years ago. Ernest and I kept in touch after graduation. He continued his passion for fitness and became a motivational instructor. Meanwhile, I didn’t have money for college so I ended up taking different office jobs, something where I could sit on my ass all day.

This, of course, didn’t help my weight problem. It was getting worse and a visit to my doctor gave me a serious reality check. Extreme cholesterol and on the verge of becoming diabetic will give anyone a serious fright. Not to mention, the heartburn I would occasionally experience around that time. In fact, he said I was lucky I hadn't experienced a heart attack at that point.

I was scheduled with a nutritionist who informed me if I wanted this reversed, I would need a serious lifestyle change. The issue is I’ve never been good at committing to something like that. I’d try crash diets plenty of times only to fall off them mere months later. That night after my nutrition appointment, I did a lot of introspection, going over each time I tried and failed to change my habits. I already knew where I was going wrong.

The main issue is that, as unhealthy as my lifestyle was, it was comfortable. Exercise and healthy eating require dedication. Why do all that when you can get a Baconator from Wendy’s? Convenient and satisfying with the only drawback of clogging your arteries like wet cement through a garden hose. The more I thought about things, the more I began to realize the reason I kept failing was that I would always rely on willpower alone.

What I required was outside help and therefore, I turned to Earl. We both didn’t work weekends so I gave him a call.

“Travis, how’s it going?”

“Can you help me with something?”

“Sure, what?”

I explained everything to him and his response almost made it seem as if he’d been expecting this from me for a while.

“I can help you no problem, but if you aren’t willing to make a permanent change then there’s no point.”

Even though his words stung, I knew he was right.

“How do you do it?” I asked. “It’s so hard for me.”

“Well, why don’t you come over tomorrow and we can see if we can figure something out? Be there early and bring your jogging clothes.”

Another way in which we differed was that he was a morning person who’d be up an hour prior to the crack of dawn. Meanwhile, if work wasn’t a factor, I’d be awake bright and early at two in the afternoon. I drove to his place and parked in his driveway. He must’ve already heard my car’s engine because he came out to greet me.

“Why’d this have to be so early?”

“You’ll be doing more than that if you’re serious about turning things around.”

We went inside and talked for a bit on his couch and I told him how it was hard for me to resist temptation.

“Have you considered that your issue may be you’ve been trying to do too much at once?”

“What do you mean?”

“Okay, you said that you always try to only eat healthy with your diet, right?”

“Yeah.”

"And that you only tried to eat healthily?"

"What about it?"

"What if instead, you used certain foods as an incentive?"

That piqued my interest so I asked him to elaborate.

“In short, instead of quitting the food you like altogether, try the healthy alternatives like I mentioned and give yourself a cheat day.”

“Cheat day?”

“Where you treat yourself to whatever foods you want for a day.”

“That might work. Is it a once-a-week thing?”

“How often did you say your diets lasted again?”

“Only a few months, four at the most.”

“Then try a once-a-month cheat day.”

I thought about it and saw no fault in his logic. If I was able to go months at a time without junk food, in theory, what Earnest was proposing made sense.

“Now, you’ll slip up sometimes,” he continued. “Don’t worry about that. It happens. Besides, once we get you in shape, you’ll be able to afford a few extra treats outside of your cheat days. Just don’t overdo it. Anyway, are you ready to get started?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be I guess.”

Ernest told me to pick an exercise to help with my weight loss and I chose jogging because it seemed like the easiest. That didn’t mean it wasn’t difficult. Over the next few months, I was subject to two-hour-long runs and my feet would be screaming at me by the end of them. My diet also changed drastically and it actually wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be. Ernest gave me some of his recipes, including a pretty good protein shake.

Turns out that no matter what you put in if you add chocolate that’s all you’ll taste. Even though I didn’t find turkey burgers as good as beef, the way he had me prepare them was undeniably tasty. I should mention, my two-hour runs were spaced out, once in the morning and the other after work, and two hours straight on my days off. I wanted to quit plenty of times and I would have if not for Ernest.

He kept pushing me and while I did get irritated with him, he remained patient. I apologized to him and he laughed it off, saying he’s dealt with much worse. Eventually, my hard work paid off and my pounds slowly shed. It felt great., especially in contrast to how I was originally. I was proud of myself and so was he. In fact, when I hit my goal he treated me to pizza at a local spot we went to often back when we were in school.

He paid most of the time. I don’t want to get too off-topic, but I didn’t have the best home life growing up so I would spend a lot of time at his place. Eating at that place really took me back. Even after my weight loss, he and I would still jog together. We would talk which would help time fly.

By then, he’d gotten a girlfriend named Kristy which meant he and I weren’t hanging out as much. That’s to be expected, though. However, about two weeks ago something happened during one of our jogs. Looking back, something about that night felt off and in retrospect, we should have recognized that as a warning sign. We met at the usual trail and found that we were the only ones there.

“Looks like it’s going to be quiet,” Ernest commented as we were stretching.

“Fine by me,” I replied, “I hate having to deal with the cyclists.”

We hit the trail and made conversation as usual.

“So. how’s work?” he asked me.

“Pretty good, I switched jobs.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, it’s weird. It’s hard for me to sit still for a long time now. I wanted something where I was moving around more.”

“What did you switch to?”

"Security at the natural history museum."

"Cool."

"Thanks, anyway what's been going on with you?"

He glanced at me and his lips curled into a smile.

"What is it?" I asked with a slight chuckle.

"I'm going to ask Kristy to marry me."

"Holy shit. Are you serious? Dude, that is awesome. Who else have you told about this?"

"Only you."

"Only me?"

"Yeah because you won't talk. Kristy means a lot to me so I want to get this right."

He and her really did make a good couple. I just wish their relationship didn't have to end the way it did.

"Well, good luck with that. Let me know where the wedding will be so I can drop off my gift."

"Come on, Travis, don't be like that. You know you're the only one I want as my best man."

Truth be told, I've never seen the appeal of weddings. However, in Ernest's case, I was willing to make an exception. We were coming up to a curve in the trail that was overshadowed by branches.

"Alright, I guess I can pop in for a little while."

"Hell yeah, that's the spirit. I knew I could count on you."

"No prob-"

I stopped. Then so did he.

"Travis? What's wrong?"

I pointed and he squinted. Then he grew concerned as well. There was a long-haired woman sitting on the trail. She was in a crouching position and from what we could tell, she had her arms wrapped around her knees.

“Do you think she’s an addict?” I whispered, not wanting to alert her.

“Could be,” Ernest replied. “She must be freezing.”

The woman was only wearing a gown similar to the ones in hospitals.

“Maybe she got out of a facility,” I said. “Know what? I’m getting a bad feeling about this. We should head back.”

“What if she needs help?”

“Then we’ll call someone.”

“Like who, the cops? Come on, you know how they treat these kinds of people. Besides, what can she really do against the two of us?”

I couldn’t deny his points. Still, I wasn’t able to shake off the sense something wasn’t right.

“Look,” Ernest went on, “we’ll see if she has a medical band and if it has a number we can call. If not, we’ll turn around and leave. Sound good?”

“I guess.”

We approached the woman. Ernest was in front with me slightly behind him.

“Excuse me,’ he called out to her. “Do you need some help?”

She shifted slightly but didn’t respond. Up close, we could now see her skin was eerily pale. I wondered how long she’d been out there before we found her. Ernest stepped closer and I watched closely. What happened next did so in slow motion.

He reached for her and that’s when she acted. She looked up from the trail. Her face made my breath stop. It wasn’t ugly. It was wrong.

I don’t know how else to explain it other than it was as if she was never meant to be there. I wanted to shout at Ernest to get away from her. Before I could, it was already too late. Her hand shot out, grabbing his wrist exposed between his glove and sleeve. He vanished.

It wasn’t some rapture scenario where his clothes were left behind. He was completely gone simply by that woman making contact with him. She stood up fast and I could now see that her arms were incredibly long. They had multiple joints giving them a crooked appearance. She used a nearby branch for support.

It vanished too. What was unsettling is that there wasn’t even any imprint or indication a tree was ever there. I backed up slowly and I swear she smiled at me. I didn’t waste another second. I bolted.

She was fast and in the back of my mind, I was questioning how she was able to keep up without shoes on. Then again, there’s no way she could’ve been human. I’m so grateful for Ernest whipping me into shape because that saved my ass. I didn’t dare glance back.

However, every so often I would feel the breeze on the back of her neck when she tried swiping at me. I pushed myself harder than I ever have in my life. Up ahead, was the parking lot. To my confusion, Ernest’s car wasn’t there anymore. I didn’t have time to think about that, though.

I hit unlock on my keys and yanked the door open, slamming it closed and locking it when I was inside. As soon as I was, I jumped as the woman’s hand slammed against my window. She began pounding it in an enraged frenzy and a crack was quickly forming. Shakily, I jammed my keys into the ignition and turned it. The engine roared to life and I reversed it, speeding the fuck out of there with her still giving chase.

I glanced at my rearview mirror, She was standing at the edge of the parking lot, screaming her head off. The sound of it was deafening and it made my windows rattle. When I got home, I immediately reported Ernest missing. Then I called Kristy. Her reply has left me shaken to my core.

“Who’s Ernest?”

My veins turned my blood to frost.

“What the hell do you mean?” I shouted.

“Travis, calm down.”

“Ernest, you know, the guy who’s been your boyfriend for the last four years?”

“I’m sorry. I don’t know what you’re talking about. Look, I don’t know if you’re on drugs or something, but you should get help.”

She hung up, leaving me dumbfounded. Was this a joke? I couldn’t imagine her pulling a prank this cruel. I tried his parents next and got a similar result. I even tried his sister, Ann and some of our other friends. They all thought I had lost it.

The police contacted me and I was told not to waste their time by giving fake reports. I couldn’t believe it. Nobody else believed Ernest ever existed. I’ve tried convincing people to no avail. Whatever scenario they met him in has been wiped completely from their memories.

I’ve even asked how I met them since sometimes Ernest introduced me to people. They’ll describe the correct places only without Ernest there and with someone else introducing me aside from him. None of this makes any sense. Ann insists it was her I spent the most time with when we were younger. Both of them were less than a year apart.

I don’t get what’s going on. There’s no way all my memories can be wrong. I may have a lot of flaws, but forgetfulness isn’t one of them. I know there was an Ernest Treverson who was my best friend. I know we grew up together and I know he’s the only reason I’m still here to type this.

I know all this and that I’m not crazy, because I still have a gift he bought me. It’s a Fitbit that he ordered online and nobody else can confirm they brought it for me. I even checked through my order history on every account I have which means I couldn’t have been the one to buy it. Too bad that won’t be enough to convince people. At the very least, it’s given me some peace of mind.

I’m not sure why I’m the only one who remembers him. Maybe it has something to do with the fact I was the last person to see him before he disappeared. What was that woman and where did she come from? What is she? I’ve been trying to figure that out for weeks now and have come up with nothing.

It’s as if she made it so Ernest never even existed in the first place. How many others has she done this to? When someone dies or goes missing, there’s usually something they leave behind. Even blood or a butchered corpse are signs that a thinking feeling person with family and friends once lived. No matter how gruesome, they were signs a person was once here.

Ernest doesn’t even get that. I’m so angry about all of this. I want to confront that woman again. I want to make her pay for what she did and demand she bring him back, but I know that I would only end up meeting the same fate in all likelihood. Still, if anyone knows anything that might help bring him back, please share it.

That woman didn’t kill him. She made it so he was never here, to begin with, and to me, that is a very scary thing.

Author's note: It's been a while since I uploaded a story here, This one was originally posted to the NoSleep subreddit and I thought I'd share it with you all. If you read it, let me know what you think and if you like it consider tipping me, checking out my links at the end of the story, or just sharing my work. Whatever you can do helps and is appreciated.

#horror #horror stories #writing community #nosleep #horror fiction #horror story

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moonchild-things · 1 year

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Chapter Five: Girl’s Day In

Summary: Iris' first year at Hogwarts has finally come to an end. After the chaos that ensued during her fifth year, she's ready to graduate in two years. As her relationship with Sirius picks up traction and she makes new friends, Iris wants to enjoy her time before she’s forced into adulthood.

Word Count: 3211

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"YOU ARE SO FULL OF IT!" MARLENE shrieked in laughter as she nearly fell off of the chair that she was sitting on. Her brown hair swayed in front of her eyes as she seemingly screamed in laughter at the story that Iris was telling her along with the other girls.

The group of witches all sat around Wendy's extremely spacious bedroom as they gossiped with each other. Summer was coming to an end which left them a minimal amount of time to hang out with each other at their homes before school started up once again. Additionally, there was only a short bit of time before Ida and Matilda also had to start up school. Yes, the french couple had come to England to spend time with the girls. It would only be for a short time, but they were determined to make it an exciting visit.

This included joining the twins as they went to the Hunt household. Much like the Potter family, Wendy's family was quite wealthy and respected among the wizarding community. This meant that Wendy's house was quite... exuberant.

Honestly, Iris had questioned whether or not she could move in with Wendy since she lived in a mansion that looked like it could be a hotel. There was also a yard that looked like it spanned for miles! Iris couldn't imagine what it would be like to have a space like this where she could freely run in her animagus form whenever she pleased.

Currently, the group was lounging around Wendy's bedroom enjoying each other's company. Iris laughed along with Marlene with about the same amount of gusto, "I'm not! I swear! She screamed bloody murder and it woke up nearly the whole village!"

"It was quite mean," Lily piped up as she shook her head disapprovingly, "Samantha was terrified, Iris."

Wendy raised an eyebrow as she sat on the small sofa in her room alongside Ida and Matilda, "How can you be terrified about your hair changing color?"

"Not very scary..." Ida tilted her head in consideration, not understanding how it was frightening for your hair to change different colors. The french girl liked her hair just as much as anyone else, but to be scared because her hair changed color, she couldn't understand it. Plus it didn't seem like that bad of a color. Ida would kind of like it if she had died her hair green. Well, not the "ugly" shade that Lily and Iris had described, but maybe a light green or something aesthetically pleasing.

Iris shook her head, "Oh, for Samantha, it is. She loves her precious blonde hair! She's nothing without it, or her makeup, or her expensive clothes."

"She sounds like a bitch," Matilda said bluntly. Her short words earned laughter from all of the other girls, even a small chuckle from Lily though she was quick to suppress it.

Iris laughed and agreed while vigorously nodding her head, "She is!"

"Iris!" Lily exclaimed and nearly jumped from her spot to attack her sister for speaking badly of her friend.

The older twin leaned away from her annoyed sister as Lily tried to hit her. "Ah, ow! Lily, stop!" Her whining didn't get her anywhere with her twin who just continued to hit her sister for talking bad about Samantha.

"Alright, alright," Wendy got over her small laughing fit before making sure to place herself between the twins to get them to stop fighting(even though it was just Lily attacking Iris). "Calm down you two, no fighting in my room!"

Lily finally let up on her smacks before huffing slightly. Though there was a small amused smile on her lips, which showed how she found this kind of funny as well. "Fine, let's talk about something else," She smirked, "I want to hear about Sirius, Iris."

Iris raised an eyebrow, "and I want to hear about you and James, but I don't think you want to talk about that, hm?"

"Oh, you--" Lily almost had half the mind to start hitting Iris again, though she couldn't really do that with Wendy now sitting in the middle of them like a wall to separate them. She kept trying to insinuate that Lily and James would become a couple, which would never happen! Everyone knew that James was in love with her, but Lily would never be in love with him! That's an absurd notion!

"No, I want to hear about it too!" Marlene piped up in her seat.

Ida rapidly nodded her head as well, "Me too!" Besides her, Matilda also nodded her head in agreement.

So now, everyone was interested in hearing about Iris and Sirius's relationship. Well, anyone would want to hear about what a relationship between two of the biggest flirts and troublemakers at Hogwarts is like. What kind of trouble did these two get up to together? Only Merlin would know just what kind of troublesome relationship that those two have.

Iris hummed in contemplation for a moment, "well, there's not that much to say-”

“Not that much? Please!” Marlene exclaimed, “the two of you must cause far too much trouble for your own goods!”

Iris tilted her head as she thought that over, “I guess you're right.” The girls all laughed together at her words, “Honestly, it isn’t all that much different from any other relationship, I’d say. We pull a few pranks together, maybe a few on each other, but other than that everything is… nice.”

“Aw, look at her,” Wendy cooed, “she’s blushing.”

It was true, Iris’s cheeks had slowly become a pleasant shade of red as she thought about her and Sirius’s relationship. She didn't exactly know the idea of a relationship, yet it was still foreign for her to actually be in one herself. Contrary to popular belief, Iris has never been in a proper relationship. She’s only really been on one other date back in France, and it wasn’t that good, to be perfectly honest. So yes, she was going to be quite flustered while talking about her boyfriend, it was only natural.

“Have you been on many dates?” Ida asked as she leaned in as far as she could to catch a look at her close friend. It was just as a surprise to her and Matilda to see Iris flustered like this, it’s a rare sight. They definitely didn’t want to miss seeing that.

Iris shrugged her shoulders while trying to calm down her flaming cheeks, “a few, we mainly just go to Diagon Alley or something.”

Matilda tilted her head “You still have fun, right?”

“Oh, yea, yea, course we do!” Iris happily exclaimed, she then spun to her sister, while leaning over Wendy. Her eyes sparkled mischievously, "Now, I wanna hear about you and James!"

Lily then grew to be as red as her hair, if it was in anger or embarrassment that was unknown, "What!?" How had this turned to her?! She isn’t even in a relationship, so she would much rather focus on her sister who actually has a boyfriend.

Marlene perked up as well, “Ah, yes. The age old dilemma. The love between Lily Evans and James Potter.”

“There is no love between-” Lily’s shout was cut off by her sister.

“Denial isn’t just a river in Africa.”

Lily stared at her with her expression twitching in annoyance. Wendy then also joined in, “Why can’t you admit that you may fancy the bloke?”

The younger redhead was basically a tomato at this point, “B-because I don’t!”

“Ah, ah, ah,” Iris tutted while poking her sister’s cheek, “is that a little bit of pink on your face there, sister dearest.”

Lily harshly pushed Iris’s hand away and looked about ready to pounce on her, “Oh, you little-”

“No fighting!” Wendy pushed herself between the two once again. Merlin, these two really never calm down, do they?

Off to the side, watching as Wendy tried to keep the twins from each other while Marlene laughed at them, the blonde half-veela turned to her girlfriend, “Imagine Lily with that Potter boy, they would look kind of cute together, no?”

“I suppose so,” Matilda grunted with a shrug of her shoulders.

Marlene leaned over towards her friend with a teasing smile, “I think you just don’t want to admit that you’ve finally fallen for him.”

Lily shook her head vigorously, “No, no. James Potter is one of the most insufferable boys that I have had the unfortunate pleasure of meeting!”

All of the girls shared a knowing glance with each other. Her denial was just proving them right a bit more, at least to them. They then all collectively spoke, “You fancy him.”

“What!?” Lily bristled, “But I- I don’t fancy James, I would never… I-”

“It would be kind of understandable if she doesn’t even realize that she fancies him.” Iris commented offhandedly, “Ever since we were little she never knew that Oscar fancies her, even now.”

Lily’s eyes grew wide at that piece of news, “Oscar?”

Iris turned to her sister with a nod of her head, “Yeah, he’s been in love with you since we were about eight.” She then placed her hand on her chin in thought, “Not only that, but Sev’s had a thing for you since we first met him.”

Lily’s eyes were wide, obviously this was a new revelation to her. “R-really?”

“You go, Lily!” Iris laughed wholeheartedly, either disregarding or not seeing the crisis she has now brought upon her sister. “Looks like I’m not the only one who steals the hearts of many men!”

“All right, all right,” Wendy said as she stifled her own giggles at the sight of her friend’s speechless expression, “let’s leave Lily to have her own existential crisis, let’s move on, shall we?”

“You know, I’ve been wondering,” Ida pursed her lips, “did something happen while at Hogwarts?”

The British girls all shared a look with each other, already knowing what they may be referring to. Though it was kind of surprising that Ida or Matilda had been able to pick up on anything. Iris swallowed thickly but smiled, as if confused, “What do you mean?”

“To you.” Ida clarified which caused Iris to flinch ever so slightly, “I’m not sure, but it just seems like you are… different. Not just that you are in a relationship now, but something else.”

Of course, neither Matilda or Ida knew about what had happened. Since she had gotten home, Iris hadn’t mentioned what had happened to her to really any one. At home, the only one who really knew what had happened is Lily. It’s not like she could talk to other people about it because one; she barely has any other friends in their village and two; they’re all muggles. Should she have told her parents? Maybe, but she didn’t feel like having them fuss over her about it. She knew that they would want to go after Regulus and Lucius for what had happened. However, they were just mere muggles, they couldn’t do anything against the likes of the Black and Malfoy families. The privilege and wealth that they had would easily squash any attempt that the Evans may make to get justice for Iris. All she wanted, was for this to go away, to forget about it. Was that healthy? Who knows, but for her right now, she just wanted to move on.

Iris glanced away from them while chewing on her bottom lip, “Ah, well, I suppose something happened.”

Matilda eyed her friend closely as her frow seemed to deepen, “I don’t think it was anything good...”

“It… wasn’t,” Iris swallowed.

So, Iris started to tell her french friends about what had happened during her first school year at Hogwarts. She did her best to explain what had been done to her. At times, there were a few parts where she either didn’t remember or couldn’t really get through it. Obviously, while Iris tried to put up a tough and confident persona, she was just as affected by this as people would suspect her to be. It seemed like she was just trying to hide what mental trauma she had gone through. She needed someone to talk to about this in depth, about her feelings and what was done to her by those horrendous boys.

When her mask of bravery started to falter, one of the other british girls would step in for a moment. Even then, it seemed to be kind of hard for all of them to have to talk about it. While they weren’t the one who was taken advantage of like Iris, they still felt guilty. Iris is their friend, one of their best friends, and she had gone through such a horrible thing and they could barely do anything to help her. While they did what they could in the end and helped to get her back to normal, they still had to sit on the side lines and watch those two snakes parade her around like a puppet.

By the end of their explanation, both Matilda and Ida were seething. Matilda was beyond angry, though it was a scary-kind of angry. She was the silent-type, if that wasn’t obvious, and an angry Matilda was by no means a good thing. Ida was far more outwardly emotional about what she had heard. She was definitely crying after hearing what had been done to her friend. Though she was just as angry about it just like Matilda.

“How?” Ida cried, “How could something like that happen!?”

Matilda grunted with clenched fists, “Je vais tuer ces garçons!”

Iris jumped up to embrace her two french friends in a tight hug. She was actually kind of happy to know that they were just as upset by this as the others were. It also felt like she had let a heavy weight off of her chest, to actually tell someone else, who wasn’t involved in what happened. “It’s alright now,” She hugged Matilda and Ida tight, who returned the hug just as fiercely, “as much as I enjoy the murderous threats against them, it’s over now. I’d… rather just forget that it happened, alright? Can we uh… move on?”

It was silent for a long while. Really the only sound that was really heard was Ida’s sniffling into Iris’s shoulder. Even the other girls had grown to be misty eyed at the reminder of what those snakes did. Though they slowly started to calm themselves down enough. Ida slowly stopped crying and Matilda had been convinced not to go out murdering any Slytherins just yet. So now, after wiping their eyes, they grew quiet.

Lily then spoke up, “You know, I’ve always wondered if Wendy was interested in anyone.”

“Yeah!” Iris joined in, glad that someone had finally brought up a good distraction. She leaned over towards Wendy who looked as though she didn’t want the attention drawing to her now. Iris smirked, “So? Come on Wendy, there must be someone you’ve fancied at school.”

The black-haired girl shook her head slightly, “Oh, no. No, no. I’ve never really… fancied anyone that much.”

There was now way that that was true! Marlene shook her head, “That’s a lie. There must have been someone who caught your eye.”

“Well, I’m afraid I’m not like you Marlene,” Wendy rolled her eyes playfully, “You fall for just about every pretty boy at Hogwarts.”

Marlene gasped in offense, “Not true, I would never fancy a Slytherin!” Though everyone else was fair game, to her. Honestly, one week she’s fancying a Gryffindor boy in their year, the next week, it's a Hufflepuff in the year above, then a boy from Ravenclaw. Marlene could never just pick one boy. Not only that, but she never actually tried to talk to them beyond a simple greeting.

“Who was she gushing about the other day?” Lily tapped her chin, “That Hufflepuff, uh, Eddie?”

Wendy perked up, “Eddie Caldwell!”

“Ah, yes, her precious Eddie,” Iris then cleared her throat and tried to imitate Marlene’s voice. “Oh, Eddie looks so handsome today!” The girls all started to laugh at Iris’s impersonation, that was surprisingly accurate.

“Eddie is so good at charms!” Lily joined in on the teasing.

Marlene huffed, “So? I like to talk about boys I fancy, what’s wrong with that?”

Wendy rolled her eyes, “It can be a bit annoying when you try to talk about them every moment of everyday.” It could get annoying when she did try to bring up whatever pretty boy she was obsessed with at the time into nearly every conversation. It was a godsend that she already hadn’t started talking about Eddie already.

Lily agreed, “Not only that but you always drag us somewhere to just see a boy.”

“All you have to do is talk to them and yet you never do!” Iris exclaimed.

“Merlin, who do you think I am!” Marlene shouted at the absurd idea, “I could never just… talk to Eddie!”

Iris stared at her for a long minute before sighing loudly, “You’re hopeless. At least Wendy isn’t as hopeless.”

“What?” Wendy asked in surprise.

Iris turned to her with a raised eyebrow, “Well, obviously, you and Remus have a thing, yes?”

“Remus?” Wendy gasped at that, “No!” Who would think that she and Remus would ever have a thing? What would give them the idea of that?

Marlene hummed in thought, “Hm, I can see it. You’re both extremely smart and like the mothers of our friend group, so it makes sense.”

Just about everyone else agreed, including Ida and Matilda even agreed(even though they didn’t necessarily know everything). Wendy shook her head, “Whatever you guys say.”

There was no way that she would argue with them over this. If she tried, they may just end up taking it as an admission of her feelings for Remus. Which she doesn’t have, just like how Remus doesn’t have any for her. She really couldn’t do or say anything to change their minds, no matter what sort of evidence she showed them that showed she didn’t have interest in Remus.

“Ah, but imagine it!” Iris then gushed, “Wendy and Remus would be so cute together, right?!” In turn, everyone else then cooed at the idea as well. Yeah, it didn’t seem like they were going to let go of this idea for a while.

So for the rest of the day at Wendy’s, the girls all tried to keep the atmosphere light and happy. After having retold what their previous year at Hogwarts entailed, they needed some really good distractions. So they gossiped some more, until they could barely talk, before heading down to get some food. Wendy’s father, Edward, was more than happy to get them whatever they needed. Overall, their day was pretty good, except for the small damper in the middle of the day. Still, they made up for it with some more fun things, which was basically just Iris running about pulling a few small pranks here and there on her friends while they all shared a laugh. It was good. They were all glad to have friends like each other to help each other out when they need to lift their moods.

---

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galahgrannies · 2 years

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Day 13: Now let me think …. what have we done today and where ARE we?!! That’s it! We’re now at Wave Rock, it is 5.37pm and having beaten the kids to the showers (school holidays has brought out families!) we are now in our pj’s about to enjoy a glass of wine!!! Dinner comes next! Tonight on the menu we share a microwave pulled pork, a microwave brown rice and some spinach leaves thrown into the pork as it heats up!! But I have to tell you about dinner last night. In 2004 when Hugh and visited Rich in the Pilbara (and then Ang in the Kimberly) we drove right up the West Coast of the Pilbara and we gorged on fish and chips. But such FRESH fish - and it felt like the fish had been swung straight out of the ocean on to our plates. And the fish was Red Emperor and it is delicious. And I have boringly been boringly rambling on about how delicious the WA Red Emperor was. And last night, we had been advised about a good take away fish shop and lo and behold! …… when we went in, up on the board was RED EMPEROR! So we ordered 2 pieces (they were a perfect small size) and we had them with some steamed sweet potato and spinach leaves, accompanied by a glass of fresh white wine. It was not only healthy, but the fish did not disappoint.

Anyway on to today. We left Esperance in really good time and the first thing we noticed was we were in farming country. It was more familiar … homesteads and shearing sheds, cattle and sheep and even some goats, as well as and different varieties of Canola as far as the eye could see. The monoculture bothered us a bit though, but the never ending spectacle from the van was beautiful. The properties here must be huge. Every town has ENORMOUS AND NUMEROUS silos, such as we have never seen anywhere else in our lives. Not even in the major wheat growing areas of NSW or QLD. In Varley, the stretch of various shapes and sizes of silos were too long to fit in the camera screen and needed a video to capture the size. But by the time I realised that, we had driven past and we didn’t feel like turning around. After a while on these trips, one gets photo weary (and the necessity to just keep going). And the same applied to nearly every town we went through, big and little. This is indeed one of the WA grain belts. For example, the girl who owns the smart dress shop in Esperance comes from Codingup (where we visited the day before yesterday), is looking for someone to house sit from September until harvest and then to cook for about 20 people for at least 12 weeks of harvest!!! That gives an idea of the scale of things around this area.

Anyway, back on the road… our first stop at a tiny little town called Munglinup - population 130 - for our requisite cappuccino. It was a roadhouse and they made great coffee. But small as it is, Munglinup appears to serve not only the local agricultural area but also the passing traffic, as it is a fair distance either way to a larger Centre. It is a busy little Centre. As we were driving between Esperance and Munglinup, we wondered where the kids would go to school because it is such a long way. At the roadhouse, they said the kids come to school in Munglinup or have to go to Esperance. We felt maybe a lot of them are home schooled or do correspondence.

We arrived at the Wave Rock Caravan Park and immediately explored the rock. Wave Rock is a giant inselberg. We learned about inselbergs at Murphy’s Haystacks at Streaky Bay and well worth a visit. We climbed up bravely and wandered all over the top, looking at the view and being intrigued with the droseras (tiny little prehistoric plants that look like starfish) that were with other tiny plants in rock pools, the 360 degree views, the channels in the rock, made by water and the fact that it’s all millions of years in the making.

The best bit was Wendy’s solo adventure at the end of the day, to see “the Hippo’s Yawn” and, as only she can do, found herself happily at the top of something, with no hippo’s yawn in site and wondering how in the hell she could get down again. BUT!! A lovely young man (Socorro) with a black, curly man bun and three children (who he was looking after), helped her descend and, according to Wendy, it was some descent!! At one point, the 8:year old Una, said to Socorro, “Socorro, would you please wait for Wendy.” How beautiful is that. Socorro was so respectful and helpful in getting Wendy down again, downward descents not being her forte. I had had enough of walking and headed “home” via another walking trail which gave lots of information about indigenous plants for all manner of health needs.

Wendy feels that Socorro and those kids are one of the highlight of her whole trip. They were so loving and caring, without being at all patronising.

A little addition to our dinner: We were so looking forward to our pulled pork gourmet meal but when we read the ‘microwave’ instructions, we discovered that it said “Ready to HEAT” not “Ready to EAT” and needed to be heated in a pre-heated oven, not a microwave at all. So, getting over our disappointment and ever the inventive girls we are, we ended up having a really delicious meal of brown rice, lemon and cracked pepper salmon, fresh corn, spinach leaves and a dab of a very smart Korean mayo we have been using (can’t remember it’s name). We think we’ll go out to dinner in York tomorrow night!!!🤣🤣. Or lunch…..

Internet is very sketchy here so there are very few photos - none of the rock at this stage.

Ready for bed ….

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sirthisisa-wendys · 3 years

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Kawata twins!

Hey Wendy, this is the Kawata twins scenario that you said that I should reask. This popped up in my head after I have realized that you have absolutely no Kawata twin fics or maybe I'm not looking deep enough. So to change that, here's a suggestion. So you have known both Brothers for some time and they both confess to you at the same time or both Brothers like you but the brother don't know that they like the same girl, they confess and it comes as a surprise to both of them, it could either be fluff or nsfw, whatever feels right to you. I headcannon Smiley as being very mean and teasing partner (not in a degrading way but like a brat tamer) and Angry as a soft and gentle partner. Have fun with this!

There aren't any, but this will be the first!

I'm not really sure about Smiley and Angry (neither were really my type and I can't get a read on them at all) but I'm going to try my best with them.

Competition: Nahoya Kawata & Souya Kawata x Fem!Reader

wc: 511

tw: fluff

masterlist

song recommendation:

Two pairs of eyes peer at you as you approach the counter, hips swaying underneath your apron.

Angry's mouth dries up, just as his brother's lips part.

"Holy shit."

The restaurant is wildly understaffed and overcrowded, but the two brothers would be able to spot you anywhere in the crowd, your smiling face and pleasant voice like music to their ears.

"Nahoya," Souya breathes. "I think that's the one I want."

"Who?" Nahoya wonders, frowning. "Y/n?"

"Yeah."

"That's too bad; I liked her first." The older twin chuckles under his breath, but Angry quirks his lips, turning to his brother slowly.

"But I said I liked her first."

"But I said that she's hot when we hired her."

"But I got her in the door."

The bickering between the two boys continues on, which goes unnoticed by everyone around them (they bicker quite a lot), until finally, Smiley takes off his jacket and huffs.

"I say the first one to get her number wins."

"But she already gave us her number when she applied for the job." Souya is right, Nahoya thinks. But there has to be some way they can determine who is the best out of the two of them.

"First one to make her laugh."

"You're on."

And so the competition begins. Both brothers try their best to make you crack anything more than a smile.

Angry tries his best impression of a New Yorker as he passes you the food through the window, and Smiley tells you a really bad dad joke he learned from Hakkai.

Neither of them gets you to laugh, but you do crack a small smile at both of them, playfully smacking Angry's arm and shaking your head at Smiley.

So they ramp it up.

Eventually, they're balancing plates on their head, making silly faces, and actually performing stunts that might harm themselves or others, which makes you frown at both of them.

"What's gotten into you guys?" you snap, hands on your hips. "You've been acting weird all night and--"

"We're sorry," Angry mumbles, ramen spilled all over his clothes. "We just..."

"We're having a competition to see who could get you to laugh first," Smiley finishes.

"And why in the world would you want to do that?"

"Because we like you." The twins sigh at the same time, deflated.

"Like really like you," Smiley adds.

And that's when it happens. Your mouth opens and a hearty chuckle builds in the back of your throat, bubbling up and erupting in a fit of riotous laughter as if someone had told you an extremely funny joke.

"You're both insane," you finally manage to say. "Why didn't you just say that?"

"It was a competition," Angry re-explains as you wipe tears from your eyes. "Though I wouldn't mind sharing."

"Me neither," Smiley shrugs. "If you'd want to go out with us, I mean."

"Sure," you exhale, shaking your head in disbelief. "I'll go out with you both if you'll stop the madness."

"Done," they both chime, perking up significantly and getting back to work.

#souya kawata #nahoya kawata #souya kawata x reader #nahoya kawata x reader #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers

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gobblewanker · 2 years

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The Mystery and The Isosceles

Ch 6: Aboard the Isosceles

Also on AO3

Mabel and Dipper sat in the small room aboard the Mystery that they'd been given as their own. Dipper was pretty sure only officers were supposed to get their own, but Stan hadn't cared. There were four small cabins other than the captain's, two of each side of a small dining room. One was Soos' and one Wendy's, and now, the third was Mabel and Dipper's. It was much nicer than anywhere they'd stayed since grandpa died, the small space fitting a bunk bed on one end and a shelf and chest on the other. A small blue-tinged window showed the sea through it's lattice, and swafts of fabric hung from the ceiling.

It was nice, but Dipper was still not sure it was right to stay. Great uncle Stan—or grunkle as Mabel had taken to calling him—had told them he'd take care of them for as long as they needed it. They were all that was left of their family. They needed to stick together.

But they were still pirates.

"Yeah, well maybe a pirate's life is for me!" Mabel said, kicking him lightly from where she laid on her back beside him in the lower bunk. A proper mattress definitely beat the hammock.

Dipper sighed, flipping through the journal.

"I wish grandpa had had time to teach me more latin." He changed the subject. "I'm dying to know what this says beyond the bits here and there I understand."

"Maybe Stan speaks it?" Mabel suggested. "Wasn't great grandpa a merchant? If he could afford to have someone teach one of his kids maybe he did it for all of them."

Well, speak of the devil.

Stan showed up in the doorway, looking the room over before leaning against the opening.

"So. You kids settling in okay?"

Mabel looked pointedly at Dipper. He hesitated, before nodding.

"Alright. Well, hey grunkle Stan? Me and Mabel were talking and…" He closed the book and held it up for the old man to see the golden yellow six-fingered hand on the cover. "Well, do you know latin?"

Stan froze in the doorway, his eyes wide and his mouth falling open the slightest bit, as if he'd been punched out of nowhere. On unsteady legs he walked into the room and collapsed sitting onto the mattress beside them.

"Where did you get this?" He asked dimly.

"I found it on that island they left me on, it was buried on the beach."

Stan opened the book gingerly, looking through the first few pages of neat sketches and text until he reached the part where the text became sloppy and scribbled. His hand shook on the pages.

"I think it's research notes. Can you read it?"

"Kid…" Stan breathed. "This was Ford's."

"What?"

Stan took a deep breath to steel himself, as he looked at the first truly sloppily written page—so different from Ford's usually meticulous work—and began translating for his eager audience.

A part of him was overjoyed to have another remnant of his brother. Another part dreaded what he would read.

Ford stared at the man in yellow and felt the air catch in his throat.

"We're researchers for God's sake, not merchants!" The captain of his own ship pleaded emphatically. "We don't have money, we have- we have books, and paper! You can take it if you want but that's all we have!"

Mismatched gold and blue eyes surveyed the frightened faces on deck with marked disinterest. Behind their captain—Bill Cipher, Ford had heard someone call him—his crew waited hungrily for him to make a call. They reminded Ford of a pack of wolves, pacing impatiently.

"Tie them to the mast and burn the ship."

Bill laid down their death sentence with all the emotion of someone deciding what to have for lunch. He turned, waved them off, and began to walk back towards his own ship. Clearly finding no desire to stick around.

"Wait!" The words were out of Ford's mouth before he could stop them. Before he could even think them through.

Bill paused, turning on a heel to see who'd spoken. He landed on Ford, regarding him like he was something caught under the sole of his shoe; insignificant and distasteful, but just the slightest bit curious. Then, it was as if the skies themselves darkened behind him. Bill's golden false eye seemed to flicker alive with a yellow glow. He grinned broadly, displaying wide rows of sharpened metal teeth to match the eye prothesis.

"What?" He asked. In two long strides, he was in front of Ford taking the young researcher's chin in his hand with mock gentleness. "You want to beg?"

Ford flinched, but made himself stand his ground. Like Pa had drilled into him as a child facing bullies, he made a show of squaring his shoulders and blustering. He grabbed Bill's wrist forcefully and pried the hand away from his face.

He bristled outwardly, if only to disguise the tremor that went through him. When his show of defiance didn't get him shot dead on the spot, he pressed on.

"Bargain."

"Interesting!" Bill's voice lilted with impish delight. "And what do you think you have that I'd be interested in bargaining for?"

Shit, he hadn't thought that far. What did he have that he could possibly hold over the head of a ruthless pirate? Everything he had brought with him was already theirs for the picking, not that they'd shown much interest in the cargo the second they learnt none of it was shiny.

Shiny.

The large ship was covered in gold, the captain's garishly yellow coat was lined with gold thread, Ford's eyes kept being drawn to the artificial gold details on his face. The sheer degree of flaunting was staggering.

"There's… There's an island." Ford began hesitatingly.

All his life, he'd been surrounded by scammers. Stanley and Ma and Pa all knew how to spin a convincing lie. He was half convinced any one of them would be able to sweet talk the devil himself into selling them his soul. But Ford didn't have the savvy. He couldn't make something up on the spot, not with everyone's eyes on him and everything at stake.

So, he drew on the first thing that came to mind which happened to be the children's stories his Ma had told him and his twin when they were little.

It was all he had to barter with: His own life, and a fairytale.

"Far from here, tucked away on the open ocean, there's a place teeming with treasure and magic." Ford regurgitated the opening to the bedtime stories practically word for word as he remembered Ma's comforting voice telling them. He tried to imagine she was there, reading them to him. Tried to let that thought block out the fear. "An island, called Port Cascada."

The second Ford said the name, Bill's face shifted from grinning lazily to suddenly alertness.

"The zoological research is a facade. What we're really looking for is that island." Ford lied. He risked a glance at the rest of the crew on his ship, but none of them challenged him.

Fiddleford stared at him with wordless terror. He was silent and still, but the thin man shook through his entire body. He had a wife and child who needed him to return home safely. Ford didn't have anyone waiting for him. Not since Stan-

"If I come with you, guide you to it-" Ford turned back to face the pirates. His voice trembled as he did so. "-you let the rest of the crew leave unharmed."

Silence fell. Even the rushing waves and creaking ship all seemed muted. The members of Bill's crew who'd already begun their approach at his earlier command had paused again, waiting breathlessly as he closed his eyes and thought. Bill drew a deep breath, he'd had no emotion in the earlier decision, but this time Ford swore he could see him actively fighting to compose himself and tap something back down. He succeeded, and when his eyes opened again they were cold and calculating. He scrutinized every part of Ford's face, before nodding once.

"Deal." He extended an open hand towards Ford.

Everything was spinning wildly around Ford's head. He felt ill, like he was about to heave over the side of the ship. His heart was drumming painfully against his ribcage like it was trying to break out, and his skin crawled along his arms. Desperately, he wanted some way out. He wanted to wake up from the nightmare, go back to earlier that very morning when everything had been perfect and the wide open sea had been exhilarating rather than terrifying. He didn't want to shake Bill's hand. Every fibre of his being screamed for him not to.

But if he didn't take the deal, they'd all die. If he did take the deal, only he would die. The answer was obvious, the dilemma trivial. It was one life against fifty.

Ford swallowed hard, and took the outstretched hand. It didn't feel real.

Bill tugged hard, and suddenly Ford's jaw hit the deck. Reality came back to him very abruptly with the pain shooting through him, and he scrambled to turn. There was the taste of metal in his mouth, and one of his teeth felt loose. Ford breathed heavily, his vision swimming behind cracked glasses.

Bill towered over him. Behind him were a sea of shoes and legs. The fact dawned on him that he was trapped with his back up against Bill's men.

"Bind him." Bill ordered firmly. Someone grabbed Ford's arms and pulled him back into a standing position. He wanted to fight, protest the manhandling, but instead he rooted his feet to the floor as best he could and made himself stand still. While someone unseen held firm around his shoulders, a tall broad man circled around to his front and roughly pulled his hands together. The efficiency with which Ford's hands were tied together with coarse rope suggested it wasn't the first time the man did it. The fibers dug into his wrists, scraping and burning against the skin. He breathed shakily through his nose, very pointedly looking at neither man. Despite the instinctive desire to make himself small, he kept his head high. Dignified. Like they were tying the rope around his neck at the gallows. After all, they practically were.

Bill growled and barked orders in the background. It was white noise. Barely even audible through the frantic screaming bouncing off the walls inside Ford's skull.

He searched through the chaos, finding Fiddleford's face again. The man wavered on his feet, like he wanted to do something but had no idea what. There wasn't anything he could do, Ford had chosen his own fate.

He forced the corners of his mouth to quirk upwards. It was a poor imitation of a smile, he was sure. But it was all he could do. He didn't want his friend's last memory of him to be a sheet-pale coward about to fall apart. He smiled, like it wasn't goodbye. He smiled, like a quiet assurance that it was alright.

He'd never see his ship again. Never see his home again. Never see his brother again.

It wasn't alright.

His eyes stung.

At the prompt of a call he couldn't discern, the crowd of pirates began moving back in the direction of their ship. They grumbled amongst themselves with frustration and dissatisfaction, but nobody dared to make their protests loud enough for their captain to hear. He was pushed sharply, the only indication that this was when his feet were supposed to start working again. Ford shuffled along with the crowd.

None of them acknowledged him. The owner of the painfully tight hand at his shoulder never addressed him. They acted like he was nothing more than cargo.

The last glimpse of friendly faces he got before he was forced into the belly of the ship was the vacant expression that decorated Fiddleford's wet face.

Then, the journal Ford had absentmindedly left in his coat pocket was all he had left of normalcy.

Nearly a week passed with Ford keeping up the pretense. He wasn't sure how long he could keep stalling, telling Bill he was calculating coordinates and charting a course would only hold for so long. Though in reality, he wasn't sure why he bothered. In the end, it'd be the same anyways. Bill would find out, and when he did, Ford would die. What was he holding out for? Rescue? Not likely. He might as well just forgo the anxious wait and cut right to it.

But survival was a stubborn thing, and it kept him making excuses and dodging questions. But it wasn't sustainable. Bill would find out. And eventually, he did.

Bill screeched and swore and threw things at the walls. Ford stood in front of him, face down and refusing to speak. The enraged man paced aimlessly, ranting in a voice that barely sounded human. His face, usually stained yellow with icterus, was instead flushed with blood.

The bars of his cell in the brig kept the two men separated, and Ford was acutely aware that was probably the only reason he'd not been physically assaulted yet. Of course, Bill could always just go retrieve the key. It was his ship. But he seemed so incoherent with rage the thought didn't strike him. Instead he just paced near the bars like an agitated animal at a menagerie.

Bill slammed his fist against the door hard enough to make the entire thing rattle and Ford nearly jumped out of his skin at the jarring noise. Bill pressed his face between the metal and snarled.

"What were you thinking?"

Ford clenched his fists at his sides and met the man's eyes. His pipil was tiny and his nostrils flared as he breathed erratically. The clothes he wore were still the same expensive, flashy yellow coat and black vest, but they were rumpled. The light brown hair on his head was sticking out every which way from him running his hands through it, and his gold teeth were grinding against each other. A deep scar across his throat commanded Ford's attention, like someone had tried and failed to slit it. All of him looked unhinged.

"What did you expect was going to happen to you when you pulled that stunt? Did you really think I wouldn't catch on?"

Ford remained rebelliously silent, only infuriating Bill further. He wavered for a moment, stewing in anger, before his hand frantically began searching through his coat. From within the folds of thick expensive fabric, he procured a pistol. Stepping back, he trained the barrel on Ford.

"Alright." Bill said somewhat frantically. "Alright! Fine! So you're useless then! Give me one good reason I shouldn't paint the wall with that useless brain of yours!"

He'd known rescue wasn't coming. He'd known this would be the end result. But Ford trembled anyway and his breathing grew dangerously shallow.

Still. Being shot in the head was a far quicker end than he could have hoped for.

"Go ahead." Ford choked out, hoping his voice came out with the dignified defiance he'd intended, rather than the genuine terror he felt. He stared down the opening of the pistol, expecting a loud bang any second. The same survival instinct that had made him keep up the facade for so long begged him to move; to protect his vitals and take cover behind the scarce furnishings. But he refused. He wouldn't cower. Wouldn't give Bill the satisfaction.

"At this point, my death gains you nothing. My friends are alive—that was all I was after." Ford continued with as much composure as he could manage. "So, do it. I won anyway."

Bill's finger trembled at the trigger. Then, he made another intelligible angry noise and stormed off, leaving Ford alone and—miraculously—unharmed.

Ford had known that wouldn't be the end of it. But another full week passed without a word from Bill. Ford never once saw him again in that time. Other crew members would silently show up to toss him a loaf of bread and something to drink, so apparently Bill still intended to keep him alive. But to what end, he hadn't the faintest idea. The tense unknowingness ate him alive.

Then, at the end of a week and a half, something finally happened.

Ford scrambled to shut the journal he'd been scribbling in and hide it under the plain wooden bench as two men entered the brig. It didn't seem like anyone had caught on that he had the book. If they had, Bill would have almost certainly torn the pages out and burned them in front of him just out of spite. But they hadn't. So as it stood, the journal was his only friend and confidant. Writing about his ordeal at least gave him some empty feeling of control over it. He still missed the comforting weight of the first two, though.

"Get up."

Ford stood without a fight. The cell was unlocked, and both men entered. They looked at him like they were expecting to be met with opposition, but what would be the point in that? Even if he could somehow overpower them both—which, considering his track record when facing bullies, seemed vanishingly unlikely—he had nowhere to go. There was nothing around for miles except the unforgiving ocean.

Heavy iron manacles were clasped around his wrists behind his back as he stood unmoved. Thick fabric was tied over his eyes. One of the men pushed him hard, and with a yelp he stumbled over the threshold. They grabbed one arm each and dragged him. At that, Ford resisted.

"I can walk." He hissed, writhing until they dropped him hard.

"Then walk."

Ford struggled to get back on his feet without the use of his arms, but he'd be damned if he let them drag him like something subhuman. He assumed the reason for the restraints and the blindfold was that they were going to finally execute him, and if that was the case, at least he wanted to face it with dignity.

He was marched out of the brig and through the ship. He heard people standing about, whispering to each other and buzzing with excitement. He tripped and nearly fell at the staircase.

It was night and still dark up on deck, he couldn't even see shadows through the fabric. But the sudden fresh air that hit his face was welcome. He wasn't sure he'd ever feel wind on his skin again. At least he got it one last time.

The men leading him stopped, and he heard knocking and a door creaking open before being made to go blindly inside.

"Ah, would you look at that! The man of the hour!" Bill's grating voice assaulted his ears and made him flinch. He heard footsteps on planks approaching. "Thanks guys."

At that, the hand on his back left and a new one grabbed his upper arm and pulled him close. Before he could even think about resisting, Ford was spun around and slammed hard against the wall by deceptively slight hands.

Ford's face was forced up against cold glass by rough fingers caught in his flyaway curls. The other hand had a firm hold on his cuffed wrists behind his back, keeping him uncomfortably pressed against the hard surface. A door slammed shut somewhere, blocking out the smell of torches and salt, and he was left alone with the captain.

"I figured you might be feeling a little homesick. So I've got a treat for you." Bill cooed into his ear, before the blindfold was torn from his eyes and Ford was finally privy to the view outside the window his cheek was pressed against.

He recognized the port, of course he did. How could he not? It was his home. Tinged by pinkish glass, Gravity Falls slept quietly outside the window.

The first cannonball that ripped through the still night air felt as if it blew a hole through his heart.

Ford screamed.

It was an ugly, guttural, wordless noise of anguish that left him almost against his will.

Bill grinned like a madman, Ford could make out the reflection in the window. His own face stared back in horror, overlaid with the blood red glow of his burning port. The fire danced in Bill's eye, frenzied and hungry. It was difficult to hear anything from outside through the thick wooden walls and the glass, but muffled wailing and howling reached his ears.

The hands on his back and in his hair held him firmly in place even as he thrashed and kicked and tried to break loose. Bill just kept grinning, slamming Ford's face back against the glass every time he managed to squirm loose even an inch.

After that, everything sort of got fuzzy.

What Ford did know was that Bill hadn't killed him, because when he came to the next morning back down in the brig he was bruised and bedraggled but still alive. But that was about the extent of what he could say for sure. He didn't know what had happened, all he knew was that he was still alive and-

And so many people he'd known weren't. Gravity Falls was gone.

"You killed them." He hissed at Bill, stating the obvious.

"We did." Bill insisted. "If it wasn't for you, I would have been perfectly content with only one ship. You did this. You brought the devil to their doorstep."

Ford wished it wasn't true.

But Bill wasn't done—wasn't satisfied.

Ford had mostly been left alone his first two weeks onboard, but now Bill appeared almost daily. Always with some new torture. He'd made it explicitly clear that he still meant to kill Ford, but not until he was bored of him. He'd cheated Bill out of a deal, but he wouldn't walk away empty handed. Even if all he could get was sadistic entertainment. Gradually, the threat of Bill killing him started to feel more like a promise.

Say whatever you would about Bill, but he was creative. More than half of that creativity seemed catered towards causing people pain for his own amusement. In the weeks that came, Ford saw him lash out and attack his own men with reckless abandon for the smallest slights. But a dead crew couldn't work, and so he reined it in. He could see it visibly agonizing him to be forced to use restraint, and so, hurting Ford became the outlet. He was ruthless. If anything, the day he attacked Ford's old ship Bill had been merciful.

Sometimes he heard them attack more people, more places. But at least Bill never again bothered to drag him out of his cell to watch. He hoped that meant none of the casualties were people he knew.

He was so tired of all of it. The scraps of his pride he'd clung onto earlier had been all but beaten out of him. He didn't speak. He barely ate, even when they felt inclined to actually give him food. When they took him from the brig, he let them drag him like a limp corpse.

When he and Stan had been little and running around the harbour, Ford had overheard an old superstition: Seeing an albatross was good luck—seabirds carried the souls of dead sailors back home.

He watched the gulls circling above like vultures waiting for him to die, and wondered if he knew their names.

Sometimes he'd hear gunfire, and a bird would fall to be swallowed up by the sea and the sharks that seemed to always follow the Isosceles. Bill used them as target practice, when the crew protested him taking potshots at them.

"Shooting the bids is bad luck." Ford coughed through a bone dry throat. He looked at the sky, the sun blazing down on him relentlessly. He'd pleaded for water, Bill made him drink seawater.

"What?" Bill asked conversationally. "Would you rather I shoot you?"

"Yes."

Bill grumbled, and called him a downer, before walking off again leaving Ford to bake.

The only break from his monotonous, painful, routine came in the unexpected form of one of said seagulls: A small female, that squeezed its way in through a poorly patched hole in the hull leftover from battle. Admittedly, Ford didn't know much about birds. Yes, he'd been on a zoological research mission, but he'd always hoped to find something yet unknown. Something supernatural. Gulls had been nothing more than loud, mundane, nuisances that woke the crew up early and kept snatching their pencils. But this one was the first non-hostile being Ford had encountered in a month. That alone was enough for him to take a liking to her.

As for how he knew it was a female, on the night he first saw her, she made a nest behind the barrels just outside his cell. Not too long after, that nest housed three eggs. He sketched the bird in his journal, and fed her scraps of his own scarce meals. It didn't matter much if it left him with less. He was all but dead anyways. His beating heart was a formality. Better the one of them with a shot at life get the best possible chance.

Eventually, she even let him touch her, gently running his fingers down her smooth feathers as she sat on her eggs for hours on end. It was a small comfort, but a comfort nonetheless.

But then, the worst happened. Bill saw her.

He shot the bird and stomped on her nest, grinning as Ford begged him not to.

"I thought you'd learn by now. You caring for someone is signing their death warrant."

He laughed, and walked away, and Ford fell to pieces all over again. It was silly. It was irrational. It was just a dumb bird. But it was all he had. He stared emptily at the wet straw and egg yolk that had used to hold the promise of life, feeling tears drip down his cheeks.

Something rolled with the swaying of the ship out from between the barrels. A single egg, having been pushed aside instead of crushed under the boot.

Ford reached between the bars and took it gently, like it was a priceless treasure. It was smaller than the others had been. A single surviving egg out of three. He held it in-between his palms, close to his chest, and cried for it.

He tore pieces from his already ruined clothes and hid it with his journal. The egg grew as the days slogged on through Ford's haze of hurt and loneliness.

When a tiny bird eventually hatched, he childishly named it Stan.

His memories got fuzzy again after that brief window of clarity. Ford had lost count of how long he'd been captive on the ship, but it had to have been months. It was a week before Bill found out he'd lied about that useless fairytale, then one more before Gravity Falls burned. Then everything was a muddle of pain. It had taken the egg a few weeks to hatch, and bird Stan was now old enough to fly. Ford had tried to get him to leave through the same gap his mom had gotten in through once that had happened, but he refused. He stuck by Ford like he was his mother bird. It was all Ford could do to keep him quiet and pray Bill would never find him.

But the gull could fly.

Ford's arms burned. It felt like they'd be pulled their sockets any second and let his mangled body plunge into the stormy sea below. The ship rocked hard every which way with the waves that reached the highest gundeck. Ford hung limp from the golden figurehead at the prow, exposed to the rain and the biting cold.

It had been Bill's idea, as all the worst tortures were.

"I was getting sick of the old figurehead anyway."

Those were his exact words, and without hesitation his crew had complied. Ford had been hoisted over the prow of the ship and tied to the frontward facing mast by coarse ropes around his arms at the elbow where the joint would bend. They'd left him there as the storm rolled in.

The cold winds gnawed on his face like nails being driven into his cheeks. His clothes were soaked and his wet hair dripped into his eyes. Every now and again, a wave would reach high enough to dunk his legs entirely. He was sure it was just a matter of time before something took his feet off when they plunged into the water. Maybe something already had, he couldn't feel them. He couldn't feel his hands either for that matter. What he did feel was the rope digging into his arms as it supported his entire body. Yes, he was underfed and weak, but it was still too much weight. The ropeburns were deep enough to bleed. The only faint warmth he felt was the blood trickling down onto his back. He couldn't turn far enough to see, but he imagined that with a few more hours of this the bone would be exposed.

Something landed on his head, skidding clumsily on the wet hair before finding a grip. Its small claws scraped very lightly against his scalp. Ford mustered enough strength to weakly move his head, trying to shake it off before the bird would start pecking at him.

"'M not dead yet…" He groaned.

A pair of white and black wings unfolded over his head, like a tiny umbrella. The seagull cooed worriedly in a familiarly scratchy voice and raked its beak through his hair comfortingly.

"Stan?"

He heard another soft croak in what he assumed was an affirmative.

Really, the bird shouldn't be out there in a storm. He had barely even lost his baby fluff yet. He should be hiding in his makeshift nest inside the ship, where at the very least it was dry. But he wasn't. He was out there with Ford, trying to make it better. Trying to keep the rain out.

That was such an absurdly Stan-like thing to do.

Ford couldn't quite smile, it hurt too bad to move his face. But he closed his eyes just a bit more at peace.

And then a shot rang out.

"No!"

The bird squawked loudly—crying out in shock and pain—and fell from his head despite desperately flapping his wings as he spiraled downwards into the dark water.

Bill howled with laughter, the noise was high-pitched and deranged. Ford wanted to scream and curse Bill out. But he had no energy to do anything of the sort. All that was left in him was pain and hopelessness. He watched the white speck bobbing up and down on the waves and gradually disappearing out of view. Everything was blurry. Why? He'd managed to keep his glasses on.

He should have known better than to let someone in. He should have known better than to care. Bill was right.

Ford destroyed everything he touched.

He stopped thinking after that. Stopped caring. Ford tried his absolute hardest to just resign himself to what was happening. He thought he'd already accepted his fate, but on some level, he'd naively held onto the idea of getting out alive. Completely alone again, he finally let go.

They'd left him hanging from the prow throughout the night. He was cold, wet, and exhausted when he was finally thrown back onto the thin layer of hay on the hard ground in the brig. Considering all of it, along with the lack of anything even resembling proper food, it was perhaps no big shock that Ford grew ill in the aftermath.

His skin was hot and clammy, breathing hurt as his lungs rattled and protested. Occasionally, he was offered water and food by someone he couldn't quite distinguish through the incoherent fogginess of the fever. It was real food, and real water. But he couldn't eat. His body fought viciously against everything except sleep. His heart beat rapidly, as if he was frightened, but he didn't feel scared. He just felt exhausted. Every now and again, the galloping pulse would flutter and skip a beat. It felt like his heart was contemplating stopping.

He tried to write when he felt conscious enough. But the pages all turned out smudged and illegible. What was legible was nearly all of it a ramble of laughably insignificant childhood memories and fantasies of what could have been. It wasn't useful, but it was a distraction.

Bill's crew had never once objected to the torture. But what they did object to, was keeping a sick man with them. There was murmuring amongst the men. Concerns about disease on board floated around.

In the end, that more than anything was what finally made Bill agree to get rid of him.

Ford was carried up to Bill's cabin, just like he had been the night they'd attacked his port. The captain circled him like a shark, and finally gave an ultimatum to settle the debt.

"How about this: You hang in there for one more night, and as soon as the first rays of sunlight break the horizon, I'll let you go." Bill descended on him, taking his jaw in his hands and whispering. "I'll let you die. But I get to do whatever I want with you for the short remainder of your worthless life."

Ford's head was released and dropped slack back against the floor. A gloved hand was extended in his direction as Ford struggled to comprehend. Sluggishly, he moved a hand out from under him. His entire arm trembled, the rope burns were horrifically infected, and he barely managed to lift the hand the few centimetres off if the floor Bill required. He didn't so much shake Bill's hand as briefly brush it with his limp fingers. But it was enough. It was agreement.

He couldn't quite tell if the feeling that washed over him was relief or dread.

After the fact, Ford would say that he couldn't remember those last few hours. It was partially true, so much of it was just a blur. But even the parts he did remember, he didn't want to think about. Had he been given the option, he would have gladly erased everything about those months on the ship, and slipped away blissfully ignorant.

He remembered pain and fear. And then, he remembered morning light. He remembered the promise of respite it gave him.

Ford was hauled up on deck and thrown off on a beach. Sand clung to his hair and cheek as he lay on the shore unable to even lift his face. Bill threw him a pistol, patronisingly congratulating him for keeping his end of the bargain this time, and left him there.

A part of him was surprised Bill didn't want the pleasure of killing him, but the other knew that making Ford choose between doing it himself or slowly succumbing to exposure would be far more distressing. He watched the ship slowly sail away, leaving him with nowhere to go and no way to escape. The birds that seemed to always flock the masts of the Isosceles stayed with him. Some of them hopped close while others watched from trees and rocks. Even more sailed around and around above. Uncharacteristically, all of them were silent as they watched him. It was probably just the fever speaking, but the birds seemed almost solemn.

It was nice of them, waiting until he actually expired before scavenging the body.

The metal of the gun glinted invitingly with early morning sunshine. Gathering the last of his strength, Ford reached for the handle. He wanted it to end.

From within the folds of the quiet congregation of seabirds, a gratingly shrill and hoarse cry sounded. A blur of white shot forwards, landing gracelessly on the barrel of the pistol and pecking Ford's finger hard enough to make him wince and pull back.

Shrieking angrily as if scolding him and flapping one of its wings furiously was a young gull, and Ford's heart all but stopped right there as he recognised the tuft of feathers on its head and the scratchy screeching.

How was Stan alive?

One of his wings hung uselessly at his side, the fragile bird bone crippled by an ugly bullet hole still stained black from gunpowder. But the wound looked healed as best it could. The wing barely moved with the other, but the fact that he'd somehow survived both the plunge into the water and the injury…

"Stan." Ford choked. "Just… It's okay. You don't need me anymore. You'll be fine."

The bird protested loudly, almost as if he actually understood what Ford was saying. His flipper feet fidgeted agitatedly at the metal under him, trying to kick sand up over it. Ford weakly tried to reach again, but again his fingers were pecked almost hard enough to draw blood. Some of the birds were starting to fly off, scattering in different directions.

The bird didn't need Ford anymore. He was old enough to take care of himself, he clearly had managed after Bill shot him. Even if he needed him, there wasn't much Ford could do anymore. He had only two options available, and those were a slow agonizing death or a quick messy one. But… Looking at the wide eyes of the young bird staring at him pleadingly, he couldn't do that. Couldn't scare him, making him watch him shoot himself. It'd be more merciful on himself, but it would hurt someone else even worse.

"Okay…" Ford breathed, taking his hand back all the way and curling up on his side, trying to make himself as small as possible. There was the shade of the treeline a few meters off, but he didn't think he'd be able to drag himself that far. He closed his eyes tight, and tried to go to sleep. "Okay, I won't."

A small ball of feathers burrowed in-between his arms, pressing up against the crook of his neck. The bird croaked mournfully, brushing the sand from Ford's face with his beak.

Ford didn't expect to ever wake up again. But against all odds, he did. It was all very murky at first. He remembered voices, he remembered being firmly but gently made to drink something warm while barely consciously. He remembered the raw terror as hands touched his wounds and the image of Bill superimposed on the stranger. But the voice was distinctly female, and that was a small comfort. He heard squawking fading in and out.

Through the distortion, he heard reassurance that he would be alright, mumbled chants to some creature whose name he couldn't pronounce, and flashes of comforting memories of a brother he'd not seen in almost ten years.

Eventually, the fog that had rolled in over his mind faded gradually. The image of the real Stanley dissolved, leaving Ford staring at a gull with a broken wing perched on his bedpost.

Jheselbraum had honestly not expected the man to survive past that first morning.

His skin was covered in deep lacerations, some crudely cauterized and majority infected. Several ribs seemed broken, his face was bruised, he was running a dangerously high fever from probable blood poisoning and showed signs of both dehydration and malnutrition. There were rope burns on his wrists, but those were not nearly as concerning as the deep red gashes around the inner part of his arms. For a while, she'd wondered if the best course of action would be removing the damaged tissue altogether. But with the fragile state he was in she didn't dare. There was no sense in causing him even more distress when the risk was so high it would be too late regardless.

The man's injuries were horrific. It took days before she couldn't even tell if what she was doing was saving his life, or just easing his passing.

It wasn't that she was inexperienced with tough cases, she'd been a healer for many years, tending to all those whom nobody else would help. But usually when someone was very ill or severely injured they were so by unfortunate happenstance. It's women who'd had complications from childbirth, or men who'd been maimed in work accidents, or children who've been afflicted by unfortunate but commonplace diseases. It was very rare that she encountered someone so badly hurt intentionally.

It made her blood boil behind the professional bedside manner.

Still, she did what she could. It was hard to treat him when he was so out of it, any time she hovered a bit too close he flinched. The first time she'd cleaned and bandaged the wounds, she'd had to physically hold him down to stop him hurting himself further as he tried to escape the perceived threat. That should have been harder than it was, but he was gaunt and weak. He seemed somewhat comforted when she spoke, so she did. She spoke of her day, of chores, and insignificant nothings. She calmly narrated what she was doing as she did it.

A young gull sat at his bedside at all times, keeping watch while he fitfully slept. It regarded her every move like a hawk as she worked.

It had been the birds that led her to him abandoned on that beach. They'd circled high above the small stretch of land like a hurricane of wings; impossible to miss. She'd been interrupted in preparing her morning meal by one of the birds tapping incessantly at her window. Unperturbed, she'd opened the window to share some bread with it assuming it was simply drawn by her food. But it continued tapping at the glass as soon as she turned back away. She looked again, and suddenly there were two of them, sitting on her windowsill staring intently.

She stepped out into the morning air, and they took flight only to land again and stare back at her. That was when she spotted the flock, barely visible in the distance.

Jheselbraum had thought she was too late at first. The young man lying listless in the sand looked dead. But she spotted his chest rising and falling very slowly, and brought him back with her.

It took days, but—praised be the Axolotl—the man finally awoke.

Ford had no idea what to do now. He left Jheselbraum without much of anything to his name. He had his journal still in his coat, and his bird on his shoulder. She'd given him new clothes to replace his old destroyed ones, and bartered a place on a ship back to his childhood home for him. The people respected her, it seemed most everyone in the area knew someone who's life she'd saved. He supposed he counted amongst their ranks now.

The voyage was long, but eventually he'd reached his old port. The same one he and Stan had played in amongst the clamor and the ships. It looked the same, but it felt wrong. Too large and loud without his brother at his side. His own childhood playground shouldn't feel so overwhelming and threatening.

Nervously, he walked down the rows of homes and businesses tensing up and flinching at the shouts of merchants. He wanted to flee from it, but he steeled his resolve and kept walking until he finally reached the house he recognised the most.

He'd hoped for comfort. For Ma to reassure him and for the familiar rooms to offer safety. He'd hoped for his big brother, hugging him right and promising to keep him safe. He'd hoped for news of where Stan was, determined to track him down and set right what had gone so horribly wrong.

Instead he found strangers in his home, and two new graves in the local cemetery.

The neighbors told him his parents had passed not too long ago, and Sherman had left for lands unknown. Nobody had seen Stan. Filbrick told them he'd gone after Ford, and died doing it. Ford had nothing to come home to.

Everything he'd had before Bill was gone.

He made a new goal for himself that day. Jheselbraum had told him she thought Bill was inhuman. Ford certainly agreed. He wasn't a person, he was a monster.

And Ford was going to find a way to put that monster down.

Stan read the final page of the journal aloud, Staring emptily at the page.

With this, I return to where he left me to die and bury this book. I'm still alive, but the man I was before him died here. It seems a fitting memorial. I don't need painful memories and naively optimistic research.

I need revenge.

Stan shut the leather bound tome heavily, breathing hard to keep from breaking with the kids so close.

Ford was alive.

At least, he'd survived Bill.

"So… Bill lied?" Dipper asked hesitantly.

“Bill is a liar." Stan agreed. "But when he lies, there's no consistency. He never bothers to remember which lie he told whom. He’s told me about Ford. Over and over and over again; all the goddamn graphic detail he can. Bastard thinks it’s funny.” His shoulders trembled. “Thirty years, his story hasn’t changed. He doesn't know.”

He looked at the children, regarding him with a mix of trepidation and anticipation.

"We're coming up on Gravity Falls." He told them. "Fiddleford. We need to talk to Fiddleford."

#gravity falls #pirate au #my fics #i think this might be my favourite character yet #also longest chapter tho #warning that it gets kind of dark #tw torture #tw animal death #tw suicidal thoughts #also my text formatting got kind of messed up by Tumblr but this is 7000 words long #I'm not going to go through that and individually change every instance

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sehunniepotwrites · 3 years

Text

when the ball drops, our hearts stop | mk.l

gif created by @nctsworld

SYNOPSIS ☆ In which being dragged and ditched at a New Year’s Eve gala with your so-called enemy doesn’t end as badly as you thought it would.

GENRE ☆ enemies-to-lovers!au, fluff, suggestive PAIRING ☆ mark lee x (f) reader WORD COUNT ☆ 2666 WARNINGS ☆ suggestive content ahead!! dirty dancing, neck kisses, alcohol consumption, mentions of cheating, cursing

PLAYLIST ☆ new year’s day - taylor swift

“What are you doing on New Year’s Eve?” had to be the number one question that was sent your way and unlike last year, you didn’t have an answer. Finding your lack of plans to celebrate the upcoming year with a bang, your best friend Wendy decided to drag you to the great outdoors.

And by the great outdoors, she meant the biggest New Year’s Gala in the city. So there you were, in the grandest hotel in the heart of the city, downed in a glittery silver power suit that hugged your body in just the right way. A matching belt wrapped around to cinch your waist and the low cut of your blazer and lack of undershirt only accentuated the curves you usually preferred hiding. Hair curled up and face painted with the most flattering colors for your skin tone, you were rocking and ready to go.

The gala was packed with people your age and older with a mix of top forty music blaring from the loudspeakers. Everyone was dressed to the nines, wearing suits and dresses that went with the gold and silver theme. Bodies were pressed against each other on the dance floor and you were sure Wendy and her boyfriend Johnny were in that crowd as well. They were always the type to be caught up in all the fun— you, not so much, not since your breakup with your ex that occurred five months ago anyway.

You wanted to stray away from the party scene since it was your ex’s scene as well but fuck it, it was New Year’s Eve and you deserved to have fun. Your definition of fun included an obscene amount of alcohol, courtesy of Son Wendy and the credit card she slipped into the palm of your hand before making her way to the dance floor.

Of course, you promised that you would chat and get to know some people, maybe find someone to share a New Year’s kiss with but it was all a lie. You just wanted your free drinks and the loneliness haunting your mind to fade away.

Three Long Island Iced Teas and a bit way past tipsy into your night, a person pushed their way next to you at the bar, their body pressing against your side as they ordered a drink. You couldn’t see them, your hair creating a curtain and blocking them from view but you felt their eyes on you. It wasn’t until you leaned forward and took another sip of your drink that the person talked to you, immediately recognizing your face.

They called your name a bit cockily and you flinched at the sound, sober enough to pinpoint the exact person next to you but drunk enough to engage in a conversation with him. Swiveling your barstool to face him, you shot him a curt smile, lifting your drink up from the bar in greeting. “Mark,” you nodded as you drank him in.

“Yo.”

As much as you hated to admit it, Mark Lee was handsome. His hair had been dyed a shade of blond and was styled in a way that made your heart unwillingly skip a beat. His grey velvet suit clung onto his body oh-so-well and the black tie that contrasted against the bright white of his shirt looked almost too tempting, the drunken state of your mind was urging you to pull it so he could step closer to you.

What did people say? Drunken thoughts, sober words? Yeah, fuck that.

“Johnny invited you?” you questioned as you sucked on the straw of your drink. You watched as his eyes flickered from your eyes to your lips for a fraction of a second, his lips curving into the smirk you wanted to punch off his face. Or kiss.

“Yeah, should’ve figured I would see you when John invited me. You and Wendy are like a packaged deal, you know?” he replied as the bartender dropped off his drink. This time, your gaze was glued to his mouth as he took a swig of his drink, eyes slightly widening as his tongue peeked out before he downed the liquid courage.

Coughing out of embarrassment, you looked away before Mark could catch you eyeing his seemingly delectable mouth.

“You look like the mirrorball that’s about to drop,” he commented on your fit of the night. Glancing down at your suit, you frowned. It didn’t look that bad, did it?

When you shifted in your seat yet again, it sent your head spinning for a second, leaving you to grasp against Mark’s toned arm for balance. “I feel like one too,” you threw back. “Is the room spinning?”

“Shit, dude, how much did you drink?” His voice dropped lower in slight concern.

You hold up three fingers before blinking. No, it was four. You raised another finger.

“All of them iced teas?”

“Yup!”

He cursed “Where’s your asshole of a boyfriend? Don’t see him around anywhere— doesn’t he know it’s not safe to leave their girl alone at the bar?” Mark pushed, suddenly worried about your safety. He asked if anyone had hit on you yet and let out a sigh of relief when you reiterated that no one had bothered you. Despite the insult thrown your ex’s way, you remembered how considerate the guy was. The only real reason you hated Mark was due to the rivalry he held with your ex-boyfriend.

“I dunno,” you shrugged, shoulders raising and the material of your blazer shifting. Mark coughed, eyes quickly darting away so they wouldn’t land on the deep cut into your cleavage. “Probably sucking face with the bitch he left me for.”

Another long swig of your iced tea and suddenly, the drink was gone with only ice in the glass. You pointed a finger at his face, “Don’t cheat, folks. It’ll wreck a person.”

“Fuck,” Mark muttered under his breath, now fuming with anger that someone would cheat on a girl like you. It only grew when he realized your best friends had left you at the bar alone. He was going to rip their heads off later— how irresponsible of them.

“Maybe that’s enough drinking for you today,” he told you, wanting to cut you off so you could sober up. He waved a hand in the air to call the bartender over to request two glasses of water, which was immediately prepared for you.

“Drink up,” Mark commanded, holding the straw to your lips.

You thanked him with a lazy smile before drinking away, sighing at the refreshing feeling of the cold water running down your throat. He held the drink for you in his hands as you continued to work on the glass, only setting it down after you finished it.

“Thanks,” you whispered, touching your forehead to his shoulder. He felt comfortable and you didn’t want to move as you breathed in the addicting scent of his cologne. You always preferred Mark’s fresh cologne over your ex’s overwhelmingly woody scent. It was consoling and safe and nice and—

“Hey, why don’t we move you to a booth? You’ll be more comfortable there,” Mark softly suggested.

“But what if I want to dance for once?” you whined.

“Let’s get you to sober up a bit more and then I can take you dancing, how ‘bout that?” His breath hit your ear and you laughed at the cold sensation before nodding. A flush that had nothing to do with the alcohol you consumed took over your face as the man you said you hated wrapped a supporting arm around your waist.

An hour later, your drunken state was fading as was the loneliness you were dreading. Mark Lee made an excellent company; he wasn’t at all what your ex painted him out to be. He was kind, caring, and endearingly sweet with the prettiest pair of eyes to match. The way his body wiggled to match his overflowing giggles brought the brightest smile to your lips, something you hadn’t experienced in quite some time.

The time spent with him in the small booth rekindled the crush you harbored for him before you met your sad excuse of an ex, heart fluttering against your chest.

“Hey,” he leaned over the table, his face so close to yours. “You wanna move closer to the screen so we can see the ball drop clearly? It’s forty to midnight. We can dance, too.”

Your eyes curled up in excitement as you agreed, easily slipping your hand in his like you had done it a million times before. The feeling of his larger hand wrapped around yours sent you into a high that you couldn’t really describe. All you knew was that you didn’t want him to let go and thank god he didn’t.

Mark only held you tighter as you arrived on the dance floor with a clear view of the screen. The bass thumped as he tentatively quirked a brow, silently asking you to dance. You replied by draping your arms over the slopes of his shoulder, your fingertips playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. Tugging you closer at the waist, Mark shot you another look to see if you were okay. The tightening grip around his neck was enough of an answer for him.

You shivered as his hands ran up and down the sides of your body, his touch almost burning through your glittered suit. When Mark least expected it, you turned around in his hold, pressing your backside against his front. A groan slipped out of his lips before his head dropped against your shoulder, his moist lips ghosting against the exposed skin of your neck. You reached back to hold his head in place as your body grinded into his.

The hand holding your waist tightened at your ministrations, squeezing you in a way that drove you crazy and the pair of lips that left a cautious kiss drove you crazier. The moan you let out and the way your free hand depressed against the one placed on your side was all the confirmation Mark needed to continue the trail of kisses he planned on leaving over the expanse of your neck. You enjoyed the feeling of his lips on your skin so much, your head rolled back and your eyes fluttered to a pleasured close as he nipped at your skin.

The next half hour was spent with you encaged in Mark’s hold and you weren’t ashamed to say that you enjoyed every minute of it. When catching eyes with Wendy and Johnny across the dance floor, you laughed as your best friend wiggled her brows at you and shot a thumbs up your way. It was then, you realized, that it was their plan to get you two together all along.

Your friends had always mentioned you would get along great, the only thing stopping you was the blasted and unnecessary rivalry that blossomed between Mark and your ex. Now that the terrible excuse of a person was out of your life, there was room for a new man and you found yourself not hating the idea of Mark being the next keeper of your heart.

Five minutes to midnight, you turned around in his hold and smiled up at him. He returned the look with a soft grin of his own.

“You’re not as bad as I thought you were, Mark Lee.”

“Took you long enough to notice,” he chuckled lowly, the sound sending a warm feeling to the pit of your stomach. “I never thought of you as bad, you know?”

“Is that so?” you countered, your hand freely running through his blond tresses.

“Yeah, I always thought you were great.”

“Just great?” you teased, leaning a bit forward.

He groaned, “Ugh, dude, you know what I mean.”

“I don’t think I do, dude,” you pushed further, leaving him to touch his head against your shoulder again. You were starting to think that he loved to do it.

“I always thought you were pretty special,” he whispered into your skin.

Placing a kiss on the top of his head, you answered back, “I never wanted to admit it but I thought you were pretty special, too.”

“Glad to finally see that the feeling’s mutual,” he laughed before he returned the favor with a kiss to your jaw.

When the countdown from twenty began, Mark shifted both your bodies to face the screen as the people around you started to shout the numbers at the top of their lungs. Wendy and Johnny fought their way through the crowd to get to you and you briefly squeezed your best friend’s hand in greeting. Ready to leave the current year behind and welcome in the new one, you pressed your side into Mark’s before joining in on the countdown.

You were shining, Mark noticed, like the mirrorball that was projected on the screen. It wasn’t like he mentioned earlier— it had nothing to do with the silver of the suit. It was just you and the way you shined so brightly as your voice blended with the others in the room. You were lost in the feeling and he loved the way you looked under the dim lights.

He hoped he could see you in more nights to come, for more opportunities to hold you the way he did on the dance floor.

Mark Lee, who was in love with you longer than he could even remember, wanted your midnights and more. He wanted to hold on to the memories of keeping you close and to create new ones if you would let him.

Hold onto the memories and they’ll hold onto you or so they said.

His eyes were stuck on you like glue as the crowd reached number ten.

Nine!

Mark’s hand wriggled around the ends of your blazer.

Eight!

His fingertips were hot against your bare skin.

Seven!

Mark tugged you closer to him, making you lose your grip on Wendy’s hand.

Six!

He found your hand reaching for his, fingers tangling together like the red string of fate.

Five!

His heart was beating a mile a minute at the feeling of your thumb rubbing against his skin.

Four!

You jerk your head towards him with glistening eyes and the widest smile. His eyes darted down to your colored lips before shifting back to meet your gaze.

“You wanna kiss me so bad,” you teased as your eyes followed his actions and ended up watching his tongue peek out to moisten his now dry lips.

Three!

“And what if I do?”

Two!

“Well, I’m not going to stop you,” came your flirty reply.

One!

And when the ball dropped from the sky, your hearts stopped for a brief moment.

Cheers for the new year came from all around but Mark Lee didn’t care— all he cared about was your lips fiercely crashing against his. He spun your body round so it slotted so perfectly against his, much like two pieces of a puzzle coming together as a whole.

The sensation of finally kissing your lips after secretly longing for you was more than satisfactory; it was addictive, more addictive than the drinks he consumed or any other tempting substance that existed in the world. Mark Lee was enthusiastically devoted to kissing you and the idea of ceasing never crossed his mind.

The only reason he did was for you to catch a breath. His eagerness never faltered, his lips running down to your jaw and the sides of your neck. He pecked your temple and forehead as you giggled at his over-the-top display of affection and it was music to his ears.

Pulling you flush into his chest, he whispered a late greeting into your ear, “Happy New Year.”

With your hands resting against his pecs, you glanced up at him with a charming smile, making his heart drop for the second time in the new year.

“A happy new year indeed.”

author’s note ☆ surprise! happy new year, everyone! (and happy 500+ followers to me!) i coughed this out in like five hours so it’s unedited and not my best work, but i wanted to release something in time for the new year! wishing you the best 2021!!

this was originally a request and i finally filled it!! ✨

#dreamwritersnet #cznnet #neowritingsnet #mark lee #nct mark lee #nct x reader #nct scenarios #nct imagines #nct fluff #nct smut #mark scenario #mark imagines #mark fanfic #mark fluff #mark lee x reader #nct 127 scenarios #nct dream #nct dream scenarios #nct 127

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sevlgi · 3 years

Text

bubblegum pop

requested: no

group: twice

pairing: sana x fem!reader

genre: fluff

contents: rich girl!sana, college!au, cashier!reader.

warnings: none

synopsis: An unfortunately hostile encounter with the school’s sweetest rich girl might just lead to more than you ever expected.

a/n: inspired by @pearicot‘s mean girl rosie series! (by the way, i’m not trying to feed into the “dumb sana” stereotype with this; i just thought that her personality fitted the character i was trying to achieve! does anyone wanna request continuations or scenarios in this universe 👀

word count: 3.3k

Something about Mondays the week of finals always got you in a bad mood, especially when you had to work double shifts at the same stupid ice cream shop you’d worked at for the past 2 years of college.

So maybe, just maybe, there was reasoning behind you snapping at the love of your life during your first meeting.

Actually, there really, really wasn’t.

There were plenty of mean girls on campus who you wouldn’t regret yelling at whatsoever, but you just happened to blow up at one of the considerably nicer rich girls.

Minatozaki Sana didn’t mean anything bad when she innocently held out a hundred dollar bill to pay for a $5 ice cream. She didn’t mean to seem pretentious, nor did she mean to mock you and your minimum-wage job, but you just so happened to take it that way.

“Really? You have to rub it in my face like that?”

Sana stared at you, the money that she held out wavering in the ear. “Sorry?”

Pinching the space between your eyebrows, you huffed out an exasperated breath. Luckily, there was no one else in the shop about to witness the stupidest meltdown of your life. “You think I don’t know that I’m poor? It’s five dollars for God’s sake, no need to bring out the big guns. Oh, or are you doing this to avoid seeming more pretentious with your daddy’s black card?”

The brunette’s hand retreated quickly, the heels of her Louboutins clacking softly against the pastel-toned linoleum of the ice cream shop. Fuck, you hated that linoleum. “I... I didn’t mean any of that, I swear! Um, is there an ATM near here?”

Once again, the girl meant well, and you took it badly. You scoffed, glaring disbelievingly at her. Some part of you was screaming out that you were putting your entire job at stake, and your morals as well, but you disregarded any common sense remaining in your brain. “An ATM for 5 bucks? Dude, just don’t.” Dipping your hand into the tip jar, you scrounged out a lousy crumpled bill and threw it down on the counter, shoving the bubblegum-flavored sweet to Sana. “Okay? Now get out, I don’t want to see your privileged ass anywhere near here.”

The dense gray clouding your mind somehow missed the hurt expression on the girl’s face as the staff door swung open. Wendy’s hands, though gentle on your shoulders, shoved you behind her with surprising force. “I am so sorry, Sana, it’s finals week. Surely you can understand? The ice cream’s on the house.”

“No, of course it’s okay!” Sana sounded genuine enough, that was for sure; you caught her glancing worriedly at you a couple times, nothing malicious whatsoever in her eyes. “I can pay though, are you sure?”

“I’m sure. See you in class,” Wendy called out, smiling all the while until the girl disappeared into the Lamborghini parked by the curb. As soon as that happened, she turned back to you, concern tugging at the corner of her lips. “Y/N...”

“Yeah, I know,” you mumbled as you crossed your arms. Already, you were regretting what you said, though you were far too stubborn to actually apologize on the spot. “No arguing with customers about capitalism. Sorry, Wendy.”

The girl bit her lip, scanning the store to make sure that there wasn’t about to be an influx of customers. Usually she enjoyed working with you; you just had absolutely terrible mood swings sometimes, and those days were nothing short of hellish for her to deal with. “Just head home. Focus on your finals, and come back next week. Okay?”

You hesitated to agree, knowing that you needed the money, but the grim expression on Wendy’s face told you that you had no other option. “Okay. Sorry.”

As you snatched up your stuff and shoved the door to the street open, you missed the sight of Sana watching you through the tinted windows of her 6-figure car.

“Really? Sana?”

“I know,” you groaned, biting down on the plastic spoon in your mouth. The flavor of the month (the only one you could eat completely free) lingered unpleasantly on your tongue, the taste of it oddly salty. “She was so nice about it, too.”

Jeongyeon and Mina exchanged glances, not touching their respective cups of “Ocean Caramel” either. It was extremely kind of them to come and accompany you on the slow days, both of them even offering to suffer through the gross ice cream with you. “If it was Park Roseanne I might understand, but Sana,” Mina winced. Jeongyeon nodded in agreement; after all, everyone on campus knew about the reputations of Roseanne and Sana.

On one end of the “rich girl” spectrum, Roseanne was quite possibly the bitchiest one of all. She and her Bugatti Veyron, the college upgrade from her old McLaren, absolutely weren’t to be messed with. People who went to high school with you often told story of the G Wagon she smashed, the locker room she lit on fire, and so many other horror tales of a spoiled girl gone wild. You were sure that had you gone off on her, even Wendy wouldn’t have stopped you.

But on the other end, Sana was notoriously kind. Sure, her family raked in an income close to that of the other girl’s, and her wardrobe was just as expensive, but she made a point to donate to charities every time she went shopping. She tipped in the hundreds, and she didn’t ever ask for her designer clothes back when she lent them to strangers. She paid any dinner bill in full when she was there, and sometimes even when she wasn’t invited.

No one was entirely sure about the relationship between the two, but Roseanne seemed to hate Sana more than she did other people. The two fought publicly occasionally, but Sana’s kind heart made it so that even Roseanne couldn’t carry a fight very long. She didn’t respond to insults, it seemed, nor did she ever seem to actually take them personally.

Stirring her half-melted soup, Mina continued, “Hopefully she doesn’t hold it against you. She doesn’t seem like the type, but...”

Jeongyeon shook her head, opening her mouth just as the doorbell rang. You froze when you looked up to find a designer-dressed bombshell, a sweet smile outlined in Chanel Rouge Allure. She looked completely out of place amidst tired college kids spending their last paycheck on ice cream, white gauzy sleeves and blue dress shimmering under LED lights. If you were being honest, you’d say that she was the most beautiful person you’d seen in your life, but you were always well versed in lying to yourself. “Y/N, you better go.”

“Why?” you whined, pouting at your much more responsible friends. They ignored your puppy face, though; Jihyo was usually the only one you could sway, Momo sometimes if she was feeling merciful. “I’m on break.”

“Only when there’s no customers,” Mina argued, shoving you to stand. Jeongyeon smiled at you, waving you away. “Go, and don’t screw it up this time.”

You forced a smile onto your face when you reached the counter, bowing and adjusting your name tag. “Hi, what can I help you with today?”

“Hi, Y/N!” Sana grinned, bowing back. The fact that she remembered your name only made your guilt worse; if she forgot who you were, you could at least pretend that she didn’t remember the incident at all. “Ah, could I have the same thing as last time? Bubblegum Pop ice cream, on a sugar cone today. 3 scoops?”

Nodding, you moved to open the case, avoiding the girl’s gaze as you did. “Of course.” She was quiet at that, staring at the ceiling so as not to rush you. Without prompting, you blurted, “I’m... I’m really sorry about last week, by the way. I don’t know what I was thinking, blowing up at you like that.”

“Oh, no, it’s okay!” she protested, waving a manicured hand in the air. “I promise I understand you. We all have our bad days.”

You wanted to apologize again, if just to assuage your guilt, but you held off on it, joking, “How do you deal with them? Yell at Gucci assistants?”

Sana looked honestly offended as she accepted the cone proffered to her, eyes widening in shock. “I’ve never done that, I swear! Besides, I don’t like Gucci much.”

A light smile quirking at the corners of your lips, you handed the receipt to her as well. She didn’t ask for it, probably not caring about the measly price or having the space for it in her tiny bag, but took it anyway. “I’m sure you don’t. Your total is $5.23, will that be cash or card?”

“Cash!” She held out a 10 dollar bill, pride shining behind that gorgeous face as you raised your eyebrows in surprise. When your hands brush together, you were reminded of how much better she was than you, how you probably weren’t worthy at all to be touching her with your shop-issued baseball cap and grimy apron. But Sana doesn’t seem to mind, still smiling that airy smile at you and not moving away. She broke your stare by offering, “I don’t want to sound rude, but keep the change.”

“Not rude at all,” you fully laughed that time, dishing out the remainder to stuff in your tip jar. You still felt terrible that she felt the need to apologize about such a normal comment, asking, “Are you sure it’s okay? You can have this one free too, if it makes up for me shouting at you...”

Sana shook her head, sugary light pink already mixing into her lipstick. She walked away, still waving with that gorgeous smile on her face. “It’s okay. I’ll see you soon, Y/N, you look really pretty today!”

Turning back to your friends, you whispered, “Damn. She’s really nice.”

You planned on spending your one day off from school and work cozied up with a good book and your favorite hot drink, but you supposed that getting into a fight with Park Roseanne wasn’t the worst way to go either.

As soon as you entered campus, book in hand and blasting music in your earbuds, you found a crowd of at least 3 dozen people right in front of the library building. It was unlike you to butt into others’ business, especially when it might lead to a ruined day, but Roseanne’s voice carried loud over the hushed whispers of everyone else. “--huh, Sana?”

It wasn’t any of your business, but for some reason, Roseanne’s tone when saying Sana’s name angered you immensely. Frowning, you shouldered your way through the crowd. The closer you got to the center, the more expensive the clothing that brushed against your own rough jean jacket was, cotton and leather becoming silk and velvet. You originally planned to just fit in with the other spectators, but with a shove at the small of your back, you were thrust into the center too.

To your shock, Sana’s eyes were red and shining with tears, the tip of her nose cherry-colored as well. Her head was almost bowed as she stared at her shoes, but she looked up to you when you almost bumped into her. You stuttered out, “H-hey. What’s going on?”

Instead of an explanation from the Japanese girl, though, your gaze was drawn to the blonde across the courtyard. “Didn’t you hear? Little Miss Perfect here got broken up with,” Roseanne scoffed, an infuriating smirk on her perfect face as she tilted her head at you. “By a future CEO, no less. I guess she isn’t a gold-digger, or maybe there’s some other reason that he didn’t want her anymore.”

Your hand shot out to protect Sana, a scowl making its way onto your own face. “Excuse me? From my standpoint, any future CEO is still way outta her league, so forgive me for doubting that he’s the one who didn’t want her. You’re the one dating someone who makes a tenth of what you do.”

Roseanne rolled her eyes, lips thinning. “Don’t talk about my girlfriend like that, Y/L/N, or you’ve got another thing coming. There aren’t many lesbians in this damn school.”

“You know me, don’t you?” Sana’s voice was wavering as she spoke, but it was strong enough to echo in the courtyard. To your surprise (and somewhat satisfaction), the blonde girl’s eyes widened as Sana stood forward, her lips jutting forward. “That’s why I’m not dating him anymore. I like girls, too.”

Somehow, you’d never expected that Sana was attracted to girls, but it made perfect sense. An irrational part of you wanted to cheer, but instead, you forced yourself to speak.

“R-right.” You continued to glare at Roseanne, who finally seemed to be speechless. “Yeah, so how come you’re tearing Sana down? We should be supporting each other, but you’re being so rude to someone so kind, and that says all I need to know about you.”

Reaching out, you latched onto Sana’s upper arm and pulled her out of the circle, people parting to let the two of you through as Roseanne wasn’t able to conjure up something to respond with. You didn’t stop walking until there was only silence surrounding you under the shade of a swaying tree, finally stopping to let the girl sit. “Are you okay?” you asked, brow furrowed as you knelt to be mostly face-level with her.

Somehow, there was a smile on her face; a slightly snotty smile, but nonetheless the most beautiful one you’d ever seen in your life. You ignored the uncomfortable leap of your heart when you reached out to take her hands into your own, somehow forgetting about the hostility you’d felt towards her from the beginning. “You- you stood up for me.”

“Yeah. I did, I guess,” you shrugged, smiling slightly. “I’m sure that was rough, though, to come out. How’re you feeling?”

“Honestly, much better,” Sana sighed. She leaned back, fingers curling slightly around yours as the afternoon sun shone golden brown in the locks of hair spread out on her shoulders. “It was good to get it off my chest. I didn’t even know you were into girls, you know.”

Reaching up to scratch your head, you chuckled, “Well, I am, if it makes you feel any better. What happened between the two of you, by the way? She seems to hate you so much.”

The girl laughed, as bubbly and airy as her regular voice. “I may or may not have dated her girlfriend before. But it was a long time ago, and I’m still friends with her! Roseanne just can’t forgive me.”

You feigned shock, swatting at her arm. “How terrible of you! I’m so disappointed.”

You were stuck simply smiling at each other for a good minute or so before you looked away, picking at your shoelace for something to do. “So. Uh, Roseanne knew the whole time?”

“She did,” Sana confirmed, nodding. “She just never talked about it.”

“Well, it’s good to know that she isn’t the only other one in the school with me,” you sighed, sitting back on your heels.

Sana lurched back forward, hands clasping together at her chest. “Then we should celebrate! We can go shopping or something, and we can just be happy that we aren’t alone anymore.”

It suddenly struck you how quickly you could change the girl’s entire outlook, a smile coming onto her face with no effort from you whatsoever. But even more surprising, you smiled even larger than she did just looking at her.

Laughing, you sat back on your heels and shook your head lightly. Seeming to take it as a rejection, Sana’s eyes widened. “Oh, only if you want to, of course! We can go wherever you want, we don’t even have to go shopping if you don’t want to!”

“No, we can go shopping,” you answered, reaching back over to squeeze her hand and pulling her up with you when you stood. “Come on, then. Let’s go celebrate.”

Sana wasn’t a great driver, but you didn’t expect much else. You were practically sick to your stomach by the time that you reached the mall, face green as you swayed out of the car.

“Ah, Y/N, I’m sorry!” Her hands rubbed lightly at your back as you squatted in the parking lot, fist held tight to your mouth. It wasn’t like you were actually going to throw up, but you didn’t want to risk ruining the girl’s expensive shoes. “I’ll let you drive next time.”

Next time? you wanted to ask. But you managed to stand, nodding quickly to ease Sana’s worry. “Yeah. It’s fine, I’m fine. Should we go?”

Immediately, she latched onto your hand, swinging between the two of you as she started to rush forward. “H-hey, lock your car first!”

Sana had unsurprisingly expensive tastes, but also surprisingly understated ones. She was fun to shop with, that was for sure- she loved to offer you clothes and also to offer to pay for them, but you didn’t necessarily hate a pretty girl telling you you’d look gorgeous in a certain sparkly dress.

She didn’t do any of the typical stuck-up things you expected her to- Sana carried her own bags, and she never forced you to follow her instead of doing what you wanted to. She did like to try on outfits and show them to you, but that could be ignored when it was just another opportunity for you to stare at her.

Eventually, you ended up having ice cream at one of the stores in the mall. You balked at the price, but Sana swiped her credit card without hesitation. “I have to admit, this bubblegum doesn’t taste as good as yours,” she pouted.

Chuckling, you savored the rich flavor on your own tongue. “You should’ve picked an expensive flavor then. Vanilla and chocolate are always good in these kinds of stores.”

“You know a lot about ‘these kinds of stores’ for someone who claims to be poor,” she teased, eyes widening as soon as the words slipped out of her mouth. “Oh, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean-”

“Nah, it’s fine,” you smiled, leaning on your palm. “I’m good with it, since we’re friends now.”

Sana grinned at that, her eyes curving charmingly. “We’re friends? Most people don’t want to be friends with me, I’m really glad you’re willing to.”

“Why wouldn’t they?”

Looking down for once, the girl mumbled, “They say I’m dumb. You know that everyone says I’m nice, but they also think I’m dumb because I pay for everything. I just want to be kind, but no one takes me seriously.”

A wave of guilt rushed over you for previously feeding into the stereotype. The more time you spent with Sana, the more you realized that she was as brilliant as any other, and far more kind. “Well, that’s stupid. You are kind, Sana, and you’re amazing. I’m lucky to be your friend.”

She clasped your hand over the table, soft skin warm over yours, pink flushing in her pale cheeks. “Thank you, Y/N. You know, this is the best time I’ve had in a while. My boyfriend didn’t even listen to me this well,” she laughed.

Despite the fact that she treated it as a joke, you felt horrible. She was all too used to thinking the worst about herself and not believing that she was worth any better, and that was the worst possible thing you could imagine for a girl with a heart of gold. Jabbing your spoon into the remaining ice cream, you blurted, “Then go on a date with me. A proper one, not just a normal hangout like this.”

Sana instantly blushed, looking down as if it’d hide her face at all. But she missed the heat that rose to your cheeks too, the nervous biting of your lip as you waited for a response. “I would love nothing more,” she smiled, her eyes shining brilliantly. “And I can’t wait.”

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writeiolite · 3 years

Note

"you called me up again just to break me like a promise".

now playing... ❝ all too well ❞

who: suna x gn!reader

what: angst

wc: 509

SING: m.list . 01 . 02

Holy fuck what is wrong with him? You could put him under a magnifying glass— no, a telescope... no, what looks even deeper? Whatever, it doesn’t matter. The point is that you could analyze Suna down to his very atoms and still not understand what his deal is.

What gave him the bright idea to call you and ask to see you again after what he did to you? Does he even realize what he did, or does he think that you’re having a “hormonal fit” as he liked to call it?

Whatever, it doesn’t matter.

You never mattered.

“Can I help you?”

“Didn’t know this was a Wendy’s drive-thru.”

“Not like you could afford to be here anyway.”

The air between you two sparks, threatening to catch fire if you don’t choose your words carefully.

“I thought you would’ve been in Italy or something with your newest girlfriend.” You really tried to keep your tone even, to block out the accusatory attitude and replace it with neutrality, but all you could manage was pitiful desperation. Weakness where there should be strength; insecurity where there should be independence. The traits that you spent years building — years that your best friend left you because his ex told him to — seem to have left too.

“I’m going next month,” he shrugged. “Can I come in or are we gonna talk outside? This is weird.”

You want to rip his eyeballs out and pickle them but he thinks things are just weird? “Of course, you are,” you mutter. “And no, we can talk out here. I have to leave soon.”

He glances at your pajama shorts and slippers with slight amusement in his bored eyes, knowing just as well as you do that you’re not going anywhere, but he doesn’t ask. “Sure... Anyway, I have an extra boarding pass to Italy. Did you want to come? I did promise to take you with me to Europe one day.”

“Tch...” You almost want to spit on him. He waits 3 years to invite his “best friend” to Europe? To bring up a promise he already broke? To take you somewhere with a mysterious ticket? “Wow, getting dumped must mean you have to go down your friend list for a new travel buddy.”

He doesn't say anything, just shoves his hands into his pockets and glares like he used to always do when you said something out of hand. Except this time you’re prepared for it. You don’t wince back or apologize right away, not when you’ve had this acid burning in your throat for so long. It’s time for him to get used to the taste too.

“I’m not interested in Italy anymore.” You step inside your apartment, closing the door in his face when his foot blocks the way.

“What then? What would you rather do?”

Laugh. Yell. Throw something. Cry. Kick your ass. He might as well have taken you to a buffet and asked you what to eat.

“Well, maybe if you were my friend then you’d know.”

#haikyuu angst #suna x reader #suna angst #rintaro suna #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fic #haikyuu imagine #haikyuucreations #suna #haikyuu #suna imagines #inquire iolite #anon

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noladyme · 3 years

Text

La Cuervo - Chapter 14

She is used to the biker-life, having grown into a woman in the familiar embrace of SAMCRO. A bad decision and a gun-shot later, she gets whisked off to Santo Padre, and put under the protection of another club. What is supposed to be a short stint in the Mayan headquarters just north of the border to Mexico, turns into something more; when la quervo begins to develop feelings for el angel - and he seems to return them in kind...

TW: violence, blood, drug use, alcohol, smut, fluff, angst

In the spirit of "The Crown Princess of Charming", this is a story about O.C. Nina and Angel Reyes. It is obviously non-canon, as characters who have passed on on Mayans M.C. are present in it, and others have been excluded completely. Nina is written as a cis-female, but I have tried to keep her race and looks as ambigous as possible. Should you find any of this story offensive, please let me know.

It wasn’t until Nina was alone, that realization struck her. She’d just agreed to leave Angel. Her Angel. The man who had brought her back to life. The thought struck her like a freight train, and she froze in place, almost literally. Her whole body went cold, and she felt like she couldn’t move for the longest time. The light in the room told her she must have sat like that for at least an hour. Finally able to move her head to look down, she looked at the crescent shaped cuts in her palms from her nails. Something wet began dripping onto them, and she found tears had begun running down her cheeks, without her even noticing it. Forcing her arm to reach for the pillow next to her, she took a deep breath, and held it to her face; before a wail like no other left her mouth. She screamed out her agony, not having felt anything like it since she’d been told that Jackson had gone through with his plan to kill himself. It was as if an actual death had occurred again; but this time it felt like her own.

After a while she put down the pillow again, and got to her feet. She opened the cabinets, and began pulling out he few belongings she’d brought to Santo Padre, and stuffed them in her backpack. Then she made the bed, and went into the small bathroom for her toothbrush. It looked so alone there, as if it missed standing next to Angel’s. She tore herself from the thought, and went to put that into her bag as well. Only the gun and her inhaler were left, and she went to pick them up, when she noticed the phone Bishop had given her laying on the counter by the sink. She picked it up, and sat down on the cot again.

She wasn’t sure who to call. No one could change her situation as it was; but she needed something – anything – to help her through. Just a voice to remind her that it wasn’t all for nothing. Looking at Jackson’s journal and the photo of his boys – which she’d saved for last – the answer came to her. She dialed up the number, praying to god that it was still the same as last time she’d used it. The call was picked up at the second ring.

“Hello?”. “Wendy? It’s Nina”, she said. “Hey, Nina. How is everything?”, Wendy replied. Nina heard a ruckus in the background. “Thomas, no more cookies…! Sorry. Someone decided sugar was a good replacement for lunch... Chibs told me you were going to Mexico”. Nina swallowed thickly. “Yeah… No, not really. I’m somewhere else”. “Well, I hope you’re enjoying yourself. What I’d give for a vacation…”, Wendy said. Nina knew she was just kidding. Wendy had never been happier than since she moved to the farm with the boys and Nero. “Yeah, well; vacation is over”, Nina muttered. “I was wondering if I could talk to the kids for a minute”. “Of course! They miss you”, Wendy said. There was another sound of something crashing in the background. “Sorry, I need to give Tommy a bath. No! We don’t wipe peanut butter on our faces…!”. Another crash. “Goddammit. Abel! Come to talk to aunt Nina while I help your brother… Take care, Nina”. Nina couldn’t help but smile a little, as she heard Wendy chase Tommy around the room. There was a short scrambling noise, before someone spoke again. “Hi, aunt Nina!”, a bright, young voice said on the other end. “Abel… Hi, buddy”, Nina said, instantly falling back into tears; but trying to stifle her sniveling. “How are you doing?”. “I’m ok… But Tommy broke my supersoaker…”. “Aw, that sucks. I’m sure he’s sorry”, Nina said. “Yeah, mommy Wendy made him apologize… You sound sad…”, Abel said. Nina wiped her eyes, as if the boy was right there in front of her. “No, I’m not sad. I just smelled your feet through the phone, and it made me cry”, she replied. “No, you didn’t!”, Abel laughed. “When are you gonna come visit? There’s a mule here, and we named him after you, even though he’s a boy; because daddy always said you were stubborn as a mule. And we have a trampoline, which is really cool, ‘cuz you can jump high. When I stretch up my arms when I jump, I’m almost as tall as Nero! And…”. “That’s great Abel. I’d love to see that…”. Nina sighed and closed her eyes, trying to picture the boy in front of her. He’d probably grown quite a bit, even after the picture Wendy had sent her was taken. “Are you being good for mommy Wendy?”. “Yeah, I eat my broccoli and everything. And I help Nero clean the horse-stalls”, Abel said. “That’s good. And you’re doing good in school?”, she asked, having to wipe her nose a bit. “Yeah… Do you have a cold? Your voice is funny”, Abel replied. “No, it’s still your feet, stinky!”, Nina chuckled. She heard bikes arriving on the lot, and felt another crying fit threatening to attack. “Look, buddy; I gotta run. I just wanted to make sure you were ok”. “I’m ok. Come visit us soon!”. “I promise, Abel. I love you!”. “Love you too. Bye!”. Abel hung up the call before Nina could say anything more. She quickly slipped the photo into the journal, and put it in her bag, before getting to her feet to face Angel.

---

The Mayans all looked to be in a good mood, when Nina opened the trailer door to step outside. EZ, Gilly and Coco went to gather the loaded sleep rolls, while Angel turned to look at her; a bright smile on his face.

Daniella came out of the clubhouse, and stood on the porch. She smiled shortly at Nina, before Angel noticed the blonde, and began approaching her. “Dani, we gotta talk”, he said. “Angel!”, Nina called out. He turned around, and looked at her confusedly. “Give me a minute”, he replied. “No. Now”, Nina declared, and stepped back inside the trailer. The Mayans all looked confused at this point, but didn’t intervene. Angel frowned, and gave Daniella a short look. She shrugged, before looking at Nina; palming her phone. Don’t try anything, she seemed to be saying. “Don’t go anywhere”, Angel said to her, and walked towards the trailer. “I’ll be right here, baby”, Daniella said.

Once inside the trailer, Angel closed the door. “Nina, what the fuck? I was just about to…”. “Daniella’s not the snitch. I talked to her”, Nina cut him off. “You what?”, Angel growled. “Girl talk”, Nina said. “She’s just here for you. Not to sell out your club”. She made herself keep an indifferent face while she spoke. “You should give her a chance”. “I’m not… What are you talking about?”.

Nina sighed deeply, and took a step back. “You and me… That was never gonna work out”. He tried to reach for her hand, but she turned around to throw her inhaler and gun into the bag. “Nina… What are you doing?”, Angel asked. “I’m leaving… Going home”, she replied. “Or somewhere else. I haven’t decided yet”. “You’re not going anywhere!”, Angel exclaimed, and yanked her bag out of her hands. “What the fuck is going on?”. Nina clenched her fists to hide the fact that her hands were shaking. Angel wouldn’t let her go unless she did something drastic. She swallowed thickly, and met his eyes with an indifferent gaze. “You people can’t protect me. I’m safer with SOA; what happened to Camille is proof of that”, she said. The furrow between Angel’s brows was deeper than ever. “I wasn’t gonna tell you this, but I talked to SAMDINO. I’m gonna take up Packer’s offer”. Angel looked like he’d been punched in the gut with a sledgehammer. “Packer… You wanna go be with Packer…”, he croaked. “Yeah… He’s… We’ve got history”, Nina lied. Angel’s expression was growing pained, but in spite of wanting to take him in her arms, and comfort him, Nina had to continue her ruse. “You said I was too good for this life. I’m not. I just want more than what you can give me. Queen of SAMDINO is the right step for me”.

She tried taking her bag back from Angel, but he threw it behind him; and grabbed a hold of her shoulders. “This is bullshit. What happened?”, he said. “I changed my mind. I don’t want to stay here”, Nina replied. “I’m sorry about that year I owe the club, but I’ll try to get some money, and have Chibs pay you whatever Bishop thinks I owe”. “This isn’t about money. You said you love me!”, Angel said, his voice breaking. Nina couldn’t say she didn’t; the words simply would not form in her mouth. She closed her eyes to avoid meeting Angel’s gaze, and let out a deep breath. “This isn’t about whatever I said or… felt”, she finally said. “We should have ended this the night we first slept together. It shouldn’t have gone further”. “Cuervo…”, Angel tried. “We’re done”, Nina declared, and forced his hands off her shoulders, before pushing past him, and grabbing her bag. “I’m sorry”. She almost ran out of the trailer, knowing Angel would physically try to stop her if she didn’t. “Nina!”, he called after her. She looked towards the porch; and through a haze of unshed tears, she saw Daniella smiling as she went.

Before anyone had a chance to stop her, Nina slipped into the front office, and dug out the small cashbox Chucky kept there. She felt bad for taking money from it, but she needed cash for wherever she was going. A few notes in hand, she ran off the lot, and down the road. Avoiding getting found in Santo Padre was difficult, as Nina had spent very little time away from the scrap yard. She knew she had to work fast to get as far away as possible, as soon as possible. There was no doubt in her mind that Angel would try to come after her – he was probably already on his way – and if he didn’t, Bishop might, to get her to fulfill her one-year promise.

Once out on the main road, she flagged down a car, and convinced the driver that she needed to get to a bus station; because her brother was sick, and she had to go see him. She was only half lying, she realized, as there was really only one place in the world she wanted to go in that moment. She had to go see her brother.

---

It took a little over a day to make the trip back to north California. The cash Nina had taken from the scrapyard could only get her so far by bus, and she had to hitch rides the rest of the way. Each time she heard the sound of a motorbike, or saw anyone wearing leather, she had the instinct to duck her head. She wasn’t sure what she was afraid of. Clearly, her cover wasn’t blown yet. Daniella wanted her alive, and if there was another snitch, they didn’t seem to be focused on her. It might have been the shame of how she’d run; how she’d been too weak to fight Daniella for what she wanted. Then again, that shame would have been greater and even more devastating, if fighting back had meant it would hurt her nephews. Ultimately, she was just distraught; and only wanted to speak with one person – even if he couldn’t reply.

It was just past midnight, when Nina finally made it to Redwood Memorial Cemetery, just outside of Charming. She’d gotten used to the heat in Santo Padre, and it was a cold night. With nothing more than a light jacket to cover herself, she was shivering as she walked down the rows of gravestones. She halted for a moment by a white stone, engraved with the name John Thomas Teller. Taking a moment to brush some stray leaves from the top of it, Nina sent a thought to the man who’d sired one of the most important people in her life; before moving on. Someone had left a bouquet of lilies on Tara’s grave. Her coworkers at St. Thomas, Nina figured. She chided herself for not having visited the grave more often, but coming to the cemetery had been painful the last couple of years. A fresh grave nearby sported multiple flower arrangements, and as no one was around, Nina nabbed a few roses from it, and left them next to the lilies. “Abel and Thomas are loved and safe. Sleep tight”, she whispered to the stone.

The last ten yards she had to walk towards her end goal felt like miles. A cold gush of wind made Nina shudder, and she threw her arms around herself; trying to rub some heat into them.

Jackson’s stone looked lonely, in spite of all the other’s surrounding it. It was like he had been in the last year of his life; surrounded by people, but alone in his pain. At the same time, it was incredibly peaceful; like it should be. He’d found rest from his torment and sorrow. Nina imagined him riding his bike down an ethereal highway; his father next to him, and Tara riding pivot. “Fucking soppy”, Nina chuckled to herself.

She sat down on the ground next to the stone, and ran her fingertips over the lettering. Jackson Nathaniel Teller. “I miss you…”, she began. She chewed her lips, and wiped away a stray tear. After a moment searching for the right words, she finally sighed. “I am so angry with you, Jackson. You left me… And I love you as well. I love you for everything you taught me about being a good person; which just makes me even more angry, because I’ll never be able to live up to the example you set… I fucked up. I took so many wrong turns after you died; even though I promised… I know you expected more from me, and I’m so sorry; but I’m not strong enough to…”. The stray tears had become two steady streams falling from her eyes. “You said, be happy… And I was really happy for the first time in what felt like forever. But I can’t be happy, and also live up to your example of protecting your family… My family”. She pressed the heels of her hands into her eyes, as if trying to force herself to stop crying. “Your boys are safe, and I’m gonna keep them that way. That means breaking my promise of being happy to you, but I also know it’s what you would do… So, I guess in some way, I’m still doing what you taught me…”. She took a deep breath, and finally the tears stilled.

Nina moved behind the stone, and leaned her back against it; as she had sat back-to-back with Jackson on the roof of the old clubhouse in Charming, before the explosion. She remembered how her whole body would rumble along with Jax’s; as he laughed at whatever ridiculous thing she would tell him about her day – or the time she’d told him she was planning to drop out of high school, and sign up with CaraCara once she turned 18. Yeah, that’s not happening, darlin’. I’ll tie your ass to the seat, until you’re wearing that cap and gown. I don’t wanna see my little sister’s naked ass on camera. It was that conversation, and his response, that made her keep the fact that she’d quit community college hidden for a full week; before Chucky sold her out. A pang of pain struck her heart as she remembered that she hadn’t even said goodbye to the good-humored little man.

After a long moment, Nina began speaking again “I know I can’t live in memories, but it’s the closest thing to happiness that I have now… And I want to tell you about him”. She took a deep breath, almost as nervous as if Jackson would have been able to respond. “His name is Angel… and you would hate him”, she chuckled. “He’s a biker… surprise! Bet you didn’t see that coming… He’s smug, and a smartass; and a horny little shit… He’s also a Mayan… I know! But he’s also… so kind and full of life… and sofucking hot… which is something I guess you didn’t need to know”. She chewed her lower lip, and closed her eyes, seeing Angel in front of her. “He’s got this dimple between his eyebrows when he gets frustrated or confused – which is quite often, if I’m gonna be honest… And he’s so much smarter and warm and lovable than he gives himself credit for. I’ve never felt more loved and cared for, than when I was with him… I mean, I felt that from you, and from Filip and the rest; but… This was different, because I wasn’t just a sister or a friend. I love him. Like love him…”. She frowned. “But it’s over. I had to end it”.

The cold was getting to her, so the shivers from her pain mixed with ones of freezing. She hadn’t eaten or drank anything for more than a day, and she was exhausted. She looked around her, not ready to leave; and not really knowing where to go anyway. Opening her backpack, Nina got out the journal, and opened a random page; running her fingers over the handwritten words. “Know that the decisions that you make effect everyone and everything, along with yourself. It has taken me a long time to realize that, and I wish I would have sooner. And as much as I want to help you, tell you what to do; I can't. Those choices will be yours, and yours alone. The only advice I can give you, is to examine who you are as a person and what you choose as your path in your life. Find your own truth. It will lead you to the things you love”. “I wish you could help me too”, she whispered. “I don’t know what my path is, and I can’t promise to get over this. I can’t promise that I will be happy; and we both know me well enough to know, that I’m not gonna handle this well… So, I’m just not gonna make any of those promises; it wouldn’t be honest of me if I did…”. She clutched the journal against her chest, and fished the .38 out of the bag; holding it in her hand. Nina sat for a long time, just looking at it. “I’m gonna sleep now. And then I’m gonna drink, and smoke, and try to get laid… and do everything else unhealthy, until I can finally become numb enough to… not chose your path”.

She had nothing else to say; simply couldn’t find the words. Instead, she curled up on the cold ground, closed her eyes; and let sleep take her over.

---

“Nina?”. She heard footsteps heading her way. Filip looked down at her disheveled state, and then at the gravestone and the gun in her hand; and his face dropped. “She’s here”, he said. Tig and Happy came up behind him. “Shit, muffin. What happened?”, Tig asked. Happy frowned. “Chibs, why is she here?”. “Not now, Hap’”, Filip said. “Let’s just get her out of here. Get the gun”. One of them scooped her into their arms; she was too exhausted to notice who…

---

The radio was turned all the way up, and she was swaying her hips to the music.

“Nina, get off the counter!”, Filip called out from across the room. He looked almost angry. Nina took a sip of her beer, and stretched her arms into the air. “Why? I thought the party was about to start…”, she laughed. Filip walked over to her, and wrapped his arms around her legs, making her fall over his shoulder. “Yes. A children’s birthday party. This is an ice cream shop, you lush”, he growled, and carried her out the back door; setting her down at the foot of the stairs going up to the actual SAMCRO clubhouse. She noticed Rat smiling apologetically at the arriving guests; which consisted of a group of 7-yearolds, and the flabbergasted mother of the birthday-boy. “Tell them I’m sorry”, Nina whispered very loudly to Filip, before looking towards the mother. “I’m sorry!”, she yelled.

Filip dragged her up the stairs, and more or less threw her on one of the leather couches. “Jesus Christ, Nina…”, he sighed exasperatedly. “We do actually need the front of this operation functioning”. “Pfft”, Nina sputtered. “Everyone in town knows what this place is. You’re leather clad bikers who sell guns, for fucks sake! I need a drink”. She went to get off the couch, but Filip pushed her back down, and took the beer bottle from her hand. “You’ve had enough”, he said. “Get some sleep”. “No sleep ‘til Charming!”, Nina sang. “You’re in Charming", Tig said, having come over from the bar area. He snatched her pack of smokes from her, before she could get them from the coffee table, and held out a glass of water. Nina scrunched up her nose. “Fish pee in that”, she said. Tig sat down, and lifted the glass to her lips. “Don’t make me hold your nose”, he said. The water looked a little murky, but Nina accepted the glass, and drank it all, before throwing it into the air. Filip caught it mid-air, and rolled his eyes. “Buzz-kill”, Nina sneered.

She leaned back in her seat, before suddenly, her stomach began rumbling violently. Tig sprang for a trashcan, and held it in front of her; just in time for Nina to hurl a week's worth of alcohol and Happy’s scrambled eggs into it. “What was in that?”, Filip grunted. “Bit of charcoal”, Tig said. “Better than taking her to get her stomach pumped at St. Thomas’”. “I hate you…”, Nina heaved between two streams of vomit leaving her mouth. “I know, muffin. I love you too”, Tig smiled, and stroked her back.

After what seemed like hours, Nina finally had nothing left inside her to throw up, and she curled up on the couch. “Now I’m sober… thanks”, she said sarcastically. “Give me my cigarettes”. Filip went to get her bag, and dug out her toothbrush; handing it to her. “This is all you’re putting in your mouth for now”, he said. “Add toothpaste. You smell like death”. Nina disgruntledly took the toothbrush from him, and got on her feet to go to the bathroom; grabbing the toothpaste from her bag on the way.

Once she’d finished brushing her teeth, and splashed some cold water in her face, she went back into the bar area. “You’ve kept me here for days. I wanna go back to my apartment”, she said. “You can’t. Lyla’s using it as a set today”, Tig said. Nina groaned. “They’re gonna get porn-cum on my sheets”, she said. “Wouldn’t be the first time. What was that fella’s name again…? Kirk?”, Filip laughed, and went behind the bar to pour himself a scotch, and fill a mug of coffee. Happy and T.O. came up the stairs as they spoke. “I just remember him as; Please-god-no-I-swear-I’ll-never-talk-to-her-again-guy”, Tig said indifferently. “I think Opie took care of that one”. “Nah, that was Jax himself”, Happy said. “He’s teaching history in Milwaukee now”. “The history of his once functioning penis, I gather”, Filip muttered and looked at Nina, who’d sat down by a table. “Did he know you were 17?”. “I was 19!”, Nina sneered. “And his name was… Fuck, I can’t remember… Look, call Lyla, and then take me home!”.

Filip sat down across from her, and slid the coffee over the table. Nina took a welcome sip of it. “I don’t trust you on your own”, he said softly. “Is that why you won’t give me back my gun?”, she muttered. “You remind me too much of your brother at the moment”, he replied. Rage and sadness streamed through her body, and Nina got up; kicking her chair hard, making it fall to the floor. “Then give me a goddamn bike, and I’ll hit the road. There are trucks enough out there!”. She speed across the room, trying to reach the stairs; but T.O. got in her way, and grabbed her shoulders. He pushed her backwards into Happy’s arms. He picked her up like she weighed nothing more than a small child, and deposited her on the couch. He looked down at her with enraged eyes, tears forming in the corners of them. “Don’t ever say that again! Ever!”, he growled. Nina was shook, and suddenly her body began quaking. She sobbed quietly, and covered her eyes with her hands. Happy sat down next to her, and pulled her into his arms. “I’m sorry… I’m so sorry”, she whimpered. “I know, princess”. He rocked her back and forth, and kissed the top of her head.

Nina looked up, and was struck by each of the Sons’ expressions; ranging from sad, to angry, to pained. “I can’t stop fucking up… All I do is hurt people…”, she sobbed. Filip reached his hands out, and Happy released her to take them, and be pulled into the president’s embrace. “You are pure light, my love”, he said, before cupping her tear-streaked face in his hands. “Stop trying to snuff it out… I’m not talking about threatening to off yourself; we both know that will never happen, because we won’t allow it”. He pressed his forehead to hers. “You have to stop thinking of yourself like a failure not worthy of happiness. Stop killing that flame inside you”. “But I can’t be happy…”, Nina croaked. “If I try to be…”. She halted herself. She hadn’t told anyone of her deal with Danielle. “Tell me…”, Filip said. “I can’t”, Nina replied resolutely. “It’s… life or death”.

She pulled herself out of his grasp, and went for her cigarettes; which Tig had put on the top shelf behind the bar. He didn’t try to stop her. “Everything we do is life or death”, T.O. said. It was the first words he’d spoken since he’d arrived, but they were poignant. Nina lit her cigarette, and hesitantly met his eyes. “This is different”, she said. “If it was just… No”. She took a draw of her cigarette, picked up the chair from the floor, and sat down by the table again. “This is how it is now. I’m home, and I’ll try to… be better”.

They were interrupted by Quinn coming up the stairs. He looked around at the emotional faces in the room, and frowned. “Did you guys watch the Notebook again?”, he asked with a smirk. “Whatever; wrap it up. We got the in-laws incoming”. Nina frowned in confusion. “What’s going on?”, she asked. Filip gave her a half smile. “You wanted to go home; didn’t you…?”.

A roar of motorcycles sounded from outside, and Nina looked out of the window. A group of bikes came down the street, led by a brusque looking man on a roadking – handlebars high as the sky.

---

tag: @cole-winchester @doloreschanal

#angel reyes #angel reyes fic #angel reyes x oc #sons of anarchy #mayans mc #mayans mc fic #sons of anarchy fic #jax teller

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nalu4emily · 3 years

Text

The Unexpected Reward - Chapter 16

Summary: Natsu and Lucy go on a job together, but what they bring home is something neither anticipated. Forced to make a life changing decision, they have to adapt quickly, but that's never easy, especially given the circumstances. As they work together on their toughest adventure yet, they find themselves drawn to one another, in ways they never realised. Nalu/cute/fluff

Rated M for a reason!

"Hey, old lady! Open up!" The slayer bellowed through the tiny keyhole, beating the same spot on the large, ornate door repeatedly with his fist. "I know you're in there; I can smell you!"

"Go away, boy! I don't like visitors!" The occupant shouted from the other side, infuriating the dragon further.

He hammered his fist harder, determined to get some answers. There was no way he was turning back, not after running all this way. He'd kick the door in if he had to.

Haru, who was tucked into his arms, didn't seem to mind the small detour, or the loud clattering and yelling. He was perfectly content playing with anything he could get his hands on, namely Natsu's clothing. The occasional "Mama" or "Dada" would escape him but he mostly babbled nonsense to himself.

"At least you're having a good time. Daddy's starting to lose his patience." Natsu muttered the last bit under his breath, grinning at the child through his chagrin. He turned back to the door, "Look, I won't take up much of your time, I just need your advice. It's about Lucy…"

The door swung open with a rush and a thud, crashing into the very tree it was nailed to, causing leaves to fall from their branches. The noise had stunned Natsu into silence as he stared at the very person he'd come to see—Porlyusica. Dressed in her usual attire, she stepped out onto the porch and glowered at the young man, broom in hand, ready to chase him away.

Opening her mouth to scold him for the disruption, she caught sight of the little one he was carrying and closed it again, her hard lines softening. Instead of beating the slayer with her broom, which was the original plan, she held something out in her palm, expecting him to take it.

Eyeing it curiously, he took it from her hand and held it to his face, inspecting it further. It was a small, glass vile with a cork stopper lid, that contained a strange yellow liquid, its consistency was thick and it reminded Natsu, somewhat, of mashed up baby food—the kind Haru loved to eat.

"It's called morning sickness. Give her a few drops of that potion and it should quell its severity." She explained.

The boy accepted her potion and put it into his pocket for safe keeping, "Thanks! Lucy'll be glad of that. Only, it's not just her sickness that I'm-"

"I know why you're here. I could tell when I saw you all the other day, I'm just surprised it's taken you both this long to come knocking. So, where is she?" Porlyusica asked, looking behind Natsu for the blonde.

"At home actually. She… kinda doesn't know I'm here… but, I can't watch her suffer like that, I need to know what to do." Natsu pleaded, hoping the healer would help him.

She sighed, unable to refuse his request, "Has it been confirmed?"

"Not really… How do you do that?" Natsu asked, his knowledge on such things were limited.

"Get Lucy to test it, she'll understand. Then once it's confirmed, come back to me, I'll need to run some checks." She said, turning to go back inside.

"Checks? What checks?" There went his plan! Lucy would have to see her after all.

"You want a healthy child, don't you?" She said, as if it were obvious.

"U-Uh…"

The fire mage didn't get a chance to think too much into that before the door was slammed shut in his face, making him along with the baby jump.

The wind picked up a little as he turned to walk away, looking down at Haru, who was starting to snuggle down against his chest. Natsu smiled again at him, trying to mask his annoyance with the old woman's abruptness, "Sorry for making you wait, Haru, I bet you're super bored?"

"Dada…" The child yawned cutely on cue, making Natsu chuckle.

"Yeah, Dada's gonna take you home." He reiterated, turning to make tracks for home.

Natsu all but crashed through the front door, nearly breaking it off its hinges. "Luce? Lucy? Are ya home?" He yelled out into the house. Out of breath and panting, having just ran all the way back.

"Lucy?" He called out again, but with no answer still, he wondered where she could be, "Hmm… Let's go find Mama; she's around here somewhere."

"Mama…" The infant muttered, before going back to sucking on the ends of Natsu's scarf.

Once reaching the top of the stairs, he heard what he suspected might be the reason for Lucy's silence. A noise that'd become all too common over the last few days. Pushing the bathroom door open, he stood in the doorway, smiling sadly at the girl hunched over the toilet bowl once again. He felt nothing but empathy for her, the feeling of being overwhelmingly sick wasn't exactly foreign to him either, so he understood her pain.

The young man crouched down behind the blonde, cringing as she wretched her guts up. "It's alright, Luce. I'm here with you now." He spoke quietly, as not to alarm her of his presence. Placing Haru down next to him, he reached a hand out to her shoulder, the warm touch spreading over her clammy skin.

With one last cough and spit into the bowl, Lucy leaned back, breathing heavily while her watery eyes streamed down her face. She sniffled and blew her nose with a tissue, wiping her mouth at the same time. She took in a large breath and shifted to the man behind her, clutching hold of his jacket while she cried into his chest.

Enveloping her with his arms and cradling her head to him, he spoke tenderly to her, "Has it eased off now?"

"I-I don't know." Her voice was hoarse; her throat sore, "Please don't leave me again."

That struck a chord with Natsu. Never had he heard Lucy ask for him, not like that. She was always way too proud and independent, but this had really taken it's toll on her, not just physically but mentally also, making her feel vulnerable and it saddened him to see her so.

"I won't, Lucy, I promise." He said lowly into her ear, placing an affectionate peck just behind her lobe.

Nuzzling her head into the crook of his neck, she sniffled again, wrapping her arms tightly around his neck, "I don't want this, Natsu. I don't care what's causing it; I just want it gone."

Really her words shouldn't have affected him like they did, yet he still felt a sharp tug on his heart. She didn't know the reason behind her vomiting; how could she? He hadn't told her. And now with her so upset, he really didn't know how he was going to do that. Where did he even start?

He'd been so ready to just blurt it out, never considering how Lucy might react to it. In fact, if memory served him, she'd most likely freak until she combusted, or worse, began to cry. This subject had to be handled sensitively and with care, but the longer he left it, the longer he had to dwell on her reaction.

"I know, Luce. Are you sure you still want to wait for Wendy? Gramps told me she won't be back for a week at least." He explained, hoping she might change her mind about seeing the old dragon woman.

"I don't care who I see, as long as they can get rid of it." She said, finally pulling back and wiping her eyes with her sleeve, "I'm just so tired! It's been so long since I've had any real sleep and the puking just won't let up. My tummy hurts, my back aches and my ribs feel like they're being squashed, I have a constant headache and food-" She placed her hand over her mouth again, feeling that overwhelming nausea return. The mention of food, any food, was enough to set her off.

"Just try and take a deep breath, Luce, think of something else."

Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath through her nose and let it slowly out through her mouth, turning her attentions to Haru, "Sorry, little man, Mama didn't mean to ignore you, although you seem pretty content sucking on that scarf."

"He's been doing that all afternoon." Natsu answered for the baby, before switching back to Lucy, "Has the feeling gone now?"

"Not yet, it never really does. It just sits there until something triggers it." She explained, trying to breathe through the queasiness.

"That sucks… Oh, that reminds me, I have something for ya!" Remembering the little gift the old woman had given him, he started rummaging through his pockets, pulling out the item he was looking for and handed it to her, "Take it, Luce, it'll help with your, uh…" Wracking his brain for whatever Porlyusica had called it, "…Sickness." Was what he settled for.

Taking it into her hands she stared at it, frowning at the gross substance which could barely be called a liquid. "Um… Are you sure this is fit for human consumption?" She asked, hesitant to put it anywhere near her mouth. "And where'd it even come from?"

"Well, you know you said you didn't want to go to Porlyusica?" He blushed a little, putting his hand behind his head and grinned sheepishly, "I kinda did for ya and she gave me that. She said to take a few drops of it."

"Hmm… If you say so." She popped the cork lid open and let a few small globs dribble out into her mouth, pulling a disgusted face as it slid down her throat and stuck out her tongue. Little Haru found it hysterical and began laughing at his mother, his whole body jiggling up and down, "Well, I'm glad you're finding this funny, because that is repulsive!"

Natsu smiled, "You did look kinda funny, Luce. But at least it'll lessen your morning sickness now." That was it!

Eyes widening, Lucy snapped her head to Natsu, her amusement gone, "Morning sickness?!"

"Yeah, that's what she called it—which is dumb! It's more like all day and night sickness." He chuckled to himself, quickly falling silent when Lucy's expression didn't change at his little joke. He didn't understand; had he said something wrong? "What's up, Luce? I thought it might help."

"You… you think I'm pregnant?" She asked, eyes wide and mouth agape, her stare never leaving him.

Shit!

So morning sickness was a pregnancy thing? He wished he'd known that sooner!

Cursing himself again, he hadn't meant for her to find out like that and what's worse—she looked utterly horrified. Dammit! What was he supposed to do now? He couldn't lie to her; he wouldn't do that. With no other alternative, he did the only thing he could and sighed, nodding his answer and cringing at the sharp inhale he heard pass her lips.

Hoping she wasn't about to blow a fuse, he approached the stunned girl carefully, taking the vile out of her slack grasp and placed it back in his pocket before entwining their fingers together. Quirking one side of his lip into a half smile, he kept quiet and allowed her to process the information she obviously was not expecting.

His eyes dropped from her shocked face to her partially exposed stomach, catching her other hand instinctively come down to cradle it protectively, like an expectant mother would and it made the adrenaline course through his body.

"Pregnant… How did I not think of that?" She muttered under her breath, truly shocked that she hadn't once considered it a possibility. All the signs were there, everything pointed to it—shouted at it in fact, yet it was Natsu who'd realised it first. The boy that once thought humans laid eggs had figured it out before her? Something seemed fishy! "How come you knew? Who've you been speaking to?" Mortified to think that the whole guild knew before she even did.

"Gray, actually." He replied, shrugging, "And Porlyusica helped, obviously."

"Gray?! What does he know about having a baby? Doesn't he usually shy away from that kind of stuff?" She was astounded to find that it was the ice mage of all people. One of the girls from the guild was understandable or even someone like Gajeel who'd experienced it, but Gray?

"You think Juvia gives him a choice? She was crazy before, but now it seems she's on a whole other level." He sniggered a little, feeling kinda sorry for Gray, but kinda not. He'd made his bed and now he'd have to lay in it.

"Oh, so Juvia's pregnant too? How sweet, she's been desperate since… well, since forever!"

Natsu hummed in agreement, his attention focused more on Lucy's calm and collected demeanour, which honestly, he hadn't expected. She seemed happy by the prospect of growing their family, and that filled him with joy.

"Baby fever all 'round, it seems." Chuckling and tapping little Haru's head, the spirit wielder met the slayers eyes, smiling brightly at him with her hand still firmly placed on her lower belly, "I guess being so sick will be worth it, if it's for a baby."

"Our baby, Luce." Wiping the few stray tears away with his thumb, Natsu grinned at her, glad to see that gorgeous smile of hers split her cheeks, "Now we just gotta test it, right? Only, I don't know how you'd do that?"

"Hmm… I do, but… Oh wait! Cana!" She yelled, scrambling to her feet and nearly tripping on the bath mat. Luckily, Natsu was there for her to grab a hold of.

"What's this got to do with Cana?" He asked, confused—nothing good could ever come of her being involved.

"Her 'gifts'." The boy tilted his head; that made even less sense! "You know… ages ago, she pranked us with the condoms and a pregnancy test?" Lucy whispered to him, not wanting to say it out loud in front of Haru.

"Oh yeah! I wondered where they all went!" His eyes lit up when the memory returned to him.

"Please don't remind me…" Happy mumbled under his breath, a look of trauma on his face.

"Oh, hey Happy! I didn't hear ya come in!" Natsu greeted, waving at the exceed hovering in the doorway.

"Why're you guys looking for those things? You mean you're actually gonna use 'em?!" Nearly passing out at the thought, but shut his mouth quickly when he noticed Lucy glaring at him.

Returning to the task at hand, the blonde continued to search through the bathroom cupboards, "I put them away in here somewhere… Aha! Found it!" She cheered, holding and waving it in her hand to show Natsu.

"Awesome!" He cheered, "Now what?"

"Yeah, uh, you're gonna have to wait outside, and I'll let you know when I'm done." Pulling out the stick from its packaging, she crossed her arms and glared at the boy still standing there.

"Wait, what's happening?" The exceed asked, completely lost on their conversation.

"Why do I gotta wait outside? Can't I stay in here while you do it?" Natsu didn't want to be locked out again, it wasn't fair! He wanted to be in on the action!

She deadpanned, "Unless you want to watch me pee on a stick?" He was clueless.

"No, thank you!" Happy was gone in a flash, back down the stairs, no longer caring what they were talking about.

"So what, Luce?" The fire mage shrugged, "I've seen ya do worse."

"Just get out, Natsu, I'll call you back in when I'm done!" Lucy huffed, shooing the idiot out of the bathroom, ignoring his protests and shutting the door behind her.

Natsu exaggerated his huff, chuckling when Haru copied him, "Looks like we gotta wait out here, little guy. Are ya hungry?" The fire mage asked, taking them both down to the kitchen to retrieve some food.

Once returning to the bathroom door, food thoroughly shoved in their pie holes, they waited. When the door finally opened, revealing the girl with the stick in her hand, Natsu could barely contain himself; he wanted to know the results.

"So, what's it say? Are ya, Luce?" He asked, feeling like a kid at Christmas. Upon setting his own eyes on the girl, his face dropped instantly as he watched fresh tears build in her eyes. "Lucy?"

She wiped her snuffling nose and handed the stick to her partner, allowing him to look at the results. "Two lines means positive; one line means negative." Was all she said, using her sleeve to rub at her irritated eyes.

Peering down at the peculiar shaped object in his hand, he knitted his brows together. On the little screen, there was but a singular line—just one. He looked back up to Lucy, confusion still etched into his expression, "Negative?"

"It means, I'm not pregnant." Disappointment flowed out of her very pores; saying it out loud only reaffirmed it; a bitter truth escaping her lips. "Back to the drawing board, I guess. I'm sorry, Natsu, I know that wasn't what you wanted to hear."

Natsu remained silent, processing it all. It was definitely not the result he had been expecting, but it didn't seem to be bothering him as much as it should've. That niggle along with everything else that lead him to that conclusion, surely hadn't been wrong? He should've felt sad, a little disappointed, maybe? Or even a tad guilty for giving Lucy false hope—but he felt none of those things.

It was true that he didn't have well of medical knowledge like Porlyusica or some other doctor. He didn't read a load of books to get his information like Lucy or even Levy, and he certainly had no experience to pull from, and yet his gut still believed there was hope.

He placed the test down and pulled Lucy to him, enveloping her in his warmth to soothe her aching heart. With her nestled into his chest, he nuzzled his head into her hair, breathing in her scent, allowing it to relax him, when an idea struck.

Unexpectedly he pulled away from the sad blonde, passed her the baby and dropped to his knees, much to her embarrassment. He hugged her close, placing his nose on her lower belly and inhaled deeply, ignoring her flustered rants about 'reading the mood'. After several awkward minutes of her whining and his determination to be proven right, he smiled and let go.

"Natsu, you can't just sniff people like that! What were you doing?! I'm not in the mood for jokes." She sighed, watching him hop to his feet.

"Lucy, I think the test is lying."

Perking her head up to meet his eyes, with brows knitted together, she spoke, "Huh? Tests don't lie, Natsu! Don't be so ridiculous! I know it's hard to hear, but we're not having a baby."

"We'll see about that!" He grinned and hoisted her up, carrying her bridal style down the stairs with Haru perched neatly in her lap, ignoring her yells to be put down.

"Right Haru, let's go get some answers! You coming, Happy?" Natsu's usual electric enthusiasm shone brightly through his grin.

"Yeah! Where are we going?" Happy asked, hovering above the slayer's head.

He winked at the Exceed, then proceeded to kick the front door open and walked out into the front garden. "You ready, Luce?" His grin turning mischievous.

"Natsu, put me down! I don't even have any shoes on! Where the heck are we going?!" She screeched into his ear, making him wince, but smile all the same.

"You don't need shoes when I'm carrying you! Hold on tight guys, we're off to see the old dragon woman in the woods. She'll be able to tell us." He said, sprinting off down the path towards their destination, with Happy flying behind.

Eventually, Lucy gave up her struggle. She wasn't going to win; she never did once he'd set his mind on something. That was usually how all of their adventures started off, him dragging her off somewhere new and exciting. Although, she couldn't say going to see the old woman was new or particularly exciting, but if Natsu thought it was the right thing to do, even if the result remained the same, then she had no choice but to tag along.

Finally nearing the tree, Natsu could see from a distance that the door was open, meaning said woman was out and about, probably collecting ingredients for her next potion.

"So you've returned." They heard the gruff voice from behind, swivelling their heads to meet Porlyusica as she walked over to them. "And you've brought the whole cavalry… Well, don't just stand there gawking, in you go!" Natsu quickly made it into the tree, not wanting to be on the receiving end of the cranky woman with a broom. "And put Lucy down, a pregnant woman is more than capable of walking, boy!"

Lucy all but jumped to her feet, mortified and embarrassed by the whole situation and turned to the healer, "That's the thing though, I'm not pregnant, but Natsu insisted on dragging us out here. We're sorry for wasting your time." The flustered blonde seemed a little too eager to leave and tried to make a break for the door; however; the fire breather's quick reflexes caught her wrist before she could reach the door handle.

"Luce, I told you already: the test was lying!" He repeated, eyes pleading with her just to wait and see what the healer might say.

She sighed; feeling a little frustrated by it all, "Tests don't lie, Natsu. I'm not pregnant and that's all there is to it. I'll just have to muddle through whatever this sickness is until it goes away."

"It came out negative, I assume?" Porlyusica intervened, focusing on the blonde huddling close to the door. "Natsu is right, tests can give false negative readings, especially if it's old or hasn't been used properly." The pink haired woman walked closer to the girl, looking her up and down. "I thought that you might be when I saw you last and I'm rarely wrong."

Lucy hadn't expected the woman to actually agree with Natsu. She hadn't thought that there could be something wrong with the test, but then again, it was from Cana and god knows where she'd got it from. She perked her head up a little and was almost reluctant to look at the dragon slayers expression, knowing the smugness of being right would be written all over his face.

"Ha! See, I knew it! There's still a chance, Lucy!" Natsu shone his vibrant, toothy grin at the blonde girl. She could see the hope in his eyes; he really wanted this; to be a father again and her heart all but melted.

"I have other, more thorough ways of testing, if you'd let me?" Porlyusica asked the celestial mage, bringing her back to the present.

Apprehensively, Lucy nodded her head and went to sit on the bed by the window to await further instructions. She was so nervous, hoping for some positive answers, that would prove the test was false. She wasn't sure her heart could take the disappointment a second time, especially if it included Natsu's this time.

"There are a few different ways I can confirm a pregnancy, blood tests and so forth, but the most efficient way is a scan of the area." She said, gathering the instruments she needed whilst awaiting Lucy's approval. "I use a lacrima and it shows an image of your womb."

"O-Okay." Lucy replied, uncertain of what she'd just agreed to.

She laid back on the bed and pulled her top up, revealing her stomach. Taking a deep breath, the celestial mage twisted her head to Natsu, who had knelt down beside her. Her nerves were rattling within her body and was looking for a little reassurance, something to take the edge off of her apprehension.

He smiled at her tenderly and reached out for her hand to hold tight, not entirely convinced it was to ease just her anxiety as opposed to his own. They were about to find out whether or not their own little creation had taken residence in Lucy's womb, and he couldn't describe what an incredibly surreal feeling that was.

Porlyusica first needed to locate where the lacrima should be placed. Using one hand, she pressed firmly just above Lucy's pelvis, then several times around the area. Still tender and overly sensitive, Lucy tried her hardest not to show the discomfort it was causing. It rippled up into her throat, making her feel sick again, only this time she had no choice but to hold it back.

The wincing and quiet gasps didn't go unnoticed by the dragon slayer. He'd been watching the healer like a hawk, making sure nothing hurt Lucy too much. He leant over, understanding how unpleasant it must be and kissed her temple, whilst running his fingers smoothly through her blonde tresses.

The lacrima was a simple looking flat, green crystal that the older woman laid onto the stellar mages bare skin and waited for the image to appear. With a few flashes of light, a picture was formed like a projection hovering just above the lacrima.

"What the heck is that?! It looks like you swallowed a ball!" Happy couldn't take his eyes off of the image.

"That's so cool! I'm totally looking at your insides, Luce!" The fire breather enthused, unable to take his eyes off of the image.

Lucy rolled her eyes at the pair; typical Natsu and Happy, "You're both such idiots…"

"When you're done bickering, I'll explain what you're looking at." Porlyusica cut in. She pointed to the big black oval shape on the projection, that Happy kindly pointed out, and looked at the pair, making sure they were paying attention. "This is the outline of your uterus, Lucy. And from what I can see, it looks perfectly normal and healthy."

"Oh okay, that's good then." She pointed to a smaller, light coloured ball at the bottom of the black oval and knitted her brows together. "So, what's that?"

Moving the lacrima crystal slightly, the healer repositioned it to get a closer look at the small ball and both mages eyes near bulged out of their sockets. Their mouths dropped open and breath hitched simultaneously as the image took on a more human shape, its arms and legs moving rapidly.

"Oh my… Is that…?" Lucy had never seen anything like it, her mouth had gone completely dry and she felt the butterflies in her tummy cause her to quiver, she was in awe.

"Look at what we did, Lucy…" Natsu murmured after a few shocked, silent moments, catching the girl's attention. His eyes were glued to the image, watching it kick out with it's tiny little developing legs and feet. "It's an active little thing…"

"It's a baby, Natsu…" The celestial mages eyes glazed over, unable to control the flood of emotions that entered her system.

For the first time, the fire breather peeled his sights away from the projection and looked to his partner. His own tears peaked at the corners, feeling so overwhelmingly happy to be able to share this with her.

"Mm… it sure is, Luce." His voice sounded airy, sleepy almost, like his body had simply relaxed. His brilliant smile beamed at the blonde, making her heart skip a beat as she turned to face him fully, the sound of their little one's heart beat filling their ears.

"Look Haru, you're gonna have a little brother or sister." Lucy said as Natsu held him up to see, pointing at the even tinier one wriggling around on the projection. "It's a little one, just like you!"

Porlyusica turned the crystal once more, allowing them to see the baby from a different angle, "As you can see, Lucy, you are pregnant and by the looks of it, I'd say you have been for about ten weeks now."

"Ten weeks?! Surely that's not right; I would have noticed long before now!" Lucy was stunned to learn she was that far along already. The symptoms had only just started and she'd menstruated within that time—hadn't she?

"Not necessarily, pregnancy doesn't follow a certain set of rules. When Juvia came to see me regarding the same thing, she'd been suffering with symptoms from around the six week mark. Levy, on the other hand, had no symptoms and she was carrying twins. Some women experience symptoms just at the beginning while others, all the way through. Some later and some sooner, and some none at all."

"Oh… I didn't know. So, what happens now?" Lucy asked, feeling a little bit of disappointment when the healer deactivated the lacrima and removed it from her belly—she could've easily watched it all day.

"Yeah, when will it be born? Is it a long wait?" Natsu butted in, moving to sit next to the girl on the bed.

"And I thought Gray was clueless… A pregnancy takes nine months or approximately forty weeks, meaning Lucy has about thirty weeks left to go."

"That long? But that's ages away!" Natsu whined, turning into a child himself.

"Yeah, why can't it be born now?" Happy joined in, wanting to meet the little one already.

"Quiet, boys, before I kick you out!" She threatened, returning her attentions to the blonde, "Look after yourself, Lucy. A stressed mother is a stressed baby, but so far everything is looking as it should." The woman returned her equipment to their places and snapped her head to the little family still sitting there, "What're you both still doing here? Get out!"

"Yes, ma'am!" Natsu and Lucy jumped to their feet at lightning speed and ran out of the door, making sure they were out of sight of the old woman before slowing to a halt.

"Ugh! Now my feet are all dirty!" Lucy groaned, lifting her bare feet up one by one to inspect them, grimacing at all of the mud now coating them. "This is your fault- Mmph!"

A pair of warm, smooth lips silenced her, pressing urgently to her mouth, his hot breath sending shivers down her spine. With him taking the lead, Lucy relaxed into it and enjoyed the feel of his mouth on hers, their tongues interloping, causing butterflies to re-enter her stomach.

Pulling apart, but barely, he stared at her angelic features and couldn't help but smile at the beautiful girl before him. Thanks to her, he was going to be a father again. A father not to just one, but two precious babies and he felt like the luckiest man in the world.

"I love you, Lucy." He grinned, the biggest, widest grin she'd ever seen, so enormous it was almost too much for his face. But it was still heart meltingly cute and to hear him say those words again was enough to turn her into a puddle. It wasn't something he said very often, but she was fine with that. It made times like this all the more special.

"I love you too, Natsu." She could see just how happy he was, his very soul glowing like the fire he wielded. "So, are you going to tell me how you knew?"

He quirked his brow, "Knew what?"

"That the test was wrong." She said, her eyes flickering between his.

"Oh… I, uh, sorta had a feeling, I guess. And I was sure I could smell something." He shrugged, about to lean in for another kiss.

"You could… smell something?" Horrified she pulled her face back; did she smell?!

"Yeah, another scent. I've been able to smell it since I came home the other day, but didn't know what it was until now." The boy explained, bringing her head back to him.

"You can smell the baby?" Lucy's eyes widened in fascination.

"Sure. It's real faint, but if I try hard enough, it's there."

"Wow! That's incredible!" She looked down at herself again and cradled her belly, right where the lacrima had been and pictured their perfect little baby safe and sound in there. "I'm so happy, Natsu."

"Me too, Lucy." Natsu chuckled and finally managed to pull her back in for a loving and tender kiss, relaying all of his own happiness to her in one fluid motion. His hand came up to rest on top of hers, caressing the soft skin of her belly, imagining just how beautiful she was going to look in the months to come, carrying his child.

But their passion was swiftly halted when a certain little fella stopped them in their tracks, placing a hand to where their lips joined and made a cute babble sound, as if he were trying to work out what they were doing. Chuckling, they both turned to Haru, who was still looking at them curiously.

"You two are just nasty!" Happy said, placing himself down on the floor. "Not only do you eat each other, but you're now doing it in front of Haru!"

"We don't eat each other, I have no idea what you're talking about!" Lucy defended, shaking her head.

"Yeah you do and other… more explicit things!" Happy shivered at the thought, "Otherwise you wouldn't be in this situation."

"What situation is that then?" Lucy asked, defiance lacing her voice.

"He means the baby, Luce, even I understood that one!" Natsu piped in.

"Really?!" She exclaimed sarcastically, "Ugh! You guys are infuriating! With any luck, this baby will be a girl, then I won't feel so outnumbered!" She huffed, crossing her arms.

"And she'll still end up like Natsu, and you know it!"

Lucy's expression deflated, her arms sinking to her sides ans sighed "You're right…"

"Anyway, with another mouth to feed, you might wanna reconsider that job, Natsu!" The exceed mentioned, not noticing the dragon slayer shoot daggers at him.

"Oh… What job is that then?" The blonde asked, curiously. She didn't remember Natsu mentioning anything about a job.

"It's nothing really, Luce." Natsu shrugged, playing it down.

"You should have seen the reward! I've never seen that many zero's in a number!" Happy chirped, only now noticing the look his friend was giving him, telling him silently to shut up.

"Natsu, what's up? How come you never said anything?" Lucy asked, placing her hand on his shoulder.

"It's not that big of a deal. Gramps gave me a request yesterday, but I turned it down, that's all." He explained, seeming a little dismissive but otherwise normal. "Why don't we get ya home? It'll be dinner time soon." Seeing the reluctance in Lucy's face to believe him, he sighed and smiled at her, not ready to have that conversation just yet.

Suddenly her feet were whipped out from under her and she and Haru found themselves in the air, with two strong arms holding them up, "Natsu!"

"What? Can't have Mama all pooped out now can we, Haru?" Natsu laughed along with the infant, grinning widely, "'Cause she's still gotta cook us dinner!" He smirked at the young woman in his arms, who's eyes snapped at to him, glaring at his handsome face.

"Hey! How come I gotta slave away in the kitchen?! I'm pregnant now, you should be making me dinner!" She retorted, huffing and turning her head to the side.

"I don't mind cooking, it's whether you mind having a kitchen or not?"

"On second thought, stay out of the kitchen, you're too much of a fire hazard. But you owe me a foot rub, after all, this is your doing!" She smirked back at him.

"Oh… I never remember you complaining, maybe I'll have to get you to jolt my memory later." He chuckled lowly back, rising to the challenge.

"That's it! You two are disgusting! I'm taking Haru and you can both find somewhere else to do your dirty stuff tonight." Happy whizzed down to snatch the giggling baby from Lucy and speedily zoomed off into the distance, leaving the other two behind.

"Hey! That's no fair! You got a head start!" Not willing to be beaten by a flying cat and a baby, Natsu hurtled himself and Lucy in the same direction, her screams of terror echoing throughout the forest.

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wendip-week · 3 years

Text

Prompt: Time-Travel

Prompt – Time Travel

It was another fine day in Gravity Falls. Squirrels were chasing each other, baby birds were chirping for food, and the local citizens went about their business, blissfully unaware of the rumored-weirdness that surrounded the valley.

In the town’s tourist-trap, the Mystery Shack, two young workers were sitting behind the register, looking bored. One was a short, scrawny pre-teen with shaggy, brown hair covered by a cap featuring a pine-tree. The other was a tall, lanky redheaded girl in flannel and sporting a trapper-hat. They were the best of friends (or partners-in-crime, depending on who you ask); and at that moment, they’d rather have been anywhere else.

“Ugh! Dipper! Why’s your uncle making us sit here? This place is half-dead! We’ve had, what? Sixteen customers all day, and maybe three of them wanted to buy something?” the girl said, laying across the counter.

“Yeah. Well, it’s Stan, Wendy. ‘Any potential sucker is basically a customer, and customers have money, so don’t miss an opportunity to get some!’”

“Nice one. But seriously, dude, I wish we could go on some adventure. Heck, I’ll take anything: scary or cheesy,” the girl said confidently.

“Really?” Dipper replied, looking at her. “You’d stoop to something out of our B-movie collection?”

Wendy paused, clearly giving this some thought. “Well…”

“The Crawling Deer-Demon-Duck is hiding in that condemned-house, Cassandara!” Dipper said in a low-baritone, his face pouting with mock-bravery. “What kind of brave seventeen-year-old slight bad-boy would I be if I didn’t go in there alone to try and stop it?”

Accepting his challenge, Wendy stood up. “Oh, Drewson! You can’t! It’s too dangerous!” she replied, adopting a terrible accent of a Southern-belle. She put the back-end of her hand on her forehead dramatically, while using her other to grab his sleeve. “I won’t let you go into that condemned house where the Deer-Demon-Duck is hiding!”

Dipper gently moved her hand away and faced her more directly. “But you have to let me!”

“Oh, Drewson!!!” Wendy lamented, now looking Dipper in the eyes.

“Cassandara…” Dipper did the same…

The two’s faces came closer and closer…

Meanwhile, from two different ends of the Shack, a couple of thirteen-year-olds watched with interest. One, a fit-looking, freckle-faced girl with brown hair, stared with wide-eyes; she had her hands over her mouth as she barely suppressed a squeal. It was just too cute and hilarious! The other was a bulky young-man with copper hair. He just rolled his eyes and shook his head, chuckling.

Wendy and Dipper’s faces were now inches from one another; neither breaking the act. Just as it seemed they were about make contact…

*FLASH!*

“Bwaaaahhh!!!” cried out a voice of pure-chaos.

…A white flash of light and a subsequent familiar-sounding snap caught them off-guard (and momentarily blinded the duo).

“Hey!” Dipper shouted.

“What the heck?!” Wendy replied, blinking to get her sight back.

“You guys! That was adorable!” Mabel, Dipper’s twin who sported braces, a homemade sweater, and thick, long brown cried out.

“Mabel?” said Wendy. “How long have you been there?”

“Long enough to hear all that!” the energetic girl told her friend while holding a photo-camera.

“W-We were imitating a scene from one of our movies!” Dipper replied quickly, his face suddenly a deep-red.

“Tomato-Potato! A smooch-scene’s a smooch-scene! Look!” Mabel told them, holding up an instant-photo. Looking closer, it featured Dipper and Wendy, inches apart and puckered up. “And I thought your only chest-hair was scrapbook-material, Dip!”

“Mabel, you better throw that away!” Dipper told his sister, while Wendy just shook her head, a hand covering her eyes.

“Nope! Scrapbook-ortunity!” Mabel opened her scrapbook and, finding a spot that was (relatively) empty, put the photo in. “Boom! Now, I just need some glue! Be right back!”

Mabel ran into the house to look around, leaving her brother and friend alone and little embarrassed.

Dipper looked at his redheaded crush. “Sorry, Wendy. She didn’t need to do that.”

“It’s whatever, dork. I mean, we were kind of cutting it close. That’s what happens when you play chicken.”

“Yeah… I’m gonna destroy it before she gets back,” Dipper said, reaching out for the scrapbook.

“No, don’t!” Wendy replied, putting her hand on his shoulder.

“Wendy, you know she’ll show people. What’ll our friends think? I don’t want you to get embarrassed,” the younger Mystery-Twin said to the redhead.

“Thanks, but if everyone starts laughing, we can just say we’re great actors. After all, I’d pick you over the lead in that cheesy-film any day,” Wendy reassured Dipper, a gentle smile on her face.

Not knowing what to say, the blushing twelve-year-old just awkwardly chuckled.

“Hey!” shouted a gravelly-voice from inside the house. “Can somebody help me with this pimple on my back! I don’t need it bothering me on my next tour!”

Wendy turned to look at her dork, looking a little nonplussed. “…We should probably run before Stan singles us out.”

“To the roof, you think?” Dipper asked.

“Nah, I’m starved. Let’s hit Greasy’s. There’s a great lunch-special if we hurry.”

The nigh-inseparable duo quietly rushed off, leaving the gift-shop completely unattended. With that, the two customers slowly approached the counter, awkwardly looking around.

“Well, that was adorable and weird,” the girl told the boy around her age.

The large boy shrugged. “Definitely right on the latter.” He turned to face the girl. “How has your day been progressing?”

“Uh, fine I guess?” she replied, not used to hearing a greeting in such context. “How about yours?”

“Can’t complain. So… the gift-shop’s abandoned, it looks like,” the boy said, looking around.

“I guess so. Someone could steal something from here and no one would notice.”

“True. Looks like the rumors of this place sparing every expense were true,” the boy said with a chuckle. “Are you planning on stealing something?”

“No! Of course not!” the girl replied with a huff. As the boy looked away, she discreetly took a glance at the scrapbook left behind.

“Well, that’s good. Lots of punk-teens wouldn’t think twice about robbing this place blind,” he told her.

“Fair point,” The girl replied. She reached a small hand out. “I’m May, by the way.”

The other teen answered by clasping it with a meaty-looking hand of his own. “Cool. That’s my sister’s name. I’m Danny.”

For a second, the girl called May’s eyes widened, before narrowing suspiciously. Danny suddenly realized she wasn’t letting go of his hand.

“No, it isn’t,” she replied curtly. “My brother’s Danny!”

As she said that, the other teen frowned before his eyes mirrored the girl. They stared momentarily before pouncing. May attempted to pull “Danny” toward her. Danny, however, was ready. He spun and pulled the hand still clasping his behind the girl’s back. With her momentarily caught off-guard, he pushed her into one of the aisles. He quickly snatched the scrapbook from the counter before racing out the door. May, after stopping herself from hitting a wall, turned to see no scrapbook near the register. She immediately rushed outside to find the boy.

Behind the Mystery Shack, Danny was going rummaging the somewhat sticky-pages of the book he snatched, careful not let anything besides some glitter fall out from between. Finally, his eyes settled on his objective. He was just about to take it when-

“Hey, you!” Danny turned towards an angry-looking May, her fist punching her other palm. “That’s stealing! I don’t know who you are, but I’m not letting you have that!” she shouted.

“Please!” he replied. “As if you weren’t planning on it. I’m smarter than I look, you know!” he accused the girl, who gritted her teeth at his comeback. “And for your information, I’m me! And you’re not you!”

With that, the two of them raced towards each other. This time, however, May slid between the large boy’s legs and got behind him. Before he could react, she grabbed him underneath his shoulders. With him successfully in a headlock, May reached for the book in the redheaded boy’s hand. Realizing what she was trying to do, Danny swung back-and-forth, trying to make May let go of him.

Caught off-guard, the strong girl actually lost her grip on one of his arms for a minute, though she quickly regained it by getting her arm around his neck. However, this wasn’t enough. He reached behind, and this time, he got ahold of May’s shirt, enabling him to throw her off, despite her attempts to hold onto his head. (She even grabbed and stretched his mouth in the process).

She landed with a thud but was quick to get back on her feet. And May was immediately shocked by the sight before her. Next to this guy’s feet was the scrapbook of Mabel, apparently dropped when she made him throw her off. But on the other side of “Danny” laid what looked like a rubber-mask of his face. The head on his body now sported something else: a head that she could only describe as resembling an oversized pistachio, but with red-eyes and sharp teeth.

The creature posing as a human, realizing he was exposed, quickly grabbed his mask and slipped it back on with a growl. Now indiscernible from a human, he wagged what May assumed was a false finger, clearly ticked by that. He charged at her, only for her to roll out of the way. She tried a roundhouse-kick, only for the disguised teen to catch her foot. When May tried to break out, she lost her balance, enabling Danny to catch her from behind the same way she had him.

However, May was ready this time. As this guy grabbed her underneath her shoulders, May somersaulted backwards and caught Danny’s neck with her shoes. With all of her might, she used her legs to throw Danny forward, headfirst! He landed with a loud thud, giving May time to grab the book and escape.

Danny, checking to make sure his mask was straight, raced to catch up to May. He went around the side and rushing in the general direction she ran, saw her carefully moving around a large hole not too far from the Mystery Shack. Taking off a hand-shaped glove, he launched a vine-like appendage and grabbed May’s leg, tripping her and pulling her back. At the same time, she dropped the book near the edge of the long drop. Danny rushed forward and picked it up.

Of course, by this time, May was back on her feet. She charged with all he had and slammed her shoulder into the creature’s costumed-midsection, making him drop the book again. “OW!” They both shouted after May made contact.

Danny rubbed the spot where he got rammed with one hand and pushed her back with his other. He then looked at the pained girl strangely. “That was… You tackle just like May does; only weaker. Who are-? Hey, you okay?”

“Do I look okay?” May was clutching her shoulder, and as the boy could see more plainly, it didn’t look quite right.

“You’re hurt.” Before Danny could say more, the edge of the hole he was standing by gave way. He fell and, because he was still holding onto May, ended up pulling her in, too.

They both fell, screaming all the way down, only realize that they didn’t seem to be getting there anytime soon.

“Wait… I know what this is! We’re in the Bottomless Pit!” May said in realization.

“Oh, yeah! Haven’t seen the inside of this I was five…” Danny thought out loud.

“So you say!” May snapped. “Stop pretending already and tell me what the heck you are! Running into you is like crashing into a tree-trunk! What the heck?!”

Danny paused. “Okay, seeing as you look like you’re hurting, and I’m not, I’m going to call a truce. I’m willing to talk if you are, but I’d rather check your arm first. Is that cool with you?”

“Fine,” May grumbled, seeing no options at the moment. She was at a disadvantage, and if this monster could reach her, she’d be in trouble.

“Alright. Now, stay calm and try not to freak out.” Danny took a hand-shaped glove off and from where it was, slowly extended a vine in May’s direction. It gently went around the teenager’s midriff and pulled her towards him. It was plain to see she was suspicious. “Let me see…” Using his other hand, he poked May’s shoulder.

“Augh!” she grunted.

“Yeah… Looks like you dislocated your shoulder,” Danny assessed with a shudder. “You meatbags and your weird bodies.”

“MEATBAGS?! Look who’s talking!”

“Hey, it is basically what you are. You’re like, mostly water, aren’t you?”

“Well, yeah…” May admitted awkwardly. “But that’s still rude.”

“Right. Sorry,” he apologized sheepishly. “Look, we can’t do anything until we come back up, so we might well as chat and find what the heck is going on here; maybe why you want that scrapbook so much.”

“You took it first,” May replied. “What about you? Also, would you mind letting go of me?”

“Can do.” Danny retracted his vine, allowing May to freefall on her own, then slipped his glove back on over his branch-like hand.

“Okay, so… who the heck are you? I’ve lived in Gravity Falls all of my life; I know that names being alike isn’t some coincidence.” May said.

“Agreed. I’m Danny Pines,” said the strange-teen. “And I’m assuming you’re May Pines.”

“Yeah. May Pines: daughter of Mason and Wendy Pines,” May stated proudly.

“Those are my parents’ names,” Danny replied, an eyebrow raised.

“Weird. My brother’s human, and he doesn’t look much like whatever that costume is you’re wearing. Are you being honest that you’re who you say you are?”

“Yes, I am,” Danny replied, starting to sound annoyed. “Look, I’m a plant-person, okay? So is most of the family, along with the half-the-town where I’m from. We wear disguises to blend in with humans… And what’s wrong with the way I look?”

“Well, for starters, my Danny’s not built like you. He’s muscular, but like the lean-kind. And he’s tall. You kind of have a build like my uncles on Mom’s side of the family. Plus, your face kind of looks like Aunt Mabel’s. He’s got more of one that looks kind of like Grandpa Dan,” May said thoughtfully.

“Huh. Go figure. I never actually wondered if my disguise was accurate… As for my height, I can safely tell you I’m taller than I look. I basically slouch in this costume,” Danny told her. “And my May’s costume doesn’t have you so good, either.”

“Really? Why?” May asked.

“Well, her mask has red-hair and no freckles. And your nose definitely isn��t Mom’s.”

“Oh. I always wondered how I’d look with red hair…” May thought out loud. “Uh, so… why the heck were you trying to take that book?”

“Why do you need it?”

May sighed in resignation. “Look, I’m looking for an anniversary-present for Mom and Dad. I remember Aunt Mabel told me about some cute picture in her scrapbook that went missing. It was that little scene with Mom and Dad from a little earlier. Apparently, it disappeared. It’d be a good gift, and I thought maybe it was me taking it after Blendin Blandin loaned me his Time-Tape that caused it disappear. Now, I’m wondering if it vanishes because you steal it.”

“What a coincidence. I was planning on getting that as an anniversary present for them, too. Well, my version of Mom and Dad.”

“Yeah… How’s that work again? I’m already assuming this is probably one of those Other-Dimension/Universe deals. Or maybe even another timeline,” asked May

“Really? How would that last one work? New timelines always replace old ones, right?” Danny replied.

“I don’t know. I don’t do this for a liv-Oh! We’re coming back up!”

About a minute later, the two thirteen-year-olds found themselves back outside the Bottomless Pit, not a minute gone by since they fell in. Immediately, they stepped away, quick to attend to more important matters. Well, besides the picture in Mabel’s scrapbook, anyway. (Danny quickly picked that up).

“Alright,” Danny said after making sure no one was around. “I’m not an expert, but I’ve been taught the basics of human-skeletons. We’ve gotta fix that arm.”

“Right. Uh, one sec.” May used her good arm to pull a coin-purse out of her pocket. From there, she pulled out a piece of wood with some bite-marks and stuck it in her mouth. “Do your worst.”

Danny put one hand on her forearm; the other on her shoulder. “This is gonna hurt. I’m going to count to five. Got it?” May nodded, and Danny counted. “One… Two… Five.”

A shrill, girly scream echoed through the valley. A scream rivaled only by those who were unfortunate enough to stick an appendage into the infamous “Pain Hole”.

“You okay?” Danny asked, concerned.

“Yeah,” May grunted, rolling her shoulder a couple of times. “This actually happens more often than you think. I’ll be fine in a couple of days.

“Well, I guess that’s one thing you humans have over us,” the boy said, shaking his head. “Your broken limbs don’t have to stay broken. We need to regrow ours. It’s pretty rough.”

“I guess… So, is your time like that lizard-people timeline or something? Dad and Aunt Mabel said something like that happened or was talked about when they were hunting for treasure one time.”

“I don’t remember either of them talking about that,” Danny said, shrugging. “All I know is that my version of Mom and Dad were turned into plants outside of Gravity Falls, and that there was time-travel involved. Come to think of it, I wonder if maybe Time-Wishes have something to do with this.”

May raised an eyebrow. “I don’t follow.”

“They’re paradox-free, but what if they don’t line up with the future. And they can’t be part of a time-loop, either. That’s another paradox. But splitting timelines might make for a good technicality, especially if they lead to the same futures or something.”

“…You read a lot of science-fiction, don’t you?” May deadpanned.

Danny shrugged. “When I’m camping. Yeah.”

“So… you think maybe we come from different branches and that this is a shared-moment in the past?”

“In a nutshell. No pun intended.”

May shrugged. “Anything’s possible. So, how are things in your timeline? Is the Shack still standing?”

“Yeah. Uncle Soos is doing a great job with it.”

“Nice! Does Arctica exist in in that time? Do you like-like her?” May asked in a sly voice.

“N-No! I mean, uh, yes… and no!” Danny replied quickly.

“Oh my gosh! I knew it!” May said, almost squealing. “Everyone knows! Me, our parents, our friends! Aunt Pacifica sure approves! So does-!”

“Wait! Pacifica… She’s alive in your time?” Danny asked, looking a bit shocked.

“Yeah. Is she not…? Oh, man! What happened?” May replied, looking very concerned.

“She just got sick. Last year, I think. That kind of thing’s one drawback to being human, I guess. Still, everyone was there, so I think she was comfortable, at least,” Danny told his sister from what might be an alternate-timeline.

“Shoot…” May thought out loud.

“Sorry to bring the mood down. So, does Chaz still try to keep his distance from you and your cooties?”

“As if! He’s just intimidated by my tackle!”

“Sure… No doubt that’s why he and Drake Jr. tried to discover a vaccine for them,” Danny said with a chuckle. “Dad thinks they might be onto rediscovering the Philosopher’s Stone instead.”

“So, Aunt Mabel married Uncle Drake in your timeline, too?”

“Yep.”

“Great… Two versions of our uncle to pass on his terrible driving skills two different versions of our cousin,” May said in exasperation.

“Don’t forget our siblings…” Danny added.

“Siblings? What siblings?” May asked.

“…You’re kidding, right?”

“No. Seriously, we have them? What are they like?” May said with interest. “Younger? Older?”

“All of the above. Dang. I wish I had my special phone-glove so I could show you pics. Too bad I didn’t want to accidentally leave it.”

“Shoot! Lucky!”

Danny laughed. “Keep telling yourself that.”

May smiled, then looked at her aunt’s scrapbook. “That photo’s still in there.”

Danny rummaged through it and found the page with said photo. The siblings from different timelines both stared, admiring the young versions of their parents doing that corny, mock-romance scene.

“What do you wanna do?” Danny asked her.

“I don’t know… I want it, but you’ve got as much right to snatch it as I do,” May replied. “I wish we both could take it with us.”

“You know, maybe we can,” Danny said after a minute.

“Huh? What do you mean?”

“Doesn’t the Shack have a magic photocopy-machine in this time?”

“…And Mom and Dad are gone, so we might be able to pull this off!”

Meanwhile, Mabel was in her and Dipper’s room in the attic, which had basically been torn apart in a futile-search.

“Come on, Mabel!” The sweater-loving preteen said to herself. “Where’d you put that extra glue?”

The Mystery Twins of different timelines slipped through the currently-unguarded gift-shop of the Mystery Shack with ease, only to run into an elderly, bespectacled man in a fez, faded-white tee-shirt, and boxers in the living room, who was sitting on the couch, watching tv. The man turned to face them.

“Hey!” he said gruffly. “No exploring the house unless I’m leading a tour! Back to the gift-shop with you.”

Danny approached him, a hand behind his back. “No. Back to sleep with you.” Danny brought his concealed hand out from behind him, a large flower blooming from his wooden hand. He blew what looked like pollen into the old man’s face. The man was out in an instant, drooling all over himself.

May took the tv remote and flipped through a couple of channels. When she was satisfied, she abandoned the remote and joined Danny, though not before laying a soft kiss on the scary-looking man’s temple.

“Love you, Great-Grunkle Stan,” May whispered. She turned back to rubber-suited variation of her brother. “Let’s go.”

The two kids wandered down the hall towards the back, where they found a beaten, worn-out copy machine with words like “Danger” and other warnings on and around it.

“So… if I remember correctly, Dad said this’ll clone whatever you put into it,” May said. “It’s how Great Grunkle Stan made copies of the Journals that triangle-dude ruined.”

“Right,” Danny replied. “Seems straightforward. I think I’ll make two. This way, we don’t have to steal anything.”

“Sounds good. Let’s just remember not to get either wet.” May stepped out to check the living room.

Meanwhile, a heavy-set young man in a cap and a shirt with a big question-mark stepped into the living-room. “Hey, Mr. Pines. I just finished fixing-Oh, cool! You’ve got anime on!”

Soos Ramirez sat down on the couch, his gaze focused entirely on the tv-screen. He didn’t notice the teenage-girl peering around the corner, nor the bright and completely-noticeable flash from down the hall. He also didn’t notice two teens step back into the gift-shop, the boy holding three identical-copies of what looked like Mabel’s scrapbook.

In the Mystery Shack’s gift shop, May sat the scrapbook back down on the counter where she and Danny found it.

“Alright! Are we good to go?” May asked Danny.

“I think so. I made whole scrapbooks that we can maybe use for Aunt Mabel sometime. I bet she’d like to see her old pet-project again,” Danny replied.

“Great idea. You know, if it’s not us that steal the photo, I wonder what happens to this one.”

“Beats me. But no time to find out. Someone’s bound to come back any time now.” Danny said, handing one of the copies to May.

“You’re right… Hey, I’m sorry I kind of jumped you when we ran into each other. I thought maybe I violated some time-bureau thing and you were an agent or something,” May replied with sincerity as the two of them walked out of the entrance.

“That’s alright. No harm done. I’m sorry you hurt yourself trying to hurt me,” Danny replied to the girl.

“It’s fine,” May told her… sibling. “You know, it would be cool if we could hang, but with whatever this is, I don’t see how that’s possible any time soon.”

“You’re right,” Danny agreed, almost regretfully. “I don’t know how time-travel works, and I don’t Blendin’s inclined to tell someone who got the drop on him.”

“Huh?!”

“Nothing!”

The two stared at each other, not knowing what else to say. Finally, May broke the ice: “Awkward sibling-hug?”

The Mystery Twins embraced, awkwardly patting each other’s backs before separating.

“So, before we go our separate ways, can I ask you a weird question?” Danny asked sheepishly.

“Sure. What is it?” May responded.

“What’s like having a nose? A real one, I mean…”

Meanwhile, Mabel Pines had just come back downstairs. “I can’t believe I forgot I have one in my sweater’s inner pocket. What a silly-Mabel I am!” she said to herself, chuckling.

She stood by her scrapbook on the counter and tried to work the cap to the new glue-bottle off.

At the same time, a customer, who had come into the empty gift-shop just before the girl came down, went to approach Mabel and ask about getting rung up. Unfortunately, there was a snowglobe left on the floor by some child earlier that day. The man suddenly tripped on it and fell forward, only to stop himself by catching a fan. Said fan immediately started blowing on high, blasting Mabel’s hair all over her face and blowing a certain photograph into the yard, where an odd-looking goat caught in his mouth and ate it.

That was a dark day for Mabel Pines… who immediately planned to try to convince Dipper and Wendy to reenact that scene again.

The Pines twins from alternate futures faced each other, holding out their respective Time-Tapes (with the tape pulled out appropriately) and holding tightly onto their respective scrapbooks. The two got one last look at each other.

“Bye, Danny,” May said to her secret monster of a brother. “I love you, and I hope Mom and Dad like your gift.”

“Likewise, May,” Danny said, looking a bit sad. I wish you could see the others… I’d have liked to see their reactions meeting you.”

May gave him a soft smile. “Hey, I got to meet you, at least.” Danny smiled in response.

The Mystery Twins let the tape on their devices retract. There was a flash of light, and it was like they had never been there.

#wendip #Wendy Corduroy #Dipper Pines #Gravity Falls #WenDipWeek #fanfic #time travel #submission

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unmaskedagain · 4 years

Text

Marinette Vs Santa: The Final Round

Okay, so it’s 11:38 on Christmas. I promised I would post this today. So I am. Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays to everyone. Enjoy your present.

The jolly fat man would get his, Marinette swore. She wore a lovely gold, snowflake-embroidered cocktail dress. Her hair was done in a French side braid with voluminous Curls; more than she ever had in her entire life. Honestly, she looked like a princess.

And it would’ve been a win for her if it wasn’t for the circumstances that made it yet another Tie against Santa.

Roy has his hand on the small of her back since they step out of the limo. The forced sweet smile on her face was for the paparazzi that had waited outside the restaurant. When they got inside, and as they were shone to their table, Roy's hand slipped south.

Marinette stiffened and leaned close to Roy and whispered in his ear, “If you don’t get your hand off my butt, I’m going to take off one of my five-inch heels and slit your throat with it.”

Roy’s hand was gone in a flash, “Aww babe,” He said, a little loudly, nodding to the table where his parents’ Oliver and Dinah waited; their eyes watching the young couple’s every move. “You know I can’t keep my hands off you.”

Marinette giggled, as she fought the urge to slam his against a nearby table, “Not in front of your parents. It’s called manners.”

Your lucky homicide is still technically illegal, Marinette thought viciously, and a sure-fire way to get on fat bastard’s naughty list.

He wouldn’t win. No, Marinette had gone too far; been through too much to lose now.

“Thank you, Marinette,” Dinah stood once the two approached. She pulled Marinette into a hug. “I’ve tried to instill etiquette into Roy for years. His last girlfriends and he nearly in trouble for public indecency. Maybe you’ll do a better job than I did.”

Marinette laughed, “I will even if I have to cut off his hand.”

Oliver chuckled, “You’re definitely Bruce’s girl.” The resemblance was uncanny.

After that the fell into an easy conversation.

“That dress is beautiful,” Dinah said. “Who’s the designer?”

Marinette beamed, “I am. I love fashion. It’s my dream,” She explained. “I plan on launching my own company. While there’s always room to learn and enhance my designing skills, I feel as if I have that side at least somewhat covered. However, the business angle is something I need to learn. Which is why I plan on getting my MBA at an Ivy League. I was considering Yale or Princeton.”

“Princeton,” Oliver grinned. “Did you hear that Roy?” Roy rolled his eyes, and once again, regretted being born. “Marinette’s considering Princeton. That’s the top school on his list. Queens have gone there for generations.” He pulled his wife into a hug. “It’s where I knew Dinah was the one.”

Dinah gave Marinette a blank stare, “I couldn’t get rid of him. It was like having bedbugs.” (“Hey!” Oliver cried in protest.) “No matter what I did, he just coming back. The only solution was to burn the entire place down and vanish without a trace. But apparently, that’s illegal or whatever. Stupid.”

“I know, right,” Marinette nodded earnestly. “What’s up with that?”

They had a wonderful dinner. They watched a paparazzi pretending to be a waiter be escorted out of the restaurant. It was great, amazing even. Oliver and Dinah had been perfectly lovely. Roy had acted like a perfect gentleman. Marinette could’ve almost pretended she was actually meeting her boyfriend’s family. She was about to count the entire night as a win until…

“So how many grandkids should I expect in the future,” Oliver asked, a sincere look on his face, though he was snickering inside.

Marinette chocked on her chocolate mousse and ended up in a coughing fit that Dinah helped her with. Roy had met his father’s gaze and gave him his most charming smile, “Seven,” He answered.

“Seven!” Marinette barked out and she looked around frantically as if Ashton Kutcher had revived his hit show and was about to pop out.

Oh, gods; please let me be getting punked, Marinette prayed.

Oliver’s eyebrows went up, “Seven, huh, big family.”

Roy hummed, “the Wayne-Queens certainly will be.”

“You mean the Queen-Waynes,” Oliver corrected, his hackles rising.

“Well, I figured since we’d be living in Gotham,” Roy didn’t even bother to hide his smirk. “We’d go by the Wayne-Queen family. I actually found this great place not too far from Wayne Manor. Plenty of room for the kids, maybe a dog or two; a rose garden. You know how Waynes are about their roses. You can visit whenever.”

Marinette might have momentarily blacked out during this. It was how Marinette knew she had officially lost that round to Santa.

Oliver and Dinah just looked at Roy; their entire bodies stiff.

Dinah took a long drink from her wine glass, “Gotham has such a high crime rate. Have you considered Star City, Marinette?”

“I’ve never been,” Marinette said sweetly. “But I could live anywhere really. I’m pretty open.”

Roy wrapped an arm around her shoulders, “Yes, but I figured you’d want to spend as much time with your family as possible. Jason’s my best friend. I love Gotham. It just works. Besides Bruce Wayne would make an amazing grandpa.”

The grip Oliver had on his dessert fork made Marinette fear for Roy’s life. It was time to step in. “I suppose Robb or Thea would love a big backyard to play in.”

That got the other three’s attention.

“Robb? Thea?” Oliver whispered. His throat was dry. His brain tried to process what was said.

“I wasn’t supposed to say anything. But Roy and I started talking one day and well,” Marinette trailed off. A soft pink blush appeared on Marinette’s face, enhancing her overall innocent aura. She had done background on the Queen family. “Our firstborn; if it’s a boy Robb as in Robert Thomas; for your father and my grandfather. If it’s a girl, Thea Sabine; for your sister and my mother. It was Roy’s idea. He knows how much you loved them.”

It was then that Marinette got to check off one more wish off her list. It had been made as a joke in passing to Chloe and Kagami months ago. They had been having a girls’ night. When Chloe, ever prepared, asked what they wanted for Christmas. They had been watching a Justice League fight on the news. Marinette had laughed and said she wanted to show them up one day; make a superhero cry.

However, watching The Green Arrow tear up while the Black Canary comforted himself, made her think that Santa took her to wish out of context.

Roy was pulled into a big hug by his parents, and he sent her a vicious glare, and mouthed, “What did you do?”

Oliver pulled back, wiped his eyes, and said, “You know; there’s nothing like a spring wedding in Star City.”

Marinette threw down her napkin.

Fuck Santa.

The news had a field day. The picture of Marinette in her dress and Roy in his designer suit was what everyone was talking about. The women of the view talked about her outfit. Wendy Williams talked about her outfit. It was as if Marinette was living in another universe.

Nothing could bring her down.

“What the hell?” Jason asked as he picked her up for school. “Why the fuck is Roy spamming me with hate texts. Why the fuck is Oliver arguing with B over visitation rights to his grandchildren? Who the Fuck are Robb and Thea? And why the fuck is Dad asking Aquaman if Atlantis really sunk on its own, or if it had a little help?”

Marinette tiled her head, “Is Papa planning on sinking Star City? And that’s forty dollars for the swear jar.” Her parents had implements after one too many curse words were thrown around.

“Worth it!” Jason said. “And yes, I’ve positive that’s what’s going to happen. It’s gonna be amazing. Also, he’s gonna kill Roy!”

“He deserves it,” Marinette crossed her arms.

“Hey!”

“He put his hand on my butt!”

Jason paused and narrowed his eyes. “Correction. I’m gonna kill Roy.”

Marinette rolled her eyes, but then she realized something. “Aren’t they’re usually two of you? Where’s the other one?” It was the routine. She was always escorted into school by two members of the Wayne family.

Jason smirked, “You’ll see.”

The paparazzi mostly screamed the usual things at her. At that point, she was used to it. It was the few changes at school that she was used to.

Damocles had been fired for bribes and severe negligence. He was replaced by Mendeleev. Bustier had been fired for her role in Marinette’s expulsion without proper procedure and basically catering to bullies while blaming the victim. She replaced by a sterner teacher name Miss Reed. She was by the book and not afraid to call in the higher-ups if something smelled fishy.

The first was any and all forms of bullying in class was no longer tolerated. The school had issued a zero-tolerance policy that the kids in Bustier’s class had felt immediately.

The second was Lila’s supposed medical history. No doctor’s note, no special treatment. It was also required that Lila present a note from her mother regarding any future absences.

The third was Adrien’s being pulled randomly out of class. CPS got involved real fast regarding child labor laws.

The days of her classmates getting away with bloody murder were over. Reed saw everything. Everything.

Alya, who had returned to class always avoided Marinette at all times. Her parents had given her the biggest talking to about respecting others’ right to privacy. Marinette had agreed to drop any legal charges against her former friend provided she adhere to the cease and desist order. The girl knew too much about Marinette. And Marinette needed to make it clear that she would bury the girl in lawsuits before she’d allowed even one-fourth of it to be made public.

Jason had walked her to class. But he didn’t leave. Instead, he went directly to the back of the class and took a seat next to Chloe. He pulled out his phone and proceeded to ignore the curious looks from the students.

The blond eyed the ripped jeans, the overly sized red flannel shirt, and the beat-up leather jacket, “Grunge died in the 90s. Like it deserved.”

Jason, not bothering to look up from his phone, “Paris Hilton said it’s cool that you plagiarized her look.”

Chloe gasped.

Marinette just looked up at the ceiling, knowing exactly how this was going to go. Chloe would not forgive this. Jason was an asshole. It would be war.

Miss Reed walked in and didn’t look twice at Jason.

Marinette narrowed her eyes; something was up.

The class went on without a hitch though until just about the end of the first period…

When Tim and a pretty, brown-haired, tanned skin, an older woman walked in the door. They looked to be having a pleasant conversation.

“Mama,” Lila gasped, her eyes wide. “What are you doing here?” She looked around frantically.

“Ooohhhh,” Marinette nodded. “Yeah, that makes sense.” That was what was happening. Operation: Get That Bitch.

“Oh!” Tim feigned surprised. “I didn’t know your daughter was in my sister’s class, Naomi.”

Naomi had been pleasantly surprised when Tim Drake, the CEO of Wayne Industries reached out to speak to her about potential business ventures in Italy. He was in Paris visiting his sister and wanted an insider perspective on Italy’s economy and tourist information. Her bosses were thrilled. Wayne opening up a site in Italy would do wonders for the overall economic and industrial growth. Then they got to talking about a potential student exchange program that Wayne Industries were willing to fund.

What Tim hadn’t told the Ambassador was that Wayne Industries had been scouting locations in Italy for their new plant for the last ten months. All the research was done. Everything was primed to go. Still, Tim was kind enough to ensure that Naomi Rossi received the credit for getting Wayne Industries on board.

Mrs. Rossi blinked in surprise, “I had no idea either. Lila, we’re here to discuss a potential international exchange program for kids all over the world. Tim wanted to say hello to his sister. Why didn’t you tell me you were friends with Marinette Wayne?”

Marinette leaned forward in her seat. A slow smile spread across her face.

“I, well, I,” Lila struggled to say.

“We’re not the closest, Mrs. Rossi,” Marinette offered. “She’s always so busy, we haven’t had the time.”

“Ahh,” Tim snapped his fingers. “That Lila Rossi. Marinette told me all about her.” He crossed his arms. “Naomi, how was Achu? I haven’t gone yet. But from what Marinette’s told of Lila’s stories, you two go all the time. You become close to the royal family, yes?”

Coldness went down to Naomi Rossi’s spine. She stiffened. Her eyes went to her daughter who had a look of dread on her face. Not this again, she nearly groaned. “There’s been some… confusion,” Mrs. Rossi said, gearing up every ounce of diplomacy she learned in her twenty-year career. Lila was so grounded after this. “A miscommunication, I suppose. My ambassadorship has taken my family to England, Spain, and Japan for a little while, and here in France, of course. However, nowhere else. We have never been to Achu. That is a bit above my paygrade, I’m afraid,” She laughed nervously.

The class was as silent as a library. If Bustier was still there, a few students would’ve started yelling their complaints and cries for explanations. One or two would’ve started screaming at Lila for lying. But Bustier was gone. And the look Reed was giving her class, dared them to try.

Tim chuckled, “Kids. When I was seven I swore I spent the summer in Greece with my parents. I didn’t find out until I was eleven that I was actually in Rome. What can you do?” He gave her his most charming smile. “England, was that where Lila met Jagged Stone? I think he’s from there.”

“Jagged who now?” Naomi asked. “The Rock Star? No, Lila’s never met him. She’s a huge fan though.”

“But he wrote a song about her!” Alya cried out. “She saved his cat from getting hit by a plane!”

Miss Reed, “Alya, please raise your hand and keep to a reasonable level while inside. It will be detention if I have to tell you again.”

Miss Reed and Mendeleiev had agreed to The Wayne's suggestion of revealing Lila’s lies to the class. It was the only way they would believe it and that she could lie her way out of. It was unnatural the way the students trailed after the girl, simpering over grand stories and promises of famous connections. They needed to learn to rely on hard work and their own talent, not on how many famous people they might get to the chance to meet.

“A plane?” Mrs. Rossi asked, an affronted look on her face. “You think I would ever allow my child to be in such danger?” She looked at her daughter. “Your grandmother always said you would be a grand writer with all the stories you tell. You could’ve at least come with a sensible lie.”

“I can explain,” Lila said but whether she was talking to her mother or class was anyone’s guess.

Rose raised her hand, “Lie? Lila can’t be lying. What about all the trips she takes with you? The charity organizations she runs? The famous people she knows like Clara Nightingale who always ask her for help. She’s close friends with Prince Ali. That’s why she’s always away from school. One time she was gone for weeks.”

Naomi Rossi looked at her daughter, who did everything she could to avoid eye contact with her mother. “You told me that the school was closed due to the Akumas. It was a lie.” She looked at the teacher. “If the school wasn’t closed, Lila should have only missed three days of school this semester due to her being ill with the flu. She should have only missed seven to ten days in total last year. I do apologize, my daughter…” She gave Lila a dark look. “Seems to have a talent for tall tales.”

Miss Reed stood up, “It’s a matter for the Principle. Her last teacher overlooked many things and wrote off what she couldn’t. Her schoolwork was done the year before; her grades were good enough to pass. She has not missed too many days so far; a few more than the average student but it happens. Any homework missed can still be made up. She is welcome in my class. However, when you get the chance, I would like make an appointment to discuss with you any medical accommodations she has that need to be addressed.”

Mrs. Rossi crossed her arms, “She never wears her glasses. She has sensitive eyes that prevent her from wearing contacts. Without them, she can’t see more than a few feet ahead of her.” She looked straight at her daughter. “And she knows this.”

Marinette wanted to bang her head against the desk. Why couldn’t Lila just say that? She’d have understood.

Mrs. Rossi looked at the class, “I am so sorry for any trouble my daughter may have caused.” She looked at Tim. “I hope this doesn’t cast a negative light on any prospective business relations.”

Tim shook his head, “Kids will be kids. Let’s continue to speak over lunch.”

“I’ll see you at home, Lila,” Mrs. Rossi said.

Tim grinned, “Marinette, I’ll see you after school. Jason.”

Jason got to leave only to stumble nearly down the stairs. He cast a quick glare at Chloe.

The blond gave him a vicious smirk, “Walk much?”

“Oh it’s on,” Jason hissed.

Marinette rolled her eyes. Last year, she had wished with all her might that her friends would see Lila for who she really was. Now the truth was out. Lila had been exposed.

Regrettably, Marinette had already lost all her friends. And those who were still her friends, already knew the truth. So it wouldn’t change much. She’d had already forgiven her ex-friends a long time ago. Marinette just had to intention of being friends with them again. Still, it was a victory.

Fuck Santa; this round went Marinette.

The Justice League had been stunned when they learned that the masked hero Ladybug who was protecting Paris in an adorable bright red suit, who seemed to be made of sunshine, rainbows, and happiness was Batman’s daughter. Like so stunned that as soon as they saw her secret Identity of Marinette Dupain-Cheng, and her takedown of monsters twelve times her size; one or two (or twelve) asked Superman to take a DNA test too. Because Bruce Wayne wasn’t the only black-haired Superhero around, and you know things happen.

…Batman hadn’t been happy when Oracle alerted him that someone in the Watch Tower was running his daughter’s DNA against Superman’s.

“How sure are we?” Hal Jordan asked. “The DNA results never came back. How do we know she’s not Big S’s?”

The main members of the Justice League were waiting for Batman and his family to arrive. Then they were would officially be introduced to the hero Ladybug.

Superman glared, “Stop it. Batman already brought out the kryptonite the last time you mentioned it.”

Wonder man nodded, “Her civilian self is the spitting image of Bruce.”

“All of his kids have dark hair and light eyes,” The Flash reminded them. “One of like seven or twelve, or however many he has now, we know for sure is his.”

“They are all his,” Black Canary stated with a growl. She and Oliver had adopted Roy when he was young but that didn’t make the boy any less hers.

Just then the light of the zeta beam sounded and Batman and Ladybug appeared in the room. The clear contrast between the two was startling.

The Dark, brooding, Knight of Gotham dressed in all black with a look on his face that could’ve made Superman wince in fear. Ladybug, dressed in bright red, with a big, cheerful, smile on her face and large blue eyes that looked positively mesmerized by the heroes.

“I brought cookies,” The small girl chirped as she motioned to the goodies in her hands. “And apple pie! It’s a family recipe. I made them myself. I really hope you like them.”

Batman glared worsen to the point where a few Justice League members feared for their lives. The message was clear; they’d like them. Or else.

“I’m sure they’re wonderful,” Diana smiled. “Come on, let me show you where we’ll be meeting.

Marinette tried not to stare in awe at her favorite superhero. “I also brought Vegan. And gluten-free cookies. I wanted to make sure everyone could get some.” She said as she was led away.

The world-renowned heroes visibly cooed at the young hero. She was the most adorable thing they’d ever laid eyes on.

The Flash laughed, “What did you bring, Bats?”

“Death,” Batman growled as stalked after his daughter.

Cyborg swallowed hard. “I’m not saying you’re right,” He told Hal and Barry. “I’m saying for this type of situation; Maury is classier than Jerry Springer.”

Superman groaned. They were going to get him killed.

“Apple pie!” The flash said. “She brought Apple, Clark; it’s a sign from the gods.”

Ladybug briefing them on her hero journey had been riveting. The Justice League had always been aware of Ladybug's existence. Once aware of her, Diana had told them all the history of the Miraculous and how her own mother used to be one of the users. Ladybug, with Chat Noir for a time, handled herself and protected the city well. They saw no reason to interfere. The Justice League had strict rules of interfering with another’s heroes’ turf. They figured if Ladybug needs help, the hero would call on them. They never knew she was a child.

Her age bothered them.

“She can’t protect the city,” Aquaman said. “We’ll need to step in.”

“Excuse me,” Marinette said.

The Flash nodded, “We’ll need to run Intel. I’ll have Vibe take a look at things.”

“Wait! I don’t think you-” Marinette started but was cut off.

“The magic is ancient and powerful,” Hawkman interrupted. “We should call Constantine. Or Doctor Fate perhaps.”

Ladybug shook her head, “That wouldn’t be a good idea!”

Green Lantern waved her off, “It’s fine, kid. We’ll handle it. While we’re at it; consider joining Young Justice or Teen Titans. Get you some training before you call yourself a real hero. Until then stick with the little league team.”

Marinette froze. What did he just say? White-hot anger coursed through her veins.

And to think she always dreamed of meeting the Justice League; of standing face to face with the heroes after having proven herself; proven that she was just as much of a superhero as they. However, Marinette knew she was already a hero. And no one would tell her otherwise.

The round went to Santa. But Marinette would have her due.

Fuck Santa!

Superman said, “We’ll start having unplaced league members scouting the area. They’ll notify us at the first sign of Hawkmoth.”

“ENOUGH!” Marinette yelled. She growled at the heroes. “Who the hell do you think you are?” The silence that followed that question was deafening. “You know nothing of Hawkmoth; saw nothing of what I’ve been through. There is a reason I never called in the league. Superpowered individuals still have emotions; still anger. He can turn any of you into akumas. Get inside your heads; learn who you really are. You’ll be a toy for him. Batman brought me here to meet you; not for you to pretend you know how to do my job.”

She glared at the room and then zeroed in on the Green Lantern. Within seconds, Ladybug had yanked him out of his seat, pulled the ring off his finger, and held by his collar as the man detransformed. “Real Hero? You think I’m not a real hero? I’ve fought monsters nightmares couldn’t even begin to fathom. You want to see what I’m capable of, Glow Stick? How about I take you to the nearest training room and see if you bleed green?”

Batman stood up, “My team will be running point on the Paris situation; following Ladybug lead. You’ll refrain from entering the city of Paris until further notice. That is all.” He looked at his daughter and had to fight to keep the smile off his face. “Ladybug let Green Lantern go, and give him back his ring.”

Ladybug huffed, “I’ll give him back his ring. And then I want ten minutes alone with him.”

Hal gulped.

“No,” Batman said. “We must leave. You have to get ready for Winter break. Next time.”

Ladybug glared and then dropped the hero on the ground. “Next time,” She promised.

Then swiftly the father and daughter duo departed.

Once the two were gone, Wonder Woman chuckled, “Anyone else want to question Ladybug’s Paternity. Anyone?”

Barry had to fight the shivers that went through him. Ladybug had Batman’s glare and knew how to use it. “Nope. Never again.”

Marinette’s first night in Gotham was memorable. The entire bat family had been waiting for Marinette when she arrived; Bruce, Alfred, Kate, Dick, Barbara, Jason, Cassandra, Tim, Stephanie, Luke, and Damian. Alfred, the man her brothers had deemed their grandfather, had welcomed her with open arms and a dinner that was more like a feast than a simple meal.

On the outside, Wayne manor looked like any home in the neighborhood; quiet, idealistic, and seemingly perfect.

On the inside, as soon as Bruce and Alfred stepped away for a moment, her siblings took her to the Batcave. It was as grand as she always imagined. Then someone (Tim) brought out lightsabers.

Marinette thought it was a fancy version of the toy she used to love so much as a kid; her only complaint was that the plastic swords only came in green, red and the occasional blue. She really wanted a pink one and had put it on her Christmas list for two years straight.

She pressed the button, only for the sword handle to heat up, and a pink laser rises out of it. “Tim?”

“Yeah?”

“…This is a real lightsaber,” The heat from the sword threated to burn or hand a little. Or worse. She’d seen all the movies. She knew how this usually ended up.

“Yep.”

Marinette nodded slowly. Because what the heck.

“Just go with it,” Luke shrugged. “Just-just go with it.” He sounded like a defeated man. A tired one at that.

“Don’t be like that!” Dick smiled, “Family bond time is the best time.”

“Jedi versus Sith?” Marinette just asked.

Tim pointed a bright gold lightsaber at her, “Jedi versus Sith.”

Marinette looked around at the different colored and very, very dangerous lightsabers. There was no way this could possibly go well. And with the way her Kate, aka Batwoman, was smirking there was no way Alfred would consider her proper adult supervision. Someone was going to lose a hand. Or die. Most likely both.

But she wouldn’t back down. This was more or less her eight-year-old self’s dream. It was also likely to get her killed.

…Marinette would take those odds.

“What team am I on?” She asked.

Cassandra shook her head, “Up to you. Good versus is a chose; just a game though,” She cast Stern looks at Jason, Tim, and Damian, who now sported black robes, clearly, by the Darth Maul make up that had somehow appeared on Damian’s face, were clearly Sith Lords.

Santa thought this would scare her. That she would be cowed into submission. Finally admit defeat. Well, Marinette only had one thing to say to that. Two things actually.

“Give in to the dark side, sister,” Damian ordered her. His lightsaber was red and had two sides to it much like the character he matched.

Marinette got into a fighting stance, “Not today.”

And Fuck Santa.

…

Alfred and Bruce were not happy when they finally located the children.

Or the fact that someone had to get their hand reattached.

It was two to two. Christmas day had arrived. Marinette had expected the worst; had geared up for the worst.

Nothing happened.

Marinette spent the day with her family.

Her parents had even arrived from Paris on the day before Christmas eve.

They shared presents. They sang songs. The entire family was together. It snowed outside. She and all of her siblings had a snowball fight while her parents and Alfred watched from the porch.

It was a perfect Christmas day.

Except for one thing…

Marinette knew the truth.

The perfect day was the result of one thing…

Santa was preparing too. He didn’t back down. The fight wasn’t over yet. He was too busy to mess with her on Christmas Eve or Christmas. Nevertheless, that didn’t mean anything.

Everyone knew the Holiday season didn’t officially end until January 1st.

After New Year’s eve.

That was the final round.

The match to end all matches.

On New Years’ Eve, it would be war.

Roy wore a tailored tux as he walked her down the carpet, passed the flashing lights of the paparazzi.

Marinette never thought she’d fight the most battle of her life in a ballgown. It was a jaw-dropping, off the shoulder, floor length silver dress with lacy unique floral accents. Her hair was in a side-braid with small forget-me-nots on top of her hair like a crown.

It was her battle armor, and she was ready for anything.

It was a promise, she made to herself.

…

Okay so it turns out, Marinette lied to herself.

She wasn’t ready for anything. She did not stand a chance against Santa. He was a jerk. And she was six-second from throwing in the towel and running off crying.

Marinette had known exactly who was attending the ball. She had memorized every guest on the list. Trying to figure out exactly what the fat guy who throws out her. As soon as she saw exactly which celebrities were coming. She knew.

The first punch had been the man ten-year-old Marinette swore she was going marry. Harry freaking Styles.

But Marinette had prepared herself. It would be a quick conversation and then she wouldn’t speak to him for the rest of the night.

When she met the superstar, Marinette had smiled and laughed; had a good conversation, wasn’t even awkward at all. She wasn’t the overly One Direction obsessed 10-year-old anymore.

It was a hard hit, and the best conversation of her life, but Marinette didn’t go down.

Santa’s next move was a cheap shot, and she stumbled.

Marinette had been trying to find a quiet place to think for herself so could get strengthen up a bit but, to avoid one of her brothers (Dick), she collided straight into Nick Jonas and fell on her butt.

She hadn’t even realized it at first as he helped her up.

“Thank you,” Marinette said kindly, as she brushed off her dress. When she looked up and saw exactly who had collided with, her face turned a bright red. “You’re Nick Jonas,” She squeaked; literally squeaked. She wanted to die.

Nick Jonas. She loved Nick Jonas. She listen to all his songs; even his old Jonas Brothers ones. She had always wanted to meet the singer; she had dreamed about it.

“Yeah,” Nick smiled. “You alright.”

No. Marinette was not alright.

Still, she chirped a quick, “I’m fine.” And introduced herself.

Then he said, “Love your dress.”

“I made it! I can make you one!” Slipped out before she could stop it.

He just laughed though, “How about a suit instead?”

Yeah, so that happened.

And the night just got worse from there.

…

Santa gave her a combo hit; worthy of a champion.

Not many knew but Marinette was a huge Harry Potter fangirl. Hermione Granger was her all-time favorite. She was a hardcore Harmony shipper; Harry/Hermione forever.

Tim knew it though. He was a big-time fan as well. And he thought it would be a great idea to introduce Marinette to the actress who played her favorite character; Emma Watson.

It was not a good idea. At all.

The first words out of Marinette’s mouth upon seeing Emma Watson were literally, “It's leviOsa, not levioSA!”

And it was at the point that Marinette just wanted to call it a night.

Emma had laughed it off, promising she got it all the time.

…

Marinette met Chris Hemsworth and just wouldn’t stop giggling.

Stephanie had to pull her away.

It was then that she knew Santa had her on the ropes.

…

She met Big Time Rush.

The boy band had become internally famous over the last few years. Not as big as One Direction but they still had their dedicated fans. Marinette was one of them

Kendall Knight, James Diamond, Carlos Garcia, and Logan Mitchell. They were all eighteen

It should’ve have been easy. She liked their band but not nearly as much as she liked Harry Styles, or Emma Watson, Or Chris Hemsworth.

Still, she hadn’t seen James asking her to dance coming.

However, Marinette had remained calm and cool.

It’s a pity, she was still such a klutz.

Suffice to say, Marinette wouldn’t be listening to Big Time Rush for a while. And James Diamond wouldn’t be asking strange girls to dance any time soon.

Santa gave her a punch right in the face.

…

She ran into Tom Holland the exact moment she got the hiccups. He did his best to help her get rid of them

…

Marinette had just stuffed an entire cupcake in her mouth when she realized Jennifer Lawrence was standing next to her. It wasn’t too bad. As the blond did the same thing a second later.

…

She pointed at Johnny Depp and said, “Jack Sparrow. You’re Jack Sparrow. Oh my god!!!”

To which he replied, “Captain Jack Sparrow.”

…

Suffice to say, Santa didn’t have Marinette on the robes anymore.

No, Marinette was on the floor; waiting for the referee to call it.

…

It was an hour until the official New Year. Fifteen minutes until Marinette was supposed to perform. She was backstage. Everyone was waiting for her. She promised Tim.

And she found that she just couldn’t do it.

The entire night was too much.

It was all too much.

It was over.

She had lost.

“Rough night?” Roy, her date and pretend boyfriend asked.

Marinette was sitting on a chair, her face in her hands, “You have no idea.”

Roy sat next to her, “Pretty exciting though right?” He didn’t get an answer. “Tim said you met Emma Watson, that had to be awesome.”

“It was embarrassing.”

Roy frowned, “Sabine told me you used to dress up as Hermione Granger all time. You’re saying meeting the Queen herself wasn’t even a little cool?”

Yeah, it had been amazing to meet her in person. “A little cool.”

Roy chuckled, “You met Harry Styles,” He reminded. “And from your blond bestie told me; my only real competition.”

Marinette giggled. “That had been… awesome.” And everything.

“You met Chris Hemsworth,” He added. “Tom Holland, Big Time Rush, and a bunch of other celebs that I’ve been told you were huge fans of. Yeah, you were a little embarrassed.” He shook his head. “But I don’t get it; I’d be so psyched right now if I were you. So why aren’t you.”

Marinette paused.

Why wasn’t she?

Marinette had met people she never even dared to really hope she’d ever meet one day. She wore the most beautiful dress in her entire life; danced with Roy Queen and James Diamond. Joked with Harry Styles. Talked Emma Watson the actress who played the character she loved most out of all the books, tv shows, and movies she’d ever loved.

It was all a matter of perspective really. Marinette was so focused on the bad, she never even realized just how great it was. Santa had thrown the worst at her but was still there. She hadn’t run back to Wayne Manor no matter how much she had wanted to. She stayed strong.

At one point, she knew for certain that she wouldn’t just surrender; after the Chris Hemsworth incident. If Santa wanted to win, he was going to have to knock her out.

“Thanks, Roy,” She said. “I couldn’t wish for a better date.”

It was the most amazing night of her life.

And no one was going to make her feel otherwise.

Marinette stood up, determination on her face.

She had a song to sing.

…

Marinette stood on stage. The crowd looked up at her. Her hands were shaking. Her mouth felt dry. The lights were near blinding. She had changed the song at the last minute. The music was coming from her phone anyway.

Marinette knew the lyrics to the song by heart; had sung it a thousand times in her room to herself.

She could do this.

I will do this, Marinette swore.

The music started. It was her favorite song. And Marinette was going to sing it so loudly, so proudly; they could hear her in the North Pole.

“What if I told you

It was all meant to be

Would you believe me

Would you agree

It's almost that feelin'

That we've met before

So tell me that you don't think I'm crazy

When I tell you love has come and now.”

She was doing it. Marinette was really doing it. She always had a good voice. She had taken singing lessons for a long time. And her teachers always praised her talent. But after one terrible incident, she never thought she’d ever get on stage and sing in front of anyone again.

But there she was.

“A moment like this

Some people wait a lifetime

For a moment like this

Some people search forever…

Honestly, Marinette could fall right on her face and it would stop the euphoric feeling coursing through. This was her victory song.

Jolly Saint Nick had thrown at her more than she ever thought she could take. But she was still standing.

And as long as she was, the big red guy would never win.

For that one special kiss

Oh, I can't believe it's happening to me

Some people wait a lifetime

For a moment like this…”

The music faded. The applause from the audience roared.

…

Marinette and Roy slow danced to something my Celine Dion neither could recognize. The New Year was less than two minutes away.

“You’re looking a lot better,” Roy smirked. He knew he was good at Pep talks to matter what Artemis said.

“I feel better,” Marinette admitted. “It’s been an awesome few weeks.”

“Yeah?” Roy asked as he twirled her around.

Marinette nodded, “Nearly Every. One. Of. My. Christmas wishes came true.” She tried not to growl. Positive outlook after.

“Santa must be out to get you.”

Marinette looked up at Roy with appreciation, “You have no idea.”

“Anything he didn’t get to?” The redhead asked. “Something you can do for yourself first?”

“Countdown to New Years in 10!”

Marinette thought about it for a second but she realized there was. There was one more thing on her list, that she added at the very beginning of Christmas.

“Yeah, there is.” She said. “Do you want to kiss me.”

Roy nodded earnestly.

The crowd counted down. “7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1” And then Marinette kissed Roy.

Balloons came from above. Everyone cheered. But Marinette kept kissing Roy.

She always wanted a New Year’s kiss.

Take that and stick it up your chimney, Santa.

Marinette was officially the winner.

Nevertheless, there was always next year.

But for now, fuck Santa!

#ml salt #ml fic #marinette dupen chang #Marinette deserves better #batfamily

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thelittlestcheshire · 3 years

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they say love is a journey (a in character ches playlist regarding elliot)

Started in May of 2020, this is a playlist I made to process Ches’s emotions throughout the entirety of her relationship with Elliot, because music has always been an important tool for her to process things that occur in her life, and I thought it’d be a fun little project to watch how things developed as the plot progressed. And now, I’m sharing it with all of you on the anniversary of their first kiss! I sort of divided it into three “acts” in order to post it because I thought that’d be easier, which you can find under the read more! Happy year of Chelliot, y'all! ( @elliotgdi )

act i: longing

bind your love (cher lloyd) [ooh, now i'm found, i'll never be lost. i'll stick with you no matter the cost. whatever comes we'll figure it out, i know that] // do i wanna know (arctic monkeys) [do i wanna know if this feelin' flows both ways? sad to see you go, was sorta hopin' that you'd stay. baby, we both know that the nights were mainly made for sayin' things that you can't say tomorrow day] // surrender (natalie taylor) [whenever you're ready, whenever you're ready. can we? can we surrender? i surrender] // chasing cars (snow patrol) [i don't quite know how to say how i feel. those three words are said too much. they're not enough] // daisy (zedd) [trust me, i won't give your heart away. why you running, running when you got it right here? oh, i would love you if you let me] // secret love song, pt. ii (little mix) [why can't i say that i'm in love? i wanna shout it from the rooftops/ i wish that it could be like that; why can't it be like that? 'cause i'm yours] // i found (amber run) [and i found love where it wasn't supposed to be, right in front of me, talk some sense to me] // ditmas (mumford & sons) [a broken house. another dry month waiting for the rain/ and i had been resisting this decay; i thought you'd do the same] // what do we got to lose (katherine mcnamara) [i've been lonely for so long i've sang the blues. oh but now your the only one that makes me feel brand new. i'm thinking, what do we got to lose?] // pray (bebe rexha) [i pray to god. he's like one too many drinks, and my intuition starts to sink] // afterglow (taylor swift) [i don't wanna lose, i don't wanna lose this with you. i need to say, hey it's all me; just don't go. meet me in the afterglow]

act ii: acceptance

i walk the line (halsey) [i find it very, very easy to be true. i find myself alone when each day is through. yes, i'll admit that i'm a fool for you] // dreaming alone (against the current) [don’t lie, bright eyes, is it me that you see when you fall asleep? ‘cause i know it’s you i dream about every night, giving me a feeling like love in the summer; the way i’ve never felt with another] // i need you to turn to (elton john) [and i wonder sometimes, and i know i'm unkind but i need you to turn to when i act so blind. and i need you to turn to when i lose control, you're my guardian angel who keeps out the cold] // cornelia street (taylor swift) [and baby, i get mystified by how this city screams your name. and baby, i'm so terrified of if you ever walk away i'd never walk cornelia street again] // aurora borealis (bohnes) [you're a million fireflies, you're my northern lights. my magic in the sky] // cosmic love (florence + the machine) [i took the stars from our eyes, and then i made a map and knew that somehow i could find my way back. then i heard your heart beating, you were in the darkness too, so i stayed in the darkness with you] // give me love (ed sheeran) [give me love like never before 'cause lately i've been craving more. and it's been a while but i still feel the same; maybe i should let you go. you know i'll fight my corner, and that tonight i'll call ya after my blood is drowning in alcohol] // only us (laura dreyfuss and ben platt) [so what if it's us? what if it's us and only us, and what came before won't count anymore or matter? can we try that?] // call it what you want (taylor swift) [my baby's fit like a daydream, walking with his head down; i'm the one he's walking to. so call it what you want, yeah, call it what you want to. my baby's fly like a jet stream, high above the whole scene, loves me like i'm brand new. so call it what you want, yeah, call it what you want to] // fly with me (jonas brothers) [if it's you and me forever, if it's you and me right now, that'd be alright (be alright). if we chase the stars to lose our shadow, peter pan and wendy turned out fine. so, won't you fly with me?] // all about us (he is we) [take my hand, i'll teach you to dance; i'll spin you around, won't let you fall down. would you let me lead? you can step on my feet. give it a try, it'll be alright] // {if you're wondering if i want you to} i want you to (weezer) [and i said girl, if you're wondering if i want you to (i want you to) i want you to (i want you to). i swear it's true (swear it's true), without you, my heart is blue]

act ii: he loves you too

the only exception (paramore) [i've got a tight grip on reality, but i can't let go of what's in front of me here. i know you're leaving in the morning when you wake up; leave me with some kind of proof it's not a dream.] // hearts don't break around here (ed sheeran) [oh my baby, lately i know that every night i'll kiss you, you'll say in my ear; "oh, we're in love, aren't we?" hands in your hair, fingers and thumbs, baby. i feel safe when you're holding me near, love the way that you conquer your fear. you know hearts don't break around here] // lover (taylor swift) [and there's a dazzling haze, a mysterious way about you, dear. have i known you twenty seconds or twenty years?] // sucker (jonas brothers) [i'm a sucker for you, you say the word and i'll go anywhere blindly. i'm a sucker for you, yeah, any road you take, you know that you'll find me] // never gonna give you up (rick astley) [never gonna give you up, never gonna let you down, never gonna run around and desert you. never gonna make you cry, never gonna say goodbye, never gonna tell a lie and hurt you] // perfect (ed sheeran) [baby, i'm dancing in the dark with you between my arms. barefoot on the grass, listening to our favourite song. i have faith in what i see; now i know i have met an angel in person and she looks perfect. i don't deserve this, you look perfect tonight] // nothing else matters (little mix) [i told ya, don't let me down, i know you never did, and i don't want ya, don't want ya to start now. i got the lock, gave you the key; look at us now, still you and me. man, we come, we come so far] // love me like that (katherine mcnamara) [i can feel my body drowning but there's no use catching my breath 'cause these seconds turn to hours when we're tangled up in this bed. and it comes in waves, when you love me; couldn't stay away, when you love me like, when you love me like that] // when the lights go out - piano version (gabrielle aplin) [the nights where i blow up with no excuse; the way that you show up and pull me through. no pretty lies, just the ugly truth, and you feel the same way, too. being with you is easy, easy as breathing. only you can see me when the lights go out] // i get to love you (ruelle) [they say love is a journey, i promise that i'll never leave. when it's too heavy to carry, remember this moment with me. i get to love you, i get to love you. i get to love you]

#yes I scheduled this to the MINUTE okay #you know i adore queue #in our darkest hours we’re not invincible but we're both stronger than we know ( elliot )#musings ( matters of the heart )#musings ( playlists )#all of my heroes died all alone ( musings )#musings ( content ches would create )

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sirthisisa-wendys · 3 years

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I was watching this video "black in Japan" and they talked about what dating was like over there and how they feel about foreigners and skin color. As a black woman, sometimes I find that it can can be a bit discouraging to know that these anime characters probably don't even have my perception of beauty in their threshold, so it's always nice to see how inclusive you are as a writer especially for things that people wouldn't think to be inclusive about. Thanks Wendy!

I'm glad you can find yourself in these characters. It's really disheartening to me to think about how black women are fetishised when it comes to sex and sensuality (Lord knows how many times I've heard "I've never been with a black girl before" like it's a square of the bingo card of life) and we're so diverse and truly some of the most educated women anywhere, yet all we can be reduced to is a stereotype.

And God forbid we break that stereotype! It's like they don't know what to do with us!

I've been on dates where men have been like "oh you don't talk black" and I ask them what "black" is supposed to sound like. Likewise, I find no solace in the black community, because I'm not black enough.

I said all of that to say... You really got me at a good time. I've been feeling so down and out lately because I really don't fit in anywhere. Not socially, not at work, and not in dating/relationship areas. And while it's so fun to be the "unique girl" on paper, it sucks out in the real world.

And remembering that I'm not what's stereotypical... And that so many other races of men just look at me as if I'm supposed to belong to a monolith...

It really doesn't do anything to make me feel better about being a single black woman in the world.

So I pretend.

I pretend I'm the girls I write about in my fics. I pretend that I can have anyone I want in an alternate universe. I pretend I'm someone else.

When I tell you the hours I spend crafting fics are my favorite hours of the day, I mean that. I really do. I feel like I can be myself, and it's celebrated here.

So thank you all for allowing me to be myself and write self-indulgent shit and go crazy over 2D men that I'm attracted to. I really owe you all thanks, because this is my sweet escape from out there.

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carewyncromwell · 3 years

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Hey guys! POTC AU update time at last! Very sorry for the delay, but s*** is really going down now in this story...

One of my biggest criticisms for the climax of At World’s End is how, ultimately, both the Navy’s armada and all of the diverse pirates gathered together as part of the Brethren Court are ultimately pointless. We get our huge confrontation between the Flying Dutchman and the Black Pearl, which ends with both ships blowing up Beckett’s flagship...and then the Navy just hightails it away with their tails between their legs, even if they still outmatch the pirates and there would surely be a chain of command under Beckett that could take over. There isn’t even anything to show that the Navy lost their nerve after losing their “great leader” or anything or were reluctant to fight to begin with. And again, that ends up making the non-main-character pirates that we only just met in At World’s End, like the Pirate Lords, completely unnecessary to the narrative aside from giving up their Pieces of Eight, which easily could’ve been rewritten to not include the Pirate Lords. This is why I’m restructuring this climax so that all of the Lords (and the Keeper of the Code) have a role in the coming battle, rather than just having them stand on the sidelines.

Black powder is a much messier, more combustible precursor to modern gunpowder, which has a very strong odor and produces a lot of smoke when it explodes. It’s better used for things like fireworks and rockets than firearms, particularly since it’s even more vulnerable to moisture than regular gunpowder is. Black powder was first developed in China circa the 9th century, before its use in firearms was phased out in favor of the cleaner, safer gunpowder we know today.

Although the traditional “Redcoat” was developed as a uniform for British soldiers in the mid-1600s, the British Navy actually didn’t have official uniforms for its sailors until 1748. Before that point, only naval officers generally wore uniforms. My guess about why the Pirates films don’t follow this model and have even the lower-rank British Naval soldiers wear uniforms in AWE is for the sake of visual short-hand for the audience and to further accent the divide between the uniformity of the law-keepers (the army and Navy) VS the diversity of the law-breakers (the pirates).

Previous part is here, and whole tag is here! Jules Farrier-Weasley belongs to @cursebreakerfarrier, Samantha O’Connell belongs to @samshogwarts, Ellie Hopper belongs to @that-ravenpuff-witch, Arjun Singh and Aishwarya Mehra belong to @hogwarts9, and Finn McGarry/Davy Jones belongs to @theguythatdraws! Also briefly referenced is Gwendolyn “Wendy” Gordon, who belongs to @drinkyoursoupbitch. xoxo

x~x~x~x

When Jules, Jacob, and Orion returned, they immediately convened a war council with the other Pirate Lords and their crews in the Hall of the Codex. There was a lot of strategizing that needed to be done before the battle the following day -- and as to be expected, Murphy McNully was instrumental in pinpointing what they needed.

“According to the Admiral’s intelligence, there are 34 Man O’ Wars out there waiting for us. We ourselves have a fleet of 73 galleons, brigs, schooners, sloops, and ketches. Now, naturally, that sounds like a lot, but keep in mind that each of the Navy’s Man O’ Wars has anywhere between 50 to 100 guns on each ship...meaning they have between 1700 and 3400 guns altogether. Even if we technically could have more guns numerically, there’s a 97.9% chance that our ships wouldn’t be able to withstand a full-frontal assault by those things. If we tried, we’d basically have to sacrifice our lives in the hundreds just to deal any damage, and even then, there’s less than a one percent chance that we could actually defeat the Navy, doing that.”

“It’d be a pyrrhic victory, at best,” said Ellie sadly.

Jae nodded. “I doubt any of us are much in the mood for a suicide mission, so we’ll need to come up with something better.”

“Especially since Carey’s on board one of those ships,” said Bill solemnly. “We can’t let him get hurt.”

Charlie, Jules, Jacob, and Orion’s eyes all narrowed at this. While Charlie and Jules nodded in agreement, Jacob’s jaw clenched and Orion clasped his hands in his lap and closed his eyes.

Ashe brought a hand up to squeeze Jacob’s shoulder, resting his head absently on top of his.

“Speaking from my own experience,” he said very dryly, “brute strength is hardly a be-all-end-all. Obviously one should think twice before attacking a larger enemy...but sometimes the element of surprise can turn the tide. Larger enemies often assume they have less to fear.”

“Aye...” said Jacob softly.

He considered the makeshift map and model ships they’d set up on the stained round table. Then he reached out to pick one of the miniature ketches and consider it carefully.

"We don’t have the firepower to defeat the Navy,” he said to the others, “but we do have stealth on our side.”

He immediately set about maneuvering the pieces around on the map, grouping all of the smaller ones together.

“The first thing we need is for a fleet made of the smaller ships -- the schooners, sloops, and ketches -- to carefully infiltrate the Man O’ Wars. Send a few of our men onto each ship in disguise, so they can load their lower decks with unlit explosives.”

“They could also easily sabotage their cannons and rudder chains, while they’re there,” said Orion softly.

Jacob shot a halfhearted glare at Orion out the side of his eye. Clearly even if they were allies and Orion brought up a great point, the Pirate Lord of the Atlantic Ocean was still a bit resentful about the Lord of the Caribbean Sea’s relationship with his sister.

“...Right. Then I say we -- meaning you, Captain Farrier-Weasley, as the Pirate King -- warn Beckett and the Navy that we’ll release Calypso, if they don’t turn back and let us leave Shipwreck Cove in peace. With Jones being with them, Beckett and the Navy either should already know or will immediately find out just how dangerous that is. Make sure to bluff Beckett that Calypso has so much power that she could destroy a Man O’ War with her little pinky, if she wanted.”

Samantha’s face lit up as she caught on to Jacob’s idea. “Oh! Then once Calypso is free and the weather starts getting bad...we can have the galleons and brigs attack the Man O’ Wars -- ”

“ -- and we can blow up the explosives on board with our cannons!” finished Charlie, exchanging an excited grin with Samantha.

Merula’s face burst into an huge smile too. “And it’ll make it look to the Navy like Calypso has given us this supernatural power boost!”

“Brilliant!” said Bill.

“There’d still be a 34% chance we’ll lose a few ships doing that,” said McNully thoughtfully, “but even if we’ll be outgunned and out-manned, the Man O’ Wars should be sabotaged enough that they won’t be able to attack right away. And the explosions we’d get would no doubt give those Navy officers a good scare, which might discourage them from fighting.”

Jacob nodded. “That fleet of larger ships can then keep the Man O’ Wars busy while Captain Farrier-Weasley and I sail the Revolution out to confront the Flying Dutchman. The Revolution’s probably the only ship we have that’s fast enough to compete with the Dutchman in a sea battle.”

“And we’ll need to overpower Jones, if we want to get close enough to Beckett,” said Jules, her dark eyes hard with determination.

“Jones is the Queen in this chess match,” agreed McNully. “He’s the most powerful piece on the board, so if we can topple him, we’ll have a much better chance. If we can then corner the King -- namely, Beckett -- we could use that leverage to win the whole thing.”

Bill and Charlie exchanged a look. Then the elder Weasley spoke up.

“...The plan’s great, Jacob -- but there’s a problem. Captain Hopper said that most of you lot were never soldiers. There’s a lot of training that you have to go through before going out to sea with the British Navy, and there’s just as much protocol you have to follow while you’re there. If one of our men makes a wrong move and gets caught, it could blow the whole ruse.”

“Then maybe we should go, Bill,” said Charlie. “We know the way things work -- we’d be able to blend in -- ”

“Not with that hair, you won’t,” said Merula dully.

“Face Paint is here at the Cove,” pointed out Skye. “They could fix that -- ”

Orion shook his head. “I’m afraid it’s still too risky. The Admiral indicated that Percy Weasley is also on board one of those ships. As much as I don’t think he’d ever wish to harm you, I don’t believe one could fool one’s family that long. And judging by how your last meeting ended,” he glanced at Charlie and Bill solemnly, “one cannot be certain he would choose family loyalty over what he believes is morally right.”

“Yeah, I wager there’s only a 35% chance he wouldn’t try to stop you two, if he saw you,” said McNully with an apologetic look at the Weasley brothers. “Though there is a 25% chance you might collide with Carey Weasley instead, and he could give you a hand...but I don’t think that’s a gamble we should take.”

Ellie’s lips twisted into a frown. “Still...First Mate Weasley’s got a point. It’d be probably best to send someone with the Artemis and the other small ships who already knows how to fit in with the British Navy.”

“If only Captain Moody were still here,” mumbled Barnaby sadly. “He was in the Navy for a long time, before becoming our captain...”

Charlie offered Barnaby a sympathetic look. Jae, however, looked rather thoughtful.

“...I do have...one contact that could be helpful.”

Everyone turned to look at him.

“He’s a bit of a loose cannon,” said Jae, “too impulsive for his own good and bull-headed as all Hell...kind of stupid, really. But he was in the Navy once, and he’s pretty good at working in secrecy. I work with him most often whenever there’s news of the East India Trading Company, since he’s got a contact who’s related to one of their most prominent merchants...”

Merula’s eyebrows furrowed. “...Wait a minute. You’re not suggesting Copper?”

Charlie and Jules both blinked.

“Behemoth Ben Copper?” said Jules in surprise. “The pirate who took out all three masts on an Italian frigate with one cannonball?”

“That’d be him,” said Arjun, and like Merula, he looked a bit skeptical. “Jae, I’m not sure. I don’t mean anything against Ben and all, but...well...it’s like you said, he’s a bit of a loose cannon. Ever since he mutinied against his captain, he’s just gotten more and more reckless -- leaving his crew abruptly with no explanation, rearranging his ship’s route on the fly...”

“He’s been acting weird,” agreed Aishwarya.

“Sounds like he’s the perfect choice, then!”

Everyone turned to look at Skye in bewilderment. Contrary to everyone else’s reactions, however, she looked perfectly undaunted, her lips curled up in a perfectly fearless, white smirk.

“From the sound of things, I’d wager Copper’s caught the same type of ‘weird’ that Orion’s had these last few months,” said Skye, shooting a significant look in her captain’s direction.

“And I reckon that kind of ‘weird’ would boost Copper’s motivation to help us by a good 63%,” said McNully very coolly from Orion’s other side.

Orion tried to feign a mild, patient expression as he bowed his head and avoided his crewmates’ amused looks, but he could not obscure the rosy color that was rising up into his cheeks.

“That settles it, then,” said Bill. “Let’s talk to him.”

Benjamin “Behemoth Ben” Copper did indeed boast an impressive height, being as tall as Bill with a scruffy blond beard almost as long as Jacob’s, a piece cut out of his left ear, and plenty of scars up and down his arms and along the base of his neck. He also came across as rather unpleasant, on first meeting. Although Jules had decided Orion and the Artemis would lead this smaller fleet in their mission, Ben seemed very skeptical of Orion from the off-set and was a bit forceful in trying to assert himself.

“For this mission, may us look to our friends, the cuttlefish, for guidance,” Orion said calmly as he addressed the small team of Navy veteran pirates they’d managed to assemble. “They change their appearance and attitude to blend into their environment, so as to evade the dangerous predators that might hunt them...and so too shall we.”

“The Navy isn’t that dangerous,” said Ben rather coldly.

Everyone turned to look at the much taller man, who was leaning against the back wall with his arms crossed.

Orion regarded him with patience, his hands clasping in front of him. “Not as dangerous as they’d like us to believe, true...but they do still out-gun us quite a bit.”

“That’d be more of a threat if half their new recruits weren’t so scared of the sound of gunfire that they all shut their eyes and can’t aim properly,” said Ben. “It’s not like most of those men have even seen combat like this, since England’s no longer at War.”

Orion didn’t respond, so Ben got up off the wall and strode over to look at him properly.

“Explain to me why we don’t just take down all of the ships ourselves, once we’re on board? We can more than take those lily-livered cowards...”

“We’re not doing that because it’s not the plan we agreed on, Copper,” Skye snapped.

“Skye,” Orion said in a quelling voice without removing his gaze from Ben.

“They’d never expect anyone to actually try attacking them head-on, so the element of surprise will still be there,” Ben plowed on, his brown eyes flashing with righteousness. “I say we just take all of their sailors out, one by one, while that pig Cutler Beckett is too busy gloating to take notice.”

Orion raised his eyebrows. “‘Take them out?’ Oh, no. No, I’m afraid that won’t do.”

“You’re afraid of the ships and their firepower -- but the men on those ships are vulnerable,” Ben said sharply.

“All the more reason to not hurt them more than we have to,” said Orion. “If the Navy’s ships are damaged, most of the sailors on board will still have the time to abandon ship and leave the battle with their lives.”

“Those sailors mean to kill us -- to arrest and hang the ones we love and anyone who’s ever helped us -- ”

“Not all of them,” said Orion, and his patient voice for the first time dipped low into his throat and echoed with some edge. “And because not all of them seek to destroy us and the ones we love, we have more than enough reason to not destroy them ourselves. The ships are what we fear, as you said -- they are our enemy, not the men on board -- and without that weapon of theirs, those sailors will be unable to inflict the damage we fear.”

Ben’s brown eyes bore into Orion’s very critically. Then, exhaling through his nose in a short huff, he reluctantly nodded and stepped back.

Orion turned to Face Paint. “We’ll need to make sure all of our men look like they belong among the Navy’s ranks.”

Face Paint grinned. “Don’t worry! I’ve got this.”

With some guidance from the ex-veterans on the Navy’s usual dress code, Face Paint got to work covering up scars with make-up and dressing the team accordingly. Fortunately, unlike the British army, Navy soldiers generally had more freedom in how they dressed, so long as their clothes were neat and conservative. Once Face Paint was finished, Orion had a team of about eleven men who looked as out of place on Shipwreck Cove as he himself had looked on the streets of Port Royal.

Before Orion left with the Artemis and the rest of the fleet of small ships, however, Jacob rather sharply stepped in front of him and insisted on speaking to him in private. Skye and McNully looked notably concerned, but Orion agreed, and the two stepped aside so no one else could hear them.

“Don’t think I don’t know why you’re doing this,” Jacob murmured.

Orion raised his eyebrows, even though his expression remained grimly unreadable. “It was your plan, to send the smaller ships to infiltrate the Navy’s Man O’ Wars.”

“I was not including you when I said that!” snapped Jacob.

He took an aggressive step forward, right into Orion’s personal bubble.

“I know why you’re doing it, Amari, and it’s not just because Captain Farrier-Weasley asked you to be in charge of that mission,” he said in a very low snarl, rather like that of a territorial dog.

Orion’s eyes grew a little smaller, but remained too murky to read properly. “I daresay my reasoning is the same as why you arranged it so that you would be on the ship facing off against the Flying Dutchman.”

“Do not compare my motives with yours!” said Jacob fiercely, as his skull-like eyes flared like flames. “I don’t care what you feel for my Wyn -- you could never understand what she means to me! I would and will do anything I have to in order to protect her -- ”

“I know,” Orion cut Jacob off as calmly as he could. “I could never understand the bond you two share.”

His dark eyes flickered with a strange emotion.

“...But...I do understand what a beacon she is -- how, like a candle, she can light up a room enough to comfort you, when you’re most frightened. How the soft, warm light she gives off is for you alone...how the embers she leaves behind burn long after her light has left you. How she’ll...drain herself of whatever strength she has...just to make sure you don’t despair.”

Something cracked in Jacob’s eyes, betraying genuine vulnerability. A vein pulsed in his jaw and his hands clenched into fists at his sides.

Orion clasped his hands in front of him, regarding Jacob with a grim, sad expression.

“Care --...your sister...is a truly remarkable woman. She always has been, from the day I ended up on your doorstep back in Port Royal all those years ago. I can’t say for sure that I’ve loved her since then, but...when we found each other again, I realized that the freedom I have on the high seas is superficial at best...for I wasn’t free to stay with her...no more than she’s free to follow me. If she stays with Cutler Beckett...if she ends up impressed into service on the Flying Dutchman...”

Jacob’s fists clenched tighter and started to shake. Orion’s eyes rippled with pain and anxiety as he closed them.

“I can’t do nothing while Carewyn loses what little freedom she has left,” the taller captain burst out before he could stop himself. “However cruel Jones is in the legends I’ve heard, I know first-hand Cutler Beckett is a crueler master than he could ever be.”

He ran his pointer and middle finger alongside the inside of his wrist, where the “P” brand shone a tense white on his tanned skin. He breathed in and out through his nose slowly to try to calm his heart rate, before he opened his eyes to look back at Jacob.

“...I know our methods are different, but our goal is the same. Although I hope you succeed in overcoming Jones and force him to release her...I’m sure you understand why I have to take measures in case you don’t.”

Jacob’s eyes narrowed upon Orion’s face, but for the first time, there was confusion muddled with the distrust.

“I already told you that Jones won’t care if my Wyn gets married and takes on another name,” he said quietly. “He said she’d still be considered a Cromwell.”

Orion’s dark eyes softened sadly. “I know.”

Jacob’s eyes scrunched up further. Then they widened as he thought of something he hadn’t before. The thought made his face go very white.

“You...”

Orion did not respond, but Jacob knew he’d figured out what Orion was thinking. It made his fists shake at his sides and his pupils narrow to slits.

‘He’s...truly that selfless?’

Jacob didn’t want to believe it. He couldn’t believe that this man loved his sister that much.

Despite himself, he couldn’t help but lash out.

“...I do not give my blessing to this! I don’t care what sincere affect you dance around with, I will never trust you with my Wyn’s heart, Amari! You could never deserve my sister!”

But Orion’s features merely prickled with the hints of a smile. "I know.”

Jacob gave an aggravated sigh, throwing his hand up in a violent smack at the air, as he threw his head back and rolled his eyes up in the direction of the ceiling.

He wanted to hate this man so much, but it was proving difficult when he wouldn’t rise to anything he said. He wanted him to fight back, to get mad -- then he could feel justified in protecting Carewyn from him...

But in truth, Jacob knew -- this man wasn’t someone to protect Carewyn from. Truthfully...he knew this man would likely do just as much to protect Carewyn as he would...

Jacob’s hollowed-out eyes ran over Orion’s face, narrowing critically. Then, at last, he said,

“...You were the boy, weren’t you? The one Wyn hid under her floorboards.”

Orion’s eyes flickered with fondness and he inclined his head in a small nod. Jacob inhaled slowly through his nose and then exhaled very heavily.

“I will stop Jones,” he said very lowly. “So your 'measures’ won’t be necessary.”

With this, Carewyn’s brother turned on his heel and strode away, his black boots clapping against the cobblestones as he went.

As the pirates set their plan into motion, Carewyn herself was finishing up business on the Flying Dutchman. She was meant to remain on the HMS Lion with Beckett for the battle, but she insisted on speaking to all of her men on the ship and leaving proper instruction before departing. After all, the Admiral argued, even if Rakepick was staying on board, she was not a Naval officer, nor was she their commanding officer. It also was the excuse Carewyn needed to speak to Davy Jones privately.

Jones looked to be in a fairer mood than she’d seen him last. Carewyn wasn’t sure for the reason for it, but she hoped it wasn’t in response to the impending battle. Regardless of how Jones felt about the pirates and Shipwreck Cove, she dreaded the thought of anyone actually anticipating the battle. Instead, however, she reassured Jones that she would pass along whatever intelligence she gathered about where Rakepick had hidden his heart.

“I know Rakepick said she was out for herself, but there are only so many places she could’ve hidden it,” she said. “Port Royal is out of the question: it couldn’t be used as any sort of leverage there. So she either one, was lying and has it close by somewhere on the Dutchman...or two, Beckett does know where it is, but Rakepick plans to backstab him.”

“I suspect the former,” said Jones lowly, his dark eyes narrowing as he shot a glance out the stained-glass window of the cabin. “I can feel my heart’s presence, so it must be close.”

Carewyn inclined her head slightly. “I see. In that case, you might be able to retrieve it yourself. I’m sorry I can’t be of further help.”

She paused. Then, taking a deep breath, she spoke again.

“Captain Jones, time is not on our side...but something’s been bothering me. When I first agreed to help you, you knew my real name, without me having told you. You said that was because you know everyone’s true name, but...”

She considered him warily.

“...It’s also because...you know my older brother...don’t you?”

Jones’s eyes narrowed. He considered her for a long moment, before he gave a clipped nod.

“...Aye. I know him.”

Carewyn’s heart sank. ‘Then Rakepick was right -- Jacob did make a deal with Jones. That must be why Orion said Jacob ‘would be disappointed’ -- ’

“...What does he owe you?”

Jones, for the first time, looked almost evasive. He turned away, casting his eyes to the opposite wall as he took a few plodding steps away.

Carewyn watched him move, her arms which had been folded behind her back slackening at her sides.

“Captain Jones, please,” she said, and some desperation echoed in her voice despite her best efforts, “I already might not have enough power to protect him from Beckett, I have to know what debt he might have with you.”

Jones was quiet for a moment longer. When he finally spoke again, his voice was very low, reluctant...even regretful.

“...The price...was a lifetime of service, from a member of his family.”

Carewyn’s eyes widened.

‘A lifetime of service...?’

Jacob’s intense, anxious reaction to the death of Charles and Blaise suddenly made sense.

‘He must’ve meant to give one of them to Jones,’ Carewyn’s mind raced. ‘Could he really have agreed to something like that -- enslave Grandfather or Blaise to Jones?’

Unfortunately it didn’t sound completely out-of-character for Jacob -- for as much as she’d hated Charles Cromwell and resented Blaise, Carewyn knew her feelings paled in the face of Jacob’s. Not only had he been older and thus forced to do more of their dirty work, but he’d also always loathed how much they hurt Carewyn when they were young, both to keep him in line and in a cruel attempt to “toughen her up.”

But now...now Blaise and Charles were dead. All of the Cromwells -- Jacob’s family -- were dead...except for...

Carewyn’s face was very white. Her lips came together and she bowed her head, casting her eyes into shadow.

“...I see,” she whispered, her voice shakier than she’d intended.

‘This is why Orion and Jacob want me off the Dutchman. Because I’m the only one who can fill Jacob’s debt.’

Jones glanced over his shoulder, his dark eye oddly ashamed.

“He did it out of love for you,” he said very quietly. “I confess, before we met, I’d seen irony in the situation. Now...I wish I could excuse the debt, but...”

Jones swallowed, and the tentacles of his beard gave a series of low pops.

“...Magical contracts...are not so easily broken. Once someone is marked with the Black Spot, the terms will be met, whether I want them to be or not. Fate will maneuver itself in such a way that you end up as part of my crew, even if I actively decide not to take you. As long as your brother and I both live...the terms are etched in stone.”

Jones then strode back over, fixing Carewyn with a solemn eye.

“Unless...you wanted to make a deal yourself? One soul could be comparable to another.”

Carewyn closed her eyes and considered this. After a long moment, she swallowed, and shook her head.

“That’s not something I can give you,” she whispered.

Jones’s eyes grew a little smaller as he faced the door. “I thought you might say that.”

He paused. His claw clicked together at his side.

“I...lament that a noble soul like yours is doomed to remain with me,” he murmured. “I will do my best to take care of you, as part of my crew.”

With another set of plodding steps, Jones walked over to the door of the cabin, opened it, and left.

Carewyn’s knees buckled out from under her. She collapsed onto the bench in front of the massive organ, staring down at her own booted feet without even seeing them.

She couldn’t thrust this burden on anyone else. How could she? No matter who they were...no one deserved to live their life in servitude. Carewyn knew she would never be able to live with herself, doing something so cruel...but...

It...it wasn’t fair! It wasn’t fair! She’d already had to resign herself to the knowledge that she couldn’t shield the others from Beckett -- she’d already had to resign herself to staying under Beckett’s foot. Not only was she helpless in helping the ones she loved escape Beckett...but now...once she was a member of Jones’s crew...she would likely never see any of them again. She’d never be able to make that world that they deserved -- a world where they could live free of the fear of being captured and hanged...a world where they could live and chase their dreams in peace.

She’d never see Orion again. She’d never see Jacob again. She’d never see Bill again. She’d never see Charlie again. She’d never see Jules or Percy again.

Carewyn took a sharp intake of breath, trying to contain her emotions, but it was no use. Her hands flew to her face, clutching desperately, as she tried in vain to suffocate the tears spilling out of her eyes and the sobs erupting out of her throat.

Little did Carewyn know that a red-haired woman much taller than her had been beside the window of the captain’s cabin and had heard the entire conversation.

Under the cover of the fog that swept in that night, Orion’s team of Navy veteran pirates split up and stowed away aboard the Navy’s ships, each carrying one of the hundred black barrels of highly explosive black powder Jae had prepared for them. They would then be able to fetch more from one of the many sloops, ketches, and schooners floating among the armada the rest of the night.

As luck would have it, Ben boarded a ship that turned out to be the HMS Lion itself. He was glad of it, as he was determined to make sure that Beckett could never target anyone else again. Unfortunately, as soon as Ben arrived on board the ship, he was immediately uneasy. No one had spotted him arrive, but this ship wasn’t like any of the ships he’d seen during his time with the Navy. Everything was so unusually clean and precise and brand new, as if none of it had been touched -- and stranger still, all of the sailors, from their perfectly polished gold-buckled shoes to their blue and white uniforms to their gold-trimmed black tricorn hats, looked as identical as a set of dolls.

Little did Ben know that Cutler Beckett had higher standards of uniformity for the ship he was on than he did any of the other ships in his armada -- and so, even perfectly disguised as an ordinary sailor, Ben stood out like a sore thumb.

“You there!” said one of the lieutenants, upon spotting Ben on the staircase down to the lower decks. “Where’s your uniform, sailor?”

Ben faltered. ‘Uniform? Regular sailors don’t wear -- ’

He immediately put down the barrel he’d been carrying and turned around, putting on his strongest face as he stood up perfectly straight and saluted.

“...I’m only a new recruit, sir. I have no rank.”

“All sailors on the HMS Lion were given a custom uniform, when first they were selected by Lord Beckett,” snapped the lieutenant, his black eyes narrowing suspiciously upon the much taller man. “I ask you again -- where is yours?”

Ben immediately guessed that he’d made a huge mistake. Knowing that if he didn’t do something drastic, he’d blow the whole operation, his hand slid down to the pistol in his belt. Did he dare silence the man by force? Would that not alert the rest of the ship?

“What’s going on here?”

Another officer -- this one with a ginger red ponytail and almond-shaped blue eyes -- came down from the helm and over to the two men.

“A-Admiral Weasley!” said the lieutenant, straightening up immediately.

‘Admiral?’ thought Ben. ‘Then this is Carey Weasley?’

His brown eyes narrowed upon the frame of the Navy’s greatest hero.

'...He’s so...tiny.’

Carewyn looked from the lieutenant to Ben, her blue eyes narrowing.

“Ah, I suppose Captain Weasley’s sent over another new recruit,” she said smoothly. “Where is this man’s uniform, Lieutenant?”

“That -- I just asked that, sir,” the lieutenant stumbled over his words.

“Respectfully, I hope,” said Carewyn rather pointedly.

“That -- well -- I merely thought it was suspicious. We normally are all given uniforms, prior to boarding -- I hadn’t known that Captain Weasley was sending over any...”

The lieutenant looked a bit sheepish. It was remarkable how he looked and sounded so much more boyish around the Admiral, compared to how harsh and suspicious he’d sounded when he addressed Ben.

“No matter, Lieutenant,” said Carewyn, giving the young man a soft smile. “You thought of the safety of our ship and crew. That’s the right instinct to have, despite the circumstances.”

She turned to Ben, her eyes becoming a bit more solemn.

“What’s your name, sailor?”

“Cooper, sir,” Ben said at once, giving a salute. “Gordon Cooper.”

“Well, Mr. Cooper, you’d best come with me, before Lord Beckett sees you out of uniform. He likes his flag ship run just so.”

And so Ben reluctantly followed the Admiral down to the ship’s lower level and into the cargo hold. She fetched him a blue and white Navy uniform, but rather than just leaving Ben to put it on himself, she insisted on helping him put it on properly.

“I told you, Lord Beckett likes things just so,” she said. “I will not have any sailor under my command end up on the wrong side of him.”

“I can put on a bloody shirt,” Ben said before he could stop himself.

“See that you do, then,” said Carewyn very coolly.

Ben watched, perfectly bewildered, as the Admiral hung the blue coat she’d set aside for him off of a nail sticking out of one of the beams of the ship and smoothed the wrinkles out of it.

With a dull snort, he pulled the faded red shirt and brown trousers Face Paint had dressed him in up over his head and switched it out for the white Navy breeches, stockings, and shirt he’d been given. He tried to keep his back to Carewyn, so as to obscure the scars on his upper chest and arms.

As he changed, Ben suddenly realized he heard a soft, husky voice humming a tune in the back of their throat.

“Now some have died, and some are alive...and others...sail on the sea...”

Ben straightened up sharply.

“...With the keys to the cage and the Devil to pay,” he echoed, “we lay to Fiddler’s Green.”

He turned around to look at Carewyn, who still had her back to him.

“So you are allied with us,” he said under his breath.

Carewyn glanced over her shoulder, raising an eyebrow. “‘So?’ You sound like someone already told you that, previously.”

“Two people, actually,” Ben corrected her, crossing his arms. “Orion Amari, for one. The other...”

He glanced off to the side absently, his brown eyes growing a bit mistier at the thought.

“...She...has family who works for the East India Trading Company. While one of their ships was docked in Port Royal, she’d spoken to some of the prisoners awaiting execution...and though most of them were no state to talk, the ones who were expressed their admiration for Carey Weasley -- how he was the only person on the Dutchman who showed them any kindness.”

The thought of Wendy’s face as she described what the prisoners had told her made Ben’s heart clench.

“...That kind of decency...was something I thought the Navy lost long ago.”

Carewyn’s eyes grew a little smaller and grimmer as they fell down onto Ben’s shoulder.

“I’m afraid it has, for the most part,” she said softly, “but only because of those currently in command. Our men are still good men...just misguided.”

Ben couldn’t keep the disbelieving, resentful glare from his face. He strode past Carewyn to fetch the blue coat, but the Admiral bustled in front of him, fetched a gold-buttoned white vest, and set about slipping it over Ben’s shirt.

“Here -- you’ll need this, first.”

Ben’s mouth dropped open in bewilderment and irritation.

“Wha -- oh, come on, I’m not some little lost lamb!”

“Definitely not,” said Carewyn dryly. “You’re anything but ‘little.’“

She started buttoning up Ben’s vest. The pirate gave an aggravated groan.

“Seriously? Ugh...will you knock it off? You’re acting like my mother -- ”

“Well, you’re acting like a child, so I reckon that’s appropriate,” Carewyn shot back. She then added a bit more solemnly, “Look, I can’t help Orion, Bill, and the others while I’m stuck here...but I can help you help them. So that’s what I intend to do, whether you like it or not.”

Ben’s face darkened with an embarrassed flush as he looked away, shooting daggers into the far corner with his eyes, while Carewyn finished buttoning up his vest.

“I should probably help you trim your beard too,” said Carewyn absently. “Navy men don’t wear beards much these days, even when they’re not officers...”

“I don’t need you to trim my beard,” Ben said grumpily. “I can shave myself.”

“Oh, you don’t believe in the old superstition, then. Good...I’ve had to shave some of my men’s faces for them, so that Beckett wouldn’t give them a hard time for looking scruffy...”

Ah, then it was about reassuring the men who were too superstitious to shave on board so they could still follow Beckett’s dress code, more than simple smothering. That made Ben feel a bit better.

“...Hm, well...I suppose I have been meaning to cut it a bit anyway...”

Once Carewyn had finished buttoning up Ben’s vest, she adjusted his collar.

“When did you leave the Navy?” she asked without looking at his face.

Ben considered her for a moment before answering.

“...Four years ago. I’d gone to sea to try to rise above my station...to earn enough money that I could...well...improve my prospects. But I ended up on board a ship with a captain who sacrificed the lives of his own men, not to protect the innocent, but to protect a ship he held financial stock in. A ship owned by Cutler Beckett, transporting gold, spices, ivory, and slaves to the colonies.”

Carewyn was immediately reminded of Orion. “So you rebelled.”

“Not right away,” Ben corrected. “I tried to have the captain court-marshalled first. But the Navy only gave him a light talking-to and left it at that. They didn’t remove him from service or strip him of his rank, or even publicly reprimand him -- he was allowed to just go about his business like before. And worse, he knew I was the one who’d reported him -- so he ended up retaliating against me, since he was still my commanding officer. I, well...eventually I just got fed up -- so I stopped cowering and fought back.”

Carewyn’s light blue eyes narrowed. “I see. ...You did the right thing.”

Ben’s face seemed to soften slightly. “...Thanks. It hasn’t always felt like the right thing.”

“Sometimes it doesn’t.”

Carewyn fetched the blue coat and helped Ben put it on. This time, he didn’t put up as much of a fuss, even though he considered Carewyn with a more critical, solemn expression.

“Why haven’t you fought back against Beckett?” he asked lowly. “You know what he’s doing is wrong.”

“If I were to fight now, I’d lose,” said Carewyn, “and if I lose, then the ones I love will be in more danger than ever.”

‘My future is already out of my reach. My freedom is already out of reach. If anything happened to them...I’d lose the best part of myself.’

“... I need to wait for the right moments where I can actually make a difference...like this one, for instance,” she added with a slight smile.

Ben’s eyes grew a little smaller as he studied her face.

“...It’s hard for you to stay silent, isn’t it?”

Carewyn didn’t respond, but her eyes squinted a bit too, rippling with a dark emotion as she yanked a loose thread free of Ben’s coat and adjusted the buttons.

“There,” she said at last. “Don’t forget your hat, when you’re out on deck.”

She handed a gold-trimmed black tricorn hat to him, but Ben didn’t put it on, instead holding it loose at his side.

“I won’t be on deck long,” he said. “I’ll be here below deck most of the time...I’ll be gone by dawn.”

Carewyn blinked. Then her whole face seemed to light up in realization.

“...Sabotage,” she whispered. Her almond-shaped blue eyes were almost over-bright. “Black Jack Roberts planned this, didn’t he?”

Ben was startled. “Uh...yeah, he did.”

‘Oh, that’s just like Jacob! He’s always been brilliant...’

Carewyn’s eyes gleamed with warm, intense pride and fondness as she cast her gaze aside.

Ben looked at Carewyn curiously. “...You know Black Jack?”

Carewyn beamed. “Oh, aye -- we go way back.”

“How far back?”

“We grew up together.”

‘I don’t need to explain how we’re related,’ thought Carewyn. ‘If Orion didn’t feel the need to tell him my real name, I don’t have to...it’s not exactly necessary information.’

Carewyn’s response, however, sparked an interesting reaction from Ben. Almost instantly, his hard, overly serious expression had become much softer and warmer, betraying a genuine smile.

“Really...”

The faintest ghost of a laugh seemed to fall from his lips as he bowed his head, his eyes drifting down to the ground. Carewyn smiled slightly in return.

“Now then, Mr. Cooper...I’ll leave you to your work. The barracks are on the lower deck on the starboard side of the ship,” she nodded to the the hallway behind them, “and the officers’ quarters are just up the stairs from there. The walls are thin and most of the officers will be up and about doing nightly rounds, so be careful not to make too much noise. If they catch you ‘out of bed,’ do as they say and pretend to go to your bunk -- you can always use the shortcut that goes through the spirit room on the far right wall to get back out into the hallway without going out the way you came. When you’re up on deck, avoid the windows by the captain’s cabin at all cost -- Beckett can be up when you least expect it, and if he sees any movement outside his windows, he might see fit to investigate. I’ll try to keep the other officers occupied at the helm as much as I can, so they don’t notice you.”

Ben picked up his barrel again with a nod. “Thank you.”

Carewyn saluted him, and he returned the gesture with his arm not holding the barrel.

“By the way,” he added, “the name’s Copper, not Cooper. Ben Copper.”

Carewyn’s lips spread into a full smile. “Nice to meet you.”

She reached out and took hold of the taller man’s shoulder, giving it an abridged squeeze.

“Godspeed...and best of luck.”

By dawn, Ben had finished his preparations and left the HMS Lion, slipping onto the Artemis so that it could sail away before the fog dissipated. Ben had been the last one to finish and return to the fleet, so Skye had expressed the (rather irritable) concern the crew felt that Ben might have gotten himself caught. Ben confessed that he would’ve if it hadn’t been for the Admiral, and told them what had happened. Orion hadn’t said a word or drawn any attention to himself during the entire recounting, so Ben couldn’t have taken into account how the captain turned his focus up to the large, gold-trimmed Navy ship as they sailed away from it. Neither he nor McNully also never heard Orion pull one of his crew members aside and give him one of his gold earrings, explicitly instructing him to deliver it to Jules.

“She’ll need it, for the unbinding ceremony,” he said.

At dawn, the two Navies -- Royal and Pirate -- assembled for war. All of the Britiwhs Navy’s ships got into position, completely unaware of the trap that lay under their decks. The fleet of the pirates’ galleons and brigs -- including the Phoenix, Blackbird, Naga, and Treasure -- came up around the mouth of Shipwreck Cove like a wall, while the Revolution -- captained by Jules and assisted by her First Mate Bill, Jacob, and Ashe -- sailed out in front as the pirates’ flagship.

In the midst of all of this, the fleet of smaller ships were meant to retreat into the ranks of the larger ships, so as to offer support if any of the large ships were to fall and their crews needed to be rescued. But all of a sudden, the crew of the Artemis realized that Orion was nowhere to be found. Panic set in on deck as they searched for him, with crew members all frantically trying to figure out when they saw him last. It didn’t take long for McNully to put together where Orion had gone.

McNully wheeled his chair across the deck, looking with anxiety up at the HMS Lion, sailing just to the right of the Flying Dutchman.

Bounding up through the ocean waves still trimmed with fog, he caught sight of Orion steering the Artemis’s jollyboat into the Navy ship’s shadow.

Skye came up to the railing too. When she caught sight of the jollyboat too, she violently grabbed hold of the railing, her eyes very wide with horror.

“What’s he DOING?!”

“He’s going after the Admiral,” said McNully.

“The Admiral?” said Ben, his eyebrows knitting together in confusion.

Skye looked beside herself with anger and concern. “No, no, no, no, NO! Orion, you bloody dunce! Just because I said that your and Copper’s kind of ‘weird’ was helpful at the meeting doesn’t mean I wanted you to act on it in the middle of the goddamned battle!”

She whirled on McNully.

“We have to stop him! He’s going to get himself caught again -- ”

“There’s only a 21.3% chance of that,” McNully cut her off. “It’s a bit hard to be caught and stay caught when a sea battle is about to kick off. There’s a higher probability of him getting himself killed...”

The First Mate felt the urge to swear both out of frustration and out of anxiety, but he kept his head. He rolled his chair around to face the rest of the crew.

“Signal to the Kumiho and the rest of the fleet to continue with the retreat,” he told them. “We’re going after him.”

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