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elsanna-shenanigans · 3 years

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April Contest Submission #10: Green Like Flowers

Words: ca. 4,000 Setting: Modern AU Lemon: No CW: mild angst

The train whistled as it left the station. A piercing scream, cutting through the dewy darkness of early morning. Birds, startled awake from their nightly slumber, took to the sky. Fleeing like their wings were on fire, up and away from branches that were all but safe a few moments before. Their small black bodies quickly lost to a sky that had not yet been kissed by an unforgiving sun.

The engine chugged, rhythmically turning large, cold steel wheels. Pulling both itself and its posy of railcars along with it. Quickly picking up speed, outside one of the windows; a dog ran alongside the tracks. His tongue hanging outside his large muzzle, flopping with each bounding leap. He ran on a well-worn path, a frequent activity. The further the train went, the more he fell behind until Elsa could no longer see him. So too did the path fade. Giving way to leaf-covered ground and sparse trees. The click-clack of the train melted into nothing, like the ocean waves when one lives by the sea.

Elsa Settled into her seat but dared not to rest. Her mind racing fasting then the landscape outside the window. The train was still mostly empty, many seats were vacant. She glanced around, taking everything in without fear of looking creepy. The floor was carpet tiles, frayed on every edge but free of at least large debris. The seats, two on each side of the aisle, were a worn blue fabric. Each headrest was adorned with stark white doctor’s table paper. Fluorescent lightbulbs of varying shades of white and yellow had been illuminating the narrow walkways, now dimmed. Allowing the high-backed seats to cast long shadows.

A few rows back an older man sat slouched in his seat, his fedora, which had seen better days, was pulled down to cover his eyes. The ghost of a beard was painted across a jaw held tight by clenched teeth. Next to him, an older woman sat, knitting with the speed of a youth long past. She was counting to herself or perhaps singing. Her thin lips moving in unison with dancing needles. So the yarn was tugged and so too the corners of her mouth.

In another row a small child was fast asleep, curled into his’s mother’s side. The woman’s head tilted back, mouth agape. She wore what looked to be a brand new hoodie, a large sports logo plastered across the chest. It wasn’t a team Elsa recognized, the child shifted slightly, and they too wore a matching hoodie.

Elsa turned back so she was facing forward once more. She glanced out the smudged windows to see the faintest hint of light, peeking over the horizon. And she took a moment to marvel at the fact she had to travel North, then West, then South, then West again just to reach the opposite coast. All the years of human advancements and there still wasn’t a train that simply went East to West. Instead, it zig-zagged across rivers, over the plains, and through mountains.

A movement to her left caused her to turn. A man about her age sat restlessly in his seat. Large headphones completely engulfed his ears. One hand clutching a phone, the other gesturing wildly through the air - pointer finger and thumb fully extended with the remaining fingers ever so slightly curved inward. His voice was barely above a whisper, Elsa had to strain to hear the words which were choppy, loose, but forever moving forward like a rushing stream over stones.

Just then the door between cars slid open, spilling the outside in. Chains rattled, wind blew, the click-clack of the track demanded attention. And standing there, a young ember, sparking as intense eyes surveyed the nearly empty train car before settling on Elsa and finally flicking to the seat next to her. The door closed as if in agreement and the woman floated over. Two copper veins of braids framed a speckled face. She smiled and sat down without asking.

“I’m Anna,” she said, it wasn’t a comment or an introduction, it was a commanding statement. She was Anna and whoever she was, Elsa had no choice but to deal with the sudden intrusion.

“Elsa.” She replied, trying to match the other’s tone.

This earned a nod from Anna, her head tipping back, chin raised for a brief moment before landing in neutral again. Silence settled like a heavy fog. Elsa was never good at small talk. Through the defining silence, she heard the ticking of knitting needles and soft rap lyrics start again. Nothing from the mother or child, this new woman’s entrance had not been enough to wake them from slumber.

“Where are you headed?” Anna asked, keeping her voice low.

“San Francisco,” Elsa replied, trying to ignore how much the woman’s eyes stabbed right through her.

“Oh what?!?” she paused to take a breath and bring her volume back down. “I’m going there too, maybe we can be train buddies!”

And suddenly the flames that protected the young woman from the outside world parted and Elsa saw, not a commanding bitch of a woman, but an innocence - a kindness that she hadn’t seen in a person in a long time.

“Buddies,” Elsa repeated slowly as if tasting the word for the first time.

This earned another smile from Anna, who had either not noticed Elsa’s lack of enthusiasm or chose to ignore it.

“Well it’s what like, 15 days to get from here,” she pointed beyond Elsa to the series of trees whipping past the window. “Aaaall the way over to there. So I think, it would be nice to have someone to talk to, have meals with, maybe exchange playlists…”

“I mean I don’t know,” she pulled her arms in like pulling a trenchcoat closed. She dared not to let the demons out nor let any new evil in. She hated meeting new people, hated that period of time when stupid questions are asked. Hated, even more, when the friendship was temporary, formed for convenience rather than growth. Why spend all that time putting cereal in a bowl piece by price only to find out theres no milk.

Elsa was not yet old in the traditional sense, but she had lived many lifetimes. Broken enough hearts and had enough hearts be broken, both from love and friendship, to waste even more hourglass sand on the freckled book in the seat next to hers.

“No offense but I don’t really know you.”

Anna laughed, a full-bellied laugh that had her eye squeezed shut and her head tipped back against the paper covering the headrest. Elsa felt her face start to numb and fought the urge to bounce her leg. Her teeth sank into her bottom lip and she turned her head to study the trees.

“We can be train buddies while we get to know each other. Like, we might as well anyway, seeing as we’re going to be seeing a lot of each other anyways.”

Elsa didn’t turn her head, “It is a long train.”

“Yes and no, the length? Sure. But there’s the cargo cars, the sleeper cars, the dining cars, the private cars, and THEN there’s the passenger cars like this one. Sooo I think I’m gucci when I say; we’ll be seeing a lot of each other.”

“Gucci?” Elsa turned, pulled by the odd choice of word. She was met with yet another smile from her unwanted companion and she regretted turning at all.

“Yeah you know, ‘it’s gucci’ or ‘it’s all good’ same thing.” Anna shrugged but otherwise didn’t move, oblivious to Elsa’s inner turmoil and discomfort, instead, she used this as an opening. Like a racer who finally found a way to pass the leader.

“So, let’s just get all the weird basic stuff out of the way. I’m Anna like I said. I’m from Tennessee, born there, lived there, and went to school there. My favorite color is green. I don’t have any pets or siblings. My parents are divorced but they kinda get along. And I fly drones and do photos for realtors. In my spare time, I like watching movies and pretending to read.”

Behind them, the child resting against his mother stirred, his muffed words, likely exaggerated, were somehow loud enough to be heard over everything else. When his mother didn’t respond, he yawned louder till she awoke will a start. Immediately the child leapt up and took off running towards the door Anna came through. Elsa feared he would open it but he waited, bouncing on his heels till his mother, groggy with sleep and not yet aware of the world, shuffled over. Together they disappeared through the door.

“Aaaand you?” Anna asked. Elsa sighed, the reprieve caused by the commotion had ended and she found herself backed into a corner. She had to at least give some answer or she feared the girl would never leave.

“I’m Elsa, I am from the East Coast. I have a master’s degree. I enjoy the color blue.”

A few beats passed, the train clicking along the tracks. The sun was higher now, its warm beams reaching out at greedy fingers, casting golden whispers within the other girl’s braids.

“Wait, that’s it?”

“Yes.”

“I told you so much more. Are you one of the people who can’t open up and I have to ask a bunch of questions to get them to talk?”

Elsa flinched, she was one of those people. But she didn’t like being called out so directly like that.

Anna smirked, catching the flinch. “I’ll make it less of an interrogation and more of an exchange, so it’s not so scary, alright?”

Elsa nodded, it was actually a good solution to this trap she was in, as much as it pained her to admit that.

“I’m moving to San Francisco or the outskirts at least. What about you?”

“More or less, the same.”

“I have a job lined up with a big real estate firm downtown, I start at the end of the month. And you?”

“At the end of the month, I will be starting my job as well.”

Anna sighed and shifted in her seat, readying a new approach like a hunter with a spear. “So why the train?”

Elsa felt her face redden and she mumbled a quick “I just felt like it.”

And in the spear went, embedded deep within. Its jagged backwards teeth holding it in place. It wasn’t a good answer. It was a very bad answer, one that said too much without saying much at all.

“Oh come on, that’s not an answer!” Anna waited a beat for Elsa to answer before pressing further. “So I’ll ask again, why the train? And this time, no mumbling, I need you to say it… out loud.”

Elsa exhaled through her nose. And opened her mouth to speak before closing it again. She was at the crossroads of telling a stranger a lie or speaking the truth into existence for the first time. Giving a name to the shadow of guilt that hung over her, maybe it would let go and take with it this spear. Maybe still the light that so gently clung, in a smooth loving caress to Anna’s skin would, if only for a moment, grant her one kiss of its warmth. And so she chose the path, and took a deep breath, and pushed forward.

“I left my husband at the altar. I packed as much as I could into a few pieces of luggage, and hopped on the first train headed west.”

For once, since their meeting, Anna was quiet and Elsa suddenly felt the need to fill the silence.

“I left him my car and anything I didn’t pack, like the dog and my piano. I quit my pointless job as an actuarial analyst via email right before I boarded the train.”

Anna exhaled loudly and blinked purposely a few times before speaking, “You.. wow. Just left everything behind huh?”

“I wanted to get out of town quickly. I couldn’t breathe.” Elsa tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

“So you chose probably the slowest mode of transportation to go across the entire country, just because you ‘felt like it’?”

“I figured it would be a fun adventure and give me time to think.”

Anna laughed, “You mean to brood?”

“I didn’t say that”

“Come on Elsa, you weren’t seriously going to mope and look dramatically out the window for 2 weeks were you?”

“Well, when you put it like that, I guess not.”

“Meaning, yes Anna I was but you called me out on it and now I don’t know what to say. Right?”

Elsa made a face, she had known this woman for less than an hour and she was already so far in her head that Elsa might as well charge her rent. But saying her, what she now saw as reckless and impulsive plan, out loud was freeing.

She felt warmth on the back of her neck and turned back to the window to see the sunlight set fire to a field of corn. Brown wispy tops of long green stocks danced in waves, long endless rows bent and swayed. A lone tree in the middle of the field broke the pattern, the stalks that had come to worship at its feet paid the price for being in the shade. They were shorter and more sparse, yet the further from the tree, the more they grew. The further away from the city, the train went, the more Elsa felt like those corn stalks away from the tree.

+++

The dining car was busier, packed full of life and people. All of whom were in various states of dress. Some sporting loose-fitting sweats, wiping sleep from their eyes. Others in formal business attire, already on their third cup of coffee and 7th morning briefing. The clicking of their keyboards and monotone voices of video calls faded into the conglomerate of sounds contained in the frankly small space.

“Can I get you ladies anything this morning?” a younger woman in uniform asked, she placed two small, single-page menus in front of Elsa and Anna, who each sat on opposite sides of a small booth.

“A coffee and some toast, please.” Elsa handed the menu back, she hadn’t bothered looking, it was a simple basic order that she never struggled to find anywhere she went.

“Umm,” Anna on the other hand was scanning the menu up and down, trying to decide. “Orange juice and a coffee and a bagel with butter instead of cream cheese. Please!” the woman smiled and took her menu, continuing down the row.

It wasn’t long before the food and drinks arrived. Elsa put one sugar in her coffee and sipped it slowly. Outside the large, clean, windows of the dining car, there were vast sprawling fields. It had been only a few days since Anna became her companion and nearly that entire time, the train had seemed to be continually chugging through the same boring field. So much for seeing the country.

Anna dumped several packets of sugar and a few creams into her coffee before taking a large swig and chasing the hot liquid with orange juice. She made a face and busied herself with her bagel.

This is how their mornings went, and it was a comfortable enough routine.

+++

“So listen,” Anna said. They were back in their seats in the passenger car. “The next stop is going to be a long one, apparently there’s a delay further up the tracks and they’re holding us at this next station for a few hours.”

“Yes, I know this. I heard the announcement too.” Elsa mused

“Yeah ok but listen, they said 4 plus hours right? So I googled things around there and I found this!” she handed Elsa her phone, on it was a photo of a waterfall with text below that mentioned a hiking trail.

“I don’t hike, plus I don’t think we have time anyway.” “We wouldn’t BUT! This,” she jabbed the phone screen. “Is a 10-minute walk from the station. See it’s part of a hiking trail but the station itself is a rest stop for the trail. So we’re going.”

There was that commanding presence coming out again. If the waterfall was so close to the station itself, Anna did have a point. So Elsa agreed.

An hour or so later they were stepping off the train onto a dusty brick platform. To call this a station was being generous. There was a small building, which contained two single restrooms, and one vending machine that looked like it hadn’t been serviced in years.

A soft hand grabbed Elsa’s forearm and she found herself being pulled away from the building and towards the beaten path to the waterfall.

+++

“You know, when I left home. No one checked on me. No one text or calls. Not even from my would-be husband.”

“Not text or even a Facebook message?”

“Nope.” Elsa left out a sigh. “I’m not surprised honestly. People say I’m difficult to get to know. At the wedding, the bride’s side was nearly empty. The few people over there just sat there because the groom’s side was full and they wanted a better view.”

Anna picked up a small pebble and tossed it into the stream, it made a soft plop sound before sinking below the surface. “Why did you guys want to get married then?”

“Well,” Elsa chewed on her lower lip for a moment before answering. “When you’re in business people expect things from you. It’s incredibly outdated and sexist too. But you’re expected to have a wife or a husband, expected to have children, expected to own a home, or at least rent somewhere nice. Have a good, clean car, new tech, nice clothes. All those things.”

She paused to copy Anna’s move with the pebble but missed the water completely, the small stone disappearing somewhere in the woods.

“We met at a company gathering and didn’t hate each other. Our drinks were the same, we watched the same evening news, had the same mild interest in the local sports team. It was enough to bolster a conversation. We started dating a few weeks later.”

“What about the wedding?”

Elsa laughed or at least made a sound that was like a laugh. “We had been dating for 2 years. And when I saying dating, I mean we were each other’s plus one to events, and we had dinner together at the nice restaurants. He was up for a promotion, asked if I wanted to get married and I agreed.”

“Wait what, he didn’t romantically propose?”

“No, we were never really intimate. A kiss here and there, maybe a night over to relieve stress. But if I’m honest, we spent most of our time apart and doing our own thing.”

Anna picked up a stick and picked at the bark, her brows pulled together and the ghost of a frown on her face.

“Did you love him?” she asked quietly

Elsa didn’t answer right away, choosing instead to turn her attention to the waterfall. Finally, after a few long minutes of silence, she answered. “No. No, I didn’t love him. And I would bet everything I own that he didn’t love me either.”

This time Anna sighed and scooted closer to Elsa. “You deserve to be loved, Elsa.”

“I’m not sure I even know what love is.”

Anna stood and walked in front of her field of view. Hands on her hips. “Sure you do!”

Elsa responded by standing and making a face.

“Elsa love isn’t a contract, it’s not a business proposal. It’s work and it’s hard but it also good and warm. Love is telling someone about your day and them listening and offering advice. Love is watching a movie together and laughing at the stupid parts. Love is holding someone while they’re sick and telling them dumb jokes to make them feel better. Love is a lot of things, but what love isn’t is convenient.”

“He was very convenient…”

“But was he love?”

“No.”

Anna reached out and took Elsa’s hand, giving it a light squeeze. “It’s okay, you know? You’re going to be okay. Fresh coast, fresh start.”

“Fresh coast, fresh start?” Elsa repeated, confused.

“Yeah, you’re moving to the West Coast, fresh coast, to start anew, fresh start.”

“Fresh coast, fresh start.” Elsa said again, “You know what, I like that.”

Anna beamed and that warm feeling prickled on the back of Elsa’s neck again.

+++

“So we have the colors all picked out, purple and green. And my dress is white but it’s ever so slightly green like it will catch the light, it’s so pretty.” Anna said. They were back in the dining car, having just finished dinner. About a week had passed since the waterfall adventure and train was rolling again. This time outside the window the fields were broken by large rocks and streams. Anna had her phone out, swiping through photos of her wedding prep.

“You sound excited,” Elsa commented, taking a sip of wine.

“Oh, I am! It’s going to be a lot of fun…” Anna looked up suddenly and stared right at Elsa. “You should come!”

“You don’t have to invite me.”

“Oh please, we’re like practically sisters at this point. Like I know what brand of tampon you used and I know that you snore when you sleep.”

“That’s… that’s a weird thing to know.”

“Elsa, everyone snores, pay attention, I’m forwarding you the rsvp so you can fill out what type of food you want.”

Elsa had to smile as she pulled out her phone to answer the email. “What a strange trip this has been. One day I’m running from my own wedding, and now I’m getting invited to a stranger’s.”

“Not a stranger, a friend,” Anna added, smiling warmly.

“A friend,” Elsa repeated, genuinely returning Annan’s smile.

“You know I was just sitting in the dining car, having a coffee and playing a pointless game on my phone. When I suddenly just felt this pull to leave. And I followed it blindly till I saw you. Then it’s like everything clicked. I think we were meant to find each other.”

Elsa was quiet for some time, considering this. Anna had swooped into her field of vision and hadn’t left since. And for once she didn’t mind the company. That warm feeling was back and with it, Elsa found herself agreeing. “I think we were meant to find each other too.”

+++

In the morning they would be arriving in San Francisco and would be going their separate ways. It was likely they wouldn’t see each other again. Sure, they had exchanged numbers - but in a city of 3 million people, it was easy to lose a single soul.

She didn’t want to lose Anna though. This blaze of a woman who dared to knock down Elsa’s walls with a bulldozer. She had never really had a close friend, and as Anna, asleep on her shoulder, stirred in response to a dream - Elsa couldn’t help but wonder if this is what it felt like to be loved.

Anna shifted, reaching out her hand, searching for something. Fingers moved with a purpose, slowly curling and uncurling until their ship reached the harbor. And she wrapped them around Elsa’s hand, holding firmly, as if she was once again reading Elsa’s mind and was too, afraid to let her go.

Elsa decided then and there, that this time would be different. This time she wouldn’t close the door on someone. She gave Anna’s hand a slight squeeze, causing Anna to nestle into the old woman’s neck.

Elsa turned to watch the lights from the city fade into the darkness of the desert. Her neck was warm and this time it traveled down and warmed her whole body. She ran a thumb over Anna’s hand and smiled.

#elsanna #submission #April 2021 contest #prompt: break

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laylacooke · 4 years

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Who Saved Who || Celeste (RIP) & Layla

timing: the day of the poltergeist attack at animal control parties: @celestelavie & @laylacooke summary: celeste and layla share one last meaningful moment together, before, you know... warnings: celeste is patching up a wounded layla (with a needle & thread), but i think that’s about it. if you see anything that needs tags, let me know! ♥

Somehow, she had managed to escape a werewolf hunter AND a poltergeist all in the same setting. What had turned out to be an afternoon of just looking at puppies had turned into a nightmare and a fight for survival. Body weak from blood loss and her skin paler than normal, Layla stumbled up onto the porch of Ulf’s trailer. Holding the left side of her stomach from the stab wound Kaden...err Kaden’s dead mother gave her, Layla put all her weight against the door and banged on it, praying someone would be there to let her in. Sweat ran down her face as she fought to stay on her feet, until someone could come and help her, “Come on...open the door...please open the door…”

Celeste had been enjoying the seemingly quiet day she was having. She’d had the day off and found herself relaxing on the couch looking through one of the art books Ulfric had lying around. Her head perked up as she could hear someone walking up the way outside, but a frown reached her lips when she could hear what sounded like a struggling Layla. Worry immediately etched itself on her face as she jumped up from the couch and rushed to the door. When she swung the door open to see Layla there bleeding, looking like she could pass out at any moment, she placed an arm around her to hold her up while trying to assess her injuries. “What happened? Where are you hurt? We need to get you cleaned up.”

Layla closed her eyes as she fought to stay upright. The adrenaline she had used to get home was running out, and if someone didn’t find her soon, she knew there was a nice open spot for her body to collapse on to the porch. However, her ears perked when she heard someone coming. With the remainder of her strength, she pushed herself off the door, so she wouldn’t fall into whoever was home. Seeing Celeste had been a relief, and without hesitating, she threw her arm around the woman for support, “Kaden...there was a ghost and it possessed Kaden…” Layla slowly removed her hand to show the young hunter the stab wound, “I’m just so tired. Can I just...can I sit down. I just want to sit down.”

The mention of Kaden’s name made her brows knit together. Celeste hadn’t realized he had a ghost problem and frowned. It meant he inevitably knew what Layla was, but she wanted to believe he wouldn’t be able to hurt her for the same reason he wasn’t targeting Ariana. He was making strides with the whole fae girlfriend thing, but the sight of Layla ready to collapse was concerning. She’d get the story out of her once she was patched up. She hurriedly helped get her sitting at one of the chairs. “Stay here,” she instructed, “I’m grabbing my first aid kit.” She came running back less than a minute later, asking, “Show me the wound.”

Once Layla was in a chair, she let her body go limp, except for the hand that was covering her stomach. Her limbs felt so heavy. Closing her eyes, she tried to stop her mind from racing. Everything that had happened was unexpected. Sure, this hadn’t been her first experience with something dangerous in White Crest, but it certainly felt like the worst. Not being able to see your attacker, until your only ally was possessed and sliding a silver blade into your stomach had topped anything she had ever experienced. When she heard Celeste return, she jumped slightly; eyes darting open to make sure she was safe. “Yeah…” Removing her crimson stained hand, she winced as the removal of pressure had caused some pain. Blood still coming out, she let her eyes move to Celeste, “I’m sorry.” Laying her head back, she closed her eyes again.

There was no way around the fact that the wound was bad and stitching it up would be painful, especially considering the slight burning around the laceration which had to be from silver. Celeste began to prepare a cloth to cleanse the wound. “This is going to sting,” she warned, “It looks like I’ll need to stitch it up, too. I’m going to need you to stay very still even though it’s going to hurt.” She opened one of the wipes in the packet and cleaned the surface, then used the cloth to apply pressure to slow the bleeding. This was much easier to do on limbs versus torso. Limbs you could at least use a strap to slow blood flow and bleeding. “Can you tell me what happened, Layla?” She looked up, still applying pressure to the wound, and gave the younger girl a concerned look.

She listened as Celeste spoke about what she was in for. She wasn’t looking forward to this at all, but Layla had no choice. Feeling the wipe and antiseptic going over her raw skin, she flinched slightly. That wasn’t so bad. Okay, it was kind of bad, but she could handle that. Her eyes remained closed as she began to explain to Celeste the situation she had ended up in, “I went to look at puppies at animal control. Kaden came in, and he was talking to me about this one puppy in particular...Indy.” She inhaled slowly, breath quivering, “Then the lights just started to flicker and all hell broke loose. It was like some ghost had it out for me. It knew about my family. About me. And it...it took over Kaden’s body, and before I could get him off of me, he stabbed me…” She opened her eyes and looked at Celeste, “I scratched him. I didn’t mean to hurt him, but it was the only way he would get off me. But he managed to get the ghost out, and then we ran.”

The story that was recounted was bizarre even by White Crest’s standards though she wasn’t particularly surprised even as ghosts, hunter parents really were assholes. Celeste nodded, keeping the cloth firmly pressed down. She needed the bleeding to slow enough to make the suture. It dawned on her Layla said she was looking at puppies, but she’d circle back to that later. “That sounds terrifying, I’m sorry this happened to you. I’ve never dealt with a ghost myself,” she replied, trying to keep her tone smooth and comforting, “You scratched him. Did he help you escape the ghost?” It sounded like he may have, which did make her feel a certain sense of pride. They were becoming friends, he was learning to see the world a little differently, and if he helped her, she had to believe there was hope for him yet.

Layla shifted in the chair as Celeste kept pressure on the wound. The room around her was starting to feel off kilter from the blood loss, and the redhead just wanted to lay down. Starting to feel anxiety creep in as everything around her continued to move, she closed her eyes again. Her heart was racing and sweat was dripping down from her face, but she didn’t want to alert Celeste, “It’s funny I keep getting myself into this shit. One of these days, it’s gonna get me killed.” Her voice was short as talking was getting harder to do. “Yeah, I... I helped him, and then he helped me...teamwork got us out. Which surprised me, because he seems like he doesn’t like people..or me, I don’t know. Are you done yet?” She knew Celeste hadn’t even started sewing the wound, but her mind was trying to deceive her, while she tried to keep from passing out.

Celeste shook the rest of her questions away. They could talk more once she was stitched up and in less pain. Still, knowing that Kaden helped Layla, when his instincts would have told him what she was, was reassuring. They would have to talk about his mom being a ghost thing when he was ready. It sounded like he had a lot on his plate at the moment and it seemed better not to push him. “I’m just glad you both made it out of there. He’s not a people person, I wouldn’t take it personally. You’re with me on the full moon so it won’t be a problem either way.” She removed the cloth, the bleeding had slowed, she could start working on the suture now. Carefully, she pulled the edges of the wound back together, holding Layla’s side still with her arm. “This part is going to suck,” she warned, as she put the needle and thread into her skin. Hopefully she wouldn’t have to do this again for a while, but the teenage werewolves seemed to be damn good at finding trouble.

Layla tried to focus her mind on Celeste’s voice, and she gripped the arms of the chair she was sitting in. Eyes still closed, she tried to think of happier times. Frankie. Ariana. Indy the Puppy. Cheerleading. Archery. Anything to just keep her mind off of the pain and the - Feeling the hunter close the sides of the wound and poke the needle into her skin, the teenager let out a cry of agony. Her knuckles were now white from the tight grip around the chair and her breathing rapid. This wasn’t anything like what she had seen in the movies or on Buffy. This fucking hurt, and she just wanted it to be over with. Eyes shut so tightly together that she was seeing stars, she tried her best not to squirm, but was starting to fail. No words apparent right now for fear of throwing up.

Celeste felt bad that Layla was in pain, but this was unavoidable. The alternative was letting it continue to bleed out which would have not done either of them any good. She frowned and tried to speak in a soothing tone to distract her. “You’re doing great. I’m working as quickly and accurately as I can. When we’re done, you could probably take some more of those meds they gave you for your hand. After you eat something and have some water. You don’t want to take those on an empty stomach.” She hoped the continued sound of her voice served as a distraction. She focused on working quickly and as she tied up the last stitch, she advised, “We’re done, I’ll be right back with a snack. I know you may not feel like it, but you need to have something in your stomach so you can take some medication.”

She continued to listen. Now focusing on the inflection of Celeste’s voice. She listened to the birds chirping outside and the argopelters scurrying around. Her hearing even went so far out as to hear a tree falling in the distance at the sound of a chainsaw. Whatever was out there to distract her, she was living for it, and before Layla knew it, the hunter had finished what she was doing. Slowly opening her sad eyes, she looked to Celeste, before slowly glancing down at the stitched wound. Something else that would have to heal, but right now, all she could think about was laying down. Well, that and the pain medicine, she had refused to take for her hand. The blood covering her hands and clothes would have to wait, until everything wasn’t spinning, and she didn’t feel like passing out, “I’ll eat, if I can just lay down afterwards. How did you get so good at this?”

“Of course,” Celeste answered as she grabbed one of the vegan ramen packets from the cabinet. As she prepared it, she shrugged and explained, “Something my parents taught me. Had to put it to use a lot growing… and living here. They’re much easier to do when you’re not the one you’re stitching up.” Once the ramen was finished, she came back to the table and set it down in front of Layla. After all that blood loss, food was a necessity. She didn’t want her fainting somewhere when she wasn’t paying attention. She looked to Layla, her features soft to show her concern, “Outside of the stab wound, how are you feeling? Being attacked by a ghost had to have been scary for you.”

“My parents taught me a little. If I had actually taken hunting seriously…” She swallowed, her mouth dry, “I might not be in this situation.” She watched as Celeste brought the ramen over to her. Slowly taking the fork, and with a shaking, bloody hand, Layla took a small bite. It had taken some effort to guide it to her mouth, but once it was in, the food tasted better than she had thought it would. After eating a few bites, she sat the fork back down, “Like crap. And in shock. I don’t know why I thought poltergeists weren’t real, when I change into a dog every full moon.” She looked down, disappointed in herself. She had put Celeste, Ari, and Ulf through so much in just in a little over a month. Eyes still down, she thanked the woman who had bandaged her up, “Thank you...for keeping alive. And taking me on. I know I’m a handful.”

“I think it’s better that you didn’t. You’re a good kid. I’d hate to see that kind of violence take away the parts of yourself that you love most,” Celeste said in the most reassuring tone she could manage. “Plus, there are actual doctors for this sort of thing.” It brought her some comfort to see Layla eating her soup. It wasn’t the most gourmet of meals, but that had always been more of Ariana’s thing. Plus, Celeste knew very little about vegan cooking. Instant vegan ramen was probably the best way to go. It’d at least help her feel less woozy after all the blood loss. She listened as Layla explained being taken aback by the whole poltergeist situation. “They’re not particularly common. Not all ghosts become poltergeists. I believe there are factors that play into, but I never learned too much about ghosts myself,” she explained, hoping that it made her feel better for not knowing. “I guess we should just always expect anything is possible.” She gave the girl a pat on the shoulder as she called herself a handful. “You’re not a handful, you’re just a teenager. I’m happy to have you with us, Layla. I know Ariana and Ulfric are as well.”

Kid. Layla had, for the most part, missed being a kid. Training had started early in her life, but when she could, she tried to embrace doing kid things. That’s one of the reasons Frankie had been a Godsend, because of the freedom she had provided the teenager for so many years, “If I could be living a different life right now, regardless, I think I’d choose it. Please, don’t take that the wrong way. I’m grateful for what you’ve done for me, but all I’ve ever wanted was a normal life.” She swallowed thickly, before picking the fork back up and taking a few more bites, “Ghosts were never my strong suit either. I was mostly trying to figure out how to prevent my parents from killing wolves and animals. But you’re right, because this town is weird as fuck.” She laid the fork down and shifted in her seat. A weak smile spread across her face when Celeste mentioned that she was happy Layla was there. “Thanks. It’s just nice to finally have somebody in my life who knows what it’s like to have nightmare hunter parents. I don’t know what I’d do if I never met you, Celeste. Or Ari and Ulf. Even though Ulf scares me.” She let out a weak, uneasy laugh, “Ariana’s lucky to have you in her life.”

Celeste could understand wanting things to be different. As important as Ariana was to her, it’d still be nice if they could live their lives a little more freely. If she could go one day without having to swallow back that sense of worry that everything could come crashing down around them. They had all deserved better, but the world couldn’t change overnight. “It’s okay to wish things were different. You know you deserve better. That just makes you one step closer to finding it,” she tried to validate what the younger girl was feeling and gave her a sympathetic look. “Maybe for now we can try to avoid the angry ghosts and leave it to the experts.” She’d take a murderous mime twin to a ghost any day. The element of not being able to see what attacked you was problematic. It was heartwarming to hear she felt the same about their shared connection though. Growing up with hunter parents, at least from what she gathered, was not easy. They held little regard for their own children outside what it meant for their so-called legacy. She offered her a warm smile from across the table and replied, “I agree with you. It’s a rare experience, having that upbringing and ending up outside of that world. I know you were forced out, but it doesn’t sound like it was ever what you wanted to be. I can assure that you have no reason to be afraid of Ulfric though. Trust may take a while to build. I’m not sure of what his previous experience was, but I can imagine it wasn’t a pleasant one. With time and honesty from both sides, you two will get there.” While she wasn’t close with Ulfric, she trusted him to always have Ariana’s best interest in mind. He’d proven as much. She reached across the table and gave Layla’s hand a gentle squeeze. “We’re all lucky to have each other.”

It was the way she said the words. How mature she had been for someone so young, and even Layla could see that. She had come to appreciate hearing what Celeste had to say. The guidance it gave her and words to fall back on when her mind was telling her one thing, but her heart was telling her something else. She had come to cherish her time spent with Celeste, and she didn’t take it for granted, especially when she was close to bleeding out. The woman giving Layla’s hand a gentle squeeze brought a weak smile to her face. The teenager was a wreck. Tired. Dirty. And shaken up, but there was something reassuring about Celeste being around, “And I’m lucky Ariana took a chance on me that day.” Pushing the bowl back, Layla slowly moved her hand away from the hunter and used it for what little leverage she could in an attempt to get up, but failed leaving her yelping out in pain and stuck in the chair, “I promise I won’t ask for anything else tonight, but can you help me to the couch or to my place in Ari’s room.” Her breathing labored from not wanting to agitate the wound. She was helpless as per usual, but she wanted to be better and do better. Get to a place where she didn’t have to depend on Celeste, but only to talk and laugh with. It would take time but having such a jarring experience with Kaden had seemed to put a lot of things in perspective. Unfortunately, Layla didn’t know what life had in store for her or any of them, especially Celeste.

Celeste smiled softly, “I’m glad she took a chance on you, too, Layla. I have no doubt none of us will regret it.” As Layla struggled to get up from the table, her grin quickly turned to a frown. The wound would make it painful to move around for the immediate future. She rushed to Layla’s side and slid an arm under her shoulders so she could hoist her up. “Of course,” she answered, “Let’s get you settled in on the couch. I can help you get to the bedroom later, too, if you’d like. We’re all here for each other, remember?” She took Layla over to the couch slowly and carefully, making sure not to cause any more pain for her. She helped her get comfortable with a pillow and blanket. It dawned on her she may like to watch some TV, so she reached for the remote and handed it to her, too. “There we go, that should be a comfortable set up. If you need anything else, I am home for the night and would rather help you. Can’t have you busting your stitches open now.”

The act of kindness. The motherly ways that Celeste was taking on to take care of her had brought tears to the teenager’s eyes. As she slowly moved from the table to the couch and was soon tucked in, Layla realized that this was what it was supposed to feel like being cared for. Someone who was genuinely concerned for your wellbeing and health. Not in the way her mother and father had so often liked to treat her. Making her feel like she was nothing. Her grandmother and Frankie had always been the ones in her life to lift her up, but after getting the bite, she had no one, until she had met Ariana, Celeste, and even Ulfric. Though he didn’t show it quite as much and there was still room for both to grow, “Not even my own mother showed me this kind of love. If I was sick or hurt, they would put on a show for the public, but when we got home, they did the bare minimum. Ariana’s so lucky to have you in her life.” She wiped her eyes with her hands, “And no, because that needle fucking hurts.” She managed to muster out a small airy laugh, but that was about it. “One of these days, it’ll be me taking care of you. You’ll see. For all you’ve done, it’ll be the least I can do.”

#para: who saved who #celestelavie #wickedswriting #have some more celeste feels in your life

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notsofly · 6 years

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Ties in Blood Chapter 1

Reposting of Ties in Blood I’ll be tagging people; sorry if you’ve been tagged before.

@mrswhozeewhatsis @winchestergirl-13 @impala-dreamer @idreamofplaid @squirrelnotsam @percussiongirl2017

Chapter 1

Aaliyah stood still as the young man adjusted her two layers of clothes. Behind him she watched the older man Aaliyah pegged to be the father finish the last of the traps. She hadn’t expected the elder to allow her on this part of the hunt. Yet after the werewolf caught her scent three days ago, there was little choice. Once the young man seemed satisfied with how Aaliyah’s jackets fit, he reached over to the trunk of the car, a black Impala, and brought out a knife.

“Silver blade,” he told her. “Short of lobbing off the head, best way of dealing with werewolves.” With a slight flick of the wrist, he caught the blade and handed the knife handle first to Aaliyah.

She accepted the blade, adjusting her hold, and nodded. “Any advice?”

“Yeah, don’t get killed.”

“Dean. We need to move,” his father instructed.

Aaliyah watched Dean’s father climb into the driver’s seat of the car before the engine rumbled to life. She watched the car move away as memories flashed of the past few days hearing the engine around the college campus. Turning back to Dean, Aaliyah blinked a couple times in a slight surprise to find he wasn’t there.

With a couple stabilizing breaths, she stepped out into the open. The late summer breeze tugged at the top jacket and she swore she heard cheers from the football stadium. The thought that the werewolf would be drawn there passed through her mind. Then again, even a wild animal would avoid people. A howl carried on the wind. Aaliyah spun her head and shifted her grip on the knife. Leaves on nearby trees rustled, but there was no breeze.

She turned to see just out of the corner of her eye a lumbering werewolf in md arm sweep at her. Full force sent Aaliyah into a sapling, snapping it and sending the wind from her lungs. Gasping for breath, she searched for the knife that laid a few feet away out of the creature’s path. Crawling for the weapon, Aaliyah’s neck hairs stood on end as the hot stank breath of the werewolf touched her. Her fingers just barely grabbed the knife as her back erupted in pain as if it was on fire. Screaming in pain, Aaliyah curled into a ball, her hand around the knife handle. Fighting through the pain, she rolled onto her back as the werewolf swiped at her again, cutting into her side.

The muzzle of the werewolf was inches above her face, a large glop of saliva hanging down. Biting through that pain, she thrusted the knife up into the creature’s stomach, pulling the knife up to the rib cage. She didn’t fight the shutter that worked through her body as hot blood bathed her. Pushing the dead body up and off of her, Aaliyah laid there, regaining her breath, her mind blank. She fought the urge to close her eyes as her body reverted into survival mode.

“That took guts,” she heard a voice tell her. A slow turn of her head showed Dean coming up to her. “Think you can move?”

Testing her side with a deep breath, Aaliyah nodded. Holding up a hand and worked with Dean to get to her feet. Wrapping her free arm across her stomach, she didn’t fight when Dean put the arm he held around his shoulders and wrapped his arm around her, mindful of her back. Eased over to the car, Dean helped her onto the hood before going to the trunk. She flinched when John came up to her.

“What were you thinking?” he demanded. “Letting the werewolf…”

“It’s dead,” Aaliyah cut in, eyes closed against the throbbing pain. “Bet you couldn’t do better.”

A heavy thud on the hood reverberated through her body. With an eye cracked open, Aaliyah watched Dean start fishing through a duffel bag. From it appeared make shift medical supplies plus typical first aid items. Last item was a bottle of cheap looking alcohol any of the local party stores had in stock. She reached for the bottle as Dean found a needle and dental floss.

“Think you can shed the jackets and shirt?” Dean asked.

Aaliyah freed one jacket and struggled with the second. She ignored the feeling of serious judgement from Dean’s father. Unfit to be a hunter, the older Winchester said when she wanted to help three days ago. She wanted to show him he was fit when she heard that.

Finally freeing the second jacket, Aaliyah dared to shed the shirt. A hiss from Dean was a clue on how bad it looked. A small shiver when a breeze passed by, Aaliyah hissed when a cold liquid washed over her open wounds. Adjusting herself on the hood, she folded her legs in front of her. Meeting Dean’s gaze, Aaliyah nodded. Holding herself still, she felt Dean’s hands working on stitching up her side and back. As he worked, Aaliyah started to drift off to sleep. A shake brought her back around.

“Come on, I’ll take you back to your dorm,” Dean told her.

***

Unsure of what she was conscious of first, Aaliyah laid in bed and attempted to pick each noise out. Her roommate moving around doing something. Coffee dripping into the pot. Music playing just a little too loud Aaliyah swore would have affected her if she had been drinking. Shifting under her blanket, pain snagged on her dental floss stitched wounds.

“You look like you had a rough night,” her roommate told her, passing through to the bathroom.

“Yeah, I had one.” Aaliyah eased herself into a sitting position on her bed, the covers pooled in her lap. “Where you at the game, Amanda?”

“No, had a test to study for.” Amanda came out from the bathroom and gasped. “What happened to you? Have you been to the ER?”

Aaliyah looked down to her bandages had red spots on them and shook her head. “You wouldn’t believe me.” She didn’t fight when Amanda eased her forward.

“Try me.”

Closing her eyes as Amanda started peeling off the bandages, Aaliyah watched flashes of the previous night. The fresh wounds pulled at her muscles. “You remember the reports of a large wild dog and all that howling the past few weeks?”

“What about it?” Amanda continued unwrapping the bandages.

Aaliyah heard her roommate half listening to what she was saying. “It was a full blown werewolf.”

“Werewolf, huh? Twilight or Harry Potter?”

“More like Underworld.” Aaliyah glanced to the bundled bandages speckled with red as Amanda stepped away and tossed it into the trash. “I’m … still trying to figure out how I really survived the fight.”

“You sound …”

“Insane? Like I need to be put up in a psych ward indefinitely?” Aaliyah took a deep breath and held it as she moved her body to the edge of the bed. Feet on the scrap of carpet that served as a rug and her hands white knuckled the mattress, she released the air from her lungs. The pain was still there, blood vessels, muscles, skin working still to knit themselves back together. Breathing through the pain flair until it died down to a mild throbbing. “Go ahead and say it, I won’t fight it.”

“That’s the thing, though, Lia.” Amanda sat down in the oversized chair that Aaliyah had. “I do believe you. I had gone out to the library yesterday …”

“Studying for the test,” Aaliyah remembered, gaining a nod from Amanda.

“Coming back here when the library closed, I swear I saw some sort of fight in the Diag,” Amanda told her, voice. “One of the … fighters loomed over the other, howling and grunting like those wolves we had gone to see over the winter. It clawed at the smaller fighter, who cried out. The smaller reached for something before turning around and just as the larger was just over them.” She mimed being stabbed. “The one on the ground stabbed up at her attacker. After that, two men came out from wherever they were and took care of the scene. One took care of the dead attacker while the other helped …” Amanda gestured toward Aaliyah. “You, apparently.”

Aaliyah worked what her friend told her, wondering why she so readily believed her tale of being attacked by a werewolf. “That whole time, you never thought to go get help or come help?”

“Oh, hell no. Too much trouble on my end.” Amanda pushed herself out of the chair. “Come on, I’ll help you wash up and get fresh bandages on those stitches of yours.”

Aaliyah couldn’t help smile a little as her roommate and good friend since freshmen year of college offered a hand up. In the couple years she had known Amanda, Aaliyah wondered how much remained hidden between them. Any time she brought up family or friends before college, Amanda deflected the conversation to another topic.

“Whoever did those stitches knew what they were doing,” Amanda called from the bathroom. “Major props to ‘em.”

“Yeah, he knew what he was doing,” Aaliyah replied, trying to remember how it felt having her wounds being stitched with a deft and gentle hand. She half shuffled to the bathroom, using the furniture to help, where Amanda had water running. “A shame I didn’t get his number.”

“There’s a piece of paper on your desk.”

Grateful she was holding onto it, Aaliyah reached for the paper.

“You did great, Aaliyah. Your roommate helped getting you back in. Here’s my number if anything happens while you’re still here.”

--Dean

Spotting the number under Dean’s name, Aaliyah made a mental note to call it later. Maybe after the shower and more rest.

***

Panting, Aaliyah came up to The Rock near the ZTA chapter house and braced herself against the rock. Early morning before the University of Michigan and the surrounding city buzzed with its daily workings was a good time to run. A month after killing the werewolf, Aaliyah was able to breath and not have the feeling her side and back were on fire. The talk of the day had gone from the random animal attacks to the varsity football team being able to reach the championship game.

Aaliyah had no issue with the gossip changing from the werewolf to the team. It kept the attention off of her and her wounds. Her professors and classmates had been worried when she showed to class after the fight. Her wounds bleed a little through her bandages the first day or so when she returned to class. Amanda had offered to go around and collect assignments from all her professors in that first week, but Aaliyah refused. She didn’t want to put more stress on her roommate and friend than what she already had with her load.

Once her breathing slowed, Aaliyah dared to head off toward the Quad where the fight with the werewolf had taken place. Speeding up to a light jog, she passed a few students on their way to a morning class. A few minutes and a quicken heart rate later, she came to a stop at the grass line. The late summer yellow grass still held onto the large brown spot where the werewolf had fallen a month ago. Word had spread about a large animal being killed when the landscapers showed the morning following Aaliyah’s kill. Rumors and guesses of what it was had circulated the University and surrounding parts of the city for the past month, and Aaliyah kept to herself during those conversations.

She stood there in the early morning silence as a strange sense of peace fell over her. Like something finally clicked in her mind that she, with some help, had not only learned of the supernatural but taken down one of the most popular creatures. If she could do that, what else couldn’t she do? Reaching for her phone, Aaliyah thumbed through the contacts until she reached Dean’s and paused. He never said anything about keeping in touch, but he might know a thing or two about maybe finding a missing person. Hitting the dial button, Aaliyah listened to the tone before the voicemail picked up.

“This is Dean’s other, other cell, so you must know what to do,” the greeted stated before the beep.

“Hey, um, Dean, it’s Aaliyah,” she started, her tongue tripping on her speed. “I was wondering if you knew anything about finding a missing person or two. Call me on this number.” Short and to the point. The thought of if he was going to return the call passed through her mind as she pocketed her cell and started a jog down the sidewalk back to her dorm building.

#supernatural spn fanfic werewolf dean ofc

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thewildheroine · 6 years

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Fly Away |Eight|

Warnings: Language, PTSD fight response/ flashback.

Words: 2791

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader (Slow Burn)

A/N: Guys I am so sorry this took such a long time. (A couple of MONTHS to be exact). I feel so bad for not writing any of Fly Away for such a long time. To be honest I fell out of the habit of writing in general and it took me such a long time to be motivated to do anything again.

As I mentioned last time I will be having the main develope platonic relationships with the other Avengers so sadly there isn’t any Peter in this chapter. There will, however, be a lot of him in part nine.

|Masterlist|

I knit furiously fast. So fast in fact that I think the needles will break from the sheer frustration behind each move. They click together as I pass the yarn over the tips and yank on them as lightly as possible to make sure the stitch is tight.

Sixteen days. For sixteen days I have been stuck here in this stupid Avenger’s facility, knitting with the absolutely random supplies they had given me and repeatedly throwing a rubber ball against the wall. After I was told to stop by Thor’s younger brother who is currently under the custody of Doctor Strange I decided to begin knitting.

I hate Loki. With every tired and aching bone in my body, I despise him. He always makes the snarkiest comments, talking about how I’m a prisoner just like him. How I use children’s tricks. Tricks. Fucking tricks. Most of his magic is composed of tricks and illusions. At least I know sorcerer magic. At least I am an actual sorceress. He just brags about turning into a damn snake and stabbing Thor.

Suddenly the yarn snaps and I groan angrily. The part that annoys me the most is that I am a prisoner. Once I decided to stay officially Strange immediately confiscated the sling ring I had stolen from the hunter, though I did steal it back today just for some sort of comfort. Now I’m not even allowed to go grab my clothes or go to school. They’ve been calling me out for the past two weeks.

At this point, the only reason my grade is still thriving is because every day after school Peter brings me all the work and notes from throughout our day. Then I have to do it which gives us little to no time to actually talk. It’s absolute agony.

I moan and fall to my side, making my bed bounce a bit. The only reminder I have that there is even a world out there inside of base besides Peter is my window which looks out on the courtyard. Some days I hate the reality of it all though. The reality that the real world is out there, and I’m being kept from. It bothers me so much that I tint the windows so that any and all light is shut out from my room.

I’m safe though. Shut off but sheltered at the same time. I miss it all though, even if I hated most people the world has in it. I miss the rain, even though it seemed to have held grudges against me for no apparent reason. I miss talking in person with Ned and Peter and May. I miss the little freedom I used to have out in the world, even if I was in danger. There are forces out there though that makes it so everyone is safer when I’m in here.

“Y/N?” I hear a quiet voice and don’t answer. A second passes and I hear a knock. I sigh to myself and reply numbly, throwing my needles to the ground and turning to the window so I won’t be forced to look at whoever enters.

The tint on the glass slowly fades away so it seems as if I’m actually enamored by the line of trees in the distance. Subconsciously though I’m listening to the soft pat of their shoes on the floor. Shoes. That takes out a few people. Clint for sure is no longer in the running, which is actually a little disappointing. I know that Steve always takes off his shoes. Probably being polite or something American. I don’t know.

Bucky never initiates a conversation with me unless I seem happy enough. Thor is usually far, far more abrupt and I have a doubt he would’ve waited as long as whoever this is after first asking to come in. Loki would’ve pissed me off by now. Natasha would’ve sat at the end of my bed. Banner works until one in the afternoon and had asked Strange to help him out in some “doctory” sort of way. That leaves me with one person who is actually at the base today as far as I know.

“What do you want Stark?” I mumble placidly.

“I’m surprised you realized it was me pretty quick,” he says. “Last time you refused to look at me when I came in it took you what, thirty more seconds.”

“Well that was the first couple days,” I tell him whilst numbly picking at my cuticles. “Now I’ve picked up on everyone's habits, routines, relationships. All that jazz.” When there’s a pause I take a peek at him. Tony’s leaned up against my wall, staring out of my window as well.

“That’s weird.” I roll my eyes so much that by the time I’ve finished I’m looking back out of the window.

“You haven’t answered my question,” I murmur.

“How can you stand just looking out of the window all day long?” he asks me. I groan and drop my head into my soft pillow. “It’s so bright in here. You could probably turn off at least one light.”

“Stark…”

“It may help with your Salem witch type stuff.”

“STARK!”

We’re both a little startled by my outburst. Tony looks stunned for a moment before quickly recovering and going back to being his normal, composed self. Outside I see the shadow of someone waiting to see if they should come in. By the broadness of their shoulders I can tell that it’s most likely Steve. He’s really the only one who would be willing to interfere to keep an argument from occurring too.

“Look kid, I just think it would be a good idea for you to get out of this room.”

“Don’t call me kid.” I begin to fume a bit at the sheer frustration of all of this. Being trapped. Being treated like a child. I prefer being called a prisoner far more than being called a fucking kid.

“Just go,” I assert before I even have the chance to let my emotions completely boil over. Even though I know my expression reads as calm I look down at my hands and see red smoke pouring over my palm and fingertips. I automatically ball them up into fists, causing a big puff of smoke to come out. Luckily Tony doesn’t seem to notice.

This has never happened before, and I’ve experienced a lot when it comes to magic. Whatever this is has never happened to me, nor have I ever studied in all more years of learning about the mystical arts. I pray silently that it may just be my aura overflowing. An overflowing aura isn’t common, but it is possible. Though I haven’t ever heard about it being so obvious.

“Y/N-”

“LEAVE!” I scream at him. A burst of air flows in from behind me and throws Tony a little off balance. The main reason he stumbles isn’t because of the wind though. I see what really throws him off balance in my reflection.

Black veins splinter from my eyes and down my face. They make my skin look as if it has shattered. I have to swallow down a gasp before composing myself. With a thought, their presence on my face is covered up by an Asgardian illusion and it has faded from Tony’s memory. Now all he remembers is me shouting at him.

“Hey,” I turn around to see who has walked in. Much to my surprise, the shadow’s owner wasn’t Steve, but Bucky, who now stands awkwardly in the doorway.

“Is everything alright?” Both Tony and I look away from each other. I cast my gaze over to the window and he just stares at Bucky.

“It’s nothing to worry about.” Even though I wish for the both of them to leave, only Tony sullenly escape. Not before raising his hand to my shoulder reluctantly though. His fingertips weren’t even allowed to apply the apologetic touch when I scooted away from him.

Bucky and I remain silent for an uncomfortable amount of time. I can hear him shuffle a bit before stepping forward, where Tony once was.

“Tony’s right you know,” he tells me. “You shouldn’t coop yourself up.” I laugh ruefully at the irony of it.

“Oh wow. Now that I know I’m so excited to go for a long, clarifying walk through the living room,” I joke. “Maybe I’ll even go on an adventure into the foyer. I can’t wait.” I’m surprised to see the crack of a smile on Bucky’s lips. He shakes his head at my sarcasm, all while seemingly trying to hold back a chuckle.

“You know what I mean,” Bucky replies.

“Of course,” I murmur back. “I just- I don’t like talking to people. It’s nothing against them, I just get this feeling while I’m talking to you guys. I feel like I’m going to crawl out of my skin. Wait, it actually is something against Loki.” Bucky nods knowingly. “Speaking of, why the hell is he even here?”

“If I had been here longer and had more power in the Avengers I would tell you.” His grin turns into something sincere. “I’d also make sure you were able to go outside, but I don’t.” I sigh and rub my eyes. It’s much less comforting knowing someone wants me to have some freedom rather than thinking everyone wants me on house arrest.

“Thanks for the solace Bucky,” I tell him. “Didn’t make me feel better but you know- it’s something at least.” Bucky nods for a moment until stopping suddenly, capturing an idea floating around in his head.

“How about this?” he starts. “Let’s do some hand to hand fighting.” I immediately scowl at the suggestion and go back to sullenly looking out of my window. “It will help with your frustration,” Bucky keeps trying to persuade me.

“I made this clear when I first got to this place. No training and no diet.”

“It’ll be good for you,” Bucky reassures. “Anyways if you train hard enough you may be able to beat Loki in a fight.” My scowl effortlessly turns into a glare as I slowly turn to look Bucky in the eyes.

“I’m already able to beat that emo antelope in a fight.” Bucky shrugs numbly.

“I have no real proof that you’re telling me the truth.” I know there’s only one way to show him.

“Ready?” Bucky asks me. The whole time we were walking down here there was a huge smile plastered on his face. By now I’ve realized he’s already won by even managing to drag me out of my room. I wouldn’t have been surprised if there was a silent wager between everyone as to who could get me to do something besides look out my window in an angsty sort of way.

Now he’s managed to do the impossible. Bucky has gotten me into the training room, and all because he said I may not be as good as Loki. So I’m standing here now, still in my jeans and t-shirt, facing Bucky who’s stance itself is intimidating.

“You’re sure it’s okay if I use magic?” I ask nervously looking down at my hands where the red smoke still falls between my fingertips. “I really don’t want to hurt you.” Bucky scoffs.

“I’m a super soldier with a vibranium arm. I have a feeling I’ll be fine.” I nod and shake my head. My father always said to never go into a fight feeling any sympathy towards my opponent. He would say a tsunami shows no mercy to the coast. That was of course before he left me in the woods to fend for myself during Winter break when I was eight going on nine. A late birthday gift I would assume

“Okay,” I agree weakly.

All of the sudden Bucky jumps towards me, and I have to fall to the ground to avoid his grasp. I’m only given a second to stand back up and face him again. My heart is palpitating in my chest only in the way it did when my father would force me to fight him in the mirror dimension.

Just at the memory of it, I freeze up. Bucky doesn’t move either. He watches as my hands begin to shake wildly and my slow breathing turns into hyperventilating. I can’t even move as Bucky worriedly steps up to me.

That is until he raises his hand to my shoulder. Then my instincts from a decade of training kick in and I grab his arm, using his momentum against him and slamming him into the ground. I can tell that some magic had flowed into me to help, but most of it was just automatic. All because of my father.

I wait patiently for Bucky to stand up but then I throw another punch and he catches it in his hand. To my luck, it isn’t the metal one.

My fists don’t stop flying though. For some reason, it feels like I’ve been put in the backseat of my own mind and there is no driver anymore. Every action I take is done on impulse now. Bucky isn’t holding back anymore though like I thought he would. Now he’s fighting, fighting. His movements are completely defensive and I finally comprehend I’m on the offense now.

Every punch I throw gets harder and harder. I feel my hands getting hotter from the heat emitting from them and I feel like they are going to abruptly combust. Every atom in my body wants to stop fighting Bucky. Despite my feeling physically and mentally drained, my body continues moving without my permission. Beads of sweat drip down my face on onto my shirt. They’re the only sort of relief I get.

Only when I suddenly have Bucky’s arm twisted around his back do I back away from him.

“What the hell?” I mumble, frightened by myself. Each of my hands is not only leaking red mist but dripping with blood. Or maybe it’s just an impossibly, incredibly well-concentrated aura.

I look up to check and see if maybe the fluid is Bucky’s but I’ve done no harm to him besides bruise and put the soldier into a state of shock.

“Y/N you need to calm down before you pass out,” he lifts his hands harm slowly as to not alarm me. I do my best to slow down my breathing.

“What happened to me?” I tuck my hands into my chest to try and halt the liquid and smoke. The red water, or at least I’m hoping it’s water, drips down my shirt, staining it

“You had a fight response,” he tells me. “A really bad one. It’s okay though Y/N. I get them too.” I shake my head and run my fingers through my hair.

“Why?” My voice quivers and I have to work extra hard to keep tears slip down my face.

“You’re the only one who knows the answer Y/N.” Surprising the both of us I back away to the door and slink out. Luckily Bucky knows not to follow me, and anyone who tries to talk to me as I make my way across the base is consequently ignored.

My father once had me fight someone besides himself in the mirror dimension. A woman with a kind face, no taller than my dad. My father reminded me that she meant nothing to me. We weren’t connected in any way. That, I could feel myself.

Then he told me my challenge was to run a knife through her heart. At first I refused, but my dad told me he could heal her so she would live. He reassured that she would only feel it for a second.

Naively I obliged him as I always did. I listened to him and charged towards the woman who never once moved. Only when it was too late did I realize something was wrong.

I saw the look in her eyes. The terrified, helpless eyes of a teenage girl, who was old as I am now. It disappeared though as soon as I plunged my knife into her heart, killing her instantly. She never even fought back nor did she bother run. The girl was just as frozen as I was. The only release she had was when I released her from this life and she slumped forward onto my blade. It was then that I realized it wasn’t a fight, but an execution.

“Now you know death Y/N,” my father whispers to me in the secrecy of my room. “Death is apart of you now, just as much as I am. You will become death.” I whip around wildly to look at him, but he isn’t here. Just like always.

Suddenly, feeling too trapped I reach under my mattress and yank out the sling ring I managed to keep hidden from Strange. The window is quickly replaced by a portal and I step through.

#peter parker #peter parker imagine #peter parker x reader #mcu fanfiction #peter parker fanfiction #spiderman imagine #spiderman x reader #imagine fanfiction #spider man #fanfiction #fly away

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idreamofhazeleyes · 6 years

Text

Ties in Blood

Well .... here it goes; chapter 1. Ties in Blood

Chapter 1

“Any advice?”

“Yeah, don’t get killed.”

“Dean. We need to move,” his father instructed.

She turned to see just out of the corner of her eye a lumbering werewolf in mid arm sweep at her. Full force sent Aaliyah into a sapling, snapping it and sending the wind from her lungs. Gasping for breath, she searched for the knife that laid a few feet away out of the creature’s path. Crawling for the weapon, Aaliyah’s neck hairs stood on end as the hot stank breath of the werewolf touched her. Her fingers just barely grabbed the knife as her back erupted in pain as if it was on fire. Screaming in pain, Aaliyah curled into a ball, her hand around the knife handle. Fighting through the pain, she rolled onto her back as the werewolf swiped at her again, cutting into her side.

“That took guts,” she heard a voice tell her. A slow turn of her head showed Dean coming up to her. “Think you can move?”

“What were you thinking?” he demanded. “Letting the werewolf…”

“It’s dead,” Aaliyah cut in, eyes closed against the throbbing pain. “Bet you couldn’t do better.”

“Think you can shed the jackets and shirt?” Dean asked.

***

“You look like you had a rough night,” her roommate told her, passing through to the bathroom.

“Yeah, I had one.” Aaliyah eased herself into a sitting position on her bed, the covers pooled in her lap. “Where you at the game, Amanda?”

“No, had a test to study for.” Amanda came out from the bathroom and gasped. “What happened to you? Have you been to the ER?”

Aaliyah looked down to her bandages had red spots on them and shook her head. “You wouldn’t believe me.” She didn’t fight when Amanda eased her forward.

“Try me.”

“What about it?” Amanda continued unwrapping the bandages.Aaliyah heard her roommate half listening to what she was saying.

“It was a full blown werewolf.”

“Werewolf, huh? Twilight or Harry Potter?”

“You sound …”

“That’s the thing, though, Lia.” Amanda sat down in the oversized chair that Aaliyah had. “I do believe you. I had gone out to the library yesterday …”

“Studying for the test,” Aaliyah remembered, gaining a nod from Amanda.

“Coming back here when the library closed, I swear I saw some sort of fight in the Diag,” Amanda told her. “One of the … fighters loomed over the other, howling and grunting like those wolves we had gone to see over the winter. It clawed at the smaller fighter, who cried out. The smaller reached for something before turning around and just as the larger was just over them.” She mimed being stabbed. “The one on the ground stabbed up at her attacker. After that, two men came out from wherever they were and took care of the scene. One took care of the dead attacker while the other helped …” Amanda gestured toward Aaliyah. “You, apparently.”

Aaliyah worked what her friend told her, wondering why she so readily believed her tale of being attacked by a werewolf. “That whole time, you never thought to go get help or come help?”

“Oh, hell no. Too much trouble on my end.” Amanda pushed herself out of the chair. “Come on, I’ll help you wash up and get fresh bandages on those stitches of yours.”

“Whoever did those stitches knew what they were doing,” Amanda called from the bathroom. “Major props to ‘em.”

“There’s a piece of paper on your desk.”Grateful she was holding onto it, Aaliyah reached for the paper.

“You did great, Aaliyah. Your roommate helped getting you back in. Here’s my number if anything happens while you’re still here.”--Dean

Spotting the number under Dean’s name, Aaliyah made a mental note to call it later. Maybe after the shower and more rest.

***

“This is Dean’s other, other cell, so you must know what to do,” the greeted stated before the beep.

#spn fic

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