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#im very lucky that my patio faces the woods
audarcy · 2 years
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autumn is settling in, and i think you owe yourself a moment with a window open, a cup of tea/cocoa, and this album of piano songs.
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bwobgames · 1 year
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Previous First
Ángel stabs him, he takes out the knife to let it bleed out
"We need to take him out of the house"
"Ángel! Over here!"
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Nadia opens the door to one of the rooms
It's the same room where they were last loop
"What...?"
Nadia enters and opens... the window?
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They take him, he's struggling
They are going inside the room
Are they putting him into bed?
"Oh"
"They are going to drop him"
They are in the window frame, Eugene is struggling against them.
He could fall at any moment
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"They... They are going to kill him. Forever, no looping
That's...
I don't want Ángel to be a murderer. He's already gone through so much.
And Nadia! She's too young to have this in her conscience, her own dad..."
"This is not fair to them"
Oliver Beebo is a man who cares about what's fair, even if it disagrees with the law
Nothing about their situation has been fair, so he does what he thinks it's best.
He runs to the window
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And pushes the man himself
"Ángel and Nadia don't deserve something like this in their souls
I can take it.
It comes with the job"
They hear him hit the ground
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They look down
He's not moving
"Even if he survives the fall, the blood loss and the cold temperatures should be enough to kill him.
He's... he's pretty much dead
Forever"
Beebo takes his phone
"He's... He's to the side of the house. I'm going to hang now. We'll be out in a little bit"
He has... conflicting feelings about this situation
Is this fair? To be killed forever against multiple killings that technically never happened?
Ah, his therapist is gonna have a field day with this
"So... he tripped and fell, right?"
"Wha- Ángel!"
"Yeah Ángel, how did he get stabbed if he just tripped? We need to add something about self defense"
"I mean, he did try to kill us. We have enough proof all over our faces"
"And the bombs, don't forget the bombs"
"Alright, listen! When we get out and reunite with everyone, we'll agree with a story"
"Because it's very unlikely they'll believe there's a time loop"
"I say we tell everyone it was something really stupid, like he thought this was the first floor or something"
"I don't think that's plausible"
"No, no, it has merits"
"... Maybe having you two get along was a bad idea"
"Wha- Im not getting along with him!"
"My love, you offend me. How could you- YOUR FACE"
Ángel looks at Beebo's bloddied face
"Are you okay?! Did he get your eye?! Can you see?!"
"It's okay, it was just my eyebrow"
Ángel takes the end of his scarf and brings it to Oliver's face
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"Is it healing?! Did he hit any arteries?! Quick, do you feel nauseous? Light-headed? What's your blood type?!"
"Ángel, I'm fine. It's already healing"
"Put pressure on it, you don't have any coagulation problems, do you?"
"I don't, do you?"
"Huh?"
Oliver takes the scarf
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"Look, you are bleeding too"
"Oh. Oh yeah, that explains some things"
"Here, I'll try my best. Tell me if it hurts, okay?"
He cleans the blood off Ángel's face
"I'm sorry about your scarf, and your jacket, and the future scar this will leave."
"It's okay, It looks good on me, and we'll match!"
"And I can just take a few millions from Coli's company for my clothes"
"Hey!"
"What? Is compensation for the damage"
"What will you do after that?"
"I don't know, maybe a stay at home husband for one lucky man"
"A very lucky man"
"You two do realize the first floor is on fire, right?"
"Oh. Oh yeah"
"Oh fuck, the fire, yes"
"Nadia, make a rope with the bedsheets from here to the patio and get out as soon as possible. Call everyone to get there"
"Got it"
"Wait, kid"
Ángel takes out the photobook of his pocket, it's a little battered
He gently bops the book against the top of her head
"Ta-da, the gift of knowledge"
"... I am very glad he died now"
"Hah, we are not so different, then"
"Die"
"Of course of course"
She goes to the bedroom
"Okay, now we just need to find a nice sturdy object. Like a femur"
"Like a what"
Beebo goes through the rooms, he finds a piece of wood
Probably for future renovations
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"Not as great as my good friend femur, but I shall love it all the same
Oh wood, thank you for allowing the deed we are doing today. Your companionship is-"
Ángel takes it away from him
"Huh?"
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"Ángel? What's wrong?"
"Aside from everything that has happened tonight"
"Do we really have to destroy it?"
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dwaynepride · 5 years
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Wishful Thinking
Summary: Palm reading. Dank basements. And a very skeptical Sebastian Lund.
Words: 4,164
Warnings: None
Tags: @stanathanxoox @pageofultron @starryrevelations @thebeckyjolene @diaryofafan17 @specialagentlokitty
Notes: highkey inspired by that one “avatar the last airbender” episode bc im trashy like that
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Sebastian had successfully buried himself in his work. It was a difficult feat, with all the distractions around the office. For a while, he wondered if he’d actually be able to get anything done tonight. You’d think the peace and quiet would lend itself as the ideal working environment, but evidently not.
Because you started laughing again. Echoed and distant in the kitchen, but still loud enough to cut through Sebastian’s focus and pull his head up to look over.
He exhales slowly, eyebrows pulling together as he wonders - not for the first time tonight - what the hell that little old lady was saying to make you laugh so much. Madame Theresa was a fortune teller, not a comedian. She read palms and dealt tarot cards all day - and yet, you were laughing like old friends.
Sebastian’s never been one to believe in fortune tellers. They’re a diamond dozen in New Orleans, and if you’ve seen one, you’ve seen them all. It was just a stroke of bad luck that Madame Theresa happened to be the sole witness in their case. The only person who saw the attack on the dead Lieutenant she had just scammed- no, told his fortune for a fee.
He had no doubt she was probably spouting out the same nonsense to you. She’s been reading everybody’s palms all day.
And yet, despite his reluctance to believe a single word she says, Sebastian can’t deny how curious he is. What she’s telling you. He blames his inner scientist, but Sebastian knows he’s just curious about anything that involves you.
He hesitates. Glances to the front door before standing from his desk and sneaking to the kitchen archway with silent feet. Sebastian flattens himself against the wall, heart beating just a little faster once you speak up again; louder, because he’s so much closer. “Can you tell me something specific? About my future?” You ask, voice bright and curious and Sebastian can’t stifle just a small wave of affection.
“Specific how?”
Madame Theresa’s strong Southern drawl wipes it away.
You hesitate, letting out a shy little huff of air, and he can imagine you shrugging. “Uh, well, about my love life.”
Oh, Score. He came at just the right time. Any sense of guilt about eavesdropping melts away at the intense curiosity Sebastian feels at the fortune teller’s answer. Not that it matters, anyway. It was just a scam.
There’s a bit of silence, maybe a small hum as Madame Theresa reads your palm. Sebastian’s heart beats faster, and he’s suddenly worried about not being able to hear her answer. But then she speaks, her drawl as confident and mystic as it always is. “You already know the person you’re destined to marry.”
“Really?”
Really? Sebastian pushes his head closer to the opening.
“Yes. He’s a very good man. Perhaps not somebody you ever thought you would fall in love with when you met him. But it’s as clear as day, honey, that you two are written in the stars.”
Could it possibly be him? Madame Theresa’s words were vague, at best. But Sebastian doesn’t have much time to dwell on the predication before you speak up again. “Do you know who it is? Like, a specific person?”
Oh man.
“I don’t. But I can tell you what he’s like...”
“Sebastian?”
The sound of his name, loud and ringing through the office, puts a rod in the agent’s spine. He straightens up, whipping away from the archway and looking over as Pride and Tammy come in from the open door. “What’re you doing?” Pride continues as he goes behind his desk.
Sebastian leans against the staircase, attempting to seem nonchalant while panicking internally. “Me? I’m not doing anything.” Smooth.
Gregorio gives a disbelieving snort, her eyebrows knitted together. “Didn’t look like nothing,” she counters.
“I was stretching my legs.”
He holds his breath, preparing himself for a barrage of questions. But movement to his left makes Sebastian turn his head, watching you pad out of the kitchen with Madame Theresa in tow. They must have heard the commotion of Gregorio’s accusations, but the only thing Sebastian notices is the light smile on your face. Barely there, but he sees it.
You turn and look at him. Eyes meeting for a moment before he lowers his gaze with a sudden fierce blush. Did you know he’d been spying?
Sebastian eventually registers Pride’s voices in the background, talking to the fortune teller. “-appreciate your cooperation, your statements really helped us. Agent Y/N can take you now.”
“No, I can do it.”
The offer to taxi the Madame home was out before Sebastian could reel it in. In an instant, all eyes were on him, and he struggled not to shrink under the attention of his team. You, especially, since you seemed to surprised. “I mean, Y/N’s been running around all day and I’ve only been doing desk work. I’m sure they’re tired.”
Tammy is giving him that suspicious look again. Sebastian ignores it in favour of looking over to you, giving him a happy smile that made the awkward moment worth it. “Thanks, Sebastian. I appreciate it.”
You part ways with Madame Theresa, and Sebastian pointedly keep his eyes away from Gregorio as he leads her out of the building. Opens the passenger side door for her, and then climbs into the driver’s seat; all without a word. Deep down, he knows why he volunteered to drive her home. But now he’s hesitant - wondering if it’s even a good idea. “So, uh, I overheard you reading Y/N’s palm, back there,” Sebastian says, keeping his voice nonchalant.
He chances a brief glance to Madame Theresa, who wears a light smile. “I was. An’ I’m not about to read yours while you’re drivin’. Keep those skinny hands on the wheel, Mr. Agent.”
“No, no, ma’am, that’s not what I wanted,” Sebastian fumbles out, and his hands squeeze the steering wheel tight. “I just...wanted to know what you saw in their palm.” Sebastian pauses, and then forces the last thought out. “About who they’d marry?”
Madame Theresa is quiet, and he can feel her stare against the side of his head while Sebastian drives in silence. He wants to break contact with the road and look at her; to gauge her reaction to his request. But he stays focused on the road, his heart beating faster than normal until she finally responds. “I dunno. Sounds like something that should be kept between me and your little friend,” she says.
“What? You’re not a doctor; you’re not bound to secrecy.”
A slow, thoughtful hum worries Sebastian as he comes up on her home. He puts the car in park, about to give Madame Theresa the same “thank you for your help” talk that Pride gave her earlier before the elder woman beside him reached out. Wiry fingers curling around his hand and pulling it closer - turning until his palm was facing upward, and she lets out another slow hum at what she finds. “What?” Sebastian can’t help but ask.
The fortune teller traces one of the lines of his palm. “Your love line,” she answers, tone light with curiosity. “Mighty similar to your friend’s. Might even go so far to say they’re connected.”
“Connected?” Sebastian echoes. “What does that mean?”
How the hell can they be connected?
Madame Theresa releases his hand, looking up into his confused face before patting his cheek with a smile. “You’ll see,” she answers. Frustratingly vague and worryingly certain.
Sebastian watches as she walks up to her home, and then starts the quiet drive back to the office. And he isn’t thinking about why he’s putting so much merit on some palm reader, surprisingly.
No, Sebastian is wondering what a love line was.
--
It was muggy in the swamps, as it usually is, but the team is just thankful that it’s a cloudy day. They were safe from the harsh sunlight and the heat it’ll bring, even if the humidity made it hard for Sebastian to breathe. He was already sweating as he strapped his vest on, wincing as the cicadas assaulted his ears with their loud chirps.
His eyes wonder upward to study the house they’ll be raiding in just a few minutes. Though, “house” is a strong word for this standing pile of wood and stone. Sebastian was sure that either one of them could look at it wrong, and it would fall over. Busted windows, chipped white paint. It looked like there was a hole in the roof, but he was too far away to be sure.
Sebastian was so focused on the house, he barely registered when you came up beside him, nudging his arm with yours to get his attention. “Nervous?” You ask him with a smirk.
“No,” he answers instantly. And he pointedly ignores the flutter of butterflies in his belly. Mostly because he can’t distinguish it from pre-raid jitters, or because you’re standing so close.
You let out a doubtful hum, eyes narrowed playfully. “You were staring off into the distance. I figured you were just worried that something would go wrong.”
“What could go wrong?”
“I dunno,” you shrug, and then give him another nudge on the arm. Softer, this time. “But either way, I’ll be with you the entire time.”
In reality, there was no real reason to be worried. This raid wasn’t for an arrest; Chris found this address and theorized that it’d be a good hideaway for their suspect. The only thing the team expected to find was a murder weapon, if they’re lucky. By the look of it, the only danger was the house itself. And yet, Sebastian immediately felt a whole lot better when you said that, and smiled at him after.
The butterflies were still there, though. They never really went away.
Pride led the way up to old ramshackle house; LaSalle and Tammy behind him while sending you and Sebastian around back. He followed your lead once Pride gave the signal to head in. Barging through patio doors where the windows had long-since been knocked out. Sebastian’s nose wrinkled at the smell of mildew, but he stayed focused on clearing the house. Making sure you were always in his line of sight.
“Clear!”
“Clear!”
One by one, Sebastian heard the others clear the large house through the mic. Gregorio and Pride made their way upstairs, but it was clear nobody was home. So Sebastian started to relax a little as he moved his eyes over to you.
The only light to see by was what little sunlight streamed in from dirty windows and tattered curtains, but it was enough to see that you were studying little knick knacks on top of the fireplace. Layers on layers of dust and grime, but they still fascinated you.
Only Sebastian was aware of the long, awkward silence in the room. The heavy footsteps overhead wasn’t enough to drown it out. So, steeling himself, Sebastian walks towards you as normally as possible. “What’d you find?” He asks, nodding to the mantle when you glance back.
And you shrug at his question. “Not much. Just...things that were left behind, I guess.”
Sebastian stops when he reaches your side, taking a look for himself. There were a few photographs that have long since become unrecognizable. A few statuettes; the things you’d expect on a mantle of a house. “I think LaSalle said this house was abandoned during Katrina,” Sebastian says, eyes rising and glancing at the walls. “I guess it’s a miracle it’s still standing.”
You hum in agreement. “Yeah,” you reach out and pick up one of the statuettes, not minding the dust, “still a little sad, though.”
His attention returns to you, turning the dusty little figurine around in a solemn silence. And there’s an unexpected jolt in his chest; you cared so much. So deeply. The sight of a dumpy house and dusty knick knacks were enough to make you care about...what? The house? The knick knacks? Whatever it was, it made Sebastian smile.
And he was so lost in his thoughts, he nearly missed a low, creaking sound. A groan that shook him out of his own head, and as Sebastian started looking around, you did the same with a confused frown. “What’s the sound?” You ask, voice low and cautious.
“I don’t know,” he answers in the same tone. Sebastian takes a step back from the fireplace, and there’s another deep groan - louder, this time. More threatening, and it sends a chill up his spine. Because the noise is coming from the floor beneath his own feet.
You take a step, as well, having not come to the conclusion that he has. And Sebastian didn’t have time to warn you before the old wooden floor instantly started cracking and splitting. Before he could even think about turning and running to safety, the ground underneath him was gone, and Sebastian felt the gut-pulling sensation of free-falling. And the fall itself wasn’t that far; it was only into the basement. A single story, at most. But the suddenness of it made him yell out, and he faintly heard your own terrified screech as the two of you dropped into the dark, dank basement.
It was over as soon as it started. Sebastian was on his back, eyes screwed shut, instantly coughing up dust and dirt and God knows what else. Carefully, he rolled onto his side, cautious of any pain or numbness that might come with moving, but he felt nothing. It doesn’t seem like he broke or sprained anything. He might develop some kind of lung infection from breathing in all this nasty stuff, but for now, he was fine.
And that’s when Sebastian’s eyes shot open, meeting blackness and dust particles that he tried to blink through.
Were you alright?
His head whirls to his left, where you’d been standing on the ground level. And his limbs go numb with relief when Sebastian finds you there, moving around and making little noises. Alright, you haven’t broken your neck or anything, but...
You were groaning. Still slumped against the floor. The drop shouldn’t have stunned you that much unless something was wrong. Instantly, he pushes himself closer, stomach tight with the fear that you were seriously hurt. “Hey, Y/N? You okay? Can you hear me?” He can’t help but belt out question after question.
But you nod anyway. Turn your head to face him, even if your eyes are still closed. And that’s when he sees it; the thin stream of blood trickling down your face from your temple. You must’ve hit your head on something.
His breath is suddenly short. Skin clammy, and it’s a good thing Chris started shouting from the upper floor to bring his attention back to reality. When Sebastian looks up, he barely sees the face of his friend glancing down from above. “Y’all alright, down there?”
“Yeah,” Sebastian croaks out, and then shakes his head. “Uh, Y/N’s bleeding. Probably hit their head on something.”
“We called for some help. Just stay put down there!”
That was easy for Sebastian to do. You weren’t going anywhere, and he wasn’t about to leave you.
Slowly, you were able to blink open your eyes. Just barely, though. Sebastian had a hard time finding the brilliant colour of your eyes. “Sebastian?” You mumble out. And your hand rises, as if searching him out.
He easily grips it tight, nodding his head. “I’m here. LaSalle called for help. They should be here soon.”
You physically relax at his words. And Sebastian is well aware that this situation is a serious one; you were hurt badly. But he can’t stop himself from noticing just how good your hand felt slotted against his. Soft, despite the dust and grime. Natural, as if it was supposed to be there.
He forces himself to focus on you, instead. “How much does your head hurt?” Sebastian asks worryingly.
“Pretty bad. Hard to keep my eyes open.”
Those words sent a jolt of alarm up his spine, and Sebastian starts shaking his head, even if you can’t see him. “No, no, no, you have to stay awake. You probably have a concussion.”
Your head lolls, fighting to do as he says, but Sebastian can tell it’s hard. “So talk to me,” you tell him simply.
Alright. He can do that. He’s never had trouble rambling about dumb topics, in the past.
But now, when you’re asking him to help keep you awake, Sebastian is suddenly devoid of any mundane topics. He’s juggling from one thing to the next, knowing they wouldn’t be enough to hold your attention, until he comes to one that has potential. A topic that’s been on the forefront of his mind since last night. Sebastian hesitates on bringing it up, but his mouth seems to have a mind of its own. “Madame Theresa,” he blurts out, “what kind of predictions did she make?”
For a moment, he wonders if this could be seen as straying into your privacy. But you smirk at the question; at least you’re smiling. “Nothing interesting,” you answer. “Stuff about my career and luck. I’ll be seeing a family member, pretty soon.” You stop, as if contemplating your next words. “And then something about already knowing the person I’m supposed to marry.”
Sebastian’s mouth goes dry. His mind goes blank, and he barely hears your next words. “Did she read your palm? I know you don’t really believe in stuff like that...”
“She read it.”
“And? What did she say?”
He’s hesitant to be honest, in your state. Wonders if it’s a good idea to spill everything that Madame Theresa told him. But your eyes are starting to flutter again, and Sebastian can’t have you nodding off. “She said that my love line was similar to yours.”
That woke you up. When your eyes open up wider than they have since falling down here, Sebastian can’t help but flicker his eyes away. “I’m- I’m sure that just means that I know my future spouse, as well. Which isn’t very surprising, given how many people we come into contact with on the job. Surely, by now, I must’ve met the person I’ll marry, someday...”
He’s rambling again. And you’re focus on him starts to dwindle because of it. He chances to shake you awake, wincing when your eyes shoot open again. “Sorry,” Sebastian says.
“No, it’s okay.” You turn your head to face him, blinking your eyes open against the pull of sleep. Keeping your gaze squarely on him, smirking just a bit. “You’re a good man. If I had to fall through the floor with someone, I’m glad it was with you.”
Your hand tightens around his, as if making sure Sebastian was there and he wasn’t leaving. He squeezes back immediately, mouth opening to ask you some more questions about the dumb palm readings. But there’s a noise from outside the house; it’s faint and barely there, from his position in the basement. But it’s the unmistakable sound of an ambulance siren.
He puffs out a breath of relief, because your eyes were starting to droop again.
--
Time, unfortunately, seemed to stretch on as soon as Sebastian sat in the empty chair beside your bed. Being rescued by the paramedics, being driven to the hospital, getting checked out by nurses; it all flew past in a whirl. But now that Sebastian was sitting here in silence, each minute felt like five.
The doctor said your concussion wasn’t dangerously bad. That you wouldn’t be asleep for too much longer. Right now, he had a hard time believing him.
Sebastian, for once in his life, let his mind slow down. He was tired; having not gotten too much sleep last night because of what Madame Theresa said, and the ordeal in the house. The sound of your heart monitor was strangely lulling.
Maybe, if the silence stretched on for a little longer, he would’ve fallen asleep. But Sebastian hears you shift under the hospital sheets, and just as he’s blinking his eyes open, that’s when he hears your voice - low and groggy. “Sebastian?”
He sits straight up in his chair, not even attempting to hide the excitement and relief and maybe just a little bit of worry written plainly on his face. The doctor did say you’d be fine, but Sebastian was a scientist. He wasn’t happy unless he can see for himself. “Hey, you’re okay,” he replies lightly, moving to the very edge of the chair. “You’ve been asleep for a few hours. Everyone came by and asked about you before they left.”
“And you stayed?”
Sebastian hoped you’d be too out-of-it to catch that, so he gives a shy half-shrug. “Yeah, I mean, I didn’t want you to wake up all by yourself. If I had a concussion and woke up alone in the hospital, I’d be a little freaked out.” Was there any way to say that and still sound tough? Probably not.
Either way, you’re smiling at him, so it can’t be that bad.
And it was good to see you smile. Despite the bandage on your head and how groggy you look, the smile was just as bright and beautiful as it always has been. Still had the same power to make his heart speed up.
Sebastian didn’t even notice the moment start to drag until the door of your room opened slowly, as if trying not to make too much noise. His head whirls around, expecting a nurse or a doctor who was here to check on you. Instead, Pride is walking through the door, seeing that you’re awake and looking very pleased.
What surprised Sebastian the most is following his boss was Madame Theresa herself. He couldn’t help the blink of surprise. How his spine straightened at the sight of her reflecting Pride’s delighted expression. Sebastian looks back, and you look equally as surprised, if not just a little happy to see the old fortune teller.
And before Sebastian can ask any one of his questions, Madame Theresa takes a step closer to the bed, her smile never wavering. “Agent Pride here told me what happened an’ I wanted to stop by. Check on you myself,” she explains cheerfully.
Your smile widens a bit, and all Sebastian can do was look back and forth between you two. “I’m fine, thank you. Just a bump on the head. I’ll be going home later.”
“Oh, that’s good,” Madame Theresa purrs out, and her hands come to fold together in front of her. “I don’t want’chu two makin’ a liar outta me.”
“A liar?” You echo.
“Mhmm. I told this tall one just last night,” her hand motions to Sebastian sitting silently in the chair, “that your love lines are connected. And I’ve never been wrong before.”
Yeah, Sebastian thought, but you never explained what it meant. You left me to figure it out by myself.
With a light hum, Madame Theresa turns and walks herself out of the room, Pride following her with a confused look on his face. The door shuts behind him, and the room is silent once again. Not the comfortable silence of before; it’s a little more awkward, this time. The two of you waiting for the other to pluck up the courage to speak first, now that the fortune teller left a huge elephant in the room.
“I kinda had a feeling.”
Sebastian’s gaze whips up when you speak, and you smile at the puzzled furrow of his eyebrows. “Huh?”
“That she was talking about you, last night. While reading my palm,” you clarify before averting your eyes down. Were you embarrassed?
His mouth is dry, but he forces himself to speak. “Really? Why?”
You just shrug at his question. “She said I’d marry a good man. One that I already knew. And you were just...the first one who came to mind. And when you told me that our love lines were connected, back at the house, I just kinda put it together,” you explain. And Sebastian could see you were hesitant; as if afraid you’ve read this whole thing wrong.
His face grows warm, but this is no time to be awkward. Sebastian reaches his hand out, carefully curling it around the hand you’ve had sitting on the bed. And immediately, your palm turns to press against his, holding it like you held it in the basement of the house.
But this setting was much more to Sebastian’s liking - peaceful. Quiet. With clean air.
Your head rests back against the pillow, and he can tell you’re pretty close to falling asleep again. And Sebastian elects to let you, as he’s a little too focused on the pair of conjoined hands sitting on stark white sheets.
The grip is loose and open, and Sebastian can’t help but to start analyzing each and every line etched across your palm.
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welldamnsatoru · 7 years
Text
Chapter 6: How could I have done this to my soulmate? // Shawn Mendes
Prologue: https://welldamnshawn.tumblr.com/post/165826891058/6-minutes-left-prologue-shawn-mendes
Chapter 1: https://welldamnshawn.tumblr.com/post/165861136790/chapter-1-youre-going-to-wish-wed-never-been
Chapter 2: https://welldamnshawn.tumblr.com/post/166035402061/chapter-2-why-did-you-come-here-shawn-mendes
Chapter 3: https://welldamnshawn.tumblr.com/post/166104883601/chapter-3-ill-take-my-chances-shawn-mendes
Chapter 4: https://welldamnshawn.tumblr.com/post/166172386006/chapter-4-i-want-you-to-want-me-because-im-me
Chapter 5: https://welldamnshawn.tumblr.com/post/166248497496/chapter-5-were-a-perfect-match-shawn-mendes
Author’s note: HERES THE LONG AWAITED CHAPTER 6! There wont be an update for a while as it was quite a long chapter. Shawn’s background is explained a lot here and I hope you guys like it :) 
Recap: “Got it.” He rolls his eyes, allowing me to push his towards the door.
I pause, watching his features turn into a small smile as I reach to close the door, I meet his gaze one last time.
“I’ll show you Shawn. We’re a perfect match.”
My soulmate was good at many things. One of them was looking ruggedly handsome in an all-black suit. The other was sneaking into my room when I least expect it. 
There he was, 5 minutes to 10:00 am, just like I told him, head to toe in the finest suit he owned. 
“You clean up nicely.” I smile warmly at him and he glares at me, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. 
“I look like an arrogant ass.” He mumbles, taking a seat on the edge of my bed as I grab some earrings off my dresser.
“Aren’t you always?” I tease, allowing him to complain.
“Very funny.” He scorns me, tugging at his collar again.
“I think you’re really going to enjoy what we’re doing today.” I grin at him and he blanches, a thin sheen of sweat might even be visible on his forehead if you look close enough. “Did you bring your car?”
He gives me a strange look. “Yeah I parked around the back.”
“Lets go then.” I grab my purse off my bed and open my patio door, waiting for him to lead me to his car- a black chevrolet Camaro. It was one of the oldest model’s I’d ever seen but looked surprisingly well kept.
“Bet you’re not used to roughing it out in an old piece of metal like this?” Shawn humour’s, unlocking the car.
“Actually my Grandpa likes to collect old cars, he has around maybe 5 of these but they’re all in different colours.” I try not to laugh too loud at the shocked and mildly annoyed look upon Shawn’s face. I buckle in and Shawn turns on the ignition, pulling onto the road.
“So where are we going?” He breaks the silence.
“Park out front the Dee Gardens and then we’re on foot from there.”
“You made me wear a suit to go to the park?” he asks, looking at me like I had asked him to do the most ridiculous thing.
“Maybe.” I giggle, winding the window down to allow the cool spring breeze into the car. The sun was beating down through the windows and I already knew it was going to be a good day. Perfect for a wedding.
“Okay, there, park there.” The Dee Gardens were a short 5 minute drive from our house and as soon as I saw a free parking space, we took it.
The gravel crunches under my heels as I get out, shutting the door and walking over to the grass. Excitement bubbles in my stomach and I feel a shoulder brush mine, turning to see Shawn standing right beside me.
“Lets go.” I grab his hand, entwining my fingers with his.
“Is this really necessary?” He holds our joined hands up as he falls into step with me and I raise an eyebrow.
“4 weeks, remember?”
He sighs, the sound drawing my attention to the faint hum of voices. We round the corner and ahead is a small clearing, surrounded by tall red woods. There’s maybe 40 chairs either side, an aisle running through the middle. At the end there’s a stand with a small archway made of flowers that have been threaded through the wire. Fairy lights were strung around the trunk of the trees, light green ribbon bows stuck on the back of nearly every chair. It looked beautiful.
I eye the nervous groom standing under the arch, talking to his groomsmen. He looked like he was going to be sick.
“We’re late.” I don’t give Shawn a chance to speak as I rush to our seats, two spares at the back as we weren’t on time. We sit down and I notice Shawn’s gaping expression, his eyes wide.
“You took me to a fucking wedding?” He hisses in my ear, and I elbow him in the stomach to stop his complaining.
“Shut up, Becky is about to walk down the aisle.” I snap back, rising with the rest of the family. I look down to see Shawn still sitting there and I grab his collar, tugging him up so he’s standing next to me.
A flower girl begins her descent down the aisle and I try to ignore seeing Shawn pinching the bridge of his nose out of the corner of my eye. Bridesmaids wearing beautiful jade dresses come next, their hair up in elaborate braided buns.
Then came the bride. Becky looked stunning, her white dress was studded with tiny diamonds and when they caught the light, they shined. The silk hugged her figure and fell away into a train.
“You sneaky little thing.” I hear Shawn whisper in my ear, we were lucky to be at the back where no one could hear us and anyone who could was more preoccupied with the bride.
“Excuse you?” I don’t tear my eyes away from my cousin, her dress was causing me serious envy.
“You take me to a wedding, get me all loved up and then you’re going to strike. You’ve probably arranged our wedding, haven’t you?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I smile innocently at him and he huffs, falling silent as the ceremony begins.
I didn’t stop smiling.
As soon as the ceremony had finished, Shawn dragged me away before anyone had noticed we were there. In silence, we trek back to his car.
“You know we have to go to the reception right?”
“You do. I don’t.” He laughs at my disgruntled expression. The car comes into sight and we head towards it.
“But what if I get approached?” I ask him, giving him my daintiest smile.
“Approached? By who, your Grandpa?” Shawn snorts and unlocks the car.
“No.” I drag the sound out. “By an eligible bachelor who seeks my hand in marriage.”
I feel shocked at the sound of Shawn laughing, his head tilted back and eyes crinkled.
“Sorry princess but the government would never let you get married while your soulmate is living and breathing just across town from you.” The engine rumbles, and Shawn changes the gear into reverse.
“Then why don’t you come along just to make sure that it doesn’t happen.” I rest my hand on his forearm softly. He looks over at me quickly before sighing.
“You’re going to black mail me if I don’t say yes aren’t you?”
“Yes.”
Three seconds of silence. He gives in.
“Where am I driving to?”
The reception was located in a pretty fancy restaurant and had a similar decorative touch to the wedding. There were already so many people here and I feel Shawn’s front press into my back so he doesn’t loose me in the crowded room. Leading the way I take him to our seats. My Mother looks up at the sound of chairs scraping against the wood flooring. Her mouth falls open.
“Who’s this Sweetie?” She prod’s, smiling at Shawn whose head whips to face me, disbelief clouding his eyes. We stay standing.
“Mum this is Shawn, Shawn this is… my Mother.” I watch as Shawn’s eyebrows raise, biting his lip to stop himself from saying something offensive to me in front of my mother.
“Nice to meet you Mam.” Shawn says formally, offering his hand for my Mother to shake.
“Likewise.” She shakes it, turning to face me.
“Shawn is my boyfriend.” I quickly tell her, yet my Mum’s face forms an expression of curiosity.
“I thought you were only going to date your soulmate Y/n.” Shawn audibly gulps. His arm snakes around my waist, pulling me into his side.
“We both have many years on our timer’s. We like each other so we thought why not get to know each other.” He tells my Mother, a frown etched onto his face. A relationship during the youthful years with someone who wasn’t your soulmate wasn’t illegal, although it was frowned upon by many people.
“Oh.” My Mother gasps while my mouth opens and closes, no words forming.
“You just lied to my Mother.” I whisper in his ear, Mum still staring at us.
“Would you rather me tell her we’re soulmates?” He rebuts, pulling out my seat and letting me sit down.
“She could easily check my arm and see my timer has gone.” My eyes flick to my sleeve covered arm, right where my timer would have been if it was still ticking.
“Then you will just have to cross that bridge when you come to it.” He frowns at me, resting a hand on my knee under the table. “Now I believe we are at a wedding and you wanted us to act like soulmates, care to dance?”
Somehow, from the time we got here and when we sat down, music had begun to play, a soft beat filling the room.
“I can’t believe you told her.” I mumble to him as he pulls me to the centre of the room where other dancing couples were located.
“I’m just trying to be what you expect me to be. You only have four weeks of this treatment so enjoy it while it lasts.” Shawn snaps and my face flushes in anger.
“I don’t expect you to be an ass Shawn, I don’t know what you want from this ‘trial’.” He rests a hand on my waist and the other holds my left hand.
“Most soulmates act irrationally, right? So that’s what I’m trying to do.” There’s a hint of sarcasm and I ignore it.
“When I asked you to give me a chance I didn’t mean change your entire personality.” I mutter, letting him sway us to the beat.
“I don’t do relationships Y/n, I’m sorry that I said the wrong thing to your Mum. Next time I just won’t say anything” He growls at me and I fall silent.
The music was classical; the instruments filling the dining hall, giving the atmosphere an old fashion feel.
“If you weren’t a member of the libertas would you still have treated me the same?” I ask him softly, meeting his hazel eyes.
“Even if I wasn’t I still have the same belief in soulmates Y/n.” He tells me, his eyes scanning my face.
“If soulmate’s didn’t exist would you want me?” I hold my breath, the question out in the open air.
“If you weren’t my soulmate I think I would have actually wanted to be with you- out of my own choice.” He lets my arm falls and I can’t speak, can’t move. I’m lost in the depth of his eyes. Even after everything he has said to me I want to pull him closer to me, into my embrace.
“Why tell me that? Why not just be with me because you like me?” He lets me rest a hand on his chest, right over his heart and the steady thump has me feeling giddy.
“All my life I’ve told myself that I’m not going to let the soulmate program dictate my life like it did for my Mum.” He whispers softly and we’re dancing again, his left hand glued to my right and his other hand on my waist. We’re chest to chest as we sway to the soft beat from the band.
“What happened with your Mum, Shawn?” I ask boldly, knowing he would either answer me or retreat away from me.
He takes a deep breath. “She was abused… by her soulmate, my Dad.” I let him talk, feeling a weight settle in my stomach. No one ever deserves to be treated the way I can only imagine Shawn’s Mum would have been treated. 
“The one person the Government told her that was supposed to treasure her and take care of her was the one that haunted her nightmares and caused black and blue bruises to appear on her skin.” Shawn looks angry now, his hand tightening its grip on my own hand.
“What did she do?” My face is so close to his that I can see the faint flecks of gold in his hazel eyes.
“She put in a request form to the Government to leave her soulmate, so she could find someone else.” In society, when a person’s match dies, we can request to form a relationship with another single match. 
“But because my Dad was still alive they forced her to stay with him.” He snarls, his frustration rolling off him. “She couldn’t find happiness with another person because they told her that she could only be happy with him. They partnered my Mother with a monster.”
He twirls me, my dress fanning out and I crash back into his chest ungracefully. Shawn doesn’t seem to care.
“I joined the libertas when my mother couldn’t take the violence any more and committed suicide.” He’s calm again. A sadness welling in his eyes. “I was only 13 and my Dad was the one who found her. He didn’t care that he did that to her. He just packed up his things and left.”
“Shawn.” I try to comfort him but I don’t think there was any measure of comfort I could offer considering what he’d been through. “I vowed that night when both my parents left me that I would never let my life be controlled by the Government the way my Mother’s life had been. Its been 8 years since then and not once have I ever broken that vow. Not until I met you.” His eyes hold my gaze and I feel a heat creep up over my cheeks.
“And that’s why you don’t want a soulmate.” I finish for him and he his hand moves further up my back so his palm is splayed firmly between my shoulder blades. 
“That’s not all.” He mutters and I feel a chill creep up my spine. “I’m my father’s son, Y/n.” 
“That doesn’t mean-”
“If I gave into this soulmate thing, gave into you,” He pauses to let his words settle and I feel my heart flutter at them. “Whose to say that I won’t turn into what my father was. Hurt my own soulmate who I was meant to look out for and take care of.”
“You’re not your father Shawn.” I tell him and he lets my hands go to cup his cheeks, stopping our dancing. “You’re not going to hurt me.”
“I already have.” He bites his lip and I scrunch my eyebrows in confusion. “When we first met at your school, Jeremy wanted me to take care of the witnesses, I said I would. You were one of them and I hurt you.”
“I don’t remember..?” I trail off, confused with where this was going. I remember having a lump on my head but I thought it was because I had fallen during the attack.
“I smashed your head against the wall and you blacked out.” He spits out and I feel a sick feeling rise in my belly.
“Shawn.” He can tell that I’m beginning to feel the effects of fear, fear of him.
“I watched as your eyes rolled to the back of your head and you passed out in my arms.” He’s put up his walls again. The shields that stop me from getting close. “And when I picked you up I remember how light and fragile you felt. I thought, how could I have done this to my soulmate?” He laughs, the sound harsh against my ears.
“You were just following what Jeremy said-” I try to excuse his actions but Shawn isn’t having it.
“There is no excuse for what I did. I hurt you before I even got to know you and I never want to put you in a situation like that again. If we’re together, you’re only going to be in danger.”
“I can handle it.” I beg him, pulling him to me as he tries to get out of my grip.
“There’s so many people who could hurt you for being with someone like me. It could be the libertas, Jeremy, the Government or what about your soulmate, huh? I could just as easily break you.” His words are sharp yet I don’t let them cut me.
“I trust you Shawn!” I say desperately and he stops struggling against my hold, stops talking, just stares at me. I wrap my arms back around him, over his shoulders and winding my fingers through his hair. Gripping the back of his head I push him forward until his lips touch mine.
I couldn’t breathe. His lips pressed feverishly onto mine and within a second he’s kissing me back. He leans closer to me and his hands are everywhere. On my hips, sliding up and over onto my back, the heat of his fingertips alighting a fire on my skin that made me dizzy.
He doesn’t part from me, instead kisses me harder, sending tremors along every nerve and evoking feelings I had tried to hide from him. I knew it now though. My arrogant, wilful soulmate had stolen a part of my heart, and I didn’t know if I would get it back.
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survivor-of-removal · 4 years
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Dark Seeker's history summer/ early autum
There’s not much point doing this blog if i don’t tell you everything thats happened so far. It was 2013 i discovered creepypasta. It was an innocent enough mistake. i spelled a word wrong... yes all my pain and suffering was caused by a fucking spelling mistake. Maybe i shouldn't of hated on that miserable sarcastic teaching assistant that tortured me every Wednesday before swimming class. Maybe my lazy ass should've paid attention.
Anyway it was me looking for a thrill. You know, a scary game to scare the shit out of myself. So i typed in "scaryest game on the internet". Despite the agony its almost funny to think that such an innocent mistake would ruin my life. The "word" scaryest brought me to the more sinister games. Im guessing it was like a deep web link or something similar because it brought me to the dodgy games. Like for an example it brought me to a game, can't even remember what its called. i couldn't find it again even after a long deep search. It had this image on it:
(smile Jeff)
i played the game. i didn't understand it very much. i reversed the image search, brought me to "smile Jeff" a combination of two images, a recreation of the real smile dog picture and the original Jeff the killer song. For some odd reason smile dog didn't interest me at first. The picture was creepy for sure but the name Jeff the killer seemed more interesting. Stupidly enough i did some research on Jeff the killer. the worst mistake of my life. i read a story named "go to sleep" yep thats right, the original Jeff the killer story, the one that tells how he became the way he is. its harder to find nowadays. The part when Jeff carved a smile in his face and burnt off his eyelids shocked me. baring in mind i was only in my early 11 years of age. i wasn't supposed to read that stuff. i remember shaking. literally shaking. i was genuinely shocked, scared. It scarred me but for some odd reason it wasn't enough. i waited three days telling everyone "i read this terrifying story" that was until i finished primary school which was after 3 days. The whole summer holidays was in front of me as well as a new secondary school. It was like everything was set up to fail. That summer i looked deeper and deeper staying up late looking at more creepypastas. Jeff was always my favourite. None of the others did it for me like he did. when i went on holiday to jersey the hotel there had about 5 acres of grounds. It had a forest, fields, and a really large patio area (like really large) where the wine cellar was and where they grew herbs and everything. The best part (at the time) was that it was always empty. The only part that really ever got used was the pool area. the other areas during the later afternoon where always empty. It had different layers and everything with a well and small little cottages, some of the places in the grounds were so rural it felt like a country village. and of course in the evening everything was empty. By then i had discovered a new favorite creepy pasta: the Rake. i used to go rake hunting in the woods next to the manor/hotel. i used to have great fun scaring the crap out of myself. now for those out there who are big into creepypasta stuff. you'll know that there's another one, a big one, one that usually sits next to the rake in terms of myths and fandom. Yes thats right: the Slender man.
this one made me almost forget all the others. From a first glance, one glance thats all it took: i was engrossed. For the next day i didn't go out exploring. i stayed in reading about him, everything i could spend hours reading stories, doing "research". The next time i went out something felt very off and as i walked around i felt like i was being watched. i shrugged it off as paranoia but returned to my families room soon after because it just felt too bad. On the final day of the holiday me and my family took a hike in the area near the ferry port. The whole thing felt weird. The fenced off woods intrigued me. something drew me closer. By now i was already playing the mass of slender man games on the app store.
When i got home it was non-stop slender man, short films, stories not even on creepypasta, stories on creepypasta and looking at pictures, videos, everything i could get my thumbs on. i thought it wasn't real. Some of you may scoff at this. Most people today "know" he isn't real. Every fucking website: "oh he was created on the something awful forums, na na na"
i wanted to believe in it, i wanted to think it was all real. It would be exiting, if i was stalked it would make my life a fun adventure. The stupid innocent ignorance of a fucking 11 year old. That was when he appeared in my dream. i cant remember the dream anymore, i have a few visions. One was an empty mossy swimming pool surrounded by thick dark woods, and he was standing in the entrance to the forest. i woke up. i wasn't scared, i was almost exited, but something suppressed that feeling almost. i cant describe it, it was a feeling of difference, the whole room didn't seem right like something was off, horribly off. i was in my room, but i wasn't. i got to sleep eventually. But had another dream. i was in a field, woods surrounding it with overgrown brown grass, the sky was blue and it was sunny, it was sweet. There were other people if i remember rightly but ill never forget the tree in the middle of the field. i went up to it and the best way to describe it is that on the tree, a suit and tie were carved on in the right place like the tree would come alive any moment. My dad woke me up. today we were going to some boats race thing. Hundreds of people were going to be there. i can remember telling my dad i had a bad dream but didn't tell him what it was. he by now knew of my creepy pasta addiction. Luckily, or at least lucky at the time, right next to the massive field next to the river there was a large dark forest. i played around in there. i was looking for him of course. surprisingly the forest felt calm.
The day was going fine. If i remember they had a BBQ on the main field anyway, or they were selling hot dogs or something. Anyway, the day was good. That was until i had to go to an aunts' birthday party. Some people got drunk if i remember rightly and everyone was "partying" a little too hard for middle-aged people. i spent most of the night outside in the pub garden staring into the dark trees thinking about slender man. i told my grandma and one of my aunts about slenderman, and they couldn't stop laughing. i was slightly annoyed by this i dont know why.
By the way if you're wondering how i can remember all this, which if sure you are it's because i have a high functioning form of autism. no I’m not a retard, the opposite in fact, i have a high IQ but do find it hard in social situations and other minor things like that. i can remember when i was 6 for goodnes’s sake. i have a good memory, its never been bad, it's been blurry at times, usually when im... when is... yeah
but anyway i was happy to go home, it had been a long day. as we were driving home i had the sudden urge to look out the window, and there he was, standing there on the pavement. i had never been more shocked in my life, but the thing i remember is confusion. i dont know why but i was more surprised than scared.
The rest of the summer was okay i guess, a lot of homework that my new secondary had set (how brutal is that, i hadn't even attended a day at the school, and they gave summer homework) and of course long nights looking at slender man stories. One i remember well is "the rocking chair" i cant find it again but it was about a rocking chair on a campsite and whoever sat in it at night would encounter slender man. i dont know why i remember that one. i was fully obsessed reading creepiest one after the other. By now they were regular stories, i wasn't scared, i was reading stories at 11 that are supposed to frighten fucking adults. i look back on it now. Maybe i didn't realize what i was doing but now i know. i was harming myself: psychologically.
School began. Or should i say hell began. The academy i attended was brutal, vicious. no one liked me. i jumped from being fairly popular in primary (people liked me because i was quirky) to being the laughingstock and the loser of not just the class, not just my year group. no we are talking about the whole fucking school. for goodnes’s sake, pupils that came from my primary didn't even like me anymore. a girl i danced with in the school disco sort of thing didn't even like me, they turned me away, i was an embarrassment. i tried to fit in but i couldn't. i tried to joke, i tried to laugh, i tried to join in conversations, but they would all turn me down as a "gay weirdo". Its painful looking back on it. i was so confused at the time. i knew no one, not the teachers, all my friends were gone and the ones that did go to the same school turned me away too engrossed in their new friends. i would just sit there at break and read creepypastas in the corner. It was an escape from hell. By now i started getting slender sickness, nose bleeds, coughing fits, nausea, ringing in my ears. and i shadow would follow me everywhere, a tall wispy dark shadow with long arms that would stand in the corner of the recreation ground at break and just watch me disappearing each time a looked directly at it. it would follow me home, i would see it outside, in town. i wanted answers. i knew it was slender man, i knew he was after me. i had the sickness, the obsession, i saw him, i got detentions all the time. i couldn't concentrate in class. Either i tried to make conversation with the boy next to me, he seemed fairly... different... so i trusted him. he didn't make fun of me like the others. By now my new nickname was weirdo. i didn't choose the nickname. i minded my own business. The first week i tried to make friends went so wrong i just sat in the corner at breaks and minded my own business, sometimes silently crying about the lesson beforehand when someone had humiliated me or picked on me for no reason. But still they came up to me and made fun of me then. i remember i had two spots i would hide. There was a pathway that went off the main recreation space up to a fire exit, i would sit by the fire exit door away from everyone watched everyone have fun, laughing, joking, groups of kids like me walking around with their friends. i had no one. no one but my stupid creepypastas. i had imaginary friends too. Tommy, cal, they were all i had, and they weren't even fucking real. My other place was behind the fence. There was a gate next to the football pitches that entered a small area behind a wooden fence. i was the only person who ever went there. after all who else would go behind some tall wooden fences into that small isolated space. i wouldn't eat lunch, the cafeteria was a spot for bullying. no one would let me sit down. i began to become really skinny. But i felt better behind a wooden fence where no one could find me than eating. At this point my obsession with slender man took over everything. in school any opportune to write about something, draw something, anything optional, it would always be about slender man. My life was breaking down. Detentions every day. i almost liked them. It was stop me from going outside. i think the teachers knew: they would send me out early to socialize. Socialize with whom? i had no friends. i only had enemies. People wouldn't let me sit down. they would shout at me tell me to fuck off. If i walked past people they would drop the "gay" insult or call me names. i never understood why. i didn't do anything. in sports, i was always the last to get picked. in the end i just refused to play, every sports lesson just made me feel horrible inside. i would sit in the corner and do nothing. i dont suppose it helped but its not like anyone would pass the ball or anything. they would call me a girl because i had long hair. It wasn't even that long. It was more of an emo fringe than anything but still, it pissed me off, and they liked that. People liked my reaction.
(End of part 1)
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