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nerdzzone · 3 years

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Only For A Moment: December

Summary: A series of shorter one shots from Chris and Whitney’s life together throughout the pandemic. Some happy times, some harder times, some fluff and some things a little more sexy - they work through it all as they try to get settled in their new and blossoming relationship.

Chris Evans x OFC

18+

Part of the Once Bitten/More Hearts series

Only For A Moment: November [part two]

Note: This is the last part of this section of the series! Thank you to everyone who has read, liked, reblogged and commented so far, I really appreciate your support and love reading all your thoughts! There will be more, focusing on their lives as the world starts opening up again, but I’m not sure when it will be posted.

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December 2020

December was a somewhat bittersweet month.

There were quite a few positives as Christmas always brought plenty of joy - and it brought Scott back from L.A. which was a nice treat for everyone - and there was also the big announcement of an approved vaccine. The roll out wouldn't be immediate, of course, but there was hope on the horizon and a clear sense of relief.

However, there were some negatives as well. I still had my concerns about how well we'd adapt our relationship to the realities of real life and, as excited as I was about Christmas, the holiday season was making me miss my family more than ever.

Chris' family was a great substitute - especially as the case numbers were low enough that we were allowed to have small family gatherings which meant they could all to stay over at our house on Christmas Eve as they had the year before - but I hadn't seen any of my own family in over a year and I missed them terribly. It made me so sad to think of how much Grayson had grown since they last saw him and knowing that I had a little nephew that I'd never even met was starting to break my heart.

In an attempt to ease the ache caused by the distance, we had a video call on Christmas Eve since my family were all together too and I was relieved that our friendly, confident three year old had no problem making conversation with the grandparents and uncle that he could barely remember. It was heart-warming and refreshing to have that time with them even through a screen, but it wasn’t the same and it left me wanting more. I wanted to see them, to hug them, to help my mom make Christmas dinner and beat my brother at the card games we always used to play. I wanted to be less than three thousand miles away and it was starting to weigh on me.

I held it together pretty well, not wanting to put a damper on the happy festivities we were having, but later that evening, when I was alone with my thoughts as I finished tidying up the dishes from dinner, it was suddenly overwhelming. I leaned on the counter as my chin dropped to my chest and the tears finally came. I wasn’t going to let myself have more than a few minutes to wallow in my sadness, but almost as soon as the tears started, a voice from behind me interrupted.

"Whitney?" Lisa quietly announced her presence. "Are you okay?"

I sniffled and quickly wiped my eyes before turning around to see her standing in the doorway with Scott, concern on both of their faces.

"I'm fine," I smiled weakly, but Scott wasn't going to let it go that easy.

"What's wrong?" He asked. "Why are you crying?"

"I just miss my family. It's hard not getting to see them at Christmas," I admitted. "I know I didn't get to see them last year either, but it's been so long now since I've seen them at all. I guess that's just made it harder."

"Oh, honey, that's understandable," Lisa assured me. "I can't imagine how I'd feel if we hadn't been able to be together at all for as long as you've been away from your family."

"Usually I'm fine," I insisted. "I think just seeing them all together and not being there got to me a little bit."

"Well their loss is our gain," Scott informed me. "Because we're really happy to have you here. I know it's not the same, but you're part of our family too."

"I know and I'm so grateful that I have all of you," I rushed to assure them, not wanting anyone to think I wasn't happy to be spending the holidays with them. "It's been so amazing how you've all taken me in and let me be a part of your family. I know things were complicated with Chris and I, but you've always been so good to me."

"You've been a part of this family from the moment we found out about Grayson," Lisa said firmly. "Whatever happened between you and Chris never mattered to us. We're glad you've sorted yourselves out now, but we've always thought of you as family."

Scott nodded in agreement and their kind words brought more tears to my eyes.

"That really means a lot," I choked out, blinking frantically to stop myself from crying anymore. It took a moment to compose myself, but eventually I let out a laugh and wiped my eyes again. "Sorry, I'll stop blubbering soon. I don't think I realized how much I missed them until now and once I get all weepy, it's hard for me to stop."

Lisa crossed the kitchen quickly and pulled me into a hug.

"If you need to let it out, then you go right ahead."

I returned her hug and was about to inform her that it wasn't necessary when Chris - who had been upstairs putting Grayson to bed - appeared in the doorway and interrupted our little moment.

"What are we letting out? Why is Whitney crying?" he asked. "What did you two do to her?"

"We were just letting her know that none of us would judge her if she wants to dump your ass," Scott lied, a smirk on his face. "And now she's crying tears of joy."

"Scott!" Lisa scolded despite the laugh that fell from her lips as she let me slip out of her arms. "That's a horrible thing to say."

"It's not true," I assured Chris even though I was sure he'd figured that out. "I just had a little sad moment. I miss my family so your lovely family members were reassuring me that I'm part of yours."

"You absolutely are," he agreed, coming over and slipping his arm around my waist before pressing a kiss to the side of my head. "I'm sorry that you're sad, but do you remember what I told you last year?"

I'd spent a lot of time trying to block out the memory of last Christmas in the months after it happened and apparently I'd done a good enough job to not know what he was talking about.

"No," I shook my head. "What?"

"There's no time for worryin' at Christmas!" He reminded me. "Let's get you a drink and turn that frown around!"

"Alright, that sounds good," I laughed as I slid out of his grasp. "Lisa, can I get you another glass of wine?"

"Oh, yes, that's actually why we came in here," she smiled. "We were sent to get everyone another round."

"Perfect," Chris grinned as he opened the fridge and started pulling out supplies.

He poured drinks for everyone, but held me back as his brother and mother left the room with as many drinks as they could carry. He pulled me into his arms again before I could pick my drink up off the counter.

"Are you good?" He asked, rubbing his thumb on the exposed skin just above my jeans. "I'm sorry that you miss your family."

"I'm fine," I smiled up at him. "It was just hard seeing them all together tonight and not being there. I do miss them, but I'm okay. I'm happy to be here with you and your family."

"As soon as things get better, we can go and visit," he promised. "I think I'll have to head to L.A. in the near future anyway. Now there's a vaccine and things might start to improve, there's more talk of starting The Grey Man."

While the thought of a trip to L.A. was encouraging in theory, it made my stomach turn. Travelling while the pandemic was still around seemed very stressful - if Scott's journey home for the holidays was anything to go by - and the thought of Chris returning to work was something I wasn’t eager to think about. I knew he was trying to make me feel better though so I stretched up and placed a kiss on his lips.

"That would be nice," I smiled. "I'd like you to get to know my family a bit more."

"I'd like that too," he nodded. "As soon as we can, I promise."

As I slipped out of his grasp, I tried to focus on that hopeful promise and push any sad feelings from my mind.

The rest of that evening was pretty lowkey. We knew that the kids would be up at the crack of dawn as they were the year before and went to bed early in preparation for that. It was a decision that I was very grateful for at six thirty the next morning when Grayson woke us up by launching himself onto our bed.

“Merry Christmas!”

His little voice cut through the silence of the room, ruining any possibility that we might have been able to sleep a little longer.

“Merry Christmas, Gray,” I heard Chris answer as I rolled over. Just as I turned to face him, Chris dragged him down from where he was bouncing on the bed and pulled him against his chest. “Let’s go back to sleep. Okay, buddy?”

We all knew that wasn’t going to happen and Grayson proved it as he giggled and wiggled around, squealing loud enough to ensure that no one in the house could possibly still be asleep.

“Gray! Shhh,” I laughed, pulling him out of Chris’ arms and into my own. “Merry Christmas.”

I kissed the top of his head and he pulled back, grinning up at me.

“Santa came, Mama!”

“Did he?” I gasped. “That’s so exciting!”

“There’s so much presents!”

“Wow, I guess we should go see who they’re for!”

“Probably me,” Chris teased Gray. “I bet they’re all for me and maybe one for your mom.”

“And for me?”

The hope in Grayson’s voice had me interjecting before Chris could tease him any more.

“I’m sure there are some for you,” I assured him. “I bet there’s some for everyone.”

“Even Uncle Scott?”

That question earned a howl of laughter from Chris, but I nodded.

“Even Uncle Scott,” I smiled. “He’s been pretty good this year, hasn’t he?”

“No!” Grayson giggled. “He scared Daddy! And me!”

I laughed, thinking back to the incident he was referencing. Ever since Scott returned from L.A., he and Chris had created some kind of ‘scare war’ where they were competing to see who could scare the other in the best way. They posted the videos on Instagram and their fans loved it, but it had gotten a little out of hand. Scott caught Chris off guard when he came home from a walk with Dodger the day before and got an excellent reaction from him, but he didn’t realize that Grayson was with him too. The poor kid was terrified and cried for almost fifteen minutes afterwards. Scott had been incredibly apologetic and tried to make it up to him, but apparently Gray wasn’t feeling particularly forgiving.

“He did scare us and that wasn’t very nice,” Chris agreed. “He’s probably on the naughty list!”

“Yeah!” Grayson grinned at his dad. “Let’s go see!”

He scrambled off the bed almost as quickly as he’d climbed up in the first place. Once the sound of his heavy footsteps faded as he ran down the hall, Chris pulled me into his arms.

“Merry Christmas, Win.”

“Merry Christmas,” I smiled up at him. “Crazy to think that we woke up like this a year ago too.”

“Almost exactly like this,” Chris smirked. “Until you snuck out of bed as if I wouldn’t know we’d been cuddling all night.”

My jaw dropped slightly.

“You knew?”

“Of course, I knew!” Chris chuckled. “I’d been awake for almost half an hour before you woke up, but it felt so nice cuddlin’ you that I didn’t wanna move.”

“That’s so embarrassing,” I laughed, burying my head in his chest as he assured me that it wasn’t. “But it’s so strange to think that if there hadn’t been that snow storm and I hadn’t stayed over that night, maybe we wouldn’t even be here now.”

“Do you really think that?”

“It’s hard to say,” I admitted. “I think we would have ended up quarantining together, but if we hadn’t had that slip up at Christmas, we wouldn’t have had the same incentive to talk about things during lockdown.”

“But that slip up showed that the feelings were there,” Chris pointed out. “So, maybe it would have happened while we were locked in this big ol’ house anyway.”

“I like to think so,” I smiled. “Either way, I’m happy it did.”

“Me too,” Chris placed a kiss on the top of my head as the sounds of excited children floated down the hall towards us. “I guess we should get up before they come looking for us.”

I reluctantly agreed and we dragged ourselves out of bed to join the festivities.

Christmas morning was much the same as the year before. The kids were overwhelmed with excitement at all the gifts, but very grateful and appreciative of everything they received. Chris bought me some new cameras that I’d mentioned wanting to buy before my work picked up again, but it was my gift to him that I was really excited about.

I watched as he opened the box that I’d carefully wrapped and pulled out the photo album that I’d put inside.

“Wow,” Chris murmured as he flipped through the pages with a soft smile on his face. “Are these all of me and Gray?”

“There’s some of Dodger too, but yeah, mostly it’s you and Gray,” I informed him. “I just thought, it’s been such a crazy year and there’s been a lot of stress, but there were some good moments too and I wanted you to have some memories of those.”

“This is amazing…”

He flipped through the pages that I’d filled - in order by month - of all the pictures that I’d taken since the start of the pandemic. There were some of him helping Grayson ride his bike, some of them reading together and doing puzzles, some of them playing in the pool, some of them raking leaves in the fall, carving pumpkins at Halloween, cooking dinner together, curled up on the couch watching movies and pretty much every other day to day activity that they did together through the lockdown. I was amazed by how many pictures I’d taken when I started compiling them, but I knew it was a gift that he would appreciate.

“That’s one of my favourites,” I giggled, pointing to a picture of bath time one night when Chris had fashioned them both beards made out of bubbles.

“I love them all,” he smiled, looking up at me with glassy eyes. “Thank you, Winnie. Thank you so much.”

I leaned in to place a soft kiss on his lips as Lisa moved to stand behind her son and sneak a peek at the album.

“That’s such a wonderful gift, Whitney,” she gushed. “Those pictures are beautiful.”

“Thank you. If you look through it later and pick out your favourites, I can make you some copies.”

“That would be great!” She grinned. “I would love that, if you don’t mind.”

I assured her that it would be no trouble and made notes of a few that I thought she might want as Chris and I spent the next half an hour flipping through the album and reminiscing on the happy moments we shared as a family during a very dark year. It was a rather odd feeling that such a bleak time had also been such a happy one for us. I was beyond grateful that our families had been relatively untouched by the virus plaguing the world and was more than happy to join Scott in his toast to all our continued good health when he brought out the mimosas as soon as all the presents were unwrapped.

The rest of the day was filled with plenty of love and appreciation of our little family and the opportunity to be together. As we had the year before, we called all the relatives who lived too far away to join us before spending most of the day playing games, drinking fancy Christmas cocktails and eating delicious food. We had learned something from the previous years celebrations though and didn’t let ourselves get quite as intoxicated as we had back then.

All in all it was a lovely day and my heart was feeling very full by the time we said our goodnights and headed to our room that evening. I was refreshed by the opportunity for such prolonged socialization and had a little extra pep in my step as I pranced off to the ensuite bathroom to brush my teeth.

However, when I came back out, I was surprised to find Chris sitting on the edge of our bed. He glanced up when I walked in, a soft smile on his face, but there was an air of nervousness around him that immediately put me on edge.

"You okay?"

My question was simply met with a nod as he beckoned me over. He grabbed my hand as soon as I was close enough and kept me standing in front of him.

"I have one more present for you," he informed me after a moment of quiet. "But I want to preface it with an explanation so you don't freak out."

I laughed nervously at that statement, wondering what kind of gift could possibly make me freak out. A car? A new house? A puppy? My mind was instantly running wild.

"Okay..."

"I know you're still nervous about things going back to normal and how we'll handle it - I can see it on your face every time it gets mentioned," he started, his words so far offering no explanation. "I've been trying to think of something that I can do to reassure you, something to prove just how committed I am to you because I am all in here, Winnie. From the moment I met you, I knew you were something special and it sounds a little cheesy and over the top, but you really are the love of my life. It took a little soul-searching and some brainstorming, but I eventually came up with something I think might help us both..."

He paused then and reached behind his back, pulling out a little box that made my heart start pounding in my chest.

"Oh my god," I gasped out as he slid from the bed to kneel on one knee in front of me.

He opened the box and looked up at me with hope written all over his face.

"Will you marry me, Winnie?" He asked, the question bringing tears to my eyes. I was biting my lip to hold myself together and didn't realize that I hadn't answered until he launched into some further reassurances. "We don't have to get married right away - we can wait as long as you want - but taking this step, making this extra promise and commitment, I thought it might give us both some comfort."

I was still stunned, completely blindsided by his proposal, but I took in his words and appreciated his reasoning as a grin slid onto my face.

"Yes, Chris! Yes, I will marry you."

Chris visibly relaxed at my acceptance and, with noticeably shaky hands, he took the ring from the box and slid it on my finger. As soon as it was safely in place, he sprung to his feet and pulled me into a breathtaking kiss.

"Holy shit," he let out a deep breath, moments later when we finally parted. "That was terrifying. I thought for sure you were going to turn me down and tell me that I'm insane."

"You kinda are," I smiled. "And everyone else is definitely going to think we've lost our minds."

"Well, we've never done things the traditional way and it just makes sense, doesn't it?" It was a question, but he didn't wait for an answer. "It hit me when we were talking in New York and you made a joke about me proposing, that it wasn't a bad idea, that it was something I wanted to do. I know we've technically been together for less than a year, but I haven't wanted anyone else since the day I met you so what's the point in waiting? I'm not gonna make decisions based on what everyone else thinks we should do - that would be crazy."

I smiled at his anxious rambling and stretched up to place another kiss on his lips.

"That would be crazy," I agreed. "And I don't care what they think. I don't want to be with anyone else either."

He matched my smile as he squeezed me even closer.

"And I mean it, we don't have to rush into anything or start planning a wedding right away," he assured me. "But I thought this extra step might make you feel better about things changing. I'm in this one hundred percent and I'll do whatever it takes to make this work for us."

I didn't need a ring to know that Chris loved me and wanted to make this work and being engaged wouldn't make any of the challenges that were ahead of us any less difficult to face. But there was something about how fearless he was in making such a commitment to me and something about the way he was so determined to reassure me of just how invested he was in our relationship that did put me at ease and fill me with confidence.

The fact that despite all the things we'd been through and all the things we still needed to work on - including my own insecurities - Chris was willing to marry me and make that lifelong commitment had my heart about ready to burst in my chest.

"I'm willing to do whatever it takes too," I assured him. "I love you so much, Chris."

"I love you too," he grinned. "And god, I'm so relieved you said yes."

"Of course I'd say yes," I insisted. "You know I love you."

"I do, but I also know you're worried," he reminded me. "And I didn't want you to think I was using a proposal as a band-aid or something. I know that it won't always be easy and we'll have to work hard."

"We will," I agreed. "But now, at least when you're away, I'll have this pretty ring to remember you by."

I pulled my arm back from around his waist to look down at my finger. I was grateful that it wasn't a massive, showy ring, but it was beautiful and seemed fairly unique.

"It's alexandrite," he informed me. "It's one of the birthstones for June which I thought was fitting for both of us. I was gonna use Gray's birthstone, but apparently April is diamond and I wanted something different. There's diamonds on either side of the big stone though so he's in there too."

"It's beautiful," I smiled as he grinned proudly.

"I didn't think you'd want something too over the top, but I wanted it to be something nice."

"Well, you nailed it," I assured him. "I couldn't have picked a nicer ring myself."

He captured my lips in another kiss and I leaned into it, trying to wrap my head around what had just happened.

"Have you told anyone?" I asked once he pulled away. "Does my family know?"

"I told them last night," he nodded. "I called them back after I tucked Grayson in to let them know. And my whole family knows because I was stressed about the whole thing and couldn't keep it to myself. Oh, and Hannah because she scares me and I thought she'd be mad if she didn't know."

I laughed, letting my head rest against his chest.

"She would have been mad," I agreed. "But I can't believe she scares you, she's like a little chihuahua. She's all bark, no bite."

"She cried on the phone when I told her," he admitted, earning another bubble of laughter from me. "She assured me they were tears of joy, but swore me to secrecy about it so let's keep that between us."

"Oh, no way!" I giggled. "That is too good not to tease her about."

"Well, it'll be your loss if she kills me."

"Again, all bark and no bite," I reminded him. "Did your family know you were going to ask me tonight?"

"Yeah," he nodded, looking a bit sheepish. "I think they're all waiting in the living room to see what you said.”

“Then let’s go share the good news,” I smiled, moving to link my arm with his. “Then we can come back in here and celebrate properly.”

I shot him a wink to emphasize what I meant and he let out a low growl of approval before dragging me out of our bedroom.

Of course, his family were thrilled that I’d said yes, even though it didn’t seem like any of them were particularly surprised. I called my family and Hannah as well before sharing a celebratory drink with my soon to be in-laws.

But it wasn’t until we laid, curled up in bed after our more private celebrations that it really started to hit me.

Sure, some people would think we were moving a bit too fast and they might have been right, if we had any intention of actually getting married right away. But for us, it was just another layer of reassurance. The ring on my finger was like a little security blanket, a memento of support for when things got hard and our schedules grew busier. It was a reminder that we were determined to make this work no matter what happened and it had me feeling much more hopeful about the new year ahead of us.

Things would change, there was no doubt about that, but we could get through it and come out stronger in the end. I knew it wouldn’t always be easy and there would be times when we felt like giving up, but with a little love and perseverance, I knew our relationship - and eventually our marriage - would only benefit and grow from our efforts.

Tags: @maggotzombie @moonlacebeam @mizzzpink @zaylaugh @flowery-mess @flowerjewels @njrronaldo7 @hockeychick10 @partypoison00 @theladybiers @sidepieces @firoozehmoon @patzammit @sparkledfirecracker @mytbel0st @chvntelle-99 @mjey12

#chris evans #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans fic #chris evans fan fiction #chris evans fanfic #chris evans fluff #once bitten/more hearts #only for a moment

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luci-in-trenchcoats · 4 years

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By Your Doorstep (Part 5)

Summary: Sam moves back to town and under Dean’s roof meanwhile the reader learns more about Dean’s hesitancy in certain areas of their relationship...

Pairing: Doctor/Neighbor!Dean x reader

Masterlist

Word Count: 4,800ish

Warnings: language, mention of accidents, PTSD, past sexual assault, injury

A/N: Parts of this series are told from two different POV’s. Dean’s POV are written from limited third person. Reader’s POV are second person (like a typical reader insert). Enjoy!…

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Reader’s POV

“Uh…” you said the next morning as you found a strange man in the kitchen. He spun around and you recognized the face. “Sam?”

“Y/N,” he smiled. “Nice to finally meet you.”

“You too,” you said. You walked over and he gave you a hug. “You get in town early for Thanksgiving?”

“Yeah, something like that. Dean said he might be out and to just let myself in,” he said. “Sorry, I thought I had the house to myself.”

“It’s fine,” you said, tugging Dean’s shirt down a little, grateful you at least had put a bralette on underneath. “He took my sister to an appointment. They should be back soon.”

“Cool,” he said as you went to make yourself a cup of coffee. “So um, I actually was going to surprise you guys today with some news. Well, you and Tessa.”

“What’s that?” you asked, grabbing your favorite mug.

“I’m moving back to Lawrence,” he said.

“Really? That’s great. He misses you so much,” you said.

“Yeah. Got a job at the big firm downtown. McKluskey & Associates,” he said.

“I heard really good things about them, at least when I worked at Hawthorne I did.”

“Oh Hawthorne is the worst,” said Sam. “They dump paralegals all the time.”

“Yeah. I was one of them. But I’m doing really good at Dean’s office. I just finished my first certification so I get a little pay bump for that,” you said.

“Nice. I know he loves getting to pop in and see you during the day, even for a minute. You’re very cute in scrubs apparently,” chuckled Sam. “I actually was going to talk to you about this but um, I was going to see if I could move in here for a bit while I look for a place. Is that cool with you? It’s totally okay if you’re not. I get it if you and Dean want your own space.”

“I’d love for you to stay, Sam,” you said with a big smile. “I really would like to get to know Dean’s family, his real family.”

“I’d like to know his new family,” he said. You both turned when you heard the front door open, Tessa giggling.

“I don’t believe you old man.”

“I am thirty one you little shit,” laughed Dean. “I so have been skydiving!”

“He definitely has,” said Sam. Dean poked his head out from the foyer and gave you both a big smile. “Hey De.”

“Sammy! You managed to get those days off work early?” asked Dean. He slipped out of his boots and jacket, quickly walking into the kitchen with a bag in his hands. He set it down on the counter and gave his brother a hug, Sam shrugging. “What?”

“Got that new job. Starts next month. I was wondering if I might still be able to crash here with-”

“Of course,” said Dean, quickly looking at you.

“I already told him it was cool,” you said, Tessa slowly walking inside. She set her starbucks cup down on the counter and got out her breakfast burrito. “Tessa this is Sam. You’ve said hi to him once or twice on the phone.”

“Hi,” she said quietly, looking at Dean.

“Sammy would you mind giving us a real quick second alone?” asked Dean.

“No problem,” he said. He excused himself to the bathroom and you got out your breakfast from the bag, Dean giving Tessa a nod. “Go ahead.”

“I want to see a different therapist,” she said. You sat back and looked at Dean. “If that’s okay.”

“What happened today? I know Dean sat in on your session.”

“I didn’t particularly like some of the comments the doctor made,” said Dean. “Tessa’s eighteen, not five. I think she should start going to a doctor for adults. Tessa’s not been happy with him for awhile she mentioned. I have a colleague from my med school days that specializes in young adults.”

“Tessa why didn’t you tell me you don’t like the doctor.”

“Because you say I have to go no matter what,” she shrugged. “I know there were only a few that we could get covered too.”

“I have a new health plan and we’re definitely going to switch you over to somebody different,” you said.

“Dr. Ketch is good. I used to use him when I was around here,” said Sam, walking back inside. “I was gonna call him up myself, try to get a spot in again.”

“I was thinking of Arthur for Tessa actually,” said Dean.

“Why do you go to therapy?” she asked Sam.

“Lots of reasons,” he said. “Pretty sure everyone in this house has so no need to by shy about it.”

“I’ll call Arthur,” said Dean to you. “It’ll be better for her Y/N.”

“You’re the doctor,” you said. You unwrapped your food and started to eat, Dean digging into his own meal while Sam sucked on some kind of green smoothie.

“Are you like a health freak?” said Tessa with a mouthful of food. Sam sipped some more and shrugged. “Good. He won’t touch my ice cream.”

“Oh I love ice cream,” smirked Sam. “I wouldn’t count on it being safe around me.”

“Are you teasing me?” she asked.

“Am I?” said Sam, slurping his smoothie again. Dean rolled his eyes and whacked the back of Sam’s head. “Ow.”

“She’s tougher than you, Sammy. I’m sure you two will harass each other to death,” said Dean while he ate.

“Mhm,” he hummed as Toast ran in through the doggie door. “You have a dog!”

“Yeah. This is Toast,” said Tessa. She leaned down and unclipped his vest, Toast rushing over and sniffing Sam. “That’s Sam. Don’t let him eat my ice cream.”

Toast barked and Sam looked at her.

“His vest isn’t on. You can pet him,” she said.

Ten minutes later Sam was in the backyard with Toast and Tessa, tossing around a ball and smiling like a little kid.

“Well we won’t have to worry about those two getting along I don’t think,” said Dean as you watched out the back window.

“I wasn’t too concerned. I know her sessions are private but what exactly happened today.”

“We talked a bit about how she feels about me being a part of your lives. She does like me, she cares about me even. But she’s still getting to used to sharing you with someone else. Tessa’s doing fine aside from an uptick in nightmares recently. Her doctor was very negative though. He doesn’t help her reframe things. I’m not a therapist but even I can do a much better job than he was. We talked after on the way to get breakfast and I think it’d be better for her to go to someone that helps her progress more, handle things on her own in healthy ways. Tell me to shove it if I crossed a line but it’s my honest opinion.”

“If Tessa thinks she wants to try a new doctor then I am all for it,” you said. “I’m glad you went with her after last night and everything.”

“She’s your sister...but…”

“I know. You watch her back and I’ll watch Sam’s?” you said. He smiled and nodded. “So I was thinking...you know how we were talking about that taking care of you thing last night?”

“Yes?” he said. “What’d you have in mind?”

“I was wondering if I couldn’t give you a little spa night tonight. A nice bath, massage, a fresh pie…”

“Mmm, that does sound nice,” he said. “But that sounds a bit extravagant.”

“Trust me?” you said. He threw his head back but sighed. “Good boy. You’ll love it. I promise.”

“How was your bath?” you asked that night, Dean’s skin all warm and soft as he laid on his belly in a pair of black boxer briefs in the bedroom.

“Nice. My skin feels all smooth. I should use the tub more often,” he hummed.

“You definitely should. I’m gonna give you a back massage now, okay? I’m gonna use a bit of some special lotion with oil in it,” you said.

“Go for it,” he said into his pillow. You straddled his back and squirted some lotion onto your hands, rubbing it in a bit before you put your hands on his back. You worked him slowly for a few minutes, Dean’s muscles tensed more than you realized. After a while he loosened up and you slid your hands to his lower back, Dean tensing once again.

“You okay? I didn’t hurt anything?” you asked.

“I’m okay. Just don’t take off my underwear,” he said.

“I’m not going to. I’m almost done and then I’ll get your feet,” you said. You leaned forward and kissed his cheek, Dean closing his eyes. He was still for the most part, his feet not too bad and his back was all dry by the time you told him he could roll over. He didn’t move though and you figured he was comfortable where he was.

You washed up your hands in the bathroom, whistling as you came out, the bedroom empty.

“Dean…” you said, the back door open. You stepped outside, Dean standing by the railing and looking at the backyard. “Dean it’s cold out.”

“I need a minute,” he said. You went inside, taking a seat on the bed, Dean coming inside a few moments later. He wouldn’t look in your direction and you took his hand when he crawled back on the bed. “Thank you for the massage. It felt very nice.”

“You’re welcome.”

He moved his hand away and you looked across the room.

Only to have a pair of boxer briefs be dropped in your lap. You turned your head and Dean was laying back on the bed, naked, his face red.

“Dean, what-”

“I’m not going to get over this if I don’t try and I don’t want to be scared of you so...there,” he said. You smiled and laid back, bringing your head over close to his.

“Want me to get naked too?” you asked.

“No. I uh, think he’ll get excited down there and I’m not...ready for that,” he said.

“Okay,” you said, cuddling as close as you dared. You laid an arm over his waist and he eased, his fingers toying with your hair. “Proud of you.”

“You don’t even know what happened.”

“No but somebody hurt you so I know this is hard for you and I’m proud of you for facing your fears.”

“It’s not as bad as you think,” he said. “It was just...judgement free zone?”

“Always,” you said.

“I got stupid. I’d had a little too much. I let...I let the chick I was with tie my hands together, to the headboard at the motel we’d stumbled into. I shouldn’t have done that with a stranger. It was fun at first and everything and then I mentioned...fuck it, I said sometimes I like when a girl sticks a finger up there, like the tip when I’m getting a blowjob and it can feel good, you know?”

“I’ve met guys that like that. Nothing wrong with that,” you said, kissing his arm. He took a deep breath and shut his eyes.

“I told her a tip of a finger. At most.”

“What happened?”

“She stuck a whole lot more than a tip in. Without prep. She didn’t care that I told her to stop. She did what she wanted after that and I was so freaked out and it hurt that I just...laid there until she was done and untied me and I never saw her again.”

“She assaulted you.”

“I did ask her to do it.”

“You asked for a tip of a finger, not whatever she did not to mention you said to stop. I don’t blame you one bit for being scared Dean.”

“I’m not scared of you,” he said. You leaned over and kissed his cheek, nuzzling his shoulder. “I’m just not ready for somebody else to touch me like that yet.”

“That is so okay,” you said. “I got you a little present.”

“I don’t need presents,” he said.

“I think you’ll like it. Stay right there,” he said. You got up and walked over to the closet, slipping inside and pulling out a bag. You carried it out to the bedroom, Dean sitting up on the bed.

“I hope you like it,” you said. You gave him the bag and he unwrapped it, smiling as he took out the new onesie and nice boxer briefs. “They’re supposed to be really soft and comfortable.”

“I love it, Y/N,” he said. “I’m gonna wear this thing like all day tomorrow.”

He took out the boxer briefs and tugged them on, smiling to himself.

“Oh wow, these are great. They’re so soft and comfy,” he said. He ran his hand over his thighs and nodded. “I know I’m okay with you. Give me a little more time is all.”

“Take all the time in the world. I don’t like you cause I want to have sex with you. I mean I do want to but it’s not why I want you,” you said as you sat back down.

“Why do you like me?” he asked. You shrugged and he tucked your hair behind your ear. “Cause I helped you guys out?”

“Because you’re kind...and you understand not being ready to be a parent...and you make me smile for the first time in two years. I missed being happy.”

“Me too,” he said. “I am very much down for a cuddle though.”

“That I can certainly do, Winchester.”

“Tessa…” you said as she was pulling on her boots by the front door the next afternoon. “Did you finish your history paper?”

“Yes,” she groaned. She put on her jacket and grabbed her purse. “Can I go? Hailey’s waiting.”

“Home by seven at the latest,” you said. “You have school in the morning.”

“I know,” she said, hooking up Toast into his vest and leash. “Later!”

“Have fun,” you said. She waved and took off with Toast, nearly knocking Sam off his feet as he came inside. “Careful, Tess.”

“Sorry, Sam,” she said, taking off with Toast outside.

“No problem,” he said. You sighed and he chuckled, kicking off his sneakers. “That Tessa’s friend? Expensive car for a high schooler.”

“Hailey’s dad owns a string of car dealerships. Plus her mom’s a doctor so they’re kinda rolling in it,” you said.

“True. I’m in the market for something new myself. You’ll have to give me the name,” said Sam, padding into the kitchen for a drink.

“Anytime. We always got a friends and family discount. Maybe we can sneak that in for you,” you said. “By the way, what happened to Dean? I thought he was working out with you in the garage.”

“I think I went a little too hard for him,” chuckled Sam. “He was laying on the floor last I checked.”

“Try not to kill my boyfriend, Sam,” you said with a smile.

“I’ll do my best,” he said. “I was gonna apartment hunt this afternoon if you’re interested.”

“Why don’t you stay here a little longer?” you asked. “If you want.”

“I don’t want to get in your and Dean’s way. You moved in not long ago yourself. I’m sure you guys want your space.”

“We have a barely eighteen year old living with us that’s gonna be here for a long time. Space isn’t really an issue,” you said. “And that was...we needed to get out of our old house. You’re so not in the way.”

“I’ll hold off for a bit then,” said Sam with a nod. You smiled and went out to the garage, Dean laying on the floor with his eyes shut.

“You alive there?” you said as you squatted down and poked him.

“I am never, never, never, working out with that psychopath again,” he said. He peeled open an eye and you ruffled his sweaty hair.

“Well I think Sam’s gonna stay here for awhile so you may have to suffer some more,” you said.

“Really? Good. I’d like him to stay. I think he was concerned about getting in your guys way though.”

“We can share,” you said, wiping your wet hand on his shirt. “Plus you’re extra hot all sweaty like that.”

“Am I now?” he smirked.

“Yes. Sweat is how you cool off so you must be extra hot. I thought you were a doctor, Dean,” you teased. He rolled his eyes and ran his hand over his face, wiping it on your arm. “Gross!”

“If I had the energy I’d give you a noogie,” he said. He sat up and leaned forward, stretching himself out. “I didn’t realize I was out of shape.”

“You’re really not. Sam’s a skinny little rail and all muscle that’s into running and that high intensity stuff. I bet you can bench press more than Sam any day,” you said.

“Yeah but he’s still pretty healthy. I am a doctor. I ought to practice what I preach.”

“Dean. You’re healthy and hot. I mean, work out with Sam if you want but don’t cause you think you have to, you know?”

“I know,” he said.

“Why don’t you do yoga with me tomorrow?” you asked. “It’s more fun than you think.”

“Sure,” he said as you helped him sit up. “I was thinking maybe once I’m not all sweaty I could…”

You both turned your heads as you heard a dog howling loudly. Your stomach dropped as Dean quickly got to his feet. He walked out of the garage and to the end of the driveway before he took off running.

“Call an ambulance!” he shouted back. You ran inside and looked for your phone, Sam watching you run around.

“Are you-”

“Sam give me your phone!” you shouted back. He took his from his pocket and tossed it at you, before you were rushing out to the garage. You jogged outside and to the end of the driveway, Sam already running down the street along with a few other people that were outside to the two cars that were smashed together a few blocks down.

You sprinted down, the voice on the other end of the phone saying help was already on the way.

“Tessa,” you said as you got up to the accident, Dean sitting with her and Hailey on the side of the road. She was crying hard, Dean holding onto her but he gave you a smile.

“She’s okay. Few bumps,” he said. You became aware of the dog whimpering and turned around, Sam helping get Toast out of the backseat. He was hurt, badly from the looks of it. “Y/N. Take Tessa and I’d call Hailey’s parents too. Tell the paramedics and any doctors she sees about the previous accident, medications, the seizures, all of that, okay?”

“Okay,” you said as you sat and he stood. “Where-”

“I got my own patient,” he said as he took off his shirt. He tossed it to Sam who started using it to put pressure on one of Toast’s injuries. “Sammy, I’ll grab the car.”

The guys headed back towards home, Tessa burrowing her face in your shoulder.

“Toast is gonna die,” she said, wrapping her arms around you.

“Sh,” you said, holding her close. “The boys are gonna do their best to get him help, okay? Don’t worry about it. Hailey, are you okay?”

“Yeah,” she said, holding her wrist with her other hand. “It wasn’t my fault, I swear, Y/N.”

“That’s debatable,” mumbled Tessa. You hugged her and glanced over to the man sitting on the other side of the street, some people over with him.

“It’s okay. We’ll make sure you guys are okay and everything, I promise.”

Dean’s POV

“How’s he doing?” asked Dean as they got stuck in traffic. Toast was still howling and whimpering in Sam’s arms in the backseat when Dean checked his mirrors. “Fuck it.”

“Dean,” said Sam as Dean pulled onto the shoulder and drove up to the light, taking a right on the red and speeding down the road.

“It’s fine. Vet is right around the corner.”

Two Hours Later

“Mr. Winchester,” said the nurse, popping into the waiting room. Dean and Sam both got up and followed him through a pair of doors into the back of the office where a doctor in scrubs was walking out of another room.

“We can’t save the leg,” said the doctor. “It’s shattered, muscle’s been shredded, veins are-”

“Is Toast gonna live though?” asked Dean.

“He should. He is banged up pretty good but no signs of major damage aside from his leg. We’ll amputate and get him on meds. If he does well he can go home tomorrow.”

“That’s great,” said Sam.

“You want to go through with the amputation then?” they asked.

“Of course,” said Dean.

“The bill is going to be around four thousand for the procedure,” the doctor said. She waited and Dean stared at her, blinking slowly.

“I don’t care how much money it is. Fix my dog,” said Dean. The doctor went back inside while Dean got a bill for the service, Sam pursing his lips when Dean returned.

“Y/N’s gonna want to pay that.”

“Y/N ain’t gonna know about it,” said Dean, shoving his wallet back into his pocket.

“Dean.”

“Her sister was just in another car accident, Sam. She’s freaking the fuck out right now I’m sure. Besides, Toast is a living creature. He’s their family and he’s starting to be mine too. Can you imagine if I had to ask my patient’s families if they wanted to go through with life saving treatment cause it’s expensive? I put it on an installment plan. I won’t even notice.”

“Does Y/N’s insurance cover it?”

“Not something like this. If it was your dog I’d be doing the same thing,” said Dean. “Toast is gonna be alright and that’s all that matters so don’t say a word about this to either one of them.”

“Can he still help Tessa? With a leg gone?”

“I don’t know if he’ll meet the legal requirements of a service dog or not after this but that dog loves her. He’s still gonna watch her back, maybe a bit slower now is all. Y/N and Tessa are gonna have to decide if they want to get another one or not. She’s been going close to a year with no seizures though.”

“That’s really good, isn’t it?” asked Sam.

“Yeah. It doesn’t mean she won’t ever have one again but it means she’s doing good. Toast could probably handle things fine on his own, depends on what they’re comfortable with.”

“That kid’s pretty tough.”

“I know she is. She reminds me of you a lot.”

“Y/N reminds me of you. Except nicer,” chuckled Sam.

“I wasn’t your maid. You could pick up after yourself,” said Dean, leaning back in his chair. “They’re miles ahead of where we were.”

“She know we knew her dad?”

“Yeah. She knows he helped but not the extent of things.”

“Ever think it’s funny, you ending up with the her of all people?”

“No actually. Our families seem to fit together is all,” said Dean.

“I can second that,” said Sam, Dean’s stomach rumbling. “I’m gonna go grab some food for us. Call if anything happens.”

“Will do, Sammy.”

Reader’s POV

“Hey,” you said later that night, the guys returning home. Tessa popped up from the couch, rushing over. She teared up when she saw no Toast and Dean shushed her.

“There’s good and bad news. Good news, Toast is gonna pull through,” he said. She sniffled and looked to Sam then back at him. “Bad news...he lost a leg. He won’t be able to be a true service dog anymore.”

“I don’t care. Where is he? When can I-”

“He’s recovering from his surgery. The vet said it’d be a few days before he can come home. Tomorrow night at the earliest,” said Sam. “Maybe we can see him tomorrow after school?”

“Tessa’s staying home tomorrow but we’ll definitely get you over to see him,” you said.

“Good. You need to stay home and rest, Tess,” said Dean.

“The hospital didn’t even take me. I got a few bruises,” she said. Dean crossed his arms and Tessa rolled her eyes. “I wanna go see Toast.”

“Toast is resting and I don’t speak dog but you are the most important thing in his life and I know he wants you to rest too,” said Dean.

“But I’m fine.”

“Come here,” he said. He grabbed her arm and ducked outside, talking to her on the front porch as Sam ran his hand through his hair.

“Which leg?” you asked. “Toast.”

“His front left one. He’s got some stitches on his body. He’ll be okay.”

“She still needs a service dog,” you said.

“We’ll deal with it tomorrow. I’ll keep an close eye on her until we figure something out,” said Sam.

“Don’t know what we’d do without you boys,” you said. You shut your eyes and he gave you a hug. The door opened, Dean and Tessa returning inside. You glanced over to him but he just smiled. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah. Just had a little talk,” said Dean. “Now off to bed and turn off your alarm. No school tomorrow, okay?”

“Night,” she said. She jogged upstairs and you heard her door shut softly, Dean taking a deep breath. He took a seat on the couch and closed his eyes.

“She alright?” you asked, taking a seat next to him.

“Yeah. I just...put things in a different perspective for her. Your perspective. She’s gonna go a little slower for the next few weeks. Toast is gonna need her to look out for him until he gets used to things.”

“I know she didn’t have a concussion or anything and it’s been a while since she’s had a seizure,” you said. He smiled as Sam went to the kitchen, returning with three beers. “Thanks.”

“No problem. They wouldn’t have let you guys come home if she wasn’t cool, right?” asked Sam.

“Let’s just watch her carefully for the time being. She might not need a service dog but she’s only going to get more independent and a year from now she’ll be in college and she’s gonna be on her own more. I told her she’s gotta think about that,” said Dean.

“Is that boyfriend Dean or doctor Dean talking?” you asked.

“It’s I care about my girlfriend’s little sister Dean,” he said. “Trust me. If I had doubts, I’d be calling for her to get a service dog lined up tonight. I think it’s a peace of mind thing right now. She can change her mind later if she wants.”

“It’d give me peace of mind,” you said.

“Yeah but take it from someone who was the younger sibling, let her choose if she wants it or not,” said Sam.

“Alright. Maybe...maybe Toast can get a prosthetic and still go places with her at least,” you said. “Or maybe he’ll be okay on just the three legs. Just slower.”

“I think she’s much more open to that,” said Dean. You nodded and sipped your beer, taking a deep breath. He threw his arm over your shoulder and tucked you into his side, kissing the top of your head. “She’s a tough kid and Toast is a tough dog. They’ll be okay.”

“She deserves a break,” you said.

“You both do. It’ll turn out alright, sweetheart. I promise.”

_______

A/N: Read Part 6 here!

#supernatural #spn #dean x reader #doctor!dean #au!dean x reader #dean winchester #supernatural fanfiction #dean winchester x reader #dean #winchester #dean spn #spn reader insert #supernatural reader insert #doctor!dean x reader

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daughterofanarcissistwoman · 3 years

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A parent who is too closely allied with a child invariably interferes with the development of the child’s sense of identity. Typically, the parent programs the child to have similar tastes and values. In dozens of ways —sometimes with words, sometimes with smiles and winks—the parent says to the child: “You and I are buddies,” “We like the same things,” or “We’re different from the rest of the family.” The parent is looking for an ally, a champion, a soul mate. In most cases, the child will comply, because pleasing the parent—and thereby ensuring the parent’s love—is more important than developing a sense of self. Survival comes first; self-expression is secondary.

Some parents are more extreme in their suppression of the child’s identity. A woman named Ginny told me that when she was young her mother would not tolerate the slightest difference between them. She was expected to like the same colors, wear the same kind of clothes, and respond the same way to daily events. If she had a different interpretation of a newspaper article, for example, it was a traumatic event. If she cried at a different part in a movie, she was ridiculed.

It was only when Ginny left for college that she had the freedom to express her own desires, and she did so with a vengeance. One of the first things she did was to become an environmental activist. Like many young people, she was concerned about pollution, pesticides, and the burgeoning world population. As a way to live out her beliefs, she became a vegetarian and adopted a very simple lifestyle.

When her mother came to visit, she immediately noticed these changes and became extremely agitated. She saw her daughter’s new life as a deliberate indictment of her. For some reason, she was particularly upset by two of Ginny’s new behaviors: her vegetarianism and her refusal to use paper towels. For the next few years, whenever her mother came to visit, she came laden with paper towels and red meat, which was her attempt to negate any and all differences between them. She could not allow her daughter to deviate from her model. It’s no wonder that a significant portion of Ginny’s therapy was devoted to reclaiming her own thoughts and feelings. “It seems everything I did for years and years was either because my mother wanted me to do it or because she didn’t want me to do it,” she told me. “I lost that internal sense of what it was that I wanted. I was always reacting to her. I didn’t know what made me happy. I didn’t know what made me mad. I didn’t know what to think. It’s strange to be discovering who I am at the ripe age of forty.”

Some parents expect their children to mirror not only their tastes and values but their negative traits as well. “We are alike,” is the chilling message, “and neither one of us is any good.” A 30-year-old man remembers his father phoning him in the middle of a drinking binge and telling him, “You and I are both failures. We’ll never amount to anything. That’s what binds us together. We’re too good for the world, so the world will dump on us.” The man tried to brush off his father’s comments as the rantings of an alcoholic, but the message stayed with him. Not surprisingly, an inability to succeed plagued him for many years of his adult life.

An equally distressing story was told to me by a woman who grew up enmeshed with a manic-depressive mother. Whenever her mother started going through one of her manic episodes, which happened like clockwork each spring and fall, her mother would zero in on her and say in a melodramatic voice, “What is the matter with you? You are going out of control!” In an unconscious effort to banish her irrational thoughts, the mother was projecting them onto her daughter. For most of the daughter’s life, she had to struggle with the fear that there really was something wrong with her. Her mother’s attempts to make her a partner in mental illness had a profound and lasting effect on her self- identity.

Some parents engage in actual brainwashing. I counseled a man who had a very invasive mother. One day, she volunteered to share her secrets of child-raising with him. “When you were little,” she told him, “I had a way of teaching you right from wrong. I didn’t have to slap you, I just gave you a squeeze on the hand and a look. One day I caught you playing with my fountain pen. I didn’t punish you. I just put you on my lap, set my pen and one of your crayons in front of you, and asked, ‘You didn’t want to play with my pen, did you?’ You looked up at my face and said, ‘No, Mother.’ Then I said to you, ‘You really wanted to play with your crayon, didn’t you?’ You looked up again and said, ‘Yes, Mother.’ And I could tell you weren’t just trying to please me. You really meant it. From that day on, you never played with my things. You were such a good child.” As he told me of this account, the man realized that his mother had systematically trained him to disconnect himself from his own desires.

The Emotional Incest Syndrome by Pat Love

#covert emotional incest #dysfunctional family #emotional enmeshment #narcissistic abuse #narcissistic parent #childhood trauma #developmental trauma #fawn trauma response #people pleasing #codependency #inner child healing #reparenting #emotional abuse #psychological abuse #brainwashing #dysfunctional family programming

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vnderoos · 4 years

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all this way ❁ stiles stilinski

au. (gif is not mine, credit to the owner) warnings / language, so many clichés. word count / 7.5k

masterlist in bio ↴

Y/N DIPPED HER hand into the giant, plastic bowl of snacks between her and Stiles, but her eyes remained glued to the tv screen, following the swirling movements of thrumming lightsabers. She took a handful of their famous movie theater mix—which consisted of popcorn, pretzels, m&m's, and mini marshmallows—and she dumped it into her mouth. "I want a lightsaber so bad," she confessed after she'd swallowed her food.

Stiles laughed softly, grabbing some of their junk food combo for himself. "You say that every time," he pointed out, looking at her from his side of the mattress as he crunched down on a pretzel.

She shrugged at his observation, a small smile tugging at the corners of her mouth, and she picked up another handful of food. "I know but that doesn't make it any less true," she explained. "I mean, who wouldn't want a weapon that could literally burn somebody's arm off," she elaborated, acting out the scenario with an imaginary lightsaber for emphasis.

He shook his head at her antics but he smiled nonetheless. "I guess that'd be pretty cool, actually," he admitted with a small twitch of his shoulders, popping a piece of popcorn and a marshmallow into his mouth after he did. "With all the bullshit that's happened to us these past few years, a lightsaber would've come in handy," he added.

Y/N poured the rest of the snacks that were sitting in the palm of her hand into her mouth and nothing but sweetness flooded her tastebuds. She nodded knowingly at Stiles. "See? Point proven," she said. "Plus, it would be a really cool to just whip that baby out at a party in college or something, too. Maybe cut a pillow in half or something or slice a solo cup out of someone's hand, you know?"

"I'm sure you'd do that more than cutting arms off," he told her and she laughed.

"Touché." With a soft smile on her lips, she sat up straighter and moved to sit cross-legged on top of his mattress. "Speaking of college, though, did you ever get your letter from G-Dub?" She questioned, talking about his letter from George Washington University.

During their senior year, Stiles and Y/N had applied there in hopes that maybe they would get to go to their dream school together, but as a backup, they'd also applied to Beacon Hills Community College. She'd received her admissions letter that morning, though, and she was wondering if Stiles had gotten his, too.

At her question, he nodded his head and he pointed to a small, white envelope sitting on his bedside table. "It came yesterday," he told her and her heart fluttered in his chest. He hadn't told her that, but then again, she hadn't told him about hers yet, either. "I was waiting until you got yours because you said you wanted to open them together. Did yours come in yet?"

"Yeah, I brought it with me just in case," she answered and she reached into one of the side pockets of her backpack, which sat on the floor beside her, and she pulled out an envelope identical to the one on Stiles' nightstand. She tossed it onto the mattress in front of her and she looked over at him. "Do you think we should open them right now?" She asked, almost nervously.

Even though Y/N had always been the type to mull over every possible outcome for a scenario like this, she'd be lying if she said she hadn't tried her very best to think positively about this one. Ever since the idea popped in her head that she and Stiles might end up at the same college across the country, she'd put every part of herself towards believing that it was gonna pan out the way that they'd planned.

The community college was her fallback for her education, but if something were to go wrong, she'd never wanted to think about finding a backup best friend. As far as she was concerned, they either both got in or neither of them did, as unrealistic as that was.

Stiles was quiet for a minute as he looked at the envelope on his bed and he nodded once. "Yeah, I mean, now's as good a time as any, I guess," he said and he gestured to his letter. "Would you pass me mine?"

Y/N nodded and she leaned back, turning to the side a bit so she could snatch the letter off of the wooden surface. "Should we do it at the same time?" She asked, uncertainty playing in her voice, as she handed him his letter and he nodded.

"Sure, we'll just get it out of the way." He took the letter softly in his hands, like one wrong move would decide his fate, and he brushed his thumb over the blue and buff letters. "I have a good feeling about this, though," he told her and he flashed her a toothy grin.

As much as she wanted to say the same, she couldn't deny the pattering of her heart or the twisting of her stomach as she plucked her envelope off of his bed. The way the two-dimensional Colonial stared up at her felt like it was taunting her, which honestly wouldn't surprise her, all things considered. She tried to push the negative thoughts from her mind for Stiles' sake, though, and she managed a small smile. "Yeah, me, too," she lied. Her thumb brushed at the lip of the envelope nervously and she looked up at Stiles. "You ready?"

She could see the excitement on his face mingle with his nerves for the split second he doubted himself before nodding. "Yeah, let's do it," he told her.

Y/N tore into her letter a little slower than Stiles did, both of their fingers ripping up the seals that trapped their futures inside. She pulled the piece of paper out from the inside and let the envelope fall into her lap. Part of her wanted to just stare at it and leave it folded, hoping that maybe that would let her stay in this stage of her life forever—the in-between stage.

Where everything was easy.

She didn't, though. She straightened out the paper and her eyes skimmed over the first line, her heart pounding in her ears like a drumroll.

Whatever it said was the beginning of the rest of her life.

Dear Miss Y/L/N, ⠀⠀⠀⠀We regret to inform you—

We regret to inform you.

⠀⠀⠀⠀We regret to inform you that your application to George Washington University has been denied.

She didn't get in.

Y/N's heart sunk immediately and it was like someone vacuumed all the air out of her lungs. She looked up from her letter to see Stiles, with his eyes twinkling brightly and a big ol' smile plastered to his face, and she could only assume that his status was quite the opposite. She suppressed every feeling that started to weigh her down. "What does yours say?" She asked like she didn't already know, but Stiles deserved to share his triumph for once.

Stiles let out a laugh of disbelief and he turned his letter around so she could see. His Congratulations stared her right in the face and her chest swelled for him, even if it aches for herself. "I got in," he told her, pointing at the page and she couldn't help but smile. "Y/N/N, I got in," he repeated excitedly.

She laughed softly and she nodded, pushing his wrist down gently with one of her hands. "I see, Stiles," she said, "and I'm so proud of you," she told him. This is what he'd wanted for the longest time and it was only fitting that he got it.

"What about you?" He asked. "Did you get in?"

At that, her smile faltered and she looked down at her paper, running her thumb over the printed letters. "Yeah, well, that's the thing." She sighed and she turned her letter around. It was probably stupid, but showing her letter to Stiles felt like one of the hardest things she'd ever done. It was like she was tearing down the foundation of the future they'd built together. She couldn't help the fact that she didn't get accepted and she definitely couldn't change it, but even so, it made her feel like she'd let Stiles down.

His honey-glazed eyes flitted over the page and his face dropped. "They rejected you," he stated matter-of-factly, but it was more to himself than to her.

Hearing him say it was almost like solidification of the fact. "Yeah, but it's okay. You got in and that's all that matters," she told him and he shook his head.

"I'm not going without—"

"Oh, don't be stupid, Stiles, this is your dream school," Y/N rebutted before he even had the chance to finish. "You're going." There was no way in hell that she was gonna let him turn down his dream school just so he could go to a community college with her. It just wasn't happening. The fact that he even considered it was ridiculous.

Stiles grabbed both of their letters and set them off to the side. "But it's your dream school, too," he told her.

Y/N shook her head softly and she did her best to smile at him. "Still. It's okay, Stiles," she promised. "It's okay," she repeated, more for herself than for him that time.

"Y/N/N—"

"It's okay," she said again, her voice breaking as she did. The harder she tried to hold herself together, the more she felt herself coming apart. "It's really okay."

And that was the last time she said it before she split at the seams, all of her strength just dissipating. Her resolve crumbled and the tears that had been stinging in the spaces behind her eyes this whole time came dripping down her cheeks.

Stiles was quick to reach out to her. "Hey, hey," he whispered, cupping her cheeks in his warm hands and swiping every fresh tear away with the pads of his thumbs. He then moved to wrap his arms around her shoulders and he pulled her into his chest.

Warmth surrounded her the second that he pulled her into him and she shifted for a second to drape her legs over his lap, sliding her arms around his torso. Y/N touched her forehead to his shoulder and closed her eyes, letting the comfort he brought her work against her disappointment. "I don't know what we're gonna do, Stiles," she admitted, hugging him a little bit tighter.

All she really wanted to do at that point was stay in his arms.

Who knew how many more chances she'd get before distance separated them.

Stiles' chest rose and fell with a gentle sigh at her words and, with one of his hands, he rubbed her back softly. "Well, I know," he mumbled and he tilted his head to where his cheek squished into her hair. His fingers brushed the ends of her hair and he threaded them through it.

"You'll be all the way across the country," she told him, squeezing him tighter. She could feel his lips kiss the top of her head—something else she'd miss—and it made her feel safe. Stiles had always had a way of doing that.

"We'll text all the time, like nonstop conversation, and update each other on what's going on in our lives. We'll have short phone calls when we're both free for a minute and we can FaceTime every night before bed," Stiles promised her, like he'd already planned everything out for this worst case scenario. She wanted to laugh at that because of course he would be the one who knew how to handle the least positive outcome, but she didn't. She just focused on the hum of his chest as he talked. "Maybe every other night if we both get busy, though. But we won't lose touch, okay? You mean too much to me."

A bittersweet smile tugged at her lips at his words and she nodded her head against him. "Yeah," she said and she looked up at him. "Yeah, okay. I just— I can't lose you. You're my best friend and I'm pretty sure I would literally fall apart without you," she confessed, hoping that he understood that the thought of not being within driving distance anymore was crushing.

His chest jerked as he huffed out a laugh. "Yeah, me, too, actually," he admitted and she could feel his arms tighten around her. Sometimes she felt like they were the only things holding her together. "We've got our whole summer for now, though," he reassured her and she sighed, trying to push the day he'd leave her from her mind and focus on the time she was spending with him now.

"Do you think your dad would care if I stayed over tonight?" Y/N asked softly, pulling away from him just enough to maintain eye contact, and Stiles shook his head.

"No, you know he loves you," he told her and she nodded softly. She usually ended up staying after every movie night whether his dad was home or not.

It was routine at that point.

She glanced over at his pillows and then she looked back at him. "Do you wanna hold me a little longer while we finish the movie or something, then?" It was almost like she didn't even have to ask, honestly, because halfway through the question Stiles was already repositioning.

He let go of her just so he could get situated and when she got comfortable next to him, he held his arm out to her. "You know I'll come visit you every time I can afford a plane ticket, right?" Stiles questioned as she snuggled into his side.

Y/N wiggled her way beneath his comforter as she pressed into him and she nodded. "I know," she whispered and she hoped to God that he would.

But people tended to get busy when they left for college.

Maybe things would be different for them.

—

The end of summer seemed like it had rushed itself that year and the day for Stiles to leave Beacon Hills came faster than either of them had hoped. Y/N's stomach had been in knots the entire morning as she tried to prepare herself to watch her best friend leave her behind. It was even worse when they'd gotten to the airport.

When Stiles has asked her to drive him to the airport, having already given the keys to the jeep to Scott, she'd agreed without hesitation. She'd figured it would make things easier, to be the last person to see him before he left, but it didn't.

It was still as hard as it'd been that entire summer.

Her heart was racing, now, as she walked with him to his gate, wondering how all of their time had passed them by so quickly. She didn't want him to go. She wasn't ready. Part of her wanted to ask him to turn around and walk back to the entrance with her, tell him that she forgot something in the car, and then make the trip across the airport all over again just to get a few more minutes with him, but she didn't. She just kept thinking about how their goodbye's were speeding towards them now and she felt sick to her stomach.

She could see his gate now and that only made everything worse.

"Hey," Stiles whispered and she realized she must've seemed uneasy because he took her hand in his softly and they came to a halt. "It's okay, Y/N/N," He reassured her with a gentleness she would miss in his smile, brushing his thumb over her hand softly. "We'll still talk all the time. I'll send you care packages. We won't drift, I promise you," he said.

Y/N appreciated his effort but it did nothing to ease the worries she'd built up all summer. She knew how this would go, so she let a sad smile make its way onto her face, deciding to embrace the situation for what it was. "Maybe not at first, Stiles, but you know it's gonna get harder and harder to keep in touch. We're gonna get busy," she pointed out and her voice was tired. Melancholic. "And you mean so much to me. I hate thinking about losing you, but it's just—"

"You won't lose me!" He exclaimed and he cut her off, tearing his hand out of hers and throwing it up in the air for emphasis.

She wanted to believe that, but: "Stiles, you're gonna be across the freaking country!" She told him. There was a reason that long distance relationships, romantic or platonic, didn't last forever. It didn't matter how much you loved someone, because if you got busy, distance could be the hardest thing to overcome.

"So what, Y/N?" Stiles asked and for the first time all summer, they were addressing the fact that things might not be different for them. The second that he left, they might just end up like everyone else and their best friend who left for college. And that sucked. "I'd cross it a thousand times to get to you, I'm in—" love with you.

"Stop," She almost yelled as soon as the words threatened to leave his mouth, cutting him off.

The look of hurt and confusion that clouded his face was almost overwhelming, but she knew. She knew what he was going to say because she'd known it for a while now.

She knew it from the way that he could read her in ways that nobody else seemed to notice, from the way that he would grab her hand or pull her into his side at every opportunity given to him, from the kisses he would pepper over her forehead during movie nights. He'd never explicitly said it, like he was just about to, but he'd never kept that affection to himself. Stiles had shown her how much he loved her for years.

Y/N loved him, too, of course. I mean, could she not when she spent every waking moment with him? They had always been so much more to each other than best friends, but she just couldn't say that right now.

Couldn't hear it, either.

Not when he was about to fly across the country.

"Miecz," she whispered and the golden brown of his eyes met her own. She could see how much he wanted to tell her in his face and her heart ached. "I know, okay? You know I am, too, but if you say it, it's gonna make this so much harder," she admitted, her voice quiet as it passed over the knot in her throat. "Please, don't say it."

Stiles sighed and he nodded his head sadly. "Fine. Just c'mere, then," he muttered. "As much as I'd like to stay here with you forever, I have to go," he told her and he held his arms out to her. She stepped into them with no second thoughts, wrapping her arms around his shoulders while his clasped around her torso. He squeezed her into his chest as tight as he could and he closed his eyes, trying to remember every little feeling about this hug. Every little detail of this moment.

She clung to his chest as he did that, burying her face in his neck. She promised herself to memorize the way that he smelled like freshly laundered clothes and cinnamon and to never forget how warm and safe that being in his arms made her feel. After that, Y/N didn't want to let him go and when the time came for him to pull away, she almost whimpered.

"Goodbye, Y/N," he said quietly, not that it made it sting any less, and every ounce of strength that she'd build up inside of her, just melted away.

Y/N's eyes began to tear up and she couldn't even see him clearly anymore. "Goodbye, Stiles." Her voice cracked, making her efforts to not cry known.

"Hey, none of that," he told her teasingly and they both laughed softly, but she couldn't help the tears that were slipping down her cheeks anyways. Stiles thumbs were flicking them away as fast as they fell and she didn't want to know if anyone would wipe her tears once he left. "Don't forget me," he joked.

She shot him a look. "You know I could never. Call me when you land, please," she said and she placed her hands over his, cupping them to her face for just a moment longer.

Stiles nodded, poking her nose with one of his thumbs gentle, and his hands slipped gently from her own. He grabbed the handle of his suitcase and turned towards his gate. Y/N watched him walk away from her, with all the belongings he could fit stuffed in his suitcase, and she frowned.

When Stiles had almost reached the gate, he stopped in his tracks and Y/N wondered if he'd her silent pleas for him to stay. Stiles let go of his suitcase and he looked over his shoulder at her. "Is everything okay?" She called out to him, worry starting to set in at that point. "Did you forget something?"

"Yeah," he told her, nodding his head quickly. He started back towards Y/N hurriedly, tugging one of his hands through his dark hair as he did, and just when he got close enough to stop, he didn't. Instead, Stiles slipped one of his hands around her waist, resting it on the small of her back, and he cupped her jaw with the other. Before she even had the chance to process what he was doing, he tilted her face up and smashed his lips against hers.

A quiet mmph sounded against his mouth and her eyes blew wide for a second, but once she got over the initial surprise, Y/N melted into him. Her eyes fluttered shut and she pressed the palms of her hands on the surface of his chest, puckering her lips against his. Maybe this would've been weird if they'd been anyone else, but after years of dancing around their feelings for each other, she felt nothing short of comfort and relief.

Kissing Stiles was like the first sip of water after a workout or the first second you sat down after a long day. It was refreshing.

And it sent tingles radiating through her body, all the way down to the tips of her toes.

After a few more seconds of being selfish, Stiles found it in himself to pull away softly, lips swollen and breath heavy. Y/N looked at him in disbelief as he did, watching that familiar, shit-eating grin tug at his lips, and she couldn't help but smile, too. "It definitely makes it harder knowing I won't get to do that again for a while, but fuck it, Y/N, I am so in love with you," he confessed and she sputtered out a small laugh, her eyes starting tear up again.

She blinked them away, though.

"God, I can't believe you just did that, Stilinski," she whispered and she smoothed our the wrinkles on the front of his shirt. "You're such a sap for this stuff."

Stiles shrugged his shoulders softly. "I mean," he paused, "I'm a sap who loves you," he cooed teasingly, looking down at her with a crooked smile.

Y/N shook her head at him. "Good Lord," she laughed and he tilted his head at her.

"You know, you don't say it back soon, I don't think you're ever gonna get rid of me," he continued to joke, swaying their hips together slowly from side to side.

"Well, maybe, I don't want to get rid of you," she said.

"Just say it back," he muttered softly, his voice having lost all of its playful undertones, and he pressed a sweet kiss between her eyebrows. "I have to go, but I want to hear you say it in person. Just once."

"Oh. Yeah." She'd almost forgotten why they were even at the airport in the first place. "I love you," she admitted, goosebumps prickling her arms as she did. "I am head over heels in love with you, Stiles Stilinski," she promised him and she rubbed one of his shoulders gently. "Now, go, Stiles. You're gonna miss your flight if you don't," she said through a gentle smile.

Obviously, she still wasn't completely okay with Stiles leaving, but this time, when he turned away and rushed towards the gate again, things seemed a little more doable. Especially when he looked over his shoulder and shouted one last I love you.

She smiled, shaking her head at that, and she watched him go.

—

Two months came and went just as quick since the day that Y/N had dropped Stiles off at the airport. In the beginning, they'd done everything that Stiles promised they would. They texted nonstop and FaceTimed every night and it had been great. It had been normal, you know, aside from the fact that instead of being an eight minute drive away, he was more than two thousand miles away.

But things had been different lately.

Two weeks ago, the texts had been more scattered and the FaceTime calls had stopped altogether, but this week, there had been nothing.

Y/N wasn't sure, exactly, how Stiles was going about his days in New York, but she was swamped. She would go to class in the mornings, work at night, and she would fit the gym or a run in somewhere in between. She felt like that was all she did anymore and she would bet something hefty that Stiles was having the same problem.

As she sat her desk one rainy night, though, flipping through her overly highlighted notes and studying for her upcoming biology midterm, she couldn't help but think about him. She remembered when they used to study together, papers and empty, snack-sized Cheezit bags scattered across the room, and she wished he was here with her right now. Stiles had always made studying tolerable with his stupid jokes and this tendency to get distracted easily. She missed him so much.

She found herself frowning at the thought of her best friend and she picked up her phone to shoot him a text.

One cliché thinking of you text couldn't hurt, right?

Her fingers tapped away on the screen and she pressed send without a second thought. She stared at her phone for a minute or two longer, half-expecting an immediate response, but when she realized she wasn't getting one, she set her phone facedown beside her. Stiles responding to her wasn't her main concern right now, studying for her midterm was. She reminded herself of that silently and she stared back down at her notebook.

She'd been so caught up in worrying about Stiles that she couldn't even remember where she'd left off, let alone what else she needed to brush up on.

Before she could figure it out, her phone chimed and she'd never grabbed it so fast. Y/N read the notification on her screen and she rolled her eyes. "I don't care about your stupid sale, Urban Outfitters," she growled.

Normally, a notification from a clothing store wouldn't elicit such a response from her, but the lack of contact from her best friend was so frustrating. Before college, Stiles and Y/N going thirty minutes without talking to each other was absolutely unheard of, but, now, they'd gone a week without speaking and twice as long without having a proper conversation. Now, she wasn't even getting a text back.

The thought made Y/N sigh, blowing a piece of her hair out of her face, and she realized it was probably untrue. Stiles would always text her back eventually, but he was busy now. For all she knew, he could be drowning in three times as much work as she was or hanging out with his new best friend or something, assuming he'd made one.

But she would hear from him eventually.

She knew that.

It was just annoying, because she missed him. She missed his dorky little smile, his giggle, and the way his face would light up when he saw her even if he'd seen her every day that week. She missed the color of his eyes, the softness of the flannels he wore, and how he would go out of his way to make sure she was happy or comfortable. She just missed him.

Life without her best friend in the same town seemed indescribably harder and it only got worse when they didn't talk as much.

Y/N decided that it was in her best interest to shut off the display on her phone and toss it onto her bed. She'd never get any studying done if all she did was check her phone. If he texted, she would hear it. That's what she told herself when she settled back in her chair and looked down at her notes again. It was easier to focus on what she was doing and push all thoughts of Stiles out of her head when her phone was no longer in reaching distance.

She'd found herself flipping through the text for not even a half an hour before there was a knock at the door and she rolled her eyes. "Of course," she muttered to herself, because if it wasn't one thing distracting her from studying, it was always another.

With a sigh, she stood up out of her desk chair and made her way over to her mirror. She wasn't sure who would be at the door at this time of night, but she wanted to make sure she was presentable when she shooed them away, at least. She tucked a few wild strands of hair that had been sticking out of her bun back under the elastic and she smoothed down her flyaways with her hands. It wouldn't last long, but it was the best she could do with such short notice.

Giving her breath a quick smell and deciding it was alright, she stepped away from her reflection and made her way towards the door. She wasn't sure whether if she would be opening the door up to a person or if it'd be something like the movies where someone dropped a baby on her doorstep, but she definitely wasn't expecting what she got. Y/N opened her front door with a lazy sigh, kicking her foot in front of it almost in annoyance, and when she looked up to greet the person standing there, her jaw dropped.

Y/N shut her door before she had a chance to process anything. There was no way he was here, he was supposed to be all the way in New York. Across the country. She concluded that because it was late and she'd spent hours studying, her mind was just playing tricks on her. She'd been thinking about Stiles all night and the text she sent was probably some stupid trigger to this weird ass hallucination, but he wasn't here.

Right?

Just as she was about to work herself into a full-on freak-out, there was another knock at the door and it sounded softer, more hesitant that time. It seemed to snap her out of her thoughts and she regained her composure long enough to open the door again. All of her thoughts that sided with her denial were cast aside when she saw him, in the same exact position as he'd been ten seconds before.

In all of his honey-eyed and speckled-skinned glory, Stiles was standing on her doorstep with the softest of smiles on his face. His brown hair, which seemed longer than she remembered it, was matted to his forehead and water was dripping off of his soaking wet clothes. A black duffel bag was draped over one of his shoulders, and with his opposite hand, he held out a bouquet of wet, white daisies. The flowers were droopy and sad as a result of the downpour, but the thought was so sweet that her stomach churned at the sight.

She looked down at the flowers and, then, back up at him, and somewhere in between, she felt tears pricking in the spaces behind her eyes. "Hey," Stiles hummed awkwardly and he extended his hand a little further, tilting the flowers toward her, and she fought a small laugh as she reached for them. She would've gotten a vase for them, but they were absolutely pitiful, now. Her eyebrows furrowed almost amusedly as she took the bouquet from his hands and lifted one of the soggy petals. "Those— That—" He started to speak, but his voice cracked. He settled for clearing his throat and he laughing awkwardly first. "They weren't like that when I bought 'em, I promise," he said, gesturing to the flowers in her hands.

Y/N couldn't help but laugh as she tilted them sideways, tucking them gently into the crook of her elbow. "I'm sure they were beautiful before the rain, so thank you," she said, sparing them another look, and she grinned up at him. Limp floral arrangements aside, she figured it was probably a good time to address the elephant in the room. Or on her porch, in that case. "What are you doing here, Stiles?" She questioned softly, her smile twitching slightly.

"I missed you," he confessed without missing a beat. Y/N's smile fell into something sadder and she felt her heart stutter. "A lot." The half-nervous, half-excited look that had been plastered to Stiles' face the entire time she'd been looking at him faltered and his eyebrows knitted together. "Is this— Are— Are you not happy to see me or something?" He questioned through a half-smile, but she could see the way it'd stopped reaching his eyes.

"No. Oh, my God, no." She was so quick to hold her hand out, to brush it over his forearm briefly and shake her head at him. "Of course, I'm happy to see you, it's just..." Y/N trailed off, pressing her hand against her forehead softly and sighing. "You can't do this, Stiles," she confessed to him, her voice rising a little.

Confusion and anger washed over his face. "Can't do what, Y/N/N? See my best friend anymore?" Stiles snapped, his questions carrying a bit of a bite to them.

She let out a huff of air in disbelief. He knew exactly what she was talking about. How could he not when their feelings were the main thing that made the distance so hard, anyways? "You can't just show up on my doorstep out of the blue like this. You can't just plan this whole grand gesture and expect everything to turn out like the movies," she retorted, her voice softer that time. She had no idea how long it had taken Stiles to get there, but she knew if it was the other way around, it would've sucked ass if the first thing he did was yell at her. "Nothing's changed. Just because you're here now doesn't mean you don't still live thousands of miles away," she continued.

Stiles nodded and he slotted his thumb beneath his duffel bag, slipping it off of his shoulder and letting it fall beside his feet. "Look, I get it, okay? I know that this is about what happened at the airport and I know you think we'd be better off forgetting we ever said anything, but I don't. Y/N, I can't," he confessed, his eyes pleading with her. That was exactly what she'd been trying to avoid, because long distance felt impossible, and every time she thought about it, she got teary-eyed, and this was no exception. She could feel the pinpricks in her throat. "I love you. I am so in love with you that it hurts to not see you everyday. I think about you all the time, I miss you all the time. Plus, we haven't talked in weeks and nothing has ever sucked more, and I just wanted to see you. I wanted to see my best friend," he finished and Y/N was brushing a tear off of her cheek.

Part of him wanted to reach out and do it for her, but he wasn't sure how she'd react, so he kept still. She met his eyes and she couldn't help but flash him a sad smile. "I love you, too, Stiles, just," she paused, before she leaned over and snatched up his duffel bag in her free hand, "get inside, already. You didn't come all this way to catch a cold," she ordered in a motherly manner and he grinned to himself the second she retreated into the house.

It was like all had been forgiven and forgotten for the time being as he stepped into her home and closed the door softly behind him. Y/N placed his bag on the floor next to him and the bouquet of drowned flowers on the table, and she hurried off to go grab him a towel.

—

When Y/N had come back with the towel, she'd wrapped it around him tightly and pressed an affectionate kiss on his cheek, before rushing him off to the bathroom to take a warm shower and put on some dry clothes. He'd come out a half hour later in a gray t-shirt and blue pajama pants.

The two of them had been in her room ever since, laying on opposite sides of her mattress with her bedside lamp on, and Stiles wet clothes were tumbling in the dryer. "You know, I was actually studying before you showed up and I couldn't get you out of my head," Y/N confessed, rolling over onto her side to look at him. She tucked one of her arms beneath her head.

She could see the way Stiles' eyebrows quirked up from his side profile and he looked over at her with a shit-eating grin on his face. "Seriously?" He asked, folding his hands over his chest, and she nodded. "The same thing happens to me every time I get a second alone and I decided enough was enough. That's why I'm here," he hummed, tapping his thumbs on the fabric of his shirt, and she smiled softly at him. "On a scale of one to ten, how surprised were you?" He asked with a smirk.

Y/N laughed at that. "I think like an eight at first, but now that everything's settled in, I'm not even fazed. I'm glad you're here, though, even if I came off a little hostile at first," she confessed.

Stiles rolled over, tired of looking at her from the side, and he reflected her position. "Really?" He questioned.

She nodded. "Really, I missed you so much," she affirmed, her heart fluttering as she said it, and she didn't miss the way that his grin brightened. "I think if you hadn't shown up today, I probably would've flown to see you by the end of the week," she continued.

Instead of following along with that scenario, as much as he wanted to, Stiles pushed himself up onto his elbow and he shot her a look to challenge that. "There's no way in Hell you'd be that spontaneous and we both know it," he said, calling her out, and she sputtered out a laugh in response.

"Hey." Her mouth opened up and her eyebrows furrowed in mock offense at his words. "I can be spontaneous, Stilinski," she defended and the atmosphere seemed to shift.

There was a flicker of something in Stiles' eyes and he lifted his brows. "Oh, yeah?" He asked quietly and his tone seemed a little darker than it had before, almost daring, and her eyebrows quirked up to mimic his own. "Prove it, Y/L/N," he hummed and she could feel a blush settle in on her cheeks.

With a sudden surge of confidence, she shrugged her shoulders. "Fine," she hummed, a sly lilt playing in her voice. "Come to think of it, I don't think I ever gave you a proper welcome," she said, and Stiles hmmed quietly, touching his fingers to his chin as he pretended to rack his brain.

Finally, he shook his head with mock clueless. "Yeah, I don't think you did."

Before he could open his mouth and say something stupid again, Y/N found herself reaching across the bed. She pushed his shoulder to the side, moving him so he was flat on his back, and in the blink of an eye, she swung her leg over his waist. When she was straddling him, she smirked down at him. Stiles' eyes had blown wide with surprise, but his grin was so eager. She leaned down closer to him, her lips ghosting over his cheekbone as she went to whisper in his ear. "Guess I should change that."

"Please, do," Stiles encouraged, his hands coming to caress her hips, and she laughed, breaking character.

Y/N pressed a soft, sweet peck against his lips, pulling back to grin at him, before she leaned in to do it all over again. She kissed him again slowly, moving her lips sensually against his, and she ran her hands up and down his chest lightly. She took it upon herself to tilt her head to the side, deepening the kiss, and a low moan elicited from the back of Stiles' throat.

One of his hands travelled to the small of her back in the new heat of the kiss and the other slid up between her shoulder blades, to keep her steady. Stiles moved to flip their bodies carefully, guiding her down onto the bed so he could hover over her in turn, slotting his legs between hers. He held himself up with one of his forearms, his other hand tracing the curve of her torso, and he continued to kiss her passionately, like the lack of contact between them the past few weeks was getting to him (and frankly, it was).

When neither of them could breathe anymore and they were panting against each other's lips, Y/N's mouth disconnected from his and she grinned up at him. His cheeks were flushed and his lips were swollen, and it made her stomach flutter to know it was all her doing. She brought a hand up to cup one of his cheeks, brushing her thumb in semicircles over his face. "I've got something I need to tell you," she said and he hummed curiously in response. "I've been applying into colleges in Virginia recently, but I didn't wanna tell you about it unless I got accepted into one," she confessed.

Stiles let his side lower down into the bed, so he didn't have to keep holding himself up, but his legs were still crossed with her own. "So, why are you telling me, then?" He asked quietly, playing with the hem of her t-shirt absentmindedly, and she waited for it to click. After a few seconds, his hand halted on her hip and his head shot up. "Wait, are you serious?" He blurted.

Y/N couldn't keep from smiling at his reaction, and she nodded. "Yeah, NVCC," she told him. "I know community college isn't ambitious, but I can't afford the out-of-state tuition for a four-year. Plus, I worked things out with NV and they said if I worked on campus, I'd get state resident tuition. How can I pass that up if it means I get to be closer to you, too?" She explained.

Looking at Stiles, she wasn't sure if the news had settled in yet, because the shock in his face was only growing. "Y/N, I swear to God. If you're kidding, I'll literally get my stuff and leave right now, because I—"

"I'm not kidding, Stiles," she stopped him mid-sentence. "I was actually thinking we could get an apartment together in between our campuses. They're only like twenty minutes apart, so it'd perfect."

He shook his head at her in disbelief. "Dude, you don't even have to ask," he replied. "If it means I can have you with me all the time, then fuck yes. When are you transferring?"

"Next semester," she told him and he couldn't help but kiss her again. His hand slid over her jawline and into her hair as he captured her lips in his own.

"God, have I told you that I love you?" He questioned when he pulled away, and Y/N laughed.

She pretended to think about it, taking a page from his book, and she shrugged. "Not sure. Maybe you should tell me again just for good measure."

And he did.

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taglist / @umpoedameron @pvintbreak

#stiles stilinski #stiles stilinski imagines #stiles stilinski x reader #stiles imagines #stiles x reader #dylan o'brien #dylan o'brien imagines #dylan o'brien x reader #teen wolf mtv #teen wolf imagines #teen wolf x reader

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sepublic · 3 years

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The Art Gallery and Mega Maze Car!

…Goddammit Kez. I really don’t know what I expected, but of course MORGAN wants you dead as well…!

Also, I called it- Morgan is the castle! Anyhow, RIP to the judge, I really liked her design and was glad she survived the zapper… But then Pig Toddler got interested in the word butter (clever writing for these two unlike things to come together like that), and I knew it was all over! Damn he was terrifying and hilarious, breaching the rubble like a freaking Mosasaur to devour the judge, alas! So much for a peaceful resolution… Also, seems only Pig Toddler and the Bouncer are left. What was up with the Bouncer at the end there? I dunno, but I’m glad the person with an actual family to feed has a new job now; Guarding Morgan might make ends meet and help them reconcile with Kez, or at least decide NOT to kill her…

Seriously though, that gag with the Bouncer catching them at the end after you forget, only for THAT joke- This show is so funny you guys.

But, let’s backtrack for a bit… Okay, that Hand Monster was TERRIFYING, and I was lowkey afraid it would join up with the posse after Kez, but thankfully not! But JEEZ, the shadowy hands, the sound design like it’s from the Grudge… And the DESIGN, it’s so visceral and grabby and uncomfortable, like it’s grasping onto and constricting and strangling you, it’s violating, and I LOVE IT! It’s SUCH a metal character design, whoever came up with it, I wanna shake your hand, and maybe even kiss you! I’ll have to plagiarize- I mean, TAKE INSPIRATION FROM, this type of superb peak character design later down the line!

But seriously, with how it’s made of hands, and one of them has a number on it… Does this denizen like; KILL passengers, and add to its mass with their numbered hands; The higher the number, the better? I’d suggest it aggravates passengers, but Min and Ryan seemed to agree that it didn’t ACTUALLY influence them, this was just all them going out… That, or it enabled them to say what was on their minds the entire time! Oof, that thing gave me heebie-jeebies, but also…

THIS is a character-heavy dump, let’s go into it! It seems Min and Ryan are afraid of being the other… But they also want to BE the other as well! And Min, he’s got abandonment issues, which makes sense- He’s clearly a more anxious and reserved person and an only child… But Ryan doesn’t think people will miss him because he feels like he’s always overlooked, that he has to earn attention! He doesn’t think Min cares that much about him, and vice-versa… Oof, love that trope, the tragedy of such misunderstanding because of insecurity and self-loathing, thinking you’re not good enough! And damn, Min really broke at the end there, thinking Ryan had abandoned him…

I do wish Kez had cleared up that the Art Gallery Car would NOT let Ryan back inside and even silenced him, but like. It still opens how he feels in general, and it led to some honest discussion in the Mega Maze Car, so it’s fine… Love you Kez, you adorable weirdo just screaming and weirding out even this hand-monster! I love how she’s SUCH a shameless freeloader, but she also serves to lighten the mood, and she’s something Ryan and Min can BOTH agree upon! She’s the glue that holds the trio together, I love and adore Kez…

But back to Ryan and Min! Like I suspected, being in a large family, Ryan feels ignored and undervalued, just another face in the crowd, so he wants to be somebody… And Min, he didn’t want to go off and abandon things, he felt Ryan wasn’t taking him into enough consideration; But maybe he also hoped that Ryan would see that Min wasn’t ready, and then stay for him? And then it broke his heart when he went on anyway… And Ryan, he thinks Min is looking down on him, and in a sense it’s like… They WANT to be one another in some ways, but are also afraid of that? Ryan wants to be more level-headed, Min more bold, but not to the extent that it becomes negative, because they can see the good AND bad in each other’s traits!

Min is kind of jealous of Ryan’s boldness and more fun life… And it’s like, these two can’t progress until they learn to respect one another’s decisions and places in life more, to recognize their own decisions, etc.? To not look down on each other, to think they have to guide the other and look after them… Hence Ryan saying initially that Min is just ‘dead weight’ to him, because he still wants to be his own person and individual and live his own life, so maybe he doesn’t need Min anyway?

And Min, he’s amazed at how Ryan can be so bold and be himself, but Min, like he said- He’s tired of faking things, pretending he’s fine when he’s not, that he’s okay with this… And he gets an outlet to admit how he feels aloud, instead of trying to be calm and level-headed about it! Min’s just having this identity crisis, figuring out who he is… Ryan probably thinks he’s secretly dumb, Min’s belittling didn’t help, as did Ryan admitting he could never get into university. Ryan doesn’t feel respected, and it’s just AMAZING how… How each has a trait that can easily be both the best and worst of them at the same time! It’s SUCH good writing… Min feels left behind from taking things too slowly, and Ryan keeps moving forward so he can stand out; One wants companionship from being alone, the other wants to be an individual and recognized!

Min thinks that Ryan complicates things, that HE’s the one making them difficult, and Ryan feels like he’s being dragged down and discouraged, that he has to pull Min along, because he DOES care and wants him; And they think they’re the others’ caretaker. Ryan wants HELP, he wants support, and he feels like he gives it to Min, but Min doesn’t reciprocate and instead just tells him his ideas are dumb. And it’s this duality of Min wanting conformity and safety, belonging, while Ryan is sick of that and wants adventure, risk, individuality and to stand out after being overlooked, to be free and not weighed down! It’s fascinating, they’re like mirrors of one another, if one were a denizen I’m SURE Mace would get a kick out of this…!

Overall, this was a really weighty pair of episodes. It helped us get into the meat and confrontation of their emotions, of their issues; The darkest parts, their low point. But they say after the low point comes the triumphant rise, hopefully… If Min and Ryan are about two coming together and becoming whole again, it could contrast with Amelia, who is missing her other half; Let’s hope it does! I’ve never seen passengers constantly go back and forth, relapsing, tugging on the progress on opposite ends- Really conveys the frustration of two people whose numbers are together, bound, like a three-legged race.

And, well, we’re on it- The final pair of episodes! And possibly our last episodes yet, EVER… This might be the last time I see a new Infinity Train episode. Here’s to the final destination, guys… Our journey might be over, maybe not. There’s more to the journey than just the destination, but eventually you always get there; All things, inevitably, come to an end.

#infinity train #infinity train spoilers #infinity train book 4 spoilers #infinity train book 4 #infinity train duet #infinity train min #min-gi park #infinity train ryan #ryan akagi #infinity train kez #speculation #analysis

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chilling-seavey · 4 years

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Anything But Mine - Lucy’s Birth Story

A/N June 24th is an important day in the ABM universe...I figured we can take a little read to find out why! Hope you enjoy 🧡 + be forewarned about plenty of fluff included here 🥺

A/N2 Also this pic of Daniel omg you can’t tell me it doesn’t look like him seeing his new baby for the first time 🥺 all that emotion in his expression

T/W Idk if this counts as a trigger warning but there are detailed descriptions of labour and delivery!

W/C 8.6k words

Daniel kept himself busy after the wedding to support their little family, spending long days in the studio with his university friend, Jack. Money was tight but comfortable and with extra funds that Callum managed to get from his and Florence’s parents back in LA, they had purchased a three-bedroom apartment as soon as possible. Clementine and Penelope loved their home, playing on the balcony as much as they could in summer as they said the 56th floor made them feel like the Queens of the city. Once the end of November came around, they were often stuck inside due to the weather starting to drop, playing under the grand piano in the living room.

Florence was cleaning up from dinner when her phone rang. Daniel always called when he was leaving work.

“I can’t wait to come home.” he said right when she answered. She could hear him getting into his car in the background.

“Me too. We missed you at dinner.” Florence replied, wiping her hands on the dish cloth that was hanging over her shoulder.

“I haven’t even eaten yet.” Daniel sighed. “I’m so tired.”

“Pick up something to eat on the way home.” Florence suggested, glancing to the two young girls across the room before she added, “and I need you to pick up something from the drug store if you can.”

“Sure. What do you need?”

“A pregnancy test?”

The silence on the other end made her smile softly. She could picture his face exactly; his wide eyes and discrete smile.

He was quiet a moment before speaking, “Yeah…I can definitely grab one. Do you think-”

“We’re not jinxing it, Dani.” Florence chuckled.

“No, of course not.” Daniel smiled widely. “I’m on my way.”

Every evening when the front door opened and Daniel came in from work, the girls dropped what they were doing and ran for him, throwing their tiny arms around him. This night was no different as he bent down to greet his daughters, pressing equal amounts of kisses to their heads. Daniel glanced up at Florence who was stood in the archway, leaning against the wall. He stood up and handed her the small bag from the drugstore with a wink, leaning in to kiss her once.

“Thank you.” She whispered.

“Daddy! Can you play with us?!” Clementine asked loudly, bouncing on her toes.

“I think it’s almost bedtime, Clemmie girl, don’t you think?” Daniel brushed a hand through her messy blonde hair.

“No.” Clementine frowned, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Tomorrow I will. I promise.” Daniel assured her. “We’ll have story time tonight in the big bed, okay?”

The girls shrieked excitedly and ran off down the hallway towards the master bedroom. Daniel took the moment of silence to hug his wife, sharing their quiet ‘I love you’s, before he was called by the girls down the hall.

After two storybooks amongst a mound of pillows and the duvet, the girls started to drift, wrapped up in his arms. Florence took Clementine to bed and Daniel took Penelope, tucking them into their beds in their own rooms. The two young adults met back in the hallway, standing with a few feet between them.

“I’m like…a few weeks late.” Florence said.

“That’s a good sign.” Daniel replied.

“Not for sure though.” Florence added.

“That’s okay. Do you want me with you?” Daniel asked her quietly.

“Of course.” Florence nodded.

They found themselves in the ensuite, staring at the unopened box of two pregnancy tests on the counter. They stood there a while, Daniel waiting for Florence to make her first move. He glanced at her.

“They won’t tell us anything if you don’t take them.” Daniel chuckled.

Florence took a deep breath and took the box with her to the bathroom. She shut the door and got to work. Daniel sat on the counter waiting for her, finishing the now cold take-out from McDonald’s he picked up on the way home. She came back out and washed her hands, leaving the two tests in the opened box between them.

“I don’t know why I’m nervous.” Florence whispered, leaning her hands on the counter.

“I thought you wanted another one?” Daniel frowned, pulling lightly at her arm so she moved to stand between his legs.

“I do. So bad. Maybe I’m nervous that it will be negative.” Florence sighed.

“So we try again.” Daniel shrugged, taking her hands in his. “And again and again and again-“

Florence rolled her eyes at him through a smile, letting him press a kiss to her lips. They fell into silence as they waited, hands together.

“I’ve never been with someone when I do this.” Florence admitted. “It’s kind of nice.”

“Isn’t it?” Daniel smiled.

“Thank you for being here.”

“You’re my wife now, remember? I gotta be here with you for everything.” Daniel said, taking her face in his hands. “No going through things by yourself anymore.”

Florence took the front of his shirt in her hands and pulled him in for a lingering kiss.

“Can we look, yet?” Daniel finally mumbled against her mouth. “I’m dying here.”

“Yeah.” Florence said, picking up the box again. She dumped both tests into her hand, hiding the screen face down. She passed one to Daniel and kept one for herself.

They both stared down at the hidden tests in their hand before looking back up to each other.

“I’m nervous!” Florence shrieked quietly, bouncing on her toes a little.

“Count to 3, okay?” Daniel smiled, reaching out his one free hand to hold hers. “1…2…3…”

They both turned the screens face up in their palms, each showing a clear pair of solid pink lines.

“Dani…” Florence breathed, squeezing his hand.

“2 lines is good, right?!” he asked quickly, looking up at her.

“So good.” Florence nodded, tears welling in her eyes.

“Oh my gosh.” Daniel whispered, hoping off the counter to wrap her in a tight hug. “We’re gonna have a baby. Together this time.”

Florence laughed lightly against his shoulder, staring at the positive pregnancy test in her hand, “I love you.”

“I love you so much.” Daniel smiled.

“But seriously, Dani.” Florence pulled back from their hug, “I’m worried. Penelope came so early. The doctors said it was from the stress I was constantly in and I don’t want that to happen again. We lucked out with her health but-“

“There’s no reason to be stressed this time.” Daniel assured her, brushing her hair back form her face, “I’m going to be with you through everything. Every doctor’s appointment and everything.”

“Don’t promise that.” Florence chuckled. “You have a job.”

“The last two times you had to do so much on your own. I want to be here for everything. We’re going to do it right this time. I promise.”

Christmas was only a few weeks away and keeping such a big secret was agonizing. They had planned the announcement for Christmas and swore themselves to secrecy. Daniel had to somehow see Jack almost every day at the studio and not say anything. Their first obstacle was telling their two girls who they knew had to be told first. Christmas Eve brought the perfect opportunity, the small family back in Vancouver with Daniel’s family for their annual Christmas visit. Still in their dresses and stockings from church, Clementine and Penelope were each handed a wrapped box as the family of four sat on the rug in front of the lit Christmas tree and warm fireplace, Daniel’s parents and siblings sitting around the couches. It was always a tradition to open one gift on Christmas Eve so this wasn’t unusual to the girls.

Clementine, who was closing in on 5 years old quickly, tore open the paper excitedly, her 18-month younger sister desperately trying to keep up. Inside the boxes were a set of pyjamas for each of them. The candy cane patterned sleeves and trim on the shirt matched the pants, Florence and Daniel both having their own matching pair in their room. The girls’ had writing on their shirts, however, the I’s of the red lettering were peppermint wheels reading ‘Big Sister’.

Clementine could read hers easily, the fact easily understood since she had been a big sister for 4 years. Penelope simply stared at hers, the 4-year-old not quite grasping full words yet.

“What does it say, Penny?” Florence asked.

“I dunno.” Penelope giggled shyly.

“Hers says ‘Big Sister’ too.” Clementine said. “That’s wrong. She’s the little sister.”

“She won’t be for long.” Daniel said through a smile.

“Oh my gosh!” Anna shrieked, clapping her hands over her mouth. “You’re pregnant?!”

Florence laughed and nodded lightly.

“No, you’re not!” Keri gaped.

“Yes, we are.” Florence giggled as Daniel pressed a kiss to her cheek, tucking his arm around her shoulders to pull her close.

The adults got up to share eager hugs and congratulations, a few happy tears being shed in the process. The young girls stared blankly at them, not quite grasping what was happening.

Christian bent down between the girls, “You guys are going to have a little brother or sister.”

“A baby?” Clementine looked up at her parents.

“Yeah, Clemmy girl, a brand-new baby!” Daniel smiled, sitting back on the rug again.

“Are you happy?” Florence asked as she joined him.

“Yeah.” Clementine shrieked suddenly, tossing the tissue paper in the air and nearly hitting Christian in the face.

“What about you, bug?” Daniel asked their soft-spoken second daughter. “You want a brother or sister?”

Penelope’s little smile brightened at his gentle acknowledgment, her rosy cheeks hiding behind her new pyjamas as everyone looked at her. She nodded gently, her soft giggle muffled by the clean fabric.

“Mommy’s having a baby, Nell!” Clementine yelled, tackling her younger sister onto the carpet.

“Clem, you’re more excited than all of us combined.” Florence laughed, grabbing the eldest by her waist and pulled her onto her lap.

“Do you want to see a picture of the baby?” Daniel asked the room.

“Yes please!” Penelope kicked her legs in the air, her red dress flying up by her head.

Daniel pulled her towards him by her ankles before taking her hands so she was on her feet. She draped her arm around his shoulder and the rest of the family gathered around behind them as he unlocked his phone to open the email from the doctor’s office. The black and white image of the little blob filled his screen.

“Wow.” Clementine breathed, leaning over to get a better look as the room awe’d gently. Penelope pulled the hem of her dress up to bite at, her wide blue eyes scanning the still image awestruck.

“Who do you think it looks like?” Daniel asked, gently pulling the dress out of her mouth.

“Me!” Clementine shouted.

“You?!” Florence laughed.

“Where is the baby?” Penelope whispered, leaning her head on Daniel’s.

“In my tummy.” Florence said.

“Why?”

“Because that’s just where babies grow.” Florence shrugged.

“How did it get there?” Penelope yawned.

“Yeah! How did it get there?�� Clementine added, looking between her parents.

“Oh, Lord.” Christian laughed loudly, stepping back and headed for the kitchen, “I’m going to get a drink.”

Daniel chuckled nervously, telling his daughters, “A little magic from the wedding.”

“Do I get some too?” Clementine asked.

“Not until you get married which isn’t for years and years from now.” Daniel said.

“Many, many years.” Keri jumped in, scooping up her granddaughter. “Even more than your Mommy and Daddy waited.”

Daniel glared playfully at her, making the adults laugh.

“Why don’t we get into our pj’s and then have story time by the fire before we have to get into bed?” Florence suggested.

And that’s what they did, the four of them changing into their matching pyjamas for their last Christmas as a family of four, cuddled up on the couch with a picture book, their extended family joining with mugs of tea around the living room too. Daniel had his arm around his little family, lazily twisting a strand of Florence’s hair around his finger as she read out loud.

It was the one night a year the girls didn’t want a second book, eager to get to bed so Santa could come. The girls were tucked into bed and things in the living room were taken care of by the adults before they were off to bed themselves, cuddled up together as light snow filled the city below.

The new year came with fresh starts and busy days. Penelope needed to move into Clementine’s room since they needed room for the nursey. Florence wanted to get started early, often waking up early to work, Daniel finding her pushing an entire dresser down the hallway at 6am. He constantly had to pull her back to bed, trying to convince her to let him take care of the big things.

The girls loved to talk to the baby, pressing their sticky hands to her small belly anytime they could. They shared many stories too and Clementine often came home from Junior Kindergarten with paintings for the baby which would be put safely in a book.

Each doctor’s appointment was finished with glowing reviews, everything progressing smoothly and, as promised, Daniel was there for each and every one. It was at their 20-week ultrasound that Florence was handed the sealed envelope that contained only a folded piece of paper. For both her pregnancies, she waited until the birth to know the gender since she didn’t feel the need. This time, Daniel insisted on a gender reveal party, giving Michael and Luke Clifford the privilege of finding out first and planning the whole thing.

It was during March Break when spring was starting to poke through the melting snow and Clementine would have the whole week out of school. All their family and friends came, even Daniel’s family flew in for the week, everyone dressed in either blue or pink for which ever gender they guessed.

That morning, Daniel came into the ensuite bathroom in all white, buttoning up the final button on his collared shirt.

“Where’s your colour?” Florence asked from her spot at her dressing table, fastening her earring.

“I don’t want to wear a colour because I don’t want to make the baby feel bad if they’re not what I guessed.” Daniel shrugged, leaning down next to her. “I’m going to be happy either way.”

Florence glanced at her sky-blue dress in the mirror and pursed her lips.

“You look beautiful.” Daniel whispered, pressing a kiss to her cheek, his hand falling to her swollen belly.

“Maybe I should wear white too.” Florence said.

“You don’t have to.” Daniel chuckled, moving to the sink to brush his teeth.

“I was thinking boy because I haven’t had any morning sickness this time but my other two I did.” Florence said quietly, eyeing her dress before looking back to him.

“So stay in blue.” Daniel answered through his toothbrush.

“No…I’m going white too. We have to match.” Florence tisked, getting up from her chair to find a white dress in her closet.

Her sudden stop made Daniel frown, “What’s wrong?”

“I think I felt a kick.” Florence breathed, setting a hand on her stomach. Daniel got rid of his toothbrush and joined her, setting his hand next to hers. Sure enough, a tiny flutter moved under their palms.

“We have a tiny dancer on our hands.” Daniel smiled softly.

Florence let her right-hand fall to the back of his head, running her fingers through his hair, staring at his wide eyes and parted lips, his expression full of awe.

“I love you.” Florence whispered.

“I love you too.” Daniel grinned, leaning in to kiss her.

“Are you almost ready in there? We need to get going soon!” Callum called from the hallway.

Florence quickly switched into a white dress and heels and they joined their little family in the living room. The girls were both wearing light blue overalls with pink undershirts since they both kept switching between ‘boy’ and ‘girl’ every five minutes. Callum and Aidan both went with blue.

“You’re cheating!” Clementine shouted, pointing at her parents’ white outfits.

“We can’t break the rules if we made them.” Daniel said with a wink.

Michael and Luke had everything set up in the ballroom space of the apartment building, the same place Clementine had her first birthday. Everyone was already there, helping themselves to snacks and drinks. It wasn’t long before Daniel and Florence were directed to the front of the room, Clementine and Penelope joining them beside a large black balloon held by Michael. He handed it to the two little girls, giving them the instruction to hold tightly to the string so it wouldn’t float away.

When the room was quiet, Luke passed over a safety pin to Daniel and one to Florence. On a count to three, they were to pop the balloon and the confetti inside would reveal the gender.

“I’m nervous again!” Florence giggled.

“It’s a boy and I’ll bet money on that!” Callum called from the front of their small group.

“Willing to make that a bet? $50. It’s a girl.” Christian held out his hand.

“Deal. I know my sister.” Callum shook on it. “It’s a boy.”

“Ready?” Daniel smiled to his wife.

“So ready.” Florence leaned over to kiss him, the two girls between them laughing excitedly.

“3…!” Luke started. “2…1…!”

The pop of the balloon filled the quiet room and pink confetti rain down on the family of four. The little girls shrieked excitedly, jumping up and down in their own world. Beside them, Florence was more than shocked, falling into Daniel open arms.

Despite the shouting and laughing that took over the room, it felt like it was just the two of them. She could feel a tear fall onto her shoulder and Daniel held her tighter.

“I love you so much.” He whispered, his voice wavering.

“I love you.” Florence smiled, taking his face in her hands and pressed her lips to his.

“I believe you owe me money, Mr. DiCaprio!” Christian shouted over the excitement in the room.

The remainder of the second and well into the third trimester was spent with Daniel waiting on her hand and foot. Florence didn’t like it at first, feeling badly that he was doing it all, but Daniel insisted, doing everything he could to keep her relaxed with her feet up. He took Clementine to school every morning and picked her up on his lunch break, he took charge of bath time for the girls and cleaned the apartment, and even (tried his best) to make dinner every night.

Florence really missed him throughout her last pregnancy as he was such a comfort through the end of her first, being the only thing to help her sleep in those later months. She basked in it this time, though, refusing to let him get out of bed until he was almost late for work. Not that he complained, he would have given anything to stay like that all day.

Even as summer came around and the apartment was always sweltering, Daniel had his arms around her like he would never let go. It was a vision of love and protection Florence never knew she really needed.

And one June morning, no earlier than sunrise, Florence awoke suddenly. Daniel’s arm was draped lazily over her waist with his bare chest pressed to her back, soft breaths let out against her neck. Sweat was pooling at her hairline and she gently slid his arm off of her and he shifted sleepily onto his back. Florence sat up, pushing the heavy duvet off of her to try and get some cool air. It wasn’t unusual that she was extra warm during her final few weeks as growing a full-term human wasn’t an easy task, so she merely took a second to catch her breath.

A small sharp pain made her flinch, pressing a hand underneath her swollen stomach. It was only when she started to make a move to get out of bed that she noticed the wet sheets. Her discovery was punctuated with a warm cramping spreading over her hips.

Florence looked to her right where Daniel laid, his brown hair sticking up in all directions and lips set in a small pout as he slept soundly. She gave him a small nudge, “Dani.”

He shifted tiredly to face the other way, pulling the blankets higher over him.

“Sweetheart.” Florence pulled them back before shaking his arm. “Daniel.”

He rolled over to face her, blinking open his tired eyes to try and focus on her, “You okay?” he asked groggily, reaching a hand to her arm.

“My water broke.” Florence whispered.

Daniel’s still half-asleep face took a second to register what she said before his mouth was falling open. He looked down to her lap that was still covered by the duvet.

“Ok. That’s okay.” Daniel jumped out of bed, almost tripping over his own feet as he scrambled to her bedside in only his underwear, tugging on a pair of pyjama pants in the process. “Are you hurting?”

“A little.” Florence frowned. “She’s 3 weeks early, Dani. We did everything right I don’t know why-“

“Hey.” Daniel took her face in his hands. “It’s okay. Remember the doctor said 37 weeks is fine. That we should expect early because of last time. 37 is good.”

Florence nodded.

“I’ll call the midwife?” Daniel offered.

“We need these sheets changed first.” Florence frowned.

“Of course. Do you want me to take you to the living room?”

“I can go if you take care of this?”

“Okay.” Daniel tilted her chin up to press a kiss to her lips.

“I’m sorry.” Florence mumbled as he helped her to her feet.

“Nothing you need to apologize for, darling.” Daniel smiled, “You’re having our baby today.”

Once Florence made it to the living room, she sat herself down on the couch and called the midwife. It was barely 6:45 in the morning and by Florence’s reflection of her state, the midwife said she would come by for 8, telling her to time and note any contractions or important details.

As soon as they hung up, a sharp pain shot through her side and Florence gasped, clutching onto the back of the couch. Of course, it was just when the girls woke up, rushing out of their shared room and down the hall to the master bedroom like every morning. But they found it empty, bed striped and lights on...but empty.

Clementine and Penelope stopped in their tracks, smiles fading with confusion.

“Good morning, my girls.” Daniel greeted them sweetly as he walked back into the master bedroom from starting the laundry.

Smiles back on their faces, the two girls rushed him with hugs until he scooped them both up in his arms.

“Where’s Mummy?” Penelope asked quietly, her head resting on Daniel’s bare shoulder.

“In the living room. Let’s go say good morning.” he carried his two girls across the apartment. Florence was still on the couch and he set the girls down so they could greet her. The last morning of just the four of them.

Florence was forcing a smile through her steady pain, welcoming her daughters’ innocent smiles and excited hugs and kisses.

“Uncle Callum is going to spend the day with you, does that sound nice?” Florence asked as Penelope curled up on her lap. Clementine skipped off after Daniel to help him prepare breakfast a few feet away in the kitchen, shouting her agreement to that statement with excitement.

“What about you?” Penelope whined gently.

“Dad and I have to get ready to meet your baby sister. We think she’s going to be here soon.” Florence explained.

“Today?!” Clementine shrieked from her spot on the kitchen counter.

“Maybe.” Daniel smiled, petting her hair back from her face as she dropped two frozen waffles in the toaster.

“I want to meet baby sister.” Penelope whispered.

“Me too.” Florence smiled, pressing a kiss to her head.

When breakfast was ready, Daniel called the two girls to the kitchen table, setting two plates in front of them with glasses of apple juice. Florence stayed on the couch, another small contraction washing over her. She held tightly to the couch cushion to avoid making a scene in front of the girls, eyeing the clock on the wall that read 7:23.

Daniel finished cutting up the girls’ waffles before he joined Florence in the living room. He bent down in front of her and set his hands on her stomach.

“How are you holding up, sweetheart?” he whispered, glancing up at her with worry in his light eyes.

“Alright so far.” Florence breathed, pushing a hand through his hair.

“Do you want breakfast?”

“No. I’m okay. You eat.” Florence smiled.

“I’m too excited to eat.” Daniel admitted quietly, leaning up to kiss her as he stood up again. “Callum should be here any moment now.”

“Okay.” Florence sighed, taking his hands in hers.

He leaned down to kiss her once more before heading back to the girls.

“Daddy!” Clementine shrieked through a mouthful of waffle, “We can see your boobies while we eat!”

“Then don’t look.” Daniel teased, pressing his finger in her side to make her squeal with laughter.

“Yucky!” Penelope added, sliding off her chair and ran off towards the kitchen with her plate before he could grab her. Sure enough, he scooped her right off the floor, blowing a raspberry against her shoulder. Penelope squirmed in his arms, trying to push his head away from her through her laughter.

The knock at the door had Clementine running for the foyer, Penelope wiggling enough to have Daniel put her down to join her sister.

“You two get your bags and kiss Mommy goodbye.” Daniel instructed, steering them towards their room.

He opened the door for Callum and Aidan, gesturing them inside with a tired welcome.

“Gosh, Dan, pull up your pants. Do you always walk around like this?” Aidan tisked, eyeing his friend’s bare torso and Calvin’s band that was peeking out from under his plaid pyjama pants.

“No wonder my sister got knocked up again.” Callum teased.

“Oh, Callum George, stop it!” Florence called from the living room. The young men joined her, Callum greeting her with a kiss to her head.

“Uncle Cal!” Clementine called, running over to him and threw her arms around his leg, her tiny suitcase discarded in the middle of the room. Penelope stuck with Daniel, curling one arm around his leg shyly.

“Good morning, Clem.” Callum smiled, picking up his niece and sat her on his hip.

“Mommy’s having baby sister today!” Clementine said proudly.

“I know! That’s why you’re going to have a sleepover with us!” Callum explained.

“You excited, Nell?” Aidan asked the youngest, crouching down to her level.

“Yes.” she smiled shyly, her dark messy hair falling over her eyes.

“Shall we head out then?” Callum said. “Center Island won’t wait for us!”

“Center Island?!” Clementine shrieked, her mouth falling open excitedly, looking between him and her mother.

“Yeah! So lets say goodbye and get going!” Callum bent down so she could kiss her mother goodbye.

“Behave yourself, you.” Florence chuckled, kissing her daughter’s head.

“Come here, Penny.” Florence said to her youngest who slunk away from Daniel to climb up on the couch to hug her.

“Have fun with Cal and Aidan, okay?”

Penelope nodded, pressing a kiss to her cheek.

“Call if you need anything or if anything happens.” Aidan said to Florence, bending down to hug her.

“I will.” Florence agreed.

They headed towards the door, Aidan taking the small pink suitcases in hand.

“Come on, bug.” Daniel said to Penelope, holding out his hand to lead her to the foyer.

“I want to stay with Mommy.” Penelope frowned.

“I’ll take good care of her for you, I promise.” Daniel said sweetly, “You get to go have fun with you sister while we do all the work. When you get back to Callum’s tonight hopefully you can see pictures of baby sister.”

“I want to see her now.” Penelope whimpered, setting her little hands on the baby bump.

“Me too, bug.” Daniel pressed a kiss to her head. “Soon though.”

“Callum and Aidan are going to make sure you have so much fun today.” Florence promised, petting back her daughter’s hair. “Maybe even buy you an ice cream.”

Penelope tried to hide her cheeky smile behind her hair.

“Come on, Nell!” Clementine shouted from the foyer.

“Kisses.” Daniel requested softly, puckering out his lips. His youngest giggled and kissed him once and offered one to Florence before sliding off the couch. She ran after her sister to get her shoes on.

With the girls out of the house, the moment the door closed, Florence let out a pained groan she had been holding in since she woke up.

“What can I get you?” Daniel asked softly, returning back to his place in front of her, running his fingers through her hair.

“Nothing.” Florence breathed, pushing herself up from the couch ungracefully. He helped her with a hand around her waist. “I’m just going to walk a bit before the midwife gets here.”

With her pacing the hallway, Daniel tidied up the master bedroom a little bit, singing quietly as he worked. His soft voice always calmed her and she let her eyes close as she took one slow step at a time down the hallway.

When the midwife arrived, she helped Daniel get the bed re-made and Florence to lay down again. She checked her out a little.

“Looks like you’re already 5cm. Seems like you’ve been in labour for a few hours now. I’m surprised it didn’t wake you.” she chuckled.

“Gosh...it hasn’t been that bad.” Florence said.

“That’s good then. Being able to get as much rest as you can is important. Contractions are steady?”

“Every 5 minutes.” Florence answered. “Short though.”

“That’s okay. Let’s see if you can sleep anymore.”

“I don’t think I can.” Florence admitted.

“Too excited?”

“Just a little.” Florence smiled.

Daniel came out of the walk-in closet in jeans and a white t-shirt with his hair brushed and face shaved. “How are we looking?” he asked.

“Halfway there.” The midwife said.

“Oh, that’s so good!” Daniel smiled.

Florence shifted in her place, whimpering slightly as another contraction came upon her. Daniel climbed next to her and took her hand in his. She leaned on his shoulder with her eyes shut tight, clinging onto his hand.

“They’re getting worse?” The midwife asked.

Florence nodded.

Daniel let his free hand press softly against her cheek and kissed her hair, resting his head on hers. He rubbed his thumb in soft circles over hers.

Florence wanted the calmest and most relaxing birth possible, opting for a home birth for optimal comfort over the unpleasant hospital. The midwife was familiar with home births and throughout the preparation had given good suggestions. Daniel purchased an entire store worth of unscented candles.

Labour was slow but definitely calm, Florence finally getting in the bathtub to try and lessen the growing pain. The bathroom was dimmed to candlelight as she rested with her eyes closed in the warm bath, Daniel sat on the floor against the counter with his guitar on his lap, playing away slowly. His soft voice filled the silent apartment, keeping his eyes on his labouring wife across from him. Her blonde hair was damp at the ends where the water reached, her fingers tightening their grip on the edge of the bathtub, the water sloshing slightly as she flinched in pain.

Daniel hated seeing her like that, small tears welling in his eyes as he kept his voice steady, plucking gently at the guitar strings.

“Dani.” Florence whispered into the air.

He was at her side in an instant, brushing her hair back from her face, his other hand resting over hers, “I’m here, sweetheart.”

Florence licked her lips slowly, her eyes still shut, “Hurts so bad.”

“I know, baby.” Daniel kissed her head. “You’re doing so well. I’m so proud of you.”

“Can I have some water?”

“Of course.” Daniel reached behind her to the half empty glass, switching hands to rest it against her lips. She took it from him, a shaking hand holding the glass as she sipped. She handed it back to him and he set it down before shifting so he was sitting on the tile floor, kissing her hand.

She fluttered her eyes open, smiling weakly at him, holding her hand against his cheek.

“I love you.” Florence sighed.

“I love you so much.” Daniel leaned in to press a kiss to her pouted lips.

“Can you help me out? I’m kind of chilly now.”

“Of course.” Daniel got up and helped her carefully stand up in the tub, taking her hands to steady her as she stepped onto the bathmat. He draped a towel around her and dried her off, helping her out of her wet bathing suit.

“Sorry, I just-“ Florence leaned forward, tightening her grip on his shoulders and let out a trembling groan.

“Good girl.” Daniel whispered, rubbing his hands over her back. “Breathe through it.”

She let out a steady exhale followed by a soft inhale. When the contraction passed, she stood back up, offering him a pout.

“Let’s get you dressed.” Daniel chuckled. He reached behind him to the counter, grabbing her a clean nursing bra, getting her in it gently. He left the towel draped around her waist, one arm taking hers and the other grabbing his guitar, helping her back to bed. The midwife gave her a second look over, timing the contractions at 2 minutes apart, lasting almost 30 seconds.

“We are moving things right along!” she said. “We’re between 7-8cm now. Doing just fine.”

“I could feel her moving down.” Florence said tiredly, offering a smile to the room.

“That’s good.” the midwife said, pressing her hands to her belly to check the baby’s position. “She’s a well behaved little one too.”

“What time is it, Dani?” Florence asked.

“Almost noon, sweetheart.” he replied, pulling a black tank-top from his dresser drawer as his t-shirt was damp from the bath water.

“Oh gosh.” Florence sighed, resting her head back against the pillow as he changed quickly before sitting on the edge of the bed next to her.

“You’re doing great work, Florence.” the midwife said with an honest smile. “How are you feeling?”

“A little nauseous.” Florence admitted.

“That’s from the pain. Have some water and take nice deep breaths. We can try moving to a better position.”

The midwife helped her kneel on the floor, arms holding the side of the bed. Florence, already tired out, leaned her head against her arms on the mattress, groaning lightly with each steady breath.

Daniel sat behind her, rubbing slow circles over her lower back.

“We have a natural on our hands.” the midwife smiled at him.

“I know.” Florence chuckled breathlessly.

Daniel blushed at the form of flattery, massaging her back and her hips strongly, peppering little kisses over her shoulder.

“Ow-“ Florence scrunched her eyes closed as another contraction hit.

“You’re doing so well.” Daniel praised, his warm hands easing her pain the best he could.

“Fuck...” Florence gripped the bedsheets in her fist.

“Bad one?” Daniel asked. She nodded. “You’re so strong, baby. So amazing.”

She gasped out of her contraction, taking a second to catch her breath before speaking, “Why did we do this again?”

“We’re doing it right this time, remember?” Daniel reminded her gently, keeping his hands rubbing circles over her back. “Bringing another little girl into our life the right way. Together. Because you’re the love of my life...the strongest woman I know...the one and only person I trust to carry my child. Our third baby. Our missing piece.”

“Fuck, Daniel. You’re making me cry.” Florence chuckled through her forming tears.

“Gotta make up all the missed time somehow.” Daniel said, kissing her shoulder.

“Stop with your missed time.” Florence whispered tiredly. “We did everything in perfect time. Anything different and we wouldn’t be here right now.”

“You’re right.” Daniel sighed, draping his arms around her waist to rest on her belly. He leaned his head against her shoulder. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” Florence chuckled, resting one hand over his.

Another contraction came quickly, having her resort back to her double fisted grip on the bedsheets, groaning into the mattress. Daniel kept his arms around her, swaying her hips gently as he hummed a soft tune against her skin. She had only a moment to breathe again when the contraction died down, her head resting on her arms in her small squat, breathing deeply. She let out a sob into her arms as another contraction washed over her, her body clenching painfully.

“They’re much closer now.” Daniel said aloud, putting soft pressure against her lower back and hips. He could feel the heat radiating off of her and he waved his hand by her face to try and cool her down. He didn’t see the midwife leave the room but she was soon handing him a cool, damp face cloth and he thanked her quietly before running it softly over Florence’s shoulders and neck.

“Deep breaths.” The midwife instructed, getting on the ground with them to check out the process of the baby. “Almost there.”

“Almost there.” Daniel repeated.

“I want to lay down. My legs hurt.” Florence whispered, burying her face in the crook of her arm.

“Whatever is best for you, dear.” The midwife agreed, helping Daniel get her to her feet and back onto the bed. She checked the baby’s heartrate and position again, making a few notes before taking a step back to let Florence breathe. Daniel was curled up next to her, pressing the cool cloth to her forehead and cheeks, following the breathing techniques with her. Florence’s hand was holding the front of his shirt, her eyes scrunched closed and her grip tightening as she contracted again, letting out a small cry of pain.

“Do you want me to sing to you?” Daniel asked quietly.

Florence nodded quickly, biting down on her bottom lip.

He ran his thumb over her lip to make her release it, offering his free hand for her to cling onto instead as he chose a gentle song and sang quietly into the dimly lit room. His voice seemed to echo through the empty apartment, running his thumb over hers, keeping his damp eyes focussed on her face. The curtains were drawn, closing off the bright afternoon sun and leaving the room to candlelight and the single table lamp set up on the dresser for the midwife to work. The soothing scent of lavender wafted from the candle on the right-side night table, just enough to bring a sense of serenity and calmness to the room.

With each contraction, Florence kept her breathing steady, burying her face against Daniel’s chest with her hand gripping his shirt, her other held securely in his. He kept the cool cloth blotting her forehead and neck, the icy dampness relaxing her more, his soothing voice keeping her focussed on something other than the radiating pain. Every minute exactly, she was whimpering against his chest, pulling him close. Daniel’s voice quivered seeing her in such a state but he forced himself to stay strong for her. He had never been a part of the labour process and it absolutely broke his heart to see her like that.

One strong contraction in particular had her letting out a small shriek, flinching intensely in his arms, “Daniel.”

Daniel couldn’t hold back the small sob that fell from his pouted lips, wrapping his arms around her securely and pressed kisses to her head. “I’m here, baby. I got you.”

“Go right into that, Florence.” The midwife praised softly, rubbing her hand over her back, “You’re doing so well.”

“I’m so sorry.” Daniel whispered against Florence’s ear, his quiet tears falling onto her bare shoulder.

Florence shook her head as the contraction died out. “Don’t be sorry,” she breathed heavily, shifting to look at him, holding one hand to his cheek, “God, don’t cry, Dani. It’s all going to be worth it.”

“That’s the spirit.” The midwife smiled, settling on her other side. “Now I’m just going to check baby’s heartbeat.”

She pressed the wand of a small machine to Florence’s bare stomach, the staticky rhythm filling the room. Daniel smiled softly as Florence looked up to him.

“I love you.” Florence whispered, puckering out her lips.

“I love you.” Daniel chuckled, meeting her halfway for a single sweet kiss.

He helped her through another contraction. Her eyebrows were furrowed through it, raising Daniel’s concern a little bit.

When it finished, she shifted onto her back to look towards the midwife, “Can you check me again? I think she’s ready to come out.”

The midwife paused as she checked her dilation, “Well, my dear, you are very in tune with your body. You’re at 10cm. Let’s get this baby out.”

“Now?!” Daniel gasped, looking between the two women.

“Whenever she feels the urge to push, yes!” the midwife chuckled, starting to arrange her things.

“Which will probably be in like 30 seconds.” Florence added lightly.

“Where do I sit? What do you want me to do?!” Daniel asked quickly.

“Calm down, Dani.” Florence laughed as the midwife had her sit up a bit more.

“You can sit behind her if you’d like.” The midwife suggested. “If that’s comfortable for mama of course.”

“Yeah, that works.” Florence nodded, letting Daniel slide his leg behind her. He leaned against the pillows and the headboard as she rested back against his chest. The midwife hurried to set down an extra towel under her and got her legs bent open.

“Okay, with the next contraction, you know what to do. Listen to your body.” The midwife instructed quietly.

Florence took a soft breath, letting Daniel set his hands in hers, linking their fingers together. Sure enough, at the next contraction, she felt the natural urge to push, a feeling that was always so surreal to her. She took a trembling breath before pressing her chin to her chest and pushed. It was nothing she hadn’t done before but it was still a lot, listening to the midwife’s steady count to ten before she could have a second to catch her breath.

“Another count of ten, honey.” The midwife said.

“Oh God.” Florence whimpered, shutting her eyes tightly as she pushed again.

Daniel kept his thumbs rubbing soothing circles over hers, watching her concentration and determination with wide eyes.

“That’s good.” The midwife said. “Catch your breath.”

Florence rested her head back against Daniel’s chest, her breathing shallow. Daniel started another breathing exercise, soon getting her to join.

“You two make a good team.” The midwife smiled up at them.

Florence hummed tiredly in agreement before sitting herself up a little bit more and pushing again.

“Good girl.” Daniel whispered, freeing one hand to pull her hair back from her face before falling to her hip.

“Fuck, Penelope was so much smaller than this.” Florence groaned through another push, her nose scrunched up with the effort she was putting out.

“Just means you’re delivering a healthy, full term baby now.” The midwife said softly. “Keep those pushes coming. You’re doing great.”

Florence took a breath before pushing again, groaning into it with her chin to her chest. She squeezed Daniel’s hand in her own, her right hand on his thigh to hold herself steady. He reached over to grab the paper fan from the nightstand, using his free hand to fan her with it, the cool air making her sigh thankfully.

“Doing so good, sweetheart.” Daniel whispered, peppering kisses along her neck and shoulder.

Florence groaned into the air, her eyes screwed shut, squirming in her place, “Hurts so bad.”

“Keep your legs open, honey. It will make it easier.” The midwife said, trying to keep open the labouring mother’s trembling thighs. Florence hooked her ankles over Daniel’s to ground herself, pulling his arm around her middle as she breathed out of another contraction. The next came fast and she pushed right into it, whimpering loudly.

Daniel could feel her whole body trembling and all he could do was hold her, tucking one hand under her thigh to help keep her legs open, watching over her shoulder as the midwife helped her through it.

“Her head is coming soon. We’re almost at the end!” the midwife announced, letting Florence sit back to breathe after two more counts of ten.

“Dani.” Florence panted, blinking open her tired eyes to him as her head rested lazily against his shoulder.

“You’re absolutely incredible.” Daniel whispered, pressing a kiss to her cheek. “I’m so in love with you.”

“I love you.” Florence mumbled. She breathed out deeply before another contraction washed over her. The midwife instructed her to pant light and she did, resisting the urge to simply push with all her might.

“We’re crowning now.” The midwife told them. “Nice steady push now, honey.”

Florence held her breath and tucked her chin down again, offering her a nice slow push, groaning loudly as she did.

“Ow, ow, ow, ow-” Florence cried, clinging onto Daniel’s hand. Taking a deep breath before pushing again.

“That’s it.” Daniel breathed, rubbing his thumb in soft circles over her thigh. “Good job, baby.”

After one more lengthy count to ten, the head was born. Daniel let out a little gasp at the sight of the wet light hair that was poking out between her legs.

“Strong push now, Florence.” The midwife encouraged. “She’s almost here!”

Florence leaned back against Daniel, taking both hands in her own instead of just one, tightening her legs around his, and pushed as hard as she could. Her head rested on his shoulder, her laboured breaths and whimpers against his neck, hands trembling in his as she brought their final little girl into the world. Daniel kept his eyes between her legs, watching completely uncensored as the baby was delivered into the midwife’s hands. And with Florence’s heavy sigh of relief, Daniel let out a small sob, tears spilling down his cheeks as the baby at the foot of the bed let out her first cry.

“1:56pm. June 24th. A beautiful baby girl.” The midwife announced with a wide smile, wrapping her up in a blanket and placed her on Florence’s chest. She instinctively wrapped her arms around the newborn, her own tears trickling down her cheek.

Daniel was right with her, his cheek almost pressed against hers as he stared down at the new arrival wrapped in white. Her shrill cries were nothing but the most beautiful music to his ears and he cried tears of joy along with her.

“Hi, baby.” Florence whimpered happily. “Oh, Dani, look at her.” Florence turned her head a little to look at her beautiful mess of a husband beside her.

“She’s perfect.” Daniel cried, leaning in to kiss her sweetly. “I’m so proud of you. I love you.”

“I love you.” Florence smiled, moving one hand to wipe the tears from his cheeks.

They stayed there a few quick minutes before it was time to deliver the placenta. It was quick and easy and Florence was honestly too wrapped up in admiring the new little girl in her arms to really notice.

The midwife took the baby to be checked out, weighing her in at 7lbs 11oz and measuring her at 20inches long. She was nothing but perfect; her health was pristine, the delivery went without fault, and soon the baby was quiet and nursing, swaddled in a soft purple blanket in Florence’s arms. Daniel sat beside them, running his fingertips ever so softly over the baby’s thin hair, watching her eat quietly.

“She’s so soft.” he breathed, pressing a gentle kiss to her head.

“I know.” Florence smiled.

“She’s ours.” Daniel sighed happily.

“She is.” Florence whispered.

The midwife came back in after her things were packed up and she was ready to go, “One last thing before I leave, we need to fill out the birth certificate so I can mail it to the government.”

“Of course.” Florence smiled, pulling her blanket that was draped over her shoulders farther over her chest for decency as if the lady who walked in didn’t just deliver her child.

“Does this little girl have a name that you’ve decided on?” she asked kindly, sitting on the end of the bed with her pen and paper.

“Lucy.” Daniel whispered, keeping his eyes on the baby, her tiny hand curling around his index finger. “Lucy Elizabeth Seavey.”

“Aren’t you the prettiest little girl in the whole world.” Daniel cooed gently to the newborn who was laid on the changing pad at the end of the bed. She cried restlessly, tiny legs kicking as he fastened her diaper, her arms curled by her face. He leaned down to press a kiss to her cheek, “Well, out of those younger than 3. I can’t go picking favourites.”

“You’re ridiculous.” Florence chuckled tiredly, tucked into their freshly made bed in a new pair of pyjamas and the uncomfortable post-birth underwear the midwife gave her.

Daniel sent her a small wink before he was tugging off his shirt and gently lifting the baby to his chest. She curled against him, her loud cries softening as her head rested on his shoulder, sucking on her tiny fist. He walked slowly around the room, tossing his shirt in the laundry basket, throwing out the dirty diaper and put away the wipes and things. His steps were cautious, holding the newborn securely with one hand until he could rest at the window, rubbing soft circles over her back as they overlooked the busting city and the setting sun.

Of course, Daniel couldn’t help but sing quietly, offering the quiet room the lyrics to the Beatles song that was the newborn’s namesake. And, like both sisters before her, Lucy was asleep in mere moments by the heavenly voice that Daniel had been blessed with.

He sat himself in bed, making sure to keep the sleeping baby safely against his chest. Florence ran a gentle hand over the thin blonde hair that the newborn donned, before moving her fingertips to Daniel’s cheek, turning him to press a soft kiss to his lips.

“You’re so good with her.” Florence whispered.

“All in the practice.” Daniel smiled, resting his hand out for her to hold. “How are you feeling, sweetheart?”

“Tired and sore. But happy.” Florence smiled softly, giving his hand a little squeeze. “So happy.”

He returned it, leaning in to press a lingering kiss to her lips. He kept his one hand over the baby’s back as she slept against his chest, making sure he stayed perfectly still so she wouldn’t fall, staring down at her with nothing but love in his eyes.

“Look at her.” Daniel breathed. “We made her and now she’s real and I’m holding her and...”

“I know.” Florence giggled quietly, curling into his side a little.

“And she’s ours.”

“All ours.”

“Our littlest princess.”

Lucy stretched her tiny arms up through a sleepy yawn as if she was trying to drape them over his shoulders. She kept her cheek against his chest, breathing slowly with him.

“She looks so much like you.” Florence breathed, running the back of her index finger over the baby’s cheek.

“She looks more like you.” Daniel said. “All this light hair.”

“Her eyes and nose are all yours.” Florence whispered, gently tracing the curve of Lucy’s tiny nose.

When Daniel didn’t answer after a moment, Florence turned her head up to look at him. He was already looking at her, a soft smile on his lips.

“Thank you for our beautiful family.” He mumbled.

Florence pulled him in for a kiss, “Thank you.”

#daniel seavey #why dont we #wdw #why dont we music #daniel seavey imagines #daniel seavey fanfic #why dont we imagines #why dont we fanfic #wdw imagines #wdw fanfic #jonah marais #jack avery #corbyn besson #zach herron #limelight #anything but mine #seavey #imagines #daniel seavey one shots

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momentofmemory · 4 years

Text

FICTOBER 2020 - day nine

Prompt #9: “Will you look at this?”

Fandom: Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)

Characters: Michelle Jones, Peter Parker, Ned Leeds

Words: 1650

Author’s Note: Michelle’s in charge of AcaDec, which really shouldn’t be that much responsibility—except, of course, it is. Set a couple months post-HOCO, spring semester. Michelle POV.

>> i promise i’ll promise

“What is the melting point of mercury?”

Charles’s bell rings instantly, and its sound waves have hardly have the chance to make it to the back wall and bounce back before he’s following it with his answer. “Negative thirty-eight point eight celsius, or negative thirty-seven point nine Fahrenheit. Or two hundred thirty-four point three Kelvin. Or—”

“Correct,” MJ says, forestalling any further commentary. “No points. What does the term ‘amensalism’ refer to in—”

“Wait, rewind?”

MJ glances up over her notes at Charles.

“I got it right,” he says, “so why don’t I get points for it?”

Michelle sighs, blowing a stray piece of hair away from her face. She writes an extra study note next to his name. “The melting point of mercury is negative thirty-eight point eight, but if you'd paid attention to your flashcards, you’d know the Basic Guide says it’s positive six hundred and fifty degrees celsius. Presumably because they confused it with magnesium. So, the answer you should give is positive six hundred and fifty degrees celsius.”

Michelle doesn’t bother looking up when no one responds—the silence communicates her team’s confusion all on its own.

She flips to the next card.

“Soooooo.” It’s Betty’s voice this time. “You want us to give the wrong answer on purpose?”

“Does your textbook still describe Columbus arriving in America as discovering a new land instead of starting a mass genocide?”

“Uh—”

“Great, so now that we’ve established we’re cool with lying for grades, next question. Amensalism. Any takers?”

Charles’s previous enthusiasm for the bell must have evaporated, because her question is once again met with silence.

“The correct answer is ‘a relationship between species that harms one with no effect on the other,’” Michelle says. Then she gathers up the cards and straightens them by tapping the deck against the table. “We’re done with practice questions for today; break for individual study. And for the future, please cross-reference your answers and if you come across one that’s incorrect, memorize both the correct and stated answer and let me know about it for the record.”

The seven students on the stage just stare at her.

“So like.” MJ gestures towards the study tables. “Dismissed.”

She watches them slink off the stage and set up around the room, some in clusters of two and others preferring to study alone. Mr. Harrington’s out sick and the teacher that’s supposed to be helping is… incompetent, judging by the fact that she’s been snoring for the last fifteen minutes, so that just leaves Michelle in charge today.

It’s not a great day for that.

MJ sighs again, then swipes the Music Basic Guide off the desk and walks over to where Ned’s texting furiously in the far corner.

“Hey.”

Ned doesn’t seem to notice her. MJ reaches out over the table and then abruptly drops the book, which is considerably hefty, directly in front of him with a loud bang.

“Whoa!” Ned jerks upright. “Hi?”

MJ nods towards the phone. “That Peter?”

“Uh.” He tilts the phone away, suddenly very interested in her not seeing the screen. “Yeah. He uh, he said he’s on his way.”

“He always says that,” Michelle says. “Tell him MJ says that she’s highly aware of his growing absences—not in like, a creepy stalker kinda way—but in a she will literally kick him out of AcaDec kinda way. We only have nine spots and we need them all at one hundred percent if we’re going to win this year.”

“Good thing I’m here then!”

MJ turns just in time to see Peter, red-faced and breathless, slide into the seat next to her.

He drops his book bag onto the table—the noise once again startling Ned—and then has the audacity to ask, “Did I miss anything?”

She stares at him. “You’re half an hour late, Peter.”

“Which is still earlier than I was yesterday—”

“You realize that makes your argument worse, right?”

“—and Ned filled me in on pretty much everything, so, no need to backtrack for me.”

MJ pins Ned under the weight of her stare. “Oh he did, did he?”

Ned doesn’t even have the decency to look guilty about it, though he does shove his phone in his pocket awfully quickly. “You know what, now that we’ve established that I’m a great friend and teammate, I’m going to be even better and get us some snacks.”

Michelle’s eyes widen. “Ned, wait—”

“I’ll just run to the vending machine and back, don’t wait for me to get started!”

Ned then grabs his bag and is headed out of the room before she or Peter can get a word in, leaving both of them alone.

Michelle folds her arms on the table and lays her head in her hands, and groans.

Peter, mercifully and uncharacteristically, is quiet. After a few moments she hears his chair scrape against the linoleum floor as he finds a more comfortable position, and then the sound of the zipper on his backpack as he pulls out his study cards.

Michelle closes her eyes and ignores all the things she needs to fix, and probably all the eyes that’re pretending not to stare.

“So,” Peter says, somehow almost immediately after her heart stops pounding in her ears, “wrong answers, huh?”

“So many.” MJ drags her head back up and draws patterns on the table with her finger. “Or at least three, I guess. There’s probably more I haven’t found yet.”

“Still, the fact that you noticed them at all is really cool,” Peter says. “You’re good at detail stuff.”

“Or maybe just good at finding bullshit.” MJ chances a quick glance over at the sub to make sure she didn’t hear that. Mrs. Haney, predictably, is still asleep. “But I shouldn’t have had to find them at all. The USAD started charging for study materials this year instead of just handing out the topics, and the price was—a lot. Midtown’s already facing budget cuts, so they didn’t love the idea of spending money on a club run by a sophomore.”

Peter highlights a phrase on one of his cards before writing it down in his notebook. “But you got them, right? That’s got to count for something.”

“Yeah, until I found out they were a complete waste.”

“Complete might be an exaggeration—”

“Well, they’re not good enough!”

Peter pauses halfway through writing a sentence and turns his full attention to her, and it’s—a little nerve-wracking.

“I just—” Michelle grasps for words, then settles by dumping out the flashcards she’d made with the highlighted errors. “Will you look at this disaster? Switching up the melting point of a metal isn’t just a typo; it’s lazy. And easy to miss. We’re going to have to fact check practically everything in the books because there’s no way of knowing where the mistakes are, and who knows if they’re going to quiz us on the right answers or the wrong ones. They just… they charged all this money and they don’t even care who it hurts, because they still get what they wanted.”

“Amensalism,” Peter says.

“Wow, Ned really did tell you everything.”

Peter grins, and Michelle tries very studiously to ignore the way his smile makes her feel a little softer inside. “He’s a very efficient texter.”

MJ rolls her eyes. Peter doesn’t seem bothered.

“I just. Liz chose me for this.” Michelle shrugs, picking at her cuticles. “And since she’s… I just feel like I owe it to her to do it right.”

Peter rubs idly at his wrists, suddenly uninterested in meeting her eyes. “Yeah. I get that.”

For once, despite his hesitancy, Michelle can tell he’s not lying.

It’s a nice change of pace.

Then she awkwardly fist bumps his shoulder and concentrates, intellectually, on how infuriating his flakiness and normal lying-ness is.

He is a disaster. And not interested.

She doesn’t need this kind of distraction.

“Anyway,” she says, abandoning her thoughts and pulling into a stretch, “it’s already done, so. I have to make this work somehow. I’ll figure it out.”

Except, there’s so much work to do already. Student profiles with strengths and weaknesses demarcated, logistics of traveling together for meets, a study plan complete with alternates, a recruiting strategy for next year, and not to mention all the drills she needs to run. Maybe an angry letter campaign to the USAD board while she’s at it.

Peter clears his throat. “Maybe I could help?”

Given his previous participation in AcaDec it is, quite possibly, one of the last things she’d expected him to say.

“I could go through the physics section pretty quickly,” he says, “and Ned can take economics, and—”

“Peter,” she says, still recovering from the surprise of his offer, “you can’t even make it to practice on time and now you’re promising to do extra work?”

Peter has the decency to wince. “Okay, well. Yeah, that’s fair.”

“Yeah.” Michelle squares her shoulders, and resigns herself to the mountain of undeserved work. “But thanks for—”

“How about I just promise to help now? Since I am here?”

Once again, more staring.

“And then next time I’m here,” he continues, “I’ll just promise again.”

It’s utterly ridiculous, but he’s also utterly sincere.

“So you’re.” MJ frowns at him. “Promising to promise?”

“Yes, that.”

“…Huh.” Michelle squints at him. “You’re full of surprises, Parker.”

His eyes grow wide in that way that always makes her think, maybe. And then that stupid grin returns and makes her think a whole lot of other things.

“And one of those surprises is a highly informed understanding of physics.” Peter makes a ‘gimme’ motion with his hand. “Wanna give it a try?”

Michelle looks at him, and how genuinely earnest he is about the whole thing.

Maybe.

“Yeah,” she says slowly, opening the Math guide to the appropriate section. She scoots closer. “We can try.”

#fictober20 #michelle jones #peter parker #spideychelle #fanfiction #spiderman #based off a real event in 2000 #memsfic

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staarshines · 4 years

Text

Attached: Chapter 2

Warnings: Spoilers for 6 Underground, mentions of hydrogen peroxide, mentions of a wound, mentions of death, dumping Six’s body, One being a hardass, champagne, cursing

Word Count: 1.9k

You know you’re not supposed to get close to the ghosts since their line of work is so dangerous, but you can’t help but fall in love with one of them. Being “Zero” means the ghosts are your top priority. But when you almost die putting them first, a certain blond wants you to rearrange those priorities.

[A/N]: I was literally overwhelmed by the amount of feedback on Part 1, I literally love you all!! This is basically me giving you guys closure from the last part. The next part is gonna have a shit ton more action and is hopefully going to end with fluff. Enjoy, lovelies!

“You two are fucking impossible!” Your eyes fly open to One yelling at someone but you don’t dare move, taking in your surroundings.

You were resting your head on someone’s lap and they were gently running a hand through your hair. Four. You’d know those hands anywhere. You’re on your left side in the backseat of what should be the car you, Four, and Three had arrived at the garage in. The rest of your body is on another lap, no, two more laps. One was in the passenger’s and judging from the height and stature of the driver, it was Three. Which meant Five and Two were in the back with you and Four. Six always refused to sit in the backseat. Oh god. Six. You nearly throw up at the thought of him being in the trunk, zipped up in a bag.

“One, you’ll wake her up—”

“What’s the first rule about being a ghost?” He asks Four, ignoring his concern towards you. “Don’t get attached. What did you idiots do? Get attached!” Fuck One, keep it down. Your leg is still stinging from all the peroxide and something is binding it, but it hasn’t been stitched.

“We’re not attached!” Four’s voice falters, and you’re pretty sure everyone hears it.

“I don’t know about her because she is very good at hiding her emotions,” Apparently not from a former CIA spy, you think, “but the entire team has seen the way you look at her. You’re. Attached.” What? What is he talking about?

“Am not,” Four tries, but One has already made up his mind.

“You held her hand like she was in labor or some shit.” He held my hand? Also, fuck you, One. I’ll stick a knife in your leg and see how well you fare.

“One, it was deep,” and “You’re really not capable of emotion, are you?”, is what you hear from Two and Four at the same time.

“She can handle it,” he dismisses, but is immediately interrupted by Two.

“I swear to god, if I hear you talk shit about Zero one more time, I will use you as a shooting target.”

You laugh softly, slowly turning on your back and startling the Two, Four, and Five. “Don’t worry, Two. We all know he loves me,” you direct towards him, sarcasm practically dripping from your voice. One turns around, cocking an eyebrow, to which you just stick out your tongue in response. A slight chuckle escapes Four and you look back up at him, trying to figure out what was going on behind those emerald green eyes.

“Attached,” you hear One mutter, but before you can start arguing with him, Three starts talking.

“How are you feeling, chica?” He adjusts the rearview mirror to get a better view of you and you smile in return.

“Better. How am I doing?” You ask nobody in particular, glancing at your leg. Duct tape? Huh.

“You’re fine,” Five forces a smile, and you practically roll your eyes.

“Really, Five? Did you forget you’re bad at fooling people?”

“That easy to read, am I?”

You shrug. “I’ve been watching a lot of Criminal Minds lately. Not to mention I live with a former CIA spy. Fuck, I forgot! How are you?” You look at Two, and she smirks.

“Better than you.” You grin at her response but glare at Five, still expecting an adequate answer.

“You’re going to need a transfusion eventually—”

“and I have O Neg,” you finish for her. “Plus, we don’t have any blood, which I have been telling One for months—”

“I didn’t know the mission would go this badly,” he retorts, causing you to flinch. Before Two can pull out her gun, Five quickly regains control of the conversation.

“I checked our files and it turns out Four has O Neg too. I’m going to set him up for a transfusion when we get back on the jet.”

Thank you, you mouth, to which he nods. One mutters something you can’t quite make out, but you don’t have the energy to continue arguing, so you just drop it. The rest of the ride is silent as you doze off once again to the bumps on the road, thinking about a certain blond-haired, green-eyed Brit.

A pair of hands shake you awake and you moan in annoyance, wrapping your arms around Four’s torso.

“Zero, wake up. We’re here.” The statement causes you to sit up in confusion, seeing a harbor instead of the usual desert.

“A slight change from trailers and abandoned planes in a desert, don’t you think?” You ask Five, who’s motioning you out of the car. Her smile falters and before you can ask why, you remember. Six. You guys had to dump Six. Shit, how out of it were you? “Sorry,” you mutter to Four, realizing all the discomfort you must’ve caused him

“You’re fine, love,” he yawns, stretching his arms. Fuck, his sleepy voice was hot. Getting out of the car with Four and Five’s help, you rest against the closed passenger door on your good leg. Your senses pick up the strong scent of raw fish and yelling of angry fishermen as you shield your eyes from the sun that was about to set.

“Does she give good roadhead?” You hear One ask Four as he closes the door. You just roll your eyes as Three and Give give him annoyed looks but Two smirks. Four clenches his jaw, shooting One a look and motioning for your arm. You gratefully put your right arm around his shoulder, using him as a crutch. Eyes following One and Three as they walk over to the back of the truck, your lips purse. Four seems to notice and slowly starts walking towards the dock, causing you to as well.

Once you two are far away enough from the team, you mutter, “It still hasn’t hit me.”

“I know, Zero. I know.”

Fuck, how far out were you guys going? It had been at least thirty minutes. Probably closer to the airstrip now.

One and Four were on the higher deck piloting, although you could hear snippets of him lecturing Four, as if he hadn’t heard enough in the car. Your eyes sweep the boat for Two and Three who you find near the front, chitchatting. There was something there. No, they weren’t fucking, but as sly as two thought she was, you had noticed the lingering touches and increased time they spent together.

“Zero, you need to get some rest,” Five tells you gently, pulling up a wooden crate to sit next to you.

“That’s what I’ve been doing,” you snap suddenly, immediately feeling bad when you see her flinch. “Sorry. I just hate being told what to do. It makes it worse when whoever’s telling me is right,” you motion from her to your leg.

She smiles and leans forward, resting her forearms on her thighs. “I know. And that’s not such a bad thing either. It’s one of the main reasons you’re here.” You nod, casting a look back at Four. His hands were crossed across his chest and was deep in thought; him and One had stopped bickering.

You turn back to Five, contemplating what you were about to ask her. “How does he look at me?”

She smirks, glancing from Four to you. “You two would be the cutest couple,” she exaggerates, putting both hands over her heart. You laugh and push her shoulder. “But in all seriousness, Zero, he looks at you like…” she trails off, looking around as if she was trying to find some inspiration. “He looks at you like you’re his ocean, and he’s begging to drown.”

Your heart skips a beat at her words and you steal another look at Four, wishing you were in his arms. “That was good,” you say in an attempt to regain your posture. Fuck, the things he could do to you without him even knowing. “Where’d you read that?” She scoffs and you can’t help but grin.

The boat starts to slow down and you take a look around. Offshore enough so you can still see the coastline, but far enough that he would sink and not be pushed to shore.

Five gets up, offering a hand which you gladly take. Limping over to the side of the boat, you sit on the ledge and watch as the team pulls Six’s body bag out from some crates where he’d been hidden, hoisting him up onto the ledge. Two unzips the bag just enough to see his face and from your angle, some heavy rocks so he wouldn’t float up to the surface. Blinking rapidly so as to not let tears form, you gently lean over, brushing his hair to the side and press a soft kiss to his forehead.

“See ya later, M,” your voice breaks. M was the first letter of his name and the nickname you had given him when you got tired of calling him Six; One had nearly killed you.

You don’t know how long passes but eventually, Three zips up the bag and the team throws him into the water. One leaves, probably getting alcohol for a toast, and the entire team stands in silence. Four comes up and leans on the ledge next to you. You’re starting at the fast-approaching sunset, wondering how the hell the world just kept on spinning, how people just kept on going.

One returns with—you had guessed correctly earlier—champagne and six glasses. Six glasses. How ironic. He pours everyone a glass then sets the bottle on a wooden crate.

“Here’s a toast… To a kid I really liked.” Everyone puts their glasses up but nobody bothers to clink, presumably too focused on Six. One, Two, and Four down their glasses while Three just sets his down and Five swirls hers around. You haven’t even looked at what brand champagne it is, much less drank it, which is odd of you.

“What was his name?” You hear Five ask. Nobody answers, not even you.

“Did he have any family?” Two crosses her arms.

“I think you’re looking at it,” you tell her, still not having touched your drink. “How long until we get back?” You ask suddenly, startling everyone. For some reason, you just had the overwhelming urge to get the hell out of here.

“Forty-five minutes to the airstrip and it’s a five hour flight from there,” One responds, starting to walk towards the upper deck. The entire team disperses, leaving just you and Four.

“Drink it,” you hear him tell you softly, nodding to the glass when your eyes fall on him. “It’ll help with the pain.” You give him a half-hearted smile and take a sip as he returns to scanning the horizon.

The sunlight fell on him perfectly, highlighting his striking green eyes that you loved with all your heart. Tufts of now orange-golden hair were blocking his view, but he didn’t seem to take heed.

God, you had fallen hard for him. Did he really want to drown?

Masterlist

Permanent: @becausewhyknotme, @criminal-cookies, @theladyoffangorn, @officialtonystarkprotectionsquad, @justmebeingtheweirdmeiam, @agentpeggybarnes

6 Underground: @proffesionalclown

“Attached”: @samxslaughter, @bralessandflawless, @rintheemolion, @brianandthemays, @iloveyou3000and5, @sloantravels, @lady-sloan, @rainbow-eyed-queen, @disaster-gay-in-a-nutshell

#billy x reader #billy x you #billy x y/n #four x you #four x reader #four x y/n #six underground x you #six underground x reader #six underground x y/n #six underground fic #six underground imagine #my writing

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kindofcashton · 4 years

Text

𝕕𝕚𝕤𝕔𝕠𝕟𝕟𝕖𝕔𝕥𝕖𝕕 • chapter 3 (Calum Hood AU)

BY THE TIME we got back to the house it was far past midnight, and none of us could walk straight, except maybe Calum. He never seemed to show just how much he drank, as his movements weren’t as clumsy and uncontrolled as the rest of ours.

I had spent the night dancing and drinking overly sweet fruity concoctions. Calum had disappeared from the bar, which was a welcome discovery as I hated the way he always looked at me those burning eyes. I didn’t like how self conscious and nervous I was around him, so when he was nowhere to be seen I confidently ordered my fruity drinks and actually let loose for once.

He went right up to his room once we got home, but I went into the bathroom with Hannah to change and take all of our makeup off. Peering into the mirror, I saw my eyeliner had smudged slightly and my lip gloss was practically gone. My cheeks were flushed from alcohol and the heat of the club, my hair tousled and not as refined as it had been when we left. In a way, I thought I looked hot, and even cracked a smile at my reflection.

Hannah caught this in the mirror and laughed, hooking an arm around my shoulders and pulling me into a hug.

“We got this Scar, you and me. This can be fun, I promise.” She sounded so sincere, and I hoped some of her optimism spread to me. I could use every bit I could get.

I couldn’t believe just a month ago the two of us had been at school, our biggest worry being the next exam or which jock was going to hit on us in the dining hall. My heart yearned for those times, when my future was set in stone and I knew what to expect. I had dreams back then, dreams to help people with my career and make a positive change in someone’s life. Studying psychology to become a social worker had been my goal for as long as I knew, and I was good at it. My professors all told me I’d make a great counselor, and my grades reflected this.

And then, one by one, the pieces in my life began to fall apart. My family never had much money to begin with, but my parents managed to send me to a decent college, with lots of loans of course. I knew I’d need a job as soon as I graduated, but that over time the debt could be managed. All of this changed when I got the phone call. It was late at night, but I was up studying. I had just spoken to my parents the night before for our weekly chat, and everything was fine.

How quickly those things can change.

The doctor was vague on the phone, or maybe I just couldn’t comprehend what he was telling me. Didn’t want to comprehend it. His words were simple, but strung together they made no sense.

What did he mean car accident? Where were my parents even going? How come the 18-wheeler that slammed into them didn’t stop? Why were they the ones that got hurt, when the other driver walked away scratch free?

I knew the word coma, but I didn’t foresee all of its implications. Brain bleed was mentioned too, as well as circling the drain. All of these words and phrases jumbled up in my mind, until I snapped and asked what the hell he was talking about.

Needless to say, what little money we did have went towards the medical bills. My dad died two days after the crash, the impact of the accident turning out to be too much stress on his body. Before I’d even accepted he was gone my mom took a turn for the worse. She hadn’t woken up after surgery, and would crash every other day. I stopped counting the amount of times the doctors revived her, and even slept through a few of them.

They asked what I wanted to do when she was finally pronounced brain dead. What was I supposed to do? A twenty-one year old college student, overwhelmed with work and the fresh death of my father, and I was asked to just unplug my mother? Stupidly, but caught up in the petrifying stress of it all, I insisted they keep her alive. This intensive care was expensive, and hemorrhaged every last dollar we had until I had bankers and lawyers knocking down my door. The day I finally did say goodbye to my mother was the day my university told me I wouldn’t be able to stay if I didn’t pay the monthly fee.

Blinking rapidly, I was brought out of my nightmarish memories and back to the present. Basically kicked out of college, with barely a cent to my name, Hannah was my lifeline. We were quite the pair of misfits, as she had essentially flunked out of her classes and been dismissed by the principle. The two of us made a pact to tell no one the truth, and come home like nothing happened. I’d work to get my degree some other way, and she would try to figure out a different path. Without her, I don’t think I would’ve survived.

“I’m gonna take a shower, unless you want to go first?” Hannah asked me, rubbing her alcohol-reddened eyes. I shook my head, suppressing a yawn.

“I’m too exhausted, I think I’d fall asleep under the water. I’ll take one in the morning.”

She gave me one last tight hug before I left the bathroom, holding my crumpled outfit in my hands as I crossed the hallway to my room. The sleep shorts and oversized tee shirt I wore were a welcome change from the tight clothes, and I dumped them in the hamper before collapsing onto Michael’s bed and falling asleep within minutes.

- - - - -

I woke up to my head hammering. This hangover was one of the worst I’d had in a while, I suppose because I hadn’t drank like that in a while. It took all the effort I had to get out of bed and head to the shower.

Holding my bathrobe and shower supplies, I noticed the door was closed but the light wasn’t coming through the bottom, so I gave a quick knock.

As my fist collided with the wood, it suddenly swung open to reveal an angry looking Calum. Everything in my hands fell to the floor with a clatter. I bent down to pick them up hastily, glancing up at Calum with a frown. His hair was wet and curly, sticking up at all angles. A towel hung loosely from his waist, and in my half-conscious state my dreary eyes dragged down his glistening wet skin. My stare was obvious, and it made a cruel smirk curl onto his lips.

“Morning. You look great.”

His comment stung, as I was sure I looked awful. My hair was a mess, my eyes surely dark with circles and fatigue. I sighed, and said in a tired voice, “Sorry, I was just going to take a shower.” When I finally had all my things I stood straight up, still overwhelmed by Calum’s towering frame.

He snorted, and without another word pushed past me towards his room. I was too jostled to react, instead just closing the door behind me and leaning back against it in defeat. Would Calum and I ever find a common ground?

I pushed the dark-haired boy out of my mind as I turned on the water, twisting the nozzle to almost as hot as it went. The droplets scorched my skin as I stood under the rain, washing my limp hair and exhaling in relief. Hot showers reawakened my senses, and today I needed a boost. Today I planned on finding a job, and I couldn’t be sleepy and hungover when meeting prospective bosses.

Climbing out of the shower into the steamy bathroom, I toweled off my damp hair and swiped a hand across the foggy mirror. In the small strip I’d wiped away, I saw the slight bags under my eyes and a dull look in the green orbs. I was almost glad I couldn’t see the rest of myself.

Tying off my robe, I exited the bathroom and went downstairs to get some breakfast. Hannah was at the table reading a magazine, and Luke had his head in the fridge searching for something to eat. Michael and Ashton had already left, and once again Calum was nowhere to be seen.

“Morning, sleeping beauty,” Luke greeted her with a grin, leaning on the top of the fridge door with his forearm. “You feeling the effects of your wild night out?” Somehow when Luke teased me, it made me smile; the complete opposite reaction I had when Calum mocked me.

“Oh yeah, this headache is really fun.” I instantly headed for the coffee, knowing some strong caffeine was just what I needed.

Hannah waved her magazine at Luke. “If you think last night was wild for the two of us, think again. We got into some crazy shit at school that you haven’t even seen yet.” Luke put his hands up in defeat, and I shook my head and chuckled as I joined Hannah at the table.

“Oh yeah, because jello shots are really out of the box.” I took a sip of the steaming coffee, not even caring that it burnt the tip of my tongue.

Hannah’s eyes tracked Luke behind us until he disappeared into the other room, upon which she pressed her palms to the table and sighed.

“Ashton must have asked me a million questions last night,” she hissed under her breath, and I set my mug down worriedly.

“About what?” Even my whispered words wavered slightly.

“What do you think? You, me, why we’re not at school right now when everybody else is. And I know Ashton wouldn’t just ask me if the other guys hadn’t told him to, which means they’re dying to know too.”

I bit my lip, a thousand thoughts running through my head. “What do they want to know? I mean, we just met, I’m not gonna tell them my whole life story.”

Hannah nodded. “I know, and I’m not exactly thrilled at the idea of telling Ashton I flunked out.” Her voice was thick with disappointment, and I reached across the table to give her hand a sympathetic pat. I knew Hannah was secretly really embarrassed and ashamed of her grades. Even though Ashton never went to college himself, Hannah wanted to prove she wasn’t an idiot, since he was always considered the smart one of the pair. She also couldn’t face her parents, as they would surely throttle her if they found out she left school.

I sighed, and ran a nervous hand through my damp hair. “Look, I have every intention of going back once I sort things out, and I’m sure if you can figure out a different school and just lie and say you transferred.”

She laughed darkly. “Transferred to a community college? Oh yeah, I’ll be a laughing stock to my family.” Hannah shook her head, as if to clear these negative thoughts. “Whatever, that’s not important right now. But you’re sure you want to keep the stuff about your parents quiet? No one would judge you, Scar, if anything they’d--”

“Pity me,” I interjected. “They would pity me, and that is the last thing I want from the guys. I want their respect first, and then maybe I’ll tell them.”

Hannah shrugged. “Whatever you say, but it can’t be healthy to bottle it all up inside--”

“Bottle what up inside?”

Of course Calum strode in at this very moment. He had changed into joggers and a black muscle tee with holes around the collar. His hair had dried and was thick around his forehead. He reached for the coffee and as he poured himself a cup, his mocking brown eyes watched us at the table.

“We’re talking about emotions and feelings, Calum, something you would never be able to understand,” Hannah fired back, causing him to scowl.

“Damn, ouch,” Luke laughed as he reentered. “What a lovely morning this is shaping up to be.

The four of us ate in relative silence. I was glad when Luke sat next to me so that Calum couldn’t. He sat diagonal to me, eating the same frosted cereal as yesterday. I was sick of the quiet in the room, and decided to speak up.

“I’m gonna go see about that job at the cafe,” I informed them. “Never too soon to start earning money.”

Luke set his orange juice on the table. “I would offer you a ride, but Mike and I share the station wagon and he’s already gone. Same with Ashton.”

Hannah’s piercing blue eyes slid to Calum next to her, who hadn’t looked up. When he realized we were waiting for him, he glared across the table.

“What, I’m supposed to jump at volunteering?”

I repressed a sigh. I didn’t exactly want Calum to drive me, but clearly that was the simplest answer. However, I wasn’t about to show him I relied on him and let him toy with this like he always did. Instead, I shook my head.

“No, I don’t want a ride. I think it’ll do me good to figure out the bus system. I don’t ever wanna rely on any of you for a ride, you already do too much.”

Hannah and Luke nodded while Calum rolled his eyes and returned his attention to his cereal. Straightening my posture, I refused to let his rudeness affect me. I needed to be confident today, and someone like Calum knew just how to strip this away.

I left breakfast to get ready, opting for a nice pair of jeans and simple sweater with a jacket. I liked looking put together and composed; it helped me feel that way on the inside.

“Wish me luck,” I called at the front door, and I saw Luke give me a thumbs up from the kitchen.

“Go get ‘em, girl!” Hannah yelled. Calum remained stoically silent.

There was a bus stop at the corner of the street, and I pulled up the schedule on my phone. Hannah had given me the address, and I was pleased to see it wasn’t far at all. God, I hope I get the job, I thought, chewing my lip. It would make this stressful time that much easier.

The bus came and I took a seat close to the back, peering out the window and familiarizing myself with the area. It was a great city, and a part of me could see settling down here.

No, the goal is college, I reminded myself. This is meant to be extremely temporary. And besides, no matter how much I liked the city it would always feel like I was borrowing it. It belonged to Hannah and the guys, the same way the house did. I would always be a guest here, would never feel like I was really meant to stay.

The cafe was earthy and quaint, and upon stepping through the door I was hit by a waft of roasted coffee. There was in fact a hiring sign outside, with quite a few exclamation marks, which would hopefully work in my favor.

I approached the counter confidently. “Hi, I heard you guys were hiring and was wondering if I could fill out an application?”

The worker looked relieved once I asked. He was around my age, with black earrings and a nose ring. His name tag read Roger. “Thank god. Mack was convinced we’d never find an applicant. Hold on, I’ll get him for you now.”

I smiled, pleasantly surprised at his enthusiastic answer. A minute passed, and Roger returned with an older man, who thankfully didn’t look too intimidating. He had graying hair and a bushy mustache, and smelled strongly off baking scones.

“You’re here about the job?” He got straight to the point, and I smiled as I pushed a lock of hair behind my ear.

“Yes, absolutely. I have my resume right here, and was just hoping to get an interview today, whatever you wanted.”

Mack waved his hand dismissively. “Lemme see the resume.” I reached into my bag and pulled it out, handing it over with a breathless grin.

“I’m still enrolled in college,” I said quickly, embellishing my story slightly. “I’m earning credits for my degree from home right now.” I hoped the explanation sounded mature and not like an excuse I was desperately trying to push.

Mack studied the paper in a matter of seconds, and slapped it on the counter. Roger was grinning behind him, arms folded.

“I’m gonna be honest with you,” Mack started, and I nodded. “I really need the help right now. Normally, I’d screen a few applicants and worry about experience and whatnot, but I just don’t have the time. So how about I give you a two week test run, and if I think you’re a good fit I’ll hire you officially?”

I had to stop my jaw from dropping to the floor. How is it this easy? I thought, thinking surely there must be a catch. Glancing around, I saw that the cafe was well attended and pretty nice overall, which was encouraging. The only downside to Mack’s offer was the lack of pay for two weeks, but that was honestly fair with such an easy application process.

“Deal,” I said, extending my hand for a shake. Mack smiles hugely and shook my hand, eyes twinkling.

“You just saved me an awful lotta stress, Scarlett,” he said. “I really hope you’re the one for the job.”

I left after thanking him again profusely, and had to hold in a squeal. I called Hannah immediately to gush about my success, and she said we had to celebrate. We spent the day window shopping and trying on expensive clothes we’d never buy, but she made me swear I’d buy a tight cream colored dress once I got my first paycheck. Hannah insisted it made me look like a million bucks, and I had to admit I liked that idea.

By the time we got home it was well after dinner and the guys had disbanded. Michael and Luke texted saying they were with some friends getting a drink, and with Calum’s missing mustang I assumed he was with them. Hannah got a surprise call from her parents once we walked through the door and hastily ran downstairs to take it. A few times I heard her raise her voice to a yell, and I knew they must have found out about her leaving school.

Poor Hannah, I thought as I brushed my teeth, staring into the mirror. I looked radically different from this morning; though I still had on an oversized tee shirt and shorts, my eyes were sparking with confidence and exuberance at getting a job, and the hangover had finally cleared along with the dark circles. My cheery mood continued as I strolled downstairs, starving as I decided to make a simple sandwich and catch up on some reading.

The yelling stopped and I assumed Hannah had gone to bed, so I was peacefully alone in the kitchen with my book. I was so engrossed in it I barely heard the front door open. Unfortunately, I couldn’t ignore Calum swaggering into the kitchen to grab a beer, and I swallowed a bite of my sandwich nervously.

“Hey,” I said tentatively, praying he wouldn’t be mean for once. Something was off about his appearance; his tee shirt was wrinkled and his belt wasn’t fully done on his jeans. His hair was super messy and his eyes were glazed, and I spotted a dark mark on his neck.

Oh.

“Why are you still awake? It’s like 3am.” He flipped open his beer and took a swig, taking in my appearance at the table.

I hugged my knee closer to my chest and shrugged, a few pieces of hair escaping my bun to block my eyes. “Not really tired.”

He met my eyes, and I tried to hide the fact that I knew what he’d just come home from. He didn’t seem as cocky as normal, his hook-up actually subduing his sharp attitude. I still felt wildly uncomfortable under his close brown gaze though, and it took everything in me not to shy away.

Finally, he broke the stare to take another sip of beer. “Goodnight, Scarlett,” he said before disappearing upstairs, and I stayed rooted to the spot in shock for a few moments more.

I don’t know what shocked me more; his lack of cruel comments or the fact that he’d actually used my name for the first time.

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erraticrandomficwriter · 4 years

Photo

Flashes of the Past - an Underworld Plot Bunny

This night was the same as most – the dreams were the same as most. Only now they grew more frequent. The images in her dreams – in her nightmares – haunted her ever since she was a child. A woman tied to a pillar looking upon a man chained to the floor before the sun shone upon her and burned her alive. As a child these nightmares were terrifying and as she grew older she realized the woman she was growing to be was the same as the woman she was watching die over and over again...

Anya Corvin awoke with a gasp just before her alarm went off. She slammed her hand down upon it with more force than necessary before getting out of bed. Anya went into the kitchen of the apartment she shared with her twin brother Michael to get some coffee before getting ready for work. She absentmindedly brought the coffee pot over to the sink to fill with water as her mind flashed back to the nightmare she awoke from. Anya was so focused on the flashes that she didn’t even realize the pot was running over.

“Another nightmare, Annie?” Michael could just tell by her zoning out that was likely what happened. He turned off the water, took the pot from her, dumped some of the excess water out and tended to the coffee.

“Same as always. I can’t believe I’m actually longing for the dream with the killer clowns. At least that one makes sense.” Anya grabbed a couple of the mugs from the cupboard and set them upon the counter. Her mind was about to wander again but thankfully Michael spoke before it could get too far.

“The downstairs neighbors still think we’re married.” Michael knew that would spark enough of a conversation to keep Anya’s mind focused for a little while anyway.

Anya scoffed with crossed arms as she leaned back against the counter. “I know we look nothing alike, but how many times must we explain it to them? I swear it’s like a fetish to them or something.”

Michael couldn’t argue with her there. “You might want to get ready. Don’t want to miss the subway.”

Anya looked at the time and back to the coffee that wasn’t finished yet. “But…but…the coffee…”

“Will be ready and waiting in a thermos when you return.” Michael plucked her thermos out of the cupboard for good measure.

“Have I ever told you you’re my favorite brother?” Anya beamed as she returned to her room to get ready for her shift at the hospital – the same shift she shared with Michael.

“That hardly feels like a victory when I win by default!” Michael called out to her just as she closed the door and kept his word by getting the coffee ready for her so they could get right out the door.

Meanwhile, Anya needed a moment to compose herself – to center herself before changing because she couldn’t shake the feeling of her nightmares this time and didn’t know why.

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The rain poured down from the sky as Michael and Anya made their way through the crowd to get to the subway. Once they descended the stairs, Anya removed her hood and wrung out her long, dark hair. “Remind me to invest in an umbrella one of these days.”

“Like you’d ever use it,” Michael chuckled in reply. “Knowing you, you’d only remember to bring it on sunny days.”

Anya narrowed her eyes at her brother. “I hate it when you’re right.”

“You must hate it all the time then,” Michael laughed back as he weaved through the crowd to get to their train that had just arrived.

Anya was right behind Michael and almost bumped into him when he stopped suddenly. “And here I thought zoning was my thing.”

Michael had seen a woman that captivated his attention for a moment but as soon as Anya spoke, he was centered once again. “Sorry, I just…nevermind. We’re going to be late.”

Anya and Michael were just about to get onto the train when suddenly they heard a man bellow out the word ‘Bloods!’ before rapid gunfire.

Upon hearing the gunfire, Michael darted into the train car with Anya and dropped to the floor with her. Michael made sure he was over Anya so if any bullets went flying their way that he’d be hit instead of her.

Anya didn’t want Michael to be hit either but his protective stance was so firm that he wasn’t going to budge. It wasn’t until they heard a woman cry out that Michael moved slightly. They both saw an innocent bystander laying out on the platform after being hit in the shoulder by a bullet. The twins shared a look with each other – a silent conversation – and they both agreed they needed to help her.

Michael had something to make clear first, but didn’t get a chance to tell Anya to stay behind him before she quickly darted out of the train car while the gun firing paused due to likely reloading to get over to the woman. Knowing that time was limited, he went right after her.

They slid the woman away from the center of the platform against the wall and Anya pressed down upon the wound while Michael assured her she would be alright. Anya didn’t share the sentiment because the woman was tremoring badly, almost like she was seizing. “It’s like she’s having an allergic reaction to the bullet.”

Neither of them had time to figure that out because one of the gunmen appeared out of nowhere and grabbed hold of Michael. Before either could react, the gunwoman who had captivated Michael’s previous attention started firing at the man who had a grip on Michael and thus Michael was quickly released.

Anya, keeping one hand on the woman’s wound, used her other to hold onto Michael’s arm. “What the fuck?!”

Michael shared her sentiments and was just as confused as she was – not to mention shaken up, but he wasn’t going to admit to that. Instead, he just worked with Anya to make sure the woman didn’t lose any more blood than she already had before the paramedics could arrive.

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After breaking up a ‘rabid dog fight’ among his Lycan ranks, Lucian goes to the ‘laboratory’ area of their underground lair to check upon the status of their most recent Corvin capture. Lucian arrives just as his Lycan biochemist Singe removed the Corvin’s blood. “Any progress?”

Singe brought the blood over to a beaker as he replied with, “Let’s find out.” After running the test he found this Corvin was also negative for the Corvinus strain and informed Lucian of such. “Negative.”

Lucian was not pleased by this news in the least. This process of elimination was taking far too long. He needed the last Corvin on the list…he needed both of them.

Lucian went over to the board outlining the Corvinus line through the generations and locked upon the photograph of Anya with Michael. “And her? Any explanation yet?”

“She is human,” Singe explained as he crossed off the name upon of the wall of the failed attempt. “Twin to Michael Corvin. How she looks like the woman you knew, I cannot explain. There are stories of Doppelgangers and reincarnation, of course, but I do not know if they are true. We live in a world of Magic and Science, so anything is possible.”

Lucian looked away from the photograph – the echo of the woman he loved – and got back to business. “She may also have the strain?”

“If Michael does it is almost definite.” Singe reiterated a fact he and Lucian already knew, “I need both their blood. To leave no stone unturned, I need them both.”

One way or another, Lucian would make sure both Michael and the one named Anya would be retrieved…for more reasons than one.

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Anya ran a hand through her hair as she walked down the hallway with Michael toward their apartment. “I cannot believe we both actually went to work after what happened at the subway.”

“Honestly…neither can I.” Michael slowed his pace when he heard a telephone ringing and held his arm back to keep Anya from going past him. Why? Because the ringing was coming from their apartment…their open apartment. “Stay here.” He knew Anya was about to argue with him, so he made himself clear. “Stay here.”

Anya held up her hands in defeat and waited out in the hall while Michael went in to check it out. It’d been like this since they were kids – Michael was always the one looking out for her, protecting her, and keeping her out of trouble. Of course Anya would always do the same for him when she could, but he was definitely the protector in this ‘twinship’ of theirs.

Anya was quite literally twiddling her thumbs in the hallway until she heard a loud thud and a woman’s voice demanding to know why ‘they’ were after them. She darted into the doorway only to stop when loud roaring and thudding was coming from the ceiling and Michael was running out of there like a bat out of hell, taking her along with him.

Michael had no idea what was going on but he quickly came up with a plan. According to the unusually strong woman, someone was after him and Anya and apparently they were there. He thought for the moment it was best to split up so he quickly said, “Take the stairs!”, while he went to the elevator. Michael figured they’d expect them both to take the elevator, so making Anya take the stairs would give her a little more time to get away. At least that was his hope.

Anya didn’t have time to argue with Michael so she split off from him and took the stairs. She quickly went down flight after flight, the echoes of roars and gunfire seemed to circle around her until she made it to the bottom floor’s exit.

Anya burst through the doorway just in time to see a man…a creature drove his teeth into Michael’s shoulder. “Michael!” she screamed and pulled with all her might to get the man off her brother. When the man turned around and looked at her with unnatural blue eyes and fangs, she froze with a gasp. It wasn’t because of his eyes or his fangs that made her freeze…it was his face. She had seen his face before almost every night in her nightmares…in her dreams. “It’s you…”

Anya was pulled from her shock when the gunwoman from the subway appeared and dragged Michael away from them. “No!” She tried to run after them but wasn’t able to due to the man grabbing hold of her.

“Forgive me,” he requested before hitting her head against the hallway’s wall, rendering her unconscious.

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When Anya awoke she was in some sort of…place. It was cold and damp and likely an abandoned subway station or something. All she knew was that it looked like something plucked out of a horror movie with the shackles hanging from the ceilings, an Frankenstein-esque table, and dingy lab equipment everywhere. “Michael?” she called out as her vision fluctuated with her pounding headache. “Michael?!”

Someone entered the room through the plastic curtains at that moment, but it wasn’t Michael or the man who she saw in her dreams. It was another man who looked annoyed with her…annoyed and angry.

“Shut up!” he seethed before backhanding her across the face.

Anya gasped from the sudden hard impact and practically jumped out of her skin when she heard a loud growl coming from the man who bit Michael. The man ordered the one who hit her never to do it again or else he’d kill him. Anya tried to get up and get away but couldn’t for two reasons – she was very dizzy and she just realized her wrist was shackled to a chain to the wall behind her chair. Things were not looking well.

The man who bit Michael crouched in front of her and reached out to move some hair from her face. Of course she recoiled because of everything, but relaxed just slightly when he assured her that he wasn’t going to hurt her again and apologized profusely for doing so prior.

“Who are you? And where is Michael? Where is my brother?” It unnerved Anya that she questioned who the man was before asking about her brother.

“My apologies, based upon your initial reaction I thought you knew who I was. I am Lucian and presently I do not know where Michael is, but I intend to change that and reunite you with him.” Lucian moved some hair out of her face and stared into her eyes. Despite being human they were Sonja’s eyes. Despite being human, everything about this woman was Sonja. “Do you know who I am?”

“No,” Anya replied as she moved her face away from his lingering touch because all it did was make her flash back to her dreams. “I don’t understand what’s going on. Why am I here? What do you want from me?”

“I will answer your questions as soon as I get my own answered.” Lucian was disappointed that she didn’t know who he was and that disappointment led to frustration. He picked up an empty syringe and went over to Anya. “May I?”

“You want my blood? No fucking way!” Anya bolted to her feet and instantly regretted it because her head was pounding once again, so she had to sit. When Lucian moved to help her back down, she didn’t try to stop him. In that moment she decided to compromise. “If you want my blood you have to answer my question. Do we have a deal?”

Lucian smiled at this, he couldn’t help it. He didn’t mind waiting to know if she carried the Strain as well since he already knew Michael did thanks to the blood he retrieved during the bite. “We have a deal.”

Anya closed her eyes for a moment and let the images of the dreams filter through before asking, “What do you know about a man shackled to the floor as he watched a woman upon a pillar being burned alive?”

Lucian was shocked by her question. How could she possibly know about Sonja’s last moments if she wasn’t Sonja herself? “Why do you ask?” That was all he could think to say in the moment.

“I’ve been dreaming about that moment for as long as I can remember. When I grew older I realized I was the woman I was seeing and when I saw you…you were the man. Do you know anything about this?” Anya needed to know and she felt like he was the only one who could tell her.

Lucian looked away for a moment as he debated upon what to say. Finally he spoke by saying, “If you want to know everything, it is going to take some time.”

Anya raised her shackled wrist to make her point. “Does it look like I’m going anywhere?” She believed Lucian when he said he would reunite her with Michael. Anya couldn’t explain why she believed it, but she did, so now she wanted to know everything. And everything was what Lucian told her…

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End Part 1

#underworld plot bunny #anya corvin

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scribeofmorpheus · 5 years

Text

Mark of the Wolf Part 13

Catch Up Here!

Pairing: Derek Hale x Reader (Lastname: Markolf)

Words: 3k

Warnings: Exposition dump!

A/N: This chapter and I are frenemies. On the one hand, I love delving into lore, on the other... I don’t like info dumbing, but... Yeah. Also, I didn’t get a chance to work on some things that I had originally intended but the good news is that the action picks up in chapter 14! I haven’t proofread so bear with me.

Leave a like or reblog if you enjoyed this chapter! It helps ☺

"Vampires?" Peter huffed with a humorous chortle in his throat.

Maggie pinched the bridge of her nose, annoyed that he had interrupted her mid-sentence, "Not in the conventional Vlad the Impaler sense… but yes, for lack of a better term, 'vampire' is as accurate an explanation as I can give."

Theo chuckled under his breath, his body shaking with amusement, "Vampires. Now I've heard it all."

"Almost everyone in this room is a werewolf and you're a chimera, but for some reason believing in a well-established mythological creature just as popular as the werewolf is where you draw the line?" Stiles gawked at both Peter and Theo.

"I'll believe it when I see it," Peter folded his arms.

"Perhaps if you'd let Maggie finish what she was telling us, we'd have an easier time swallowing this 'vampires exist' pill," Stiles posited with some annoyance in his voice.

"Thank you, Stiles," Maggie said gratefully before continuing: "Okay so from what I've gathered, we know that these hunters never appear in daylight and that any effort to kill them hasn’t been successful as far as we know. And according to Derek, when you two were in the dream state, they mentioned something called the Mother Tree and one of them had a tattoo of a five-fold-knot. We also know they are warded off by burning sage."

"Oh, I get where you're going with this," Jonah plopped down onto several cushions and crossed his legs. "Sage is their garlic… right?"

"What?" Esme frowned, lost in translation.

"Because vampires can't stand garlic. So if these hunters are some type of vampires, then sage is their garlic," Jonah said excitedly. "Oh, oh, oh, does that mean that we have to whittle stakes to kill them?"

“They do suck people’s essences out of their body, don’t forget that,” Peter added dryly.

Jonah’s eyes went large and his jaw dropped, “Woah! Maybe they are vampires.”

"That's all well and good, Speedy, but that's not what I was getting at," Maggie patted his back appreciatively. "I was going to say that the Mother Tree is probably a very old Nematon and sage is an ancient ingredient used by druids for centuries, usually to cleanse negative energy and such. Naturally, this led Deaton and I to the legend of the liaths. And they in turn led us to--"

"Now I’m confused," Derek jumped in. "What's a liath?"

Maggie pursed her lips as she thought of the simplest way to explain it to them.

It was Deaton who chimed in this time, "The same way druid emissaries are a force for good and darachs are a force of evil, liaths are those caught in between. They don't really serve any one side."

Esme pulled out a scroll from a stack of papers shoved in the bookcase after Maggie whispered something in her ear. Once it was unrolled, a large portrait of several faces stared back at you from the crumbling paper. You gasped when you saw what looked to be a perfect illustration of Alyster and Astrid and that kitsune -Kaze- from before.

“Are these the guys who attacked you in the church in Mexico?” Maggie’s dark nails scrapped over the paper slightly and the noise made a few of the werewolves in the room cringe.

"That's impossible," Peter chocked on his words as he took a closer step to see the scroll better. "They look exactly as they did in your memories..."

"They haven't aged a day," Liam said in amazement.

"I thought so," Maggie popped her knuckles, bangles sliding down her arm nosily, "That is one of the few remaining iterations of an ancient order known as the Venatores -which Stiles told me you had already figured out thanks to Lydia’s translations. Over the years they’ve been called different names: Order of Osiris, Order of Sagittarius, The Solstice Hunters… it goes on and on. They've been around for thousands of years."

"Why?" you finally spoke, but your voice was shakier than you would have liked. "What do they want?"

Derek's eyes fell on you when he heard the subtle quake in your words, he instinctively took a step closer to you but then stopped himself from moving any closer. That awkward tension was still strong between you two. You dreaded the fact that you'd have to talk about the kiss... eventually.

Markus rubbed your arms to comfort you, it helped but not by much.

Maggie opened her mouth to answer you but couldn't pull through. Having sensed Maggie's distress from trying to answer your question, Esme laced her fingers with hers in a silent act of assurance.

"What is it?" you asked frantically, eyes searching the pile of notes and sketches and open books for any clues. Markus held you fast so you didn't shake like a leaf in front of everyone.

Theo exhaled loudly, his fingers scratching at his eyebrow, "Isn't it obvious. They want what they've always wanted. You. Dead. The real question is why?" He turned his attention back to Maggie, ignoring your distraught expression.

A hush fell over the room and you could see Markus's eyes squint in Theo's direction when you turned to jelly in his arms from dread.

"He's not wrong," Peter mumbled and Derek jabbed his side with his elbow forcing a cough out of Peter’s mouth.

You took in a deep breath and sat down on a chair, head in your hands as you blinked back the image of Alex lying dead on the ground and Scott and Derek being cornered by the hunters. Your life was turning out to be one great big nightmare, and right now you were beginning to resent the fact you hadn't gone with Alyster. With that thought, a tingle returned to your lips and you were reminded of the kiss. It brought with it a bitter-sweetness that kept you grounded while your thoughts bounced all over the place. You felt like you were going insane.

As though to shift the focus and clear the stale air, Deaton pushed a large, musty-smelling book towards the group and flipped it 180 degrees. His finger tapped on an illustration of an intricate compass that looked to be hundreds of years old. "Is this the device that the man -Alyster- had around his neck?"

You studied the detailed drawing and then nodded weakly, "Yeah, that's it. What is it?"

"It's called the Oculus. It grants the wearer an ability to wield the Wadjet, it is more popularly known as the--"

"Eye of Horus," Markus interjected, brows knit in thought. A few people shot him surprised looks and he just shrugged them off with a nonchalant: "I have a masters in history."

"That's right," Deaton affirmed. "Horus is associated with protection from evil spirits and he is usually depicted as a falcon, hence the reason why this Alyster's eyes change when he activates the Oculus."

"So now we're fighting ancient Egyptians? I--" Liam plopped down next to Jonah and just stared blankly at the floor. "Can someone just run us by the SparkNotes version or...?"

Esme laughed and sat atop the table with one leg dangling over the air, "You gotta brush up on your storytelling skills, hon." she smiled at the very exhausted Maggie.

Deaton cleared his throat before throwing his hypothesis out for everyone to ponder, “I think this amulet gives him the ability to track and locate the Order’s targets. I also think it’s used as an anchor to a much more powerful source of magic.”

Maggie jumped in on Deaton’s bandwagon and started breaking down what everyone knew, "Okay, so from what Stiles found out, we know that these hunters have some sacred mission linked to all their killing. We now also know they're older than dirt so… that's a plus because there’ll be a trail left behind somewhere. What we didn't know before was, just as Theo put it, why they do what they do. Until now."

Maggie placed a book identical to the one Stiles had been trying to translate in the bunker days prior, “According to this text, the Order was established by a group of druids, liaths and darachs alike. A few hundred years ago a plague nearly wiped out all shapeshifters on earth -that's why our numbers are so low despite how long we've been around. Those that were immune stopped presenting the ability to shift. Those who contracted the plague were killed by the Order. It was called the First Coming of the End of Days. The sacred duty of the Order -or Venatores- was to try and prevent a second coming. The druids on this council feared that the plague would one day return, and so they created these hunters using the sacred power stored inside the oldest focal point of concentrated magic in their village. A Nematon. And since Nematon’s have a tendency to influence the formation of telluric currents, we believe that’s where the Oculus comes into play. We think after they absorb someone’s essence, the Oculus channels that energy into the earth and sends it somewhere else using telluric currents.”

Peter ran a hand through his face, his jaw muscles tensing, "Oh for the love of- So far, all you've told us is that these hunters are very old, very unkillable and very specific in choosing their victims. None of that helps us in any way. I want to know how to kill them, and if we can't, I'd like the quickest route to the airport please." He flashed a forced smile and everyone collectively sighed.

"Scott, how do you feel about all this, you've been quiet during this whole thing," Derek ignored Peter's outburst and placed his focus on Scott, who looked to be in his own little world.

Scott stretched and turned his head up to regard everyone's inquisitive gazes, "Honestly, my whole life has been one impossible thing succeeding another and another… So what if they're vampires or if they're supposedly the first warning sign of the end of days. A few days ago, Monroe was our biggest worry, now she's dead and her numbers are cut in half. That's one crisis averted. Things have a way of balancing themselves out. We just have to maintain cool heads until they do."

Stiles paced about the room before clapping his hands together at the prospect of a new idea dawning over him, “Uh, hey, Maggie, you got a map that displays telluric currents?”

Maggie moved about the room in a hurry, but it was Markus that came to the rescue, “Here,” he handed Stiles a map he had grabbed from a trunk. “Telluric currents were a passion project of mine. I’m a bit of a nerd for this stuff.”

Stiles slapped Markus’s large arms in thanks and winced before flicking his hand at the wrist several times, “Ow, what do they feed you?”

“Kibble,” Markus joked dryly. “Why the map?”

“I’m thinking if we spot any major changes between the data on this map and a more recent one, we can determine whether this Oculus theory is accurate and maybe plot out where the fluctuations lead to,” Stiles fumbled with the map until he gave up and handed it to Scott who unfolded it with ease.

"That just might work…” Markus looked over your shoulder, his attentions shifted onto the piece of paper in front of you. “What are you drawing?"

You furrowed your brows, confused by his question and then looked down to where his eyes were focused. On the page were several pened drawings of a bow and shank of a key without a bit. To your surprise, you had been scribbling the symbol from the car ride over and over.

"I… I didn't know I was doing it," you sat up from the chair and dropped the pen like it had burned you.

"I know this symbol. Professor Tennyson ran a class on semiotics. That's the Ankh. The Egyptian symbol of life," Markus finished the symbol by drawing a line that intersected between the bow and shank of the key.

"Okay, but that doesn't explain why I'm drawing random symbols without thinking it..." you looked to everyone in the room and saw Stiles raise his hand. ”Stiles?"

"Ah, yeah, so I was possessed once by an evil kitsune's spirit and that would sometimes cause me to do things I didn't remember doing," he shoved both his hands in his pockets and started rocking on the balls of his feet, lips pressed tightly together when he noticed Jonah's jaw practically fall to the ground.

Everyone in the room took a tentative step back or inched away from you. You rolled your eyes at their behaviour.

"I'm not possessed. I think I'd know if I was possessed," you bit back.

"I'm pretty sure that's not how that works," Liam chimed in, his words muffled by his curled hand placed on his chin and lips.

"Maybe its residual magic from when Alyster was inside your head," Esme said casually as she took a bite of an apple.

"Alyster was in your head?" Markus repeated in shock. "How? When? How? And why didn't you say anything?"

"Oh, I'm sorry, I was under the impression that everyone heard my conversation with Esme and Maggie a few nights ago," you glared at Derek. "Seeing as how I live in a house full of werewolves with supernatural hearing."

Peter coughed again, but this time it was to hide his grin and laughter. Derek opened his mouth to say something but Deaton's busy hands rustling through papers and books garnered everyone's attentions away from the two of you.

"What are ya thinking?" Maggie asked him.

"I think Esme is right, and I think there's a pattern we aren't seeing," he answered.

"What pattern?" Scott moved closer to the table.

"Semiotics," Deaton smiled when he pulled up an encyclopaedia. "First, Alyster mentioned a Mother Tree. Then we find out that the hunters are the closest thing to immortal as we can get and now Y/N is unknowingly sketching the Ankh of all thing. Do you see it yet?”

“These are all three very different things,” Liam nodded.

“N-no… They are all linked by one semiotic message. Life,” Deaton said, his finger pointing into the air stiffly like he was giving a powerpoint presentation. “Every spell draws power from somewhere. All magic is just an exchange of energy.”

“So what if they’re killing people for fuel?” Derek posited, stepping closer to you and the table.

“Why don’t we just ask one of them?” Theo’s bored tone swept through the room.

Stiles squinted at him, “What? Just stroll up to them and ask one of them to come over for tea and crumpets?” he retorted sarcastically.

“No, I mean like set a trap, kidnap them and then try different methods of murder until one of them sticks,” he stated morbidly.

Jonah swallowed loudly and hid half his face behind a pillow, “That sounds mean.”

“It doesn’t count if they’re immortal,” Theo smirked.

Esme lobbed her apple at his face, some of its fleshy interior broke off and showered around Theo’s feet in juicy sprays. He wiped the residual bits off with his jackets sleeve and a sour face.

“Don’t fill his head with such things. You aren’t helping. Out!” Esme pointed to the door and Theo lifted his hands defensively as he strode out confidently.

“Can I leave too, or are we only handing out hall passes if we say insensitive things?” Peter pointed to Theo’s retreating form. “Because, let me tell you, I have so man—“

Esme lobbed another apple but Peter’s quick reflexes caught in just before it touched his nose. He crushed the apple in his hands and made quite the show of it, “I take it that was a no?”

“Stop being an ass, Peter. Otherwise, the next thing someone throws at you will be a stake,” Derek spoke over his shoulder without looking up from the map Stiles had laid down.

“A stake…” Peter glanced at Jonah and then back up at Derek’s back. “The kid was onto something!”

“W- Who me?” Jonah bounced on the couch, happy to be included in the discourse. “About what? Vampire stakes?”

Peter rose a brow and said, “Yes.”

No one moved an inch, the only sound in the room was the passing of wind and Stiles flipping map pages like he was ripping rice paper apart.

“Think about it,” Peter wiped his hands on Scott’s shirt and Scott simply sighed. “Maybe 'vampire' isn’t the most far off explanation after all. I mean… what if we need a very specific weapon to kill these hunters? Maggie said that they were created using magic from a Nematon. And Deaton thinks the Oculus is used to traverse through telluric currents -Hell, I bet that’s how they travel so quickly too!- Maybe we need a piece of the thing that made them, to kill them!”

Esme worked her back muscles before begrudgingly siding with Peter, “I hate to say this, but maybe the ass is right.”

“Well that’s just rude,” Peter complained. “But at least you can see the obvious genius in my explanation. And look at that, I didn’t even take a whole morning to explain things to everyone.”

Markus rubbed his eyebrows, “So we find this tree and…”

“I found it! I found the spot where the telluric lines converge!” Stiles cheered by himself, fist-pumping in the air. Jonah joined along too figuring it was the more appropriate thing to do in this situation. Then Stiles’s face fell and he swore under his breath as he looked over the map on his phone and the one of the table.

Derek sighed, his teeth clenching in disappointment, “It’s in Sweden.”

The room collectively groaned.

“Well we can scratch that off the list because there’s no way we’d be able to go all the way to Sweden and back before the hunters murder everyone,” Peter sat on the windowsill looking defeated. “Come to think of it, why haven’t they found us yet? It’s been days. Last time it took them mere hours to find us after we’d crossed the border into Mexico.”

Maggie was chewing a biscuit and had to dry swallow most of it to answer him, “We’ve been taking turns burning sage pales around the property's border. I’m surprised you haven’t smelt it.”

“I just thought that was the usual smell around here,” Peter mumbled snidely.

“Actually, I don’t think we have to go very far to get what we need,” Deaton stated. “Most Nematon’s come from the same root. In theory, all we have to do is head back to Beacon Hills to get what we need.”

“Then I guess we’re going back to Beacon Hills,” You stood from the chair, spine groaning from being stretched too suddenly. “If you want to test out your stake theory, you’re going to need bait.”

“It’ll be dangerous,” Derek protested in a dark voice.

“Then you’ll just have to protect me. Like you promised,” you spoke with confidence.

“Shotgun!” Peter said loudly with a mischievous wink sent Derek’s way.

It didn’t take long for a plan to be formed. Soon after everyone was familiar with their roles, they all broke off to start packing up.

You had started packing up some of the clothes you’d found in your old drawers. You didn’t know why you were doing this but it seemed to help, it kept your mind busy. Markus, Esme and Maggie had argued for you to stay home and let everyone else handle everything, but in the end, they were left with no option but to concede. Even though it was dangerous, you were right, the plan wouldn’t work if you stayed behind.

Maggie gave you a pendant with a hollow locket filled with sage essential oils so you could stay shielded from the Order during your drive back. There was a spot on your chest that always got a little oily if the necklace stayed still for too long. You made a habit of wringing the charm along the silver chain in between still moments.

There was a rap at your door and you started from your thoughts, “Come in.”

It was Derek.

“Got a minute?” he asked from behind the ajar door.

“All I’ve got are minutes.”

He hummed before walking in and closing the door behind him, affording himself some privacy, “I wanted to talk to you about--“

“The kiss,” you said simply.

“Yeah, listen, it was a spur of the moment thing. It was a heated argument and you were so stubborn that I felt like I couldn’t get a word in,” Derek tried to explain while his hands fidgeted.

“Right. It was the only thing you could think to do.”

“Yes!” His eyes lit up.

“Like in the dreamscape…”

“Yes!” then his eyes grew serious and his cheeks went hot. “Wait, that’s not what I was getting at…”

You laughed, stuffing more clothes into your bag, though at this point the only thing left were baby booties and torn towels, “Relax Derek. I’m not going to eat you. As long as you don't make things awkward, I won't make things awkward.” You joked.

He held you steady and stared you dead in the centre of your eyes, you shivered again, your lips going numb as they remembered what it felt like to have Derek's lips over them.

“Look, I came here to tell you… It was a mistake, for me to have kissed you… in that way. I promise I won’t do it again,” he released his grip from your arms and you felt an odd sense of disappointment at having heard those words.

Derek pulled the door handle and before he stepped out of your room, he whispered, “Not until you ask me to.”

Your knees caved in and you crashed onto your bed. You didn’t know what to say or think or feel. You were left feeling dazed again. It was turning into a force of habit now. But behind your fear and uncertainty, behind your broken heart that still mourned Alex, you felt a glimmer of warmth spread through you. It felt like molten sunshine. Bright and happy.

As the sensation spread, you fought the sudden urge to smile in spite of all the devastation you had faced –and were about to face.

Next Chapter>>

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#derek hale #teen wolf imagine #derek hale x reader #derek hale imagine #teen wolf #derek x you #derek x reader #E- Waste Drive in the background of the gif kills me #ehhh... I promise the next chapter is better

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artisticvicu · 4 years

Text

Howling at the Moon

She landed hard on the other side of the portal, his arms still securely around her. He cussed in that guttural language of his as she sucked in a breath and choked on it.

“Damnit,” he snarled near her ear as noise filled wherever they were at. Choking on the air she was breathing, she shoved at him, at the hands on her, desperate for space to breathe but he wasn’t unmoving. Voices filled the noise and she finally registered that others had arrived. “I can but I need a synthesizer.” His voice sounded strange. It rumbled more than it was supposed to. It wasn’t till he shifted under her that she realized he had her against his chest awkwardly upright. “Here,” he urged, his voice loud despite the volume not changing as he shoved something against her face. “Try this till we get a synth on you.”

The mask smelled awful but the first pull of breath cleared the choking immediately. She inhaled greedily for the few seconds it took to calm her system back down. He moved around her, a rumbled, “Thanks,” accompanying his movement. “Let’s get this situated on you.”

She supported herself as he handled what looked to be a bulky collar. It took a second before she realized what it reminded her of. She pressed her left hand against the piece on his chest that was part of the accessory he wore that wasn’t quite a necklace but shaped as one. She felt his chuckle through her hand. “Exactly,” he confirmed, getting the older model to cooperate. “Unfortunately, all we have are old ones but it should work just the same. Here.”

The piece was heavy but nothing she couldn’t deal with. She hoped. Oddly enough, it was heaviest on her chest rather than her shoulders like she expected, but it wasn’t heavy towards the ground. It was like gravity had rotated for the part on her chest so that it was drawn to some point in her chest or beyond it, making it feel like someone was pressing their hand into her chest. He worked the mechanism closed behind her neck without having her move meaning at least one arm was in her face. She couldn’t smell him through the mask. “Don’t remove that mask until I say. I have to get it set to the right atmosphere.”

Her gaze wandered over what he wasn’t physically obscuring. Wherever they had been dumped, they were surrounded by people. There was a large number that looked like him, that seemed to share his species. The rest were a wide variety looking like things she never thought actually existed.

She wasn’t sure if she was surprised or not finding she was the only human.

“Alright,” he offered, his voice cautious. He pulled back enough to look at her. “Try that.”

She pulled the mask from her face and took a breath. The smells hit her first but she didn’t immediately start coughing. She breathed normally, waiting.

Nothing happened.

She looked up at him, nodding. “We’re good, as far as I can tell. May take a while before any negative impacts show.”

He nodded, getting her to her feet. “By then we’ll have gotten you a proper one and checked over.” He placed his hands on her shoulders, keeping her close to his front. “Skra.”

One of the stranger looking people stepped forward. “Yeah, Boss.”

“Go let Surge know I need a new model prepped for a being from AE206.” The person nodded - or bowed? She couldn’t tell - and hurried off as his attention moved others. “B’trel, Kors. Let Lady Vetalia know I’ve returned with company. She’ll want to know who it is but tell her she has to come to me to find out. I’m trusting you to stand strong against her.”

“Understood.” “Right, Boss.” A duo hurried off, one looking like his species. The other was...strange.

They were all strange, honestly, but she supposed that was a lack of exposure than actual fact.

“Tellran, get Sri. Tell them I want to see them at medical in ten minutes. Hyrn, get there before us. Ask for an isolated room. Tell them nothing more than I’ve requested it for private use.”

“On it,” was offered by one as two others dashed off. The crowd had thinned significantly.

“Neris, stay. The rest of you back to duties. If I hear word’s gotten out, I know who I’m skinning.”

There was a chorus of affirmations and assurances as all but one body left. The last being’s tail swayed back and forth calmly, yellow eyes on the both of them. “Do you have anything she can wear that’ll hide her for the time being.”

The tail gave a sharp flick as the being blinked. “Probably, but I doubt it will be enough to disguise her for long.”

“I’m not worried about that. As long as it’ll last through medical, that’s all I care about.”

Another sharp flick but the being had tipped their head in thought. “I need two minutes.”

“You have three.”

The figure dashed off. He sighed, his touch slackening on her shoulders. She looked up at him finally. “You could always save yourself the headache and send me back.”

He laughed at that before giving her a toothy grin. “After I went through all the trouble to drag you here? I don’t think so.”

He put pressure at the center of her back, directing her through the hallway. The entire place seemed to be made of metal, like it was some sort of underground world. She kept her eyes on the structure of the world around her as she pointed out, “Can they all really be trusted?”

His hand moved to her shoulder and gave it a squeeze. “I trust them with my life.”

She raised an eyebrow at that. “I highly doubt my life has any equivalence.”

He gave her a toothy grin. “Oh, it doesn’t. You are far more valuable than I am.” She smacked his side at that, gaining a bout of laughter from him. Silence settled between them for a short moment after before he spoke again. “They will be discrete and follow orders. They have no reason to question any of it and no one here would know your significance. Not yet, at least.”

“Thus the need for discretion.”

An affirming hum escaped his chest. “I wouldn’t put it past them to have word out for you here in an hour, if not sooner.”

“Is that possible?”

He shrugged. “Whether it is or isn’t doesn’t matter. We have to act as if it is. Will make it easier in the long run.”

The hallway ended but the walkway didn’t. He kept walking and she followed out onto a suspended walkway. The majority of the view was taken up by massive buildings but what she could see had her coming to a stop.

“Do you….” she started, unsure how to ask it. “Is it a sort of cloud cover or is your sun and sky always like that?”

Beyond the right hand railing the horizon was visible, as was a good chunk of sky and a hardy amount of the city they were apparently in. The way the sun was faint in the sky reminded her of the sun from her planet being obscured by clouds enough to cut the brilliance of the sun without completely negating the light. But this was different. Instead of the clouds she was used to, the entire sky was a dusty tan color and the sun was still a pinprick of concentrate light, though diluted by whatever was in the atmosphere.

“There’s a layer of cloud in our atmosphere that is unchanging. Weather clouds occur under it but it never changes density.”

It reminded her of a ceiling and she wondered if the faint pinprick of a sun shining through would be enough to keep her sane while she was there. “Strange.”

“It’s what is.” His hand went to her back again and he urged her on. “You’ll get used to it.”

As they crossed the last of the walkway, she tried seeing if she could feel this sun’s light on her skin. It wasn’t till they crossed the threshold into the new hallway that she could tell. It was faint but it was there. It would be enough if she needed it.

“Boss.” They stopped, turning to look back at the person that had come up behind them. She racked her brain for a name.

“Neris,” he spoke, sounding pleased. That was it.

The person offered the neatly folded bundle. “This should be sufficient enough to get them through medical.”

“Excellent. Go help B’trel and Kors with Lady Vetalia. She should be needing a lead by this point.” The person nodded before taking off back the way they had come. She watched them leave as he shook out the bundle. “Good. This’ll do perfectly. Here. Put this on.”

It looked to be similar to a ruana with an additional hood piece. The ruana piece was massive and counted more for a blanket on her than a garment of clothing but his hands were sure as he draped it over her shoulders lopsided so that he could pull the longer side over the other shoulder. She wasn’t sure it would stay like that but he pulled the hood piece over her head. The hood itself wasn’t overly large. It kept close to her head but extended enough in front and over her face that her features would be partially obscured. The rest of the fabric of the hood piece covered her shoulders and the top of her torso. If the weight was anything to go by, the back was longer than the front and stopped somewhere mid back.

“Excessive,” she muttered.

“Effective,” he corrected. “It’s going to get cold the deeper we go for you.”

She frowned at him. “Won’t it for you too?” She distinctly remembered him shivering right along with her when they had to wait in the cold building.

That toothy grin was back. “Oh most definitely but there’ll be things for me to wear. This way we don’t have to get you something on top of hiding just what you are.”

He took the lead. The ruana was heavy around her but the while the stretch of fabric came to her ankles all the way around, it didn’t impede her movement. It also didn’t get hot. It got warm, but not hot.

That could be from the air of the space itself, though. She could feel it nipping at her face like a winter breeze and watched as he gave a full body shudder. “Seems like they’re keeping the whole place an icebox now,” he growled out, not sounding pleased.

For a stretch they walked in silence, just the two of them. But then the hallway opened into what was clearly a very popular thoroughfare and the lack of talking came from the ears that could overhear. He cut a path through the crowd with ease and it wasn’t long before people were stepping out of his way long before he reached them. She kept step behind him, staying close and keeping her gaze on his back. She can ogle at the world later.

The density of the crowd fluctuated but there was always another body on the route they walked. She wondered if there had been a path they could have taken to avoid all the people.

The hallways they walked through gradually got narrower. The final hallway they ended up in was barely wide enough to walk abreast with someone. Most coming towards them stopped and put their backs to the wall. He was bulkier than most and barely left any room for those walking the hallway to pass. Still, he would turn his torso as he passed them, giving some acknowledgement as he gave them what space he could offer as he passed.

The entrance for medical was in this narrow, seemingly endless hallway, and when he turned and stepped through the doorway, it startled her. She followed suit regardless and found it to be a hive of activity. There were good spirits but some of those there looked to be in pretty bad state, be it from injury or illness.hyrn tellran sri

“Boss.” Three bodies cut through the crowd towards him. The forward most was the one he had sent ahead to medical. Something about asking for an isolated room. “This way.”

The one in the back was the one he had sent after somebody, leaving the middle person to be that somebody.

That somebody did not look pleased. “Why did you have Tellran wake me?” the person asked, the words biting without actually snapping at him. “Vex is capable of handling anything you need assistance with.”

He reached out, placing a hand on the person’s shoulder. “Trust me, Sri. If I could have avoided getting you involved, I would have.” He focused on the one that had spoken, still following their lead through the maze of hallways. “How far, Hyrn?”

“Just a few more doors.”

“Do you still need me, Boss?” the one that had fallen into step beside her inquired.

They gained his gaze. “For now.” That gaze flickered to her. “Keep an eye on her for me for the time being.”

Had the situation not been so serious, she probably would have been annoyed but after seeing so many people and knowing just what he was protecting her from, she happily accepted whatever aid he gave her, even if she didn’t know or fully trust the person herself.

“Here, Boss,” the person leading spoke, stopping at a door.

He reached back and made sure she entered after the Sri person. The one keeping an eye on her kept pace . He entered after all of them, barring the one at the door who stayed outside and closed the door behind him.

“Take the pieces off. Let Sri check you over,” he directed at her. “I want to make sure that you’re not injured.”

She pulled the hood piece off first. There was a sharp intake of breath from the one he had told to keep an eye on her. His eyes narrowed at the person, for Sri had only narrowed their eyes. “There a problem, Tellran?”

“No, Boss,” Tellran offered, voice sure, unwavering. “Just surprised.”

She frowned at that as she pulled the ruana off, rolling it before passing it and the hood piece to him. “I take it that’s more of things I don’t really know.”

He nodded, turning his attention to Sri. “You are able to check her over, correct?”

Those narrowed eyes turned to glare at him. “Of course, but I do not like the implication of one of them here.”

She frowned at that as he shrugged. “Regardless, she’s here and needs to be checked over. She’s an asset I want to stay living if at all possible.”

Sri waved him off and approached her. Their expression softened, though it still looked severe. “Do you have a name, child?”

She glanced at him. He simply arched an eyebrow at her. “Illa,” she gave, the nickname enough for now.

“Alright, Illa. Let’s get you checked over.”

The process was rather quiet for the first of it. Sri had her strip down further to make sure the clothes weren’t hiding any injuries. Beyond a number of scraps and bruises, she was fine. Sri poked at a few bruises and put some ointment on the scraps that needed them, coaxing the details to their origin during the menial task.

She hadn’t thought much of the answers till she caught sight of him watching her as she dressed. There was a look in those eyes that, though she knew he was no danger to her, made her uneasy. She had no qualms with him knowing but to see the righteous fury on her behave was off putting. Thankfully Sri took his attention by speaking. “Outside of the expected scraps and bruises from what she’s been through, she’s got a clean bill of health.” Sri finished scribbling something down before glaring at him. “Now, why exactly is she here. You know the risk of her presence here, not to mention what else could come after her.”

He seemed to brush Sri’s concern off leaning back in his chair. “I am aware of the risks. They’re nothing compared to what we gain from her.”

Sri’s expression flattened. “You speak as if she is nothing more than an object to be used.”

“At this point, I wouldn’t care if that were the case,” she spoke to Sri. He shifted oddly in her peripheral but when she glanced at him, he had simply sat forward. “This is better than the alternative, at least.”

“Mmmm, you are not wrong,” Sri ceded before returning their gaze to him. “Is there any reason for me to remain now?”

There was a knock on the door before he could respond. Instead, he called to the door. “Come in.”

The door opened to reveal a new stranger with the one of the originals she had seen. He stood, stepping towards the door. “Surge. Did you bring it?” The new stranger grinned, holding up a slimmer version of the synthesizer she already wore. His back was to her but she could hear the grin. “Excellent. Thank you, Skra.” The one from before nodded - or bowed; she still couldn’t tell - and left, dismissed. The door closed behind the new stranger. “Fit it to her.”

The stranger approached her. Despite the instinct to move away, she stood rigid still for the new stranger. She hated how they stepped so close to her front that her nose almost brushed against their chest. The second set of hands stroked at her neck unnecessarily but before she could get a word out - before she could even react - both sets of hands were gone. The stranger was thrown across the room into the wall. It said something about his behavior that the door handle remained untouched.

He stood between her and the stranger and the violated feeling ebbed some. “Only the collar or you will regret ever answering my summons.”

The stranger was quaking, hands close to their chest, as they gave very quick, almost aggressive nods that they understood. She wondered if the stranger was mute or simply not speaking.

This time the stranger walked around her. She didn’t even feel them and while that was off putting in and of itself, he was standing before her eyes on the stranger. If the stranger did anything, he would follow through with his threat. She knew enough to know it had not been an idle threat. The old synthesizer slipped from her neck and for a moment, she panicked. But when her hand pressed into her chest where it had rested, she pressed the new one into her chest. She stared down at it, surprised.

“How does it feel?” he asked.

“Like it’s not even there.” She looked up at him, confused. “Does yours feel weightless?”

He nodded before turning a glare on the stranger. “As much as I want to kick you out, I have need for your knowledge. Go sit near Tellran.” The stranger scurried off. She didn’t miss Tellran moving away from the stranger when the stranger settled. “Illa.” She looked to him. “I need you to tell me what you know of the Dyurn.”

There was a noise from the stranger - something like a squeaky squawk - but it was forgotten as Sri stepped forward, glaring at him. “You cannot be seriously asking her about that. She wouldn’t even know what that is!”

“They have a mark on their body generally left visible that looks like a cat howling at the moon?” she clarified. He started laughing, the sound more of a bark than a genuine laugh. She grinned even as she defended herself. “What? You’re going to tell me I’m wrong?”

“Not necessarily,” Sri spoke up as he apparently lost it, sitting back down. “Though I think they prefer something more striking than a cat.”

She shrugged. “But that is the Dyurn, correct? Those marked with the howling moon.”

“Yes, that’s correct,” he assured her, coming down from his giggle fit. The grin he sent her was vicious. “Tell me everything you know about them.”

#All the Creation #Creative and Prompt Writing #phrase prompt

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salmonthestoryteller · 5 years

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Michael & Alcohol

I wasn't going to address this outside of my author notes for School of Hard Knocks, but then I saw a comment (not on Tumblr) that made me see red, so here we go.

Short Version: I don't view Michael as an alcoholic. I view his alcohol consumption as a mixture of unhealthy coping mechanisms and self-medicating for chronic pain (which is easy to misinterpret as addiction to someone from the outside looking in.)

There's a difference between being an addict and just plain bad life choices. They require different things for recovery - addiction is far more complicated. And we have already been told we have two addicts that are part of the overall RNM story arc - Rosa Ortecho (who is newly resurrected) and Jim Valenti (who we will no doubt see in flashbacks).

Any and all three (Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Medication/Self-Medication, and Addiction) can overlap in reality, and therefore in storytelling as well. And if Michael becomes an addict in season 2 due to the abrupt healing of his hand, I would be okay with it. But overall I'd much prefer a "poor life choices" story arc over a "substance addiction" plotline for Michael. It's my preference. It won't be a breaking point or anything if they choose the latter. I'll live with it. Will I be a little disappointed? NGL, I will. But I'll live with it.

Onto the long version:

I made a mention of it in previous author notes, but since it affects my opinion I'll repeat it. YMMV, but my experience has been that drinking permeates Southwest culture in a way it doesn't other places in the USA. Look, I am not pulling this out of thin air. I lived in the Southwest for almost twenty years. I have lived almost ten years in the PNW, and a mix of the remaining tenish years between the East Coast and Midwest. The best way I can think to phrase it is this - Drinking is part of the Party Culture in the other areas I have lived. Drinking is part of the Everyday Culture in the Southwest.

And when I watch Roswell New Mexico, I see that portrayed. I see it in the way there is scene after scene of social drinking. I see it in the way that alcohol is used as a coping mechanism by pretty much every character. I see it in the way that it’s casually mentioned Arturo has a tequila stash. I see it in the way drinking is not treated negatively - as I have seen it done by shows in the past - but treated as just something people do. They have their hearts broken and they have a drink. They have an argument with their friends or family and they have a drink. Their lives were just in danger, time for a drink. They get off work for the day and they - guess what? - have a drink.

This is why “Michael has a beer in X number of scenes” is not a winning argument to me. Because when someone says he has a drink in certain scenes, my literal thought is: Yeah, of course. It’s after work hours. What’s the big deal?

Then there’s the facts that we are shown his hand causes him pain in two episodes, and that we’re also shown that the aliens use acetone and alcohol in place of pretty much any type of medicine. To me, it’s an easy leap from there to Michael self-medicating. Given the extent of his injury and the lack of proper care it received, chronic pain was going to be a given as far as I’m concerned - and we’re also shown and have it verbally acknowledged that his hand has spasms, as well. 2+2 is 4 to me on that one. He’s not going to get through a day without something to relieve some of the pain.

Now here’s where the unhealthy coping mechanisms come in. Because while getting drunk to cope with bad things in our lives (or, more accurately, not deal with them for a night) is something indulged in by millions of adults worldwide and probably billions over the centuries, there is a point where it becomes unhealthy. And, yes, I do think Michael’s use of it reaches that point.

When he’s upset about things, he doesn’t talk about it - he goes to the Wild Pony and drinks so he has an excuse to start a fight. When he fights with someone - he drinks. When he's worried about someone - he drinks. I don’t think he has an addiction - I think this is all choices. Most of his drinking, at least what is not social, is after specific, upsetting events. I see his use of alcohol change during the course of the season. As these secrets that he’s been holding in are revealed, as he starts to open up to the other characters about past events, as he starts to actually deal with the things he has been using alcohol to cope with, his drinking slows down.

We’re introduced to him in the drunk tank after one of his bar brawls. He’s at the bar pretty much all day in 01x02 after losing his job and being rejected by Alex. He’s stealing whole bottles of alcohol from behind Maria’s bar after Alex dumps him and he finds out Liz knows one of them murdered Rosa in 01x04.

But.

We never see him get into a bar brawl or end up in the drunk tank after 01x01. His drinking socially with the group in 01x09 is clearly not at the same level as his non-stop day drinking in 01x02. He has one beer with Isobel when they’re speaking in his trailer in 01x10 - one beer is a far cry from the way he was drinking in 01x04. Then we get whole episodes without him drinking, such as 01x11.

Does he stop drinking altogether? No. But, aside from the fact that shitty things are still happening and he’s still self-medicating, that’s where things come back to point one for me. Drinking is Southwest culture - of course, he goes to the bar after work. Of course, he cracks open a cold beer after five. That’s pretty much par for the course in day to day life in a small southwestern town.

Michael drinks in 10 episodes, yes. You know what?

Liz drinks in 9 episodes.

Maria is only in 10 episodes and drinks in 6.

Michael being singled out for being an alcoholic, not by fandom but by canon, would irritate me. The main character went to college and has a white collar job, so she can drink in ¾ of the episodes, including in the middle of the day, and it means nothing. Isobel is rich and privileged so she can literally steal Michael's own acetone infused drink, and have countless bottles of empty acetone lying around her house, but she's good. However, the blue-collar worker with the poor background is an addict because we put a drink in his hand for 10 episodes, even though 7 of them are related to trauma and heartbreak. Yeah, I pretty much hate it.

The fact that shows always choose the "wrong side of the tracks" character to be the addict reeks of class prejudice to me. It’s a negative stereotype. They're the “lower class” character, therefore they're an alcoholic. Like addiction doesn't occur in all social statuses or something.

There are posts out there that literally dismiss Michael’s character as an “Unemployed Drunk”. Sorry, you can't sell me on the notion that classism isn’t involved in that interpretation of his character. Not when Liz is unemployed more times than Michael is and drinks almost as much.

So - yes - I would be annoyed by them choosing an addiction story arc for Michael. Choosing the only “lower social status” character to be the addict when you have a whole cast of other characters to choose from? I am very against that. Is it a deal breaker? No, I've put up with far worse things in shows than a single arc I don’t appreciate. But it is how I feel.

People have a variety of coping mechanisms, unhealthy and healthy. Michael being able to let go of an unhealthy coping mechanism by learning to open up to others is my preferred version of the plot. Especially if we get to see him turn to a healthy coping mechanism, like playing music again. As much as I hate the way his hand was healed against his will, no longer being in pain meaning he no longer needs alcohol or acetone to assist him through the day is also my preference. And I feel both are capable of being interpreted by canon events just as easily as an addiction.

I do feel the abrupt healing of his hand could lead to an addiction. He’s used to being in pain, his body is used to having a certain level of acetone/alcohol in it because of the injury. That suddenly disappearing could really mess up his system. And they could also use it to address that Max healed him without his consent, which would psychologically affect him on top of the physical effects. But that’s really the only addiction story arc for him that I would truly be fully okay with.

#roswell new mexico #michael guerin #meta #headcanons #character thoughts

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superfreakerz · 5 years

Text

TDDUP 29

"Til Death Do Us Part"

Rated M for smut and heavy themes.

Reincarnation/Immortality AU

Summary: There are immortals and there are those who reincarnate, but it's best to keep these things hidden. Lucy is attending college and meets Natsu, a boy with pink hair, a mischievous grin, and a body that never ages.

Read earlier chapters on FF.net

Chapter 29

The Immortals

The car ride home was insufferable. Lucy could feel Gajeel's glare piercing the back of her head, Erza chose to sit in between her and Natsu- which she could only assume was to keep him away from her- and nobody had said a single word since the night before. Even the music that Gray so graciously played in hopes of lightening the mood did nothing to ease the tension. The negative aura was thick, and it felt like she was being suffocated with everyone's blatant stares.

All she had to do was show them the locket. Inside was proof that she wasn't just twenty years old. Still, part of her wondered if that was going to be good enough for them. Technically, she was still a mortal, and if Gajeel's dirty looks were enough to go off of, they had some pretty bad run-ins with mortals who knew of their secret.

A sigh slipped past Lucy's lips. All she wanted was to go on a ski trip with her friends. Couldn't she just have one day without some bad luck interfering with her plans?

Turning her head, she glanced past Erza to look at Natsu. As if feeling her stare, he turned towards her and gave her a show-stopping grin that somehow managed to chip away at her anxiety.

Her lips curled into a grin. At least there was one good thing that happened on the trip. The secrets that strained their relationship were now out in the open. She could finally be her true self around people. That is, being a girl who reincarnates. She didn't have to hold back on details, she didn't have to lie, and she didn't have to keep her lives straight anymore.

She was sure the same went for Natsu. Sure, he had a group of friends that shared his immortality, but he must've felt the same way about her. Now, he didn't have to lie to her about anything.

Everything felt so easy now.

Or at least it should have if it weren't for her overly skeptical friends.

Seriously, they were immortals for god's sake! Their bodies healed at abnormal rates and they never aged. Why was it so weird that she reincarnated? When they got to her apartment, she was going to make sure to rub it in their sorry faces and demand an apology. It was the least they could do after putting her through the wringer.

Reaching Lucy's apartment, the group stretched their legs outside. After being trapped in the silent car for the past four hours, they were relieved to finally be free of its confines.

"I'll go grab the locket and prove how ridiculous you guys are being," Lucy said, heading to the steps to her apartment when Gajeel blocked her path.

"Oi, remember our deal?" he asked, peering down at her. "We go together. Gotta make sure you ain't cheating."

"How in the world could I cheat? This isn't some contest, you know?"

"You could photoshop it or something!"

"How would I even have time to do that?"

"Doesn't matter! We're all comin' with you!"

Lucy rolled her eyes. Grabbing her suitcase out of the trunk, she rolled it behind her as she walked to her apartment, making sure to run over Gajeel's toes in the process.

"Fine. Come on then," she said. She couldn't deny that her feelings were hurt. After all they'd been through, they still couldn't trust her? The only thing that made her feel better was knowing that Natsu believed her, even without needing to see the proof that lied within her locket.

Waiting for everyone to finish putting their luggage aside, Lucy headed towards the bathroom. The group followed closely behind as if they were little ducklings trailing after their mother.

"The bathroom's small, so some of you might want to stand out in the hall," Lucy suggested.

"Nonsense," Erza replied. "We can all huddle together."

Lucy sighed as the whole group squeezed themselves into the bathroom with her. The seven huddled together, their elbows poking into each other while Lucy stood a foot away by the tub. Bending over, she swiftly threw open the drawer, slamming it into Gajeel's shin. The boy jumped away with a yelp.

"Oops," she said with a shrug.

Gajeel rubbed the sore spot, glaring at the blonde. "Didja really hafta do that?"

"You deserved it. In fact, if you ask me, all of you deserve it. Other than Natsu, of course."

Natsu grinned. "I've got your back, Luce! Now hurry up and show us what's in the locket! I've been dying to know for weeks!"

Lucy smiled at him. Grabbing the tampon box, she dumped it out into the drawer. Sure enough, the locket fell out with a thud.

"So that's where you hid it!" Natsu exclaimed. He tried to push everyone out of his way so he could get a closer look, but with how cramped the bathroom was, he was stuck in place. "Wait, but I checked there for other evidence and there wasn't anything in there!"

"Wait, you checked for evidence? When? And for what?"

"While you were visitin' your old man. I kinda thought that you were an immortal too, so I looked through all your stuff for any clues. I didn't find anything!"

"Oh. That's because the only hard proof that I keep with me is this locket," Lucy explained, dangling it in the air. "I don't have access to anything else."

Before she could say another word, Gajeel snatched the necklace out of her hand.

"How is this supposed to prove anything?" he asked, his crimson eyes piercing hers.

"Open it, idiot," Lucy answered, crossing her arms over her chest expectantly.

Everyone peered over Gajeel's shoulders, watching as he opened the locket to reveal a black-and-white picture of Lucy between an older couple.

"I don't get it," Gray said.

Lucy sighed, grabbing the necklace from Gajeel's hand and carefully removing the photo. Unfolding its edges, she handed it back to the boy. "Look at the date at the corner."

Natsu's eyes widened as he read the date. It was over sixty years ago.

"Ha! I toldja she wasn't lying!" he exclaimed, slapping Gajeel upside the head.

"This doesn't prove anything!" the other boy barked. "This coulda been photoshopped!"

"When would she have photoshopped it, dumbass?" Gray asked. Somehow during their time in the bathroom, he had ended up shirtless.

"Gray's right," Levy chimed in. "There would've been no reason for Lu-chan to photoshop a fake date onto it when she didn't know about us until yesterday."

Juvia shrugged. "Juvia believed her last night, so this doesn't change anything."

"You did?" Lucy asked, her mouth parting.

"Yes. Considering Juvia is an immortal, it isn't impossible for other kinds of beings to exist."

"Oh my god, yes! Thank you for saying that, Juvia! Seriously, the rest of you are all just a bunch of hypocrites!"

"Yeah!" Natsu agreed, pushing past the others so that he could stand by Lucy. "You guys shoulda trusted her!"

Gajeel scoffed, crossing his arms over his burly chest. "I still don't believe it."

"Seriously?" Lucy asked with a groan. "You need more proof? Fine. Follow me." Slipping through the group, she led the way to the dining room where her laptop rested on the table. Opening up a searching browser, she started to type her name.

"I already looked you up," Gajeel said. "I didn't find anything that proves you reincarnate."

"That's because you were looking up the wrong name. My first name stays the same whenever I am reborn, but I am always born into a new family, so my last name changes. You looked up Lucy Heartfilia. The first name I went by was Lucy Ashley."

Pressing enter, the page was reloaded with multiple links. Most of them led to the social medias of other girls that went by the same name. Muttering incentives to herself, Lucy narrowed the search with details of her death and tried again. This time, a link to her obituary popped up. Clicking it, she was led to a page that showed some of her pictures, a brief description of her life, and an explanation of how she died. In the back of her head, she noted how strange it felt reading about her own death, but at the moment, she was too spiteful to care.

"Holy fuck," Gray breathed out, pulling a chair out next to Lucy.

"So it is true," Erza added, her eyes wide as she cupped her chin.

"That's what I've been telling you guys," Lucy said, standing from her seat so that she could face all of them with a glare. "But you didn't believe me."

"I apologize Lucy, but can you really blame us?"

"Yes! I can! I believed you guys about your immortality right away!"

"Yes, but you were shown the facts first. It was impossible to deny it when you saw Natsu's body healing on its own. For us, we didn't see any proof that you reincarnate. We never believed in reincarnation before. It was just awfully convenient timing to confess such a thing, so it was easier to believe that you would say whatever you had to so that you could still be with Natsu."

Lucy crossed her arms, her glare never wavering. "Okay, yes. I can agree with you on that. I did see the proof, and maybe I wouldn't have believed that you guys were immortal if I hadn't seen Natsu's body regenerating. But did you guys have to treat me like crap because of it?"

Erza glued her gaze to the floor with a frown. "No. And we shouldn't have treated you like that. I am truly sorry for what we said last night."

"I am too," Levy added, wringing her hands together. "We've been best friends for a long time, I shouldn't have dismissed you so quickly, especially when you've been nothing but kind to me. I was a bad friend."

"Same goes for me and Jellal," Gray said.

"Juvia should've stuck up for you," the other blue-headed girl chimed in. "Juvia believed you, but she was scared of saying something last night."

Lucy glanced towards Gajeel expectantly. Part of her expected him to be stubborn and refuse to apologize. Instead, he rubbed the back of his head awkwardly. What he did next was surprising.

"Yeah, I'm sorry too," the boy said. "Look, there's nothin' I can say that's gonna change how I acted. Truth is, I've had some bad experiences with mortals who found out that I'm immortal- a lot of us have. I just wanna keep Levy safe. Guess I got a lil' carried away."

"A little?" Lucy asked, narrowing her eyes at him. "I'm glad you guys are apologizing and all, but that doesn't change anything. You guys made me feel horrible last night, and I warned you before that I wasn't going to be so quick to forgive you."

"Yeah, I know. So let us make it up to you."

"How?" Lucy asked, arching a brow.

Gajeel's face was serious as answered, "We'll take you to Fairy Tail."

The widening gazes of everyone else in the group went unnoticed by Lucy as she threw her arms in the air.

"You think taking me out for some food and drinks is going to make it up to me?" she asked incredulously. "That's the dumbest-"

"Fairy Tail isn't just a pub. It's home of the immortals. Taking you there could get us in a lot of trouble."

"Gajeel!" Erza hissed.

The boy turned to face her with a shrug. "We were gonna take her to see Makarov anyways if she was tellin' the truth. Why not bring her to Fairy Tail? We can make it up to her by telling her everything. There's no better way of showin' her that we trust her now."

Lucy glanced at Natsu, who grinned back at her with a nod. She couldn't deny that her curiosity was more than piqued. She finally knew where they lived! She just couldn't believe that she'd been there a million times without knowing.

"I can get on board with that idea," Lucy said. She knew that it was a big risk to them, so she knew it was a big deal and that they were really trying to make it up to her. "If you take me there, I will agree to put all of this behind us."

Erza glanced at the others to make sure they were on board. Receiving a bunch of nods and shrugs, she turned back towards Lucy.

"Alright," the redhead stated. "We will take you there. Just keep in mind that there are other immortals who might be wary of you. They will all be surprised to see you."

"Wait, there's more of you?" Lucy asked, her mouth hanging open.

"Yes. Fairy Tail is an organization built to support immortals. The pub is a way to bring in money while the basement houses all of us."

"That's so cool!"

"I can't wait to show you to everybody!" Natsu exclaimed, throwing an arm around the girl's shoulders. "You gotta try Mira's cooking!"

Lucy arched a brow. She remembered that name. "Mira? Isn't that the friend who moved away?"

"Oh, yeah! I forgot I sorta told you about her! Truth is, we aren't supposed to bring up anyone who lives in the basement, but it just kinda slipped out that one time. So then we had to tell you that she was our friend who moved away, but she's really living in the basement!"

"Wait, why is she living in the basement?"

"It's a long story," Levy said. "We'll tell you all about it when we get to Fairy Tail."

"Prepare to get groped," Gray added, leading the way to the door.

Lucy covered her breasts with her arms. "Groped!?"

"He means Cana," Natsu explained while she locked her door behind them. "She has a thing for big boobs. And yours are huge."

Growing red in the face, Lucy slapped the boy upside the head. "Natsu! You can't just say things like that!"

"Ow! But it's true!"

That got him another slap.

Arriving at Fairy Tail, Lucy's stomach was doing flips. Her fingers wiggled at her sides as she stepped inside the pub, antsy at meeting the rest of the immortals. Following the others behind the counter into an area that was restricted to the public, she watched them head down a flight of narrow steps. Not wanting to get lost, she trailed closely behind.

Each step made her stomach churn. When they reached the bottom of the staircase, she took a deep breath to calm her nerves.

The steps led to what looked like a lobby. There were multiple sofas, tables and chairs, and even entertainment centers. There was also a bar, where a stunning woman was drying off glasses. Her hair was snow white and fell in waves, her eyes a brilliant shade of blue. She turned to greet them, but the words died in her throat the moment she laid eyes on Lucy. The glass in her hands dropped to the floor, shattering and catching the attention of everyone else around.

There was another girl slouched in one of the stools by the bar. Her hair was also wavy, but it was a relaxing shade of brown. She was clad in a pair of khakis and a bikini top, clutching a barrel to her chest. Her cheeks were dusted pink, clueing Lucy into what could possibly be in the barrel.

At one of the entertainment centers sat a man even larger and more muscular than Gajeel. His hair was blonde, and he had a scar running down one of his eyes. Over his ears were two large headphones with spikes protruding from the sides. Surrounding him was a man with long green hair, a scantily dressed woman with glasses, and a man wearing the strangest outfit Lucy had ever seen before.

All of them had their eyes on her, and it was clear that her presence was unexpected, if not unwelcomed.

"Erza," the blonde man called out, jumping to his feet. "Who is this?"

The redhead gnawed on her lower lip. Well, there was no use in lying. "This is Lucy."

"Wait, Lucy? As in the Lucy?" the silver-haired girl behind the bar asked. A shaky hand flew up to her mouth. "You guys brought a mortal into the basement?"

"What the hell are you guys thinking?" the brunette asked, setting aside her barrel as she glared at them.

"It's a long story," Erza answered. "We need to speak to Master. Is he in his office?"

The brunette nodded. "Good luck. Seems to me you've got a death wish."

Erza turned back to the group. "I will go let Master know that we need to speak to him. Wait here and do not move. Understood?"

Natsu flinched under the menacing stare she directed at him. "A-Aye!"

"Good. I will return shortly."

Lucy kept her eyes on the ground. Perhaps they should've given the others a heads-up that she was coming. Now, she felt unwelcomed. Not that she could really blame the others. She wouldn't be too happy either if some stranger just let themselves into her home.

"Oi, mortal," a voice called out. Lifting her gaze, Lucy saw the brunette waving her over. "C'mere. Have a drink."

"O-Oh, I wouldn't want to be a bother," she replied, waving her hands in front of her face.

"Just have a drink already. I'm sure you've gotta feel awkward with all this."

Natsu nodded at her, gesturing for her to go mingle with the other immortals. Swallowing thickly, she took the empty seat beside the brunette while Natsu sat on the other side of her. At least he was there to keep her company.

"The name's Cana," the other girl said, pointing at herself. "Nice to meetcha, Lucy. We've heard a shit ton about you. Oi, Natsu, you're right! She does have ginormous knockers!"

"Toldja!" the boy replied. The two shared a high-five behind the blonde's back while she because a blushing mess.

"I-It's nice to meet you too," Lucy said. "So you are an immortal too?"

"Yep. Have been longer than most of these guys."

"Really? I didn't know that some of you could be immortals longer than others."

"Oh yeah. Immortality is way more of a complicated bitch than most people would think."

So many questions floated around in Lucy's mind. She had no idea how immortality worked. Were people born with it? Did it run in their genes? Was there any sort of limit to their immortality? Opening her mouth to ask one of her many questions, the girl was cut off as Erza entered the room.

"Master will see us now," she said.

"What did you tell him?" Jellal asked.

"I told him that there was someone here to see him. I did, however, leave out the fact that she is a mortal. I figured it would be best to explain it all together."

Lucy swallowed thickly. "I'm scared of meeting this Master person."

"Don't be," Natsu replied, nudging her gently in hopes of alleviating some of her anxiety. "Gramps is awesome! And you're a girl, so he'll definitely go easier on you. If anything, he'll just try to kill me for bringing you."

"Yes, because that definitely makes me feel better."

"Good! Let's go, Luce!"

Cana watched as Natsu dragged the mortal away by the wrist. The rest of the group followed behind them.

"You okay, Mira?" Cana asked, her gaze tearing away from the hallway where the others went in order to face the other girl. A frown immediately graced her face as she found tears welled in the blue orbs of her close friend.

Mira's shaky hand flew up to her chest, her eyes wide and glazed over with hot tears. Her breathing was heavy and ragged as she hyperventilated.

"Y-Yeah, I'm fine," she breathed out, rubbing her neck. "I-I was just a little surprised, but I'm fine."

Cana frowned, but she didn't bother arguing with the other girl. All she knew was that there had better been a damn good reason why Natsu and the others brought a mortal into their safe haven.

Lucy was a fumbling mess by the time they reached the door to what she assumed was Master's office. Natsu's warm hand slid into hers, lacing their fingers together and giving her hand a gentle squeeze, silently telling her that it was going to be okay. She decided to take his word for it.

Following Erza and the others, Lucy's eyes immediately landed on the tiny, elderly man that sat at a desk that was taller than him. The top of his head was bald, but the sides sported patches of silver hair. He had a white goatee and a fluffy white coat. At the sight of her, he cocked his head to the side.

"Hello, my name is Makarov" the man greeted, jumping onto his desk so that he could stand at the same height as her. "I heard that someone wanted to see me. That must be you."

"Umm, yes," Lucy replied, shaking his hand.

"You must be an immortal. Let me get some paperwork started and we can get you all situated to join our family!"

"Oh- uhh- I'm actually not an immortal."

"Oh, you must be a government official affiliated with immortals."

"Actually, I'm just a friend of these guys. My name is Lucy."

Makarov halted his movements, the uncapped pen in his hand dropping onto the desk and tainting some of the documents.

"I'm sorry, come again? I don't believe I heard you right the first time. Pardon my bad hearing, it comes with the old age," he said, cupping his hand around his ear.

"Umm, Master, this is Lucy. Natsu's girlfriend and our friend from school," Erza explained.

The man whipped his head towards Erza. "What!? Erza! What are you thinking bringing an outsider here!? You know better than that! Oh no. The school will probably have to be shut down, along with Fairy Tail. We'll all have to relocate and who knows what will happen to-"

"Lucy's not just some outsider," Natsu interrupted. "She's different than the other mortals!"

"Natsu, I understand she's your girlfriend, but that doesn't mean you can bring her here!"

"No, not just that! Tell him, Lucy!"

Lucy swallowed thickly. Her gaze was pointed at the desk as she was too afraid to meet the gaze of the older man who- despite his kind smile- had an air of authority to him that frightened her.

"Umm, I uhh, I…" she started, the words dying in her throat due to her nerves.

"Spit it out, dear," Makarov said. "I have to know what made these brats think it was acceptable bringing you here."

"…The truth is, I reincarnate every time I die."

Makarov's eyes went wide, his jaw slack.

"I know it's hard to believe," Gajeel began, "but she's got proof! She has a picture of herself from sixty years ago, and there are obituaries written about her past lives!"

"It's true," Erza chimed in, hoping to calm the monster that resided in the older man. He was a usually kind man, but if angered enough, well… That wasn't something anyone wanted to see. "I've seen the proof myself."

"I see…" Makarov said, stroking his beard. "That is why you brought her here. To ask questions about her situation."

"Oh, no," Lucy replied, shaking her head. "I came to learn more about Natsu and the others."

Natsu cocked his head to the side as he took another step closer to Makarov. "Wait a sec. You aren't as surprised as I thought you'd be. Gramps, do you know something about reincarnation?"

Makarov's face was serious as he mulled over the question. With a sigh, he nodded. "Yes. I am familiar with some of the history of reincarnation."

Lucy's hands went limp at her sides, her mouth trembling as she choked out, "W-Wait, what?"

She had gone there to learn about immortality, but there stood a man with the truth about herself. For lifetimes she had tried researching about reincarnation, only to come up with people's theories and misconceptions as to what it would be like. Hell, in her three lifetimes of searching, she had only found one other person in the world who shared her experience. And now she was finally going to learn about the curse that haunted her?

Natsu glanced over to Lucy. Her eyes were wide with surprise as she swayed. Looping an arm around her waist, he kept her steady.

Makarov's stare was serious as he asked, "Would you like to know more about reincarnation? The history is tied to immortality."

Natsu whipped his head towards Makarov. "It is? Then why haven't we heard about it before?"

The old man frowned, fiddling with his coat. "Lucy, please have a seat. I will do my best to explain." The girl nodded slowly, moving to sit in the chair that was in front of the desk. Only once she did, Makarov continued, "First, I shall start off by saying that I am a mortal, and everything that I tell you has happened long before I was born. In fact, it happened before all of us were born."

"Even longer than me?" Gray asked, having been the oldest immortal in the room.

"Yes. It was four hundred years ago. Reincarnation is much like immortality. Nobody can control it, and it isn't passed down through genes. It is much rarer than immortality, however. Long ago, there was an immortal- or I suppose I should say there is an immortal since he is still roaming the world somewhere. He is one of the oldest known immortals in the world. I have heard of him through Mavis herself."

"Who is Mavis?" Lucy asked.

"She is also one of the first to discover her immortality. She is also founder of Fairy Tail. She was around at the time it happened."

"It?" she repeated, cocking her head to the side. "What happened?"

Makarov's frown deepened. "A massacre. Around four hundred years ago, the first reincarnation was discovered. He is known as the Spirit King because of how many 'souls' he has had since he has died and been reborn numerous times. It was four hundred years ago when he was reborn for the first time. Immortals had already been around back then, and apparently he was familiar with one. His friend brought him to meet some other immortals, as it was such a strange finding. However…"

"What? What is it?"

"Among one of the immortals was a man named Acnologia. As you know, immortality isn't passed down through genes. It is completely arbitrary on who becomes an immortal. Acnologia had a daughter named Sonya. Because of his immortality, he was forced to watch his daughter grow up before his eyes and eventually die while he had to keep living without her. Because of this, he hated his immortality. All he wanted was to die so that he can be reunited with his daughter in the afterlife."

Makarov forced himself to meet Lucy's inquisitive gaze as he continued, "When he found out that there was a man who had his wish of dying and resented it, it set something off inside of him. He followed the Spirit King that night, sneaking up from behind him and killing him."

A gasp slipped past Lucy's lips, her hands flying to cover her mouth. "B-But it wasn't his fault that he can reincarnate!"

"I know. But in Acnologia's eyes, the Spirit King's existence was a great injustice. He gathered up some immortal followers with the same mindset and together they sought out those who could reincarnate. They massacred them all, searching for them everywhere across the globe and murdering them over and over again."

Tears ran down Lucy's cheeks as she imagined what it was like to constantly be reborn and murdered by such monsters. Not only were they cursed with reincarnation, they were also being hunted every life. Then it hit her.

"W-Wait…" Lucy began, her head spinning. "Immortals never die, which means…"

"Yes," Makarov said with a nod, his frown deepening. "They are all still alive, including Acnologia."

"B-But what if he finds out about me!" Lucy cried, glancing towards Natsu. Her breaths were staggered, her heart beating a mile per minute. "I-I don't want to be hunted down!"

Natsu smoothed a hand over her head, bringing the girl in for a hug as he tried to soothe her.

"Don't worry," he said, wiping away her tears. "I'm not gonna let that happen to you."

Lucy covered her mouth with her hand, trying to quiet her sobs.

"Natsu is right, you do not need to worry," Makarov said. "After the massacre, many of the immortals who were in on the killings were locked up. The immortals have a connection to high officials in the government thanks to Mavis. The officials are why organizations like Fairy Tail exist. They locked up most of the murderers. Acnologia and a few others did manage to escape, but the odds of him finding you are slim to none."

Lucy nodded slowly, but it didn't make her fear go away. Sure, maybe he wouldn't kill her in this lifetime, but what about the next one? Or the one after that? Acnologia was immortal and she reincarnated, he had all the time in the world to find her.

Natsu could feel Lucy shaking in his arms. Gently grabbing her face, he forced her to face him.

"I promise I'll protect you, Lucy," he said, his face serious. "I won't let anyone hurt you."

"Neither will we," Gray chimed in, ruffling the blonde's hair. "You're one of us now."

Lucy smiled at her friends, starting to regain some of her composure. "Thanks, guys."

"Lucy," Makarov started, "would you like to meet others like you?"

The girl whipped her head towards the man. "R-Really? You know more people like me?"

"Yes. Though, perhaps I shouldn't say meet. You've already met them before, actually. You all have."

"Wait, what?" Natsu asked. "Who?"

"A handful of professors at Fairy Tail are reincarnations. Aquarius, Scorpio, and Capricorn, you've had them this quarter, correct? They all reincarnate."

"What!? How come you didn't tell us this!?"

"After the massacre, the existence of reincarnations was swept under the rug and kept a secret from later immortals in case they had the same mindset as Acnologia. When Mavis first stumbled upon Aquarius and found out the truth about her, she wanted to make sure that she had a place to turn to in the world. So, she invited her, along with other reincarnations, to teach at the University whenever they are at an old enough age to return."

Lucy gawked. Finally, everything was starting to make sense. Her talk with Aquarius, why Capricorn was so interested in her story about reincarnation, everything. They were like her.

"Wait, but how did they know about me?" Lucy asked.

"What do you mean?"

"I think they know that I reincarnate. How did they find out?"

"I am unsure. Perhaps you can ask Aquarius when the new term starts."

Lucy nodded. She would definitely have to do that. But for now, all she wanted was to sleep. After the rollercoaster of a day she had, she was left winded.

"I-I think I need to be alone for a little bit," she said. "I should go home."

"Feel free to come down to the basement any time," Makarov replied.

Thanking him for everything, Lucy followed the others back to the lobby. She noted that the other immortals were gone.

"I'll walk you home," Natsu said.

"Thanks," Lucy replied. Saying goodbye to her friends, she followed Natsu up the stairs and back to the pub. Stepping outside the grand doors of Fairy Tail, she turned back and admired the building. This whole time, it had been the home of her friends, and she never even knew it. It was also home to other immortals, who she planned on getting closer to.

Though, that could wait until tomorrow.

#fairy tail #nalu #lucy heartfilia #natsu dragneel #ftfanficton #nalu fanfiction #tddup #til death do us part #super writes

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