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mythomagically-delicious · 3 years

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Okay so in a better world au ford and fiddleford created the Institute and made up, right? What happened to stan?

The point of that first post about "the twist" was this: what if Stan and Ford switched bodies and stans was sent into the portal with ford inside, and Stan in Ford's body remained behind. Stan immediately tries everything to turn it back on, to no avail. He went thru hundreds of papers and notes trying to understand ANYTHING and he got some general idea that ford had had a research partner out here who knew things- knew ford, knew the portal, he could help!

Stan in Ford's body races to town instead of staying isolated in the cabin for four weeks, and finds fiddleford. Fiddleford looks confused and stranger than the notes suggested but it matches up. He begs fiddleford to help him, and despite the falling out fiddleford has enough fondness for his old friend remaining that he is swayed. He doesn't get his full mind erased by the society bc he isn't abandoned fully and left wandering the town to be targeted by blind Ivan in his power grab.

Fiddleford and Stan (in Ford's body) go back to the shack and stan starts to take him to the basement when fidds starts freaking out, yelling and crying about the world-shattering consequences. About the things he saw, rhe demon, and more. Stan calms him down, takes him back upstairs. He's frustrated to high heaven and back but he knows he could never do this alone.

(He hasn't told fiddleford who he really is. Yet. He will, he just needs some help first. Who would help a loser like stan? But ford has a friend, he can be ford for a little bit to work the angle and get his brother back.)

It takes time. Way too much time, for Stan, but fiddleford slowly recovers enough of his sanity and calms his nerves enough to go down to the basement and not freak out. Stan admits to anything fiddleford asks him about, anything he saw from Ford's notes and makes it convincing that he's asking for a second chance. Maybe they could rebuild it, better? Without demon assistance?

Fiddleford helps tear it to shreds. They mark every part as they dismantle it and fiddleford searches for the reasons it opened a portal to nightmares. He doesn't follow schematics blindly, any more, no more blind trust to his friend. But he does help. Stan is learning on the job. He isn't convincing in the slightest of being a genius but fiddleford is too frazzled to notice. He's got his own shit going on.

They tear it down. Stan is afraid and angry and desperate but he holds his shit together. Fiddleford regains more of himself as they go. Stan learns more about ford and fiddlefords time together as fiddleford recovers memories and tells them to Stan. Stan makes his own notes, of how to Be Stanford Pines.

In time, they get to a stable place of living in the shack together, Stan trying to learn as much as he can about this science shit, pretending he was hit by the memory gun into forgetting himself when fiddleford questions it. Fidds is afraid to go confront the society, and can't remember where they are anyway. Stan doesn't care about it as long as his cover isn't blown. He hasn't told fiddleford yet. He will! But not yet.

They begin to plan a new, stable trans-dimensional vortex. It takes a whole hell of a lot, but they slowly build it anew. Still in the cursed basement, not even a skeleton of the old machine left after they destroyed it the first time.

Stan is flying less by the seat of his pants. Taking a leaf from Ford's book and staying up to radically terrible hours of the night studying and trying to understand all the science and math shit to make this work, to keep stringing fiddleford into helping him. Fidds takes time for his own projects and Stan doesn't bug him about it, saying if it makes money to split it, and when fiddleford hits a big invention that also happens to patent well and spread? They use the money to help their new portal.

It takes ten years to do it, but they recreate the portal, this time to a place they can control thru careful calibration. Fiddleford writes a scientific paper about it, publishes it with ford as a co-author, and they get international renown. Stan knows how to work a crowd and he uses their leverage to get people invested in investing, so to speak. It's not cheap to fund the energy required to turn it on, so they expand the building and create the Institute of Oddology, given enough time and building and circumstances lining up just right.

Fiddleford runs the teams and the day to day stuff. Stan handles finances and resource allocation and scheduling tours, interested parties, rivals, anything business side. He and fiddleford go to the first stable dimension together , though, and Stan uses all of the science gizmos at their disposal to search for ford while they're there.

He doesn't find him. He still hasn't told fiddleford. Its been too long at this point, right? What if he takes the money and fame and everything and kicks Stan out for lying? He mostly rode fiddlefords genius to get here, there's no way he'd not be mad about this.

They go to many dimensions. Stan takes samples and learns scientific process thru osmosis over the years and contributes to publishibg written works to the greater scientific community.

He looks for Ford. He finds nothing. He tells no one his true purpose for everything he's achieved to that point. He lies and wears Ford's face and shakes hands and is a sham.

One day Fiddleford races to his office, frantic and eyes wide and hands shaking slightly like Stan hasnt seen in years. It's been 30 years since ford was lost to the portal. And fiddleford comes to him and says there's a parallel you, Stanford, in conference room B, we need to send him on his way immediately, you remember what happened to Ernie on that trip 8 years back?

And Stan ignores this, heart pounding, and knocks fiddleford out, locking him in the office, racing to conference room B.

He bursts in, and sees a version of his brother. One he doesnt see in the mirror. A real Stanford Pines, 30 years older than the kids they were when they fought beside the portal. Apparently no universe is fair, if ford ends up inside in multiple dimensions.

Stan is speechless. The portal!ford is on the defensive, but interest is clear in his face. He keeps his distance, cognizant of parallel!fiddlefords warning from before. Of counterparts meeting in a dimension of origin. Annihilation.

Stan cries. Ford looks shocked to see his own self in such a state. He doesn't know what to do. Stan surges forward for a hug and Ford tries to dodge, afraid of the consequences. Stan traps his hands to his sides and sobs on Ford's mysterious black coat, calling him brother. Ford's inner alarm bells go off even as he clenches his eyes shut against the incoming total destruction.

When nothing happens except for a wet patch to grow on Ford's clothes, he opens his eyes and studies himself. They look scarily similar, truth be told. His counterpart heartier than he, an interdimensional fugitive. That makes sense. Parallel ford is apologizing into his jacket and clutching him hard enough to leave bruises.

Ford dodges out of the grapple his counterpart has him in. He demands answers in a clipped tone. Stan does his best to reign it back in as he confesses what transpired in this dimension to this dimension traveling ford. How he hopes his own brother, trapped in stans body, is still out there, still surviving, still where Stan can find him.

Ford starts a fight. Stan defends himself but it gets physical and he doesn't have the same instincts to take down he did when he was younger. He remembers the last fight he had with his brother, and doesn't want that to happen again.

Fiddleford eventually gets free of the office and runs in to see parallel ford beating the shit out of his ford. He stuns ford with a device on his belt and brings things back to some semblance of order, getting a first aid kit out to tend to them both. P!Ford's knuckles, mainly, and stans face.

The truth comes out, ugly and stained and fiddleford forgives Stan immediately. He turns to parallel ford and helps him out of the room, promising help with his weapon and more, later.

Stan is left with the knowledge that all these years later, no matter what he does, his brother hates him.

Fiddleford helps ford with his weapon. If ford can destroy bill cipher, more dimensions will open up to be explored. If his and stans ford is still alive out there, they'll have a better shot if Bill is out of the picture. They send parallel!ford off a few days later. Fiddleford goes to Stan that night and calls him by a name that hasn't been spoken in 30 years. Stan can barely look at him. Fiddleford gives him time and space, but tells him he understands.

A month and a half later, a ripple is felt thru thousands of dimensions at once, the death of Bill cipher in every iteration is making its way thru the multiverse. Celebrations are happening as people cheer and laud thr name of the one who saved them, spread in a cosmic understanding by some greater power. Stanley Pines, shatterer of Bill Cipher.

4 years later, they find Ford. Ford in Stans body is old, ragged. He's missing an eye and an arm and so much more of who he used to be. But they bring him home. He doesn't want to switch bodies back.

Stan feels guilt eat at him, but ford is different than the other traveler they'd met. He's more settled. He thanks Stan for finding him. Doesn't blame him for how long it took. Didn't think he'd be come for anyway.

It's strange and rocky but slowly strides are made to bridge the gap of decades and become people they want to be, again. Brothers, friends, explorers. They never body swap again, but they settle into themselves and own who they are.

#stanley and stanford #fiddleford mcgucket #parallel ford #a better world au #but with a twist #gravity falls #flash fic #i wrote this on my phone #electron carpet #body swap au

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blueprint-han · 3 years

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stay tonight — bang chan.

↪ why, you must be in love, then. oh trust me, i know.

— new years’ with Chan is spent confessing known feelings to each other and getting back at him for what he did to you on your first date.

pairing: chan x (gn) reader [while this was written with a fem reader in mind, i do think this can be read with a gender neutral perspective]

genre: fluff.

⇥ warnings: nothing at all! a little bit of kissing here and there, but this is completely sfw.

word count: 2.6 K

type: drabble.

⇥ disclaimer: this fiction does not represent the activities of the real Bang Chan, nor is associated with JYPE in any form. Events are pure fiction. ♡

song: this was inspired by Stay Tonight by Chungha! Highly recommend listening to it when reading this fic <3

↯ note: This is actually shit™ because I was very writers blocky with this fic and had to rewrite it many times to develop a decent plot </3 still, hope you have a lovely Christmas! 🥰 Happy reading <3 this isn’t very well edited so please excuse any errors <//3 ⇥ dawn.☀️

“You know you’re not supposed to be sitting there, right?”

You straighten up and turn around at the familiar sound that rings through your ears, content when it’s exactly who you wish to see standing there. The smile exchanged between the both of you is simple, sweet and relaxing as you get off where you’re seated on the compound of the building. Walking towards him, your hands go around his waist and he chuckles in response. “Hey.”

“Hey.” You revert back. “I was just about to call you.”

Chan quirks a brow at you, silently grabbing your hand and leading you to the two random chairs placed at a convenient angle — one where you can both bask in each other’s presence and do some stargazing at the same time.

“Why? Did you miss me that much?” His tone is very cocky at the moment, and it makes you want to kiss that stupid grin off his lips. Sadly, he knows you well enough to know that such comments only fluster you when spoken — and that’s exactly what happens — you feel yourself go warm from the inside, a dizzy expression taking over your face as you sit next to him.

Love. The first time you’d encountered the term was in first grade — yet you’re almost certain it’s nothing like what you feel when he’s around you. This kind of love is different — it’s special. It’s the kind of love that causes a fiery sensation to bubble through you when you spare as much as a glance at him, yet it’s also the kind that keeps you calm and running like the waves washing against the shore of a golden beach.

You can’t put words to explain what love means after you met Bang Chan. It’s more than just a feeling or sensation — it’s like the warmth that flows through your insides when you sip on hot chocolate during cold winters, it’s when your whole life turns into shy smiles, delicate giggles and nervous glances exchanged towards each other. That could perhaps, only outline what you felt around him.

A small tug on your lips and flutter of your eyelashes is all it takes before Chan places his warm hand over your own, lacing fingers together as his thumb runs over the soft skin of your hand. There’s no need for words right now — just soft gazes lingering on each other and the chill air that clouds itself around you, making you yearn for the warmth that you know only Chan can provide.

You take a brief moment to let your eyes quickly run over Chan’s features — his black hair falling over his temples, his eyes peering into your own, his lips slightly parted open. He hasn’t taken the face chain off, yet. He looks like he’s taking you in too, and you want this moment to freeze right here. Because the way Chan’s looking at you right now almost sweeps you off your feet.

But of course, there’s your goofy side coming out when the feeling gets to the point where all you wanna do is just lean in and close the gap between the both of you.

“Close your mouth, mister.” You give him the most obscene-looking pout ever. “I know I’m too pretty to resist.” That (very cringy statement), paired with a wink thrown with each eye causes Chan to break eye contact from you and start laughing, hysterically.

“Y/N.” You can’t even see his eyes because of the tiny™ crescents that have taken their place. “What, in the name of lord, was that?” Chan clutches his stomach, his loud giggles very prominent in the quiet surroundings around you.

“Oh, come on, it’s the end of year. There should be harmony—” The last word is in a singsong voice, spreading your arms out to enhance the dramatic tone. “— everywhere possible. You just can’t appreciate my comedy.”

Chan only coos at you, leaning in to kiss your cheek ever-so-lightly before giving you the most beaming smile you’ve ever seen. He pinches where your cheeks feel hot. “Yes my little comedic genius, you’re adorable.”

“You love it.”

You pout at him, and Chan immediately leans in, cupping your cheeks and squishing them together before kissing the pout right off your face. He pecks lightly once, twice, thrice before pulling away, eyes glittering under the stars — you could see a whole universe in his orbs, and they seemed to be dragging you in.

You’d met — no, you’d properly seen Bang Chan for the first time when you passed by him in the MNET Countdown for their Miroh comeback. You’re forgetful enough to not remember what song you were promoting at that time, but you do remember bowing down at all the members of Stray Kids multiple times as you exited the stage. It was also the time you felt that tug on your heart’s strings, all because Chan’s lips pulled into a smile when his eyes fixated on yours.

You’re again, forgetful enough to not remember anything about your surroundings, but you do remember staring off into his brown eyes, even if it were for a mere second — yet it felt like you were swept off your feet. You do also remember when Chan reached out for your shoulder, and you froze. You weren’t capable of words as Chan brushed off a piece of tinsel off your top; throwing you a beaming smile.

“T-thank y-you,” You remember saying, stuttering, rather. You could feel his radiance clouding your brain as you scrambled along your route, trying to calm yourself down of that unfelt rush of emotion you’d just felt. The loud applause and the bustling crowd, the members singing their parts of the song, the other groups making their exit — you couldn’t bring yourself to focus on anything except that smile. Those eyes that crinkled into the finest of crescents, that flash of his dimples that softened your heart and then that final brush of his fingers against your shoulder, enough to take your breath away.

Call you lovestruck, but Bang Chan had you in his grasp the moment he laid his eyes on you.

The second time you met Bang Chan was again, at a show, but this time. You were an MC instead of a performer. You don’t need to dwell on the lot of details again, but you can still feel that shock wave that ripped through your fingers when Chan borrowed the mic from you. Your fingers only barely touched, yet you could feel all the blood rush to your face in that very moment, biting your lip slightly as you allowed him to do the talking.

You did pray and hope that he, or anybody else for that matter, didn’t notice how red you were, because hell that was embarrassing.

“You look at him like he’s an anime character come to life.” Ah, typical friends. Using your love for anime boys to tease the way you kept blushing every time Chan even so happened to walk past you.

Of course, by the third week of this happening, you were almost certain you’d fallen head over heels for the man — that man who you’d never talked to before, if you didn’t count the awkward hellos and bows you’d shared. You didn’t understand why or when or how he managed to catch your attention so much — all you knew was that you were hurled headfirst into the vortex of love, and you were only plunging deeper and deeper in, with no way out.

But did you want a way out?

“I can feel you staring.”

Oh shit. You awkwardly straighten yourself before shifting your gaze two degrees to the side. Chan’s dorm (he’d made sure all the boys were out) was a less-than-ideal-location for a first date, but being an idol has its own repercussions, you like to believe.

“Y/N!” He exclaims, giggling at you as he shakes your arm, like he’s trying to pull you out of a trance or something. It only makes you very obviously shy of the fact that he’s caught you red-handed.

“I have something for you…” He drags, his eyes looking curiously into yours, scanning for a response. Your own widen and a smile takes over your lips — you don’t care about the gift in all honesty, just the fact that he thought of getting you something for something like a first date warmed you up.

“What could that be, hm?”

“Wait here.”

He runs into his (shared) room and you hear sounds of him rummaging through something, and he returns with a small object in his hand. You try to get a glance at it but his hand is covering it up majorly, and he cheekily smiles as he sits in front of you.

“Close your eyes.” He says in that adorable, pouty voice that can have you do almost anything for him. Sure, this is your first date, but it took you two weeks after the confession to clear up your schedules and set a timing and place for you to meet up.

“Channn, just show it already!” You counter, groaning at his secretiveness.

“Nope, you’ll have to close your eyes.”

If he wasn’t so freaking adorable, you’d have snatched that thing from his hand, owing to the amount of curiosity you had.

“Ugh, okay fine.” You squeeze your eyes shut, sighing when you feel Chan’s soft hand engulf your own before placing something cold and… is that plastic?

You open your eyes to look at the small, rectangular object in your hand.

“A cassette tape?” You raise an eyebrow — not mockingly, but rather in a questioning way. As far as you remember, cassettes weren’t something used regularly to play music.

“Mhm, we had a lot of time before our first date, you know? So I thought I’d try to make it special.”

“Awh, how are we gonna play this?”

“Behind you.”

You frown, turning behind you to look at the massive, ancient cassette-player sitting on a table.

“How did I just notice that now?” Chan shrugs.

“Let’s l-listen to it then.” A small smile graces your lips.

And of course, you were crying by the end of the tape.

You do remember the contents of the tape. It had four songs — all of which were supposedly written for you — you didn’t bother to ask, but the mere thought of him going through all that to record and immortalize them into a tape had you touched.

The thought invokes a heavy feeling of nostalgia — suddenly you wanna go back in time, one year ago on your first date, just to relive the experience. Looking at Chan has always made you want to give everything you could to the man — yes, he was handsome, he was pretty, but moreover you could never, ever get over how much of a kind hearted and empathetic man he was. He’d pulled you out of your most vulnerable state and shown you how the true world was really like — filled with love, joy and exhilaration.

“Hey.” You hear the whisper and shake yourself out of your thoughts. “It’s thirty seconds to midnight. They’re gonna release the fireworks.”

A nod, and the both of you rush to move to the edge of the compound and gaze at the night sky.

“Don’t you think they’ll be looking for us below?”

“Nah, I told Hyunjin and Jisung where I’m going, they’ll take care of it.” Like usual, he intertwines your fingers together once again, looking up at the sky and then at his watch. You only giggle at his words, nodding before leaning to rest your head against his shoulder.

“Twenty seconds.”

This was it. In twenty seconds, the year would come to an end — while all the memories you’d made with Chan, and everyone for that matter, would remain, a small part of you would miss this year and all it’s days. Yet, you could be either excited for the year that was to come, or be sad that an amazing one was going to end — and you were leaning towards the former.

“You know,” You feel a sudden burst of emotion cutting through you — almost like you’re starting to tear up.

“Yeah?”

“I’m-I’m really glad I met you.”

The bustling of the city grows louder, and you can hear the collective chats echoing throughout the space.

Chan isn’t amused, but you can tell he’s taken aback by the sudden vocalization of your thoughts, especially when you tend to keep yourself on the more silent side.

“O-Oh…”

You smile, still holding his hand when you turn to face him and he does the same, eyes filled with curiosity, a hint of confusion, but he nonetheless let’s you speak.

“I don’t know, every time I look at you, I just think about — how grateful I am to have you standing next to me like this. And I might sound a little cheesy or dramatic here, but I’m really, so happy when I’m with you — you really make me smile without doing anything, you make me feel safe and it’s just… you’re so special to me.”

Perhaps it’s just the sudden surge of emotion you feel when you look into Chan’s eyes, but you can’t seem to stop yourself from saying anything. The words just spill out and string themselves into a confession that leaves Chan breathless.

A soft sniffle leaves your lips and Chan’s eyes gloss over too, he silently brushes his thumb under your eyes to collect the tears that fall out.

The loud sound of ringing resounds throughout, signifying that there’s only ten seconds left. The chants pour in, one by one. Ten, nine, eight, seven…

Chan really doesn’t know why he’s gotten emotional over a small confession, but to him it feels like a weight lifted off his shoulders. Not that he had any doubt in the first place, but the reassurance you give him is more satisfactory than anything he’s ever felt. While Chan knows you’re happy being with him (and vice versa), moments like these are what make your relationship lively and exciting, joyous.

Six, five, four.

“Why, you must be in love, then, Y/N.” He feels himself say. You look up to him and your eyes meet and it feels like a world’s united together. You love him, he loves you, and tonight, that is all that matters.

Three, two…

“Oh trust me.” You say, and at that moment, you hear nothing, except for the thudding of your quickened heartbeat and Chan’s voice catching in his throat. “I know.”

One.

You barely notice the luminescent firecrackers that start bursting behind and all around you high up in the sky when Chan’s gentle grip on your cheeks tightens and he pulls you in, chest crushing against yours as his lips engulf your own in one of the warmest, softest kisses you think you’ve ever received.

Because in the end, this is where you like being the most — in his arms, feeling his presence beside you building your confidence. You think it’s destiny, it’s fate how the both of you seem to click so much and fit with each other so well — indeed, you’re in love with Bang Chan. Because with the start of the new year, you can feel yourself forgetting about everything negative, everything except the light of your life, him. Your thoughts are fuzzy but still coherent, and you want to drown yourself in everything Chan, Chan, Chan.

When you pull away and rest foreheads against each other, finally, it all seems peaceful. There’s the distant chattering from below, but you and Chan are trapped in your own world to notice that.

“Happy New Year…” It’s a tiny whisper, yet you catch it quite easily.

“Happy New year,” you say, smiling at him lovingly before pecking his lips, leaning into his chest and humming when his hands wrap around your shoulders, engulfing you in warmth. “I love you.”

“And I love you.”

You smile to yourself. In your head, you know what you’re gonna do is half to revive past memories and half because you want to get back at Chan for almost making you cry on that first date with his dimpled smile and his thoughtful gift.

“I have something for you.” You playfully word, feeling that wave of nostalgia hit you when Chan raises an eyebrow.

“I thought we didn’t get each other gifts for new years.”

“Yeah, but this is special. Close your eyes.” Chan does as you say, though reluctantly, holding himself back from tangling his fingers with yours again. You snicker at how he bites his lips and stiffens his fingers, leaning to press a soft kiss into his palm before placing the gift.

Chan frowns and opens his eyes to peer into your own, fiddling with the cassette tape in his hand.

“A cassette tape?” he probably doesn’t remember in explicit detail, but you try not to laugh at how he mimics the exact same way you acted on the first date.

“Yeah, it’s something I made for you.”

“Oh,” He looks at you sweetly, making your heart swell as you nod in agreement. “I’ll listen to it when I get home, we have the cassette player there.”

You shake your head. “Mhm, nope! Lucky for you, I contacted the right people so you could listen to it.”

Chan raises both his eyebrows in amusement, chuckling to himself as he turns in the direction you point.

“Behind you.”

And just like the old times, that cassette player was still there. It had taken you a whole two trips to McDonald’s to convince Minho to help you sneak it in, but if it all worked out, everything was set.

“How did I just notice that now?” Chan seems amused at the level you’ve gone to present your gift, and a tiny bit mellow at your actions.

And this time, you were the one who had him tearing up by the end of the night.

*:･ﾟ✧ find the other fics here !

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fabulouspotatosister · 4 years

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just for a day

summary: What’s a little acting between friends? If friends was even the right word.

word count: (idk yet man lol ) 3,373

request: Hello! I just wanna say your writing is absolutely amazing! If I may, could I request an 11 x reader where the reader’s friends keep bugging them to get a boyfriend, but they say they already do and they have to ask the Doctor to be their “boyfriend” (kind of like with Clara at the beginning of Time Of The Doctor) and eventually leads to feelings being spilt? If not, that’s perfectly fine!

a/n: this got WAYYY too long and for that i am so sorry lmao. i’m writing and posting this on the same day so if there are many mistakes or it doesn’t make sense that’s on me. anyway, i hope you enjoy this fic!

gif credit: @pavel-chekovs

“You’re back!”

You’d expected screaming. You’d expected yelling, and a fair dose of pterodactyl-esque screeching from the students in your advisory class, but what you weren’t expecting was crying. And lots of it. Nearly every fresh-faced elementary student was in tears, some sobbing quietly and some full-on bawling as soon as you walked through the door.

It was nice, cute even, but honestly a little disconcerting.

“Hi, everyone,” you said, shutting the door carefully behind you. The sight of their crying faces immediately activated your Parent Mode. “Are you all okay?”

“Perfectly fine!” Marih chirped, president of the class and therefore a little more levelheaded than the rest, which earned her a handful of disagreeing sighs. “What? Guys, you look ridiculous crying,” she continued, as she wiped her cheeks with the back of her palms and gave you a toothy grin. “We’re just happy you’re here again.”

You smiled at her, and reached out to pat the top of her head. “That’s great and all, but it’s like you guys haven’t seen me in ages.”

A heavy silence fell over the whole class. You saw students shift in their seats and look down at the floor, suddenly very interested in their black school shoes. Even Jaden, the class’s resident troublemaker, didn’t say a word. Marih cringed, ran a hand through her long dark hair, and smoothed the front of her checkered uniform.

“How long have I been gone?” you asked, raising an eyebrow. Marih seemed to cringe away at the question. “I thought I was only travelling for a week!”

“Actually,” Marih said, stretching out the word, “you’ve been gone for three months?”

Your mouth fell open. You stared at her for a moment, dumbfounded, before you dug into your pocket and fished out your phone – she was right, it had been exactly three months and a week since you’d left the school to go travelling.

You groaned. “Oh, I’m going to kill him.”

By travelling, you meant time travelling and by him you meant the Doctor. The madman in a box that you’d run off with. You had let him turn your life upside down in the best way possible since he dragged you into the TARDIS, with his stupidly gorgeous smile and eyes and – you were getting off topic. Now you were plotting the murder of the man that you would consider to be the most incredible thing that had ever happened to you.

“Hey, ma’am?” came a soft voice from the front of the room. Karyll, with her tied-back hair and glasses, looked up at you from her seat. “Why are you looking like you’re going to kill someone?”

“’Cause I am,” you said cheerily, shoving your phone back into your pocket. Oh, you were going to have words with him, and they would most definitely not be nice ones. “Have I missed anything big? Were you nice to my substitute?”

A collective wave of disagreement swept over the class, and you couldn’t help but let a smile slip onto your face. These were your babies after all, and if you’d really been gone for three months then they were sorely missing their Second Mom.

Maybe the tears weren’t that much of a surprise after all.

“Okay, good morning everyone! Now, if we’re still on schedule, and I really hope we are, we should be talking about integers…”

The late afternoon sun drifted through the curtains of your classroom, filling the room with an almost hazy glow as you sat with your best friends in a haphazard circle of desks. Your kids had all gone home already, and a little pile of flowers and chocolates sat neatly on your shelves, right beside your lesson plan folders.

Denise leaned forward to look at them, her curly hair falling over her face. She was the elementary students’ science teacher, and was so well-organized it was almost inhuman. She would have liked the planet where everything was arranged alphabetically, you thought.

“I’m jealous, my students never give me gifts,” she said as she leaned away. “Sis, where have you even been?”

“Long story,” you replied, and it was. You weren’t sure if you could fit everything you’d been through – travelling through time, going to planets lightyears away, and of course all of the near-death experiences – into a story that you could tell in under an hour, and you weren’t going to try.

“And you’ve been travelling? By yourself?” Julianne, an arts teacher, raised her eyebrows at you from behind her laptop. “God, that’s lonely. Oh – unless…” Her calm expression morphed into something truly evil in your line of work – mischievousness. “Unless you had someone with you.”

“I mean –” Oh no, this was going to be hard to get out of. “I mean, I wasn’t alone,” you said, hoping the smile on your face was enough to mask your utter fear. You knew exactly where Julianne was going and you hated it. “I was with someone.”

“Ooh,” Julianne said, her grin growing so sly it was sending shivers up your spine. “You’ve been gone three months, has anything happened between you and your travel buddy?”

Heat rushed to your face. If you were a cartoon character steam would be pouring from your ears. “Why would you say something like that?”

Julianne shrugged. “We’ve been telling you to get a boyfriend for so long. You said you’d be gone a week, and then you disappear for three months… that kinda says something, don’t you think, Denise?”

“Definitely.” Denise grinned, and you shot her a helpless look.

“We’re doing this because we love you,” Julianne sang. The light from her laptop was enough to make her look absolutely menacing. “So? Travel buddy? Or more than that?”

The Doctor wasn’t just a travel buddy, and he was so much more than that – but you hadn’t found the words for what he meant to you, at least not yet. Companion was enough for you and him, but even then, there was a weight to that word. And there was definitely a weight to your partnership, but you wouldn’t call it… dating.

Julianne simply waggled her perfectly shaped eyebrows at you. You swallowed. You and the Doctor were a long story too, and Julianne wasn’t going to be happy with “maybe” for an answer.

The words were out of your mouth before you could stop yourself. “Fine, he’s my boyfriend!”

I want to crawl into a hole and die was your inner monologue, and your background music was Julianne and Denise’s raucous laughter. I want to crawl into a hole and never have to face the world ever again.

Smash cut to you, standing nervously in your bedroom, gripping your phone so tightly you were sure it was going to break. Your plans of killing the Doctor for dropping you off late would have to wait. The phone rung once, twice, and you chewed your lip. If he was in the Time Vortex, any version of him could answer the phone and you couldn’t deal with that on top of everything, not today at least –

“Hello?”

You heaved a sigh of relief at the sound of the Doctor, your Doctor’s voice. “Help?” you squeaked out.

“Help?” the Doctor repeated. There was a blaring noise, and then the sound of electricity crackling. Something fizzled and popped, and the Doctor shouted something that sounded like a swear. “Oh, shut it – you – sorry, sorry. You were saying?”

“Uh, where are you right now? Are you somewhere?” you asked.

“I’m not somewhere, I’m drifting! Right above Earth, approximately right where you are,” he said. You could hear the smile in his voice. It quelled your anxiety somewhat. “I’m doing maintenance. Agh – ow! I think I can see the roof of your house through the clouds, unless that’s someone else’s house. What color is your roof?”

You giggled. “It’s brown. You’re in the same time as me?”

“’Course I am,” the Doctor said. You heard the clanging sound of metal being dropped. “I never left.”

The Doctor liked to run off on his own when you were home and have his own mini-adventures. He liked to come back and say he’d spent his time with alien royalty, or something like that. But instead he was staying put, he was waiting, for you. It made the next part so much harder.

“I need you to be my boyfriend,” you said quickly, covering your burning face with your free hand.

“Oh,” the Doctor said simply. Another clang.

Oh? “Just for a day,” you coughed. “I kind of said that I had a boyfriend, and that he was my travel buddy, and now my friends kind of want to meet you. It’s my grade’s family day tomorrow, maybe you could, uh, show up?”

“And be your boyfriend,” the Doctor said.

You nodded, then, “And be my boyfriend. Just for the day. You never have to show up again.”

There was a beat of silence, and for a second you thought the Doctor was going to say no – he had every right to, of course, and you could just lie and say that he couldn’t show up – but the Doctor laughed, cheerful and warm. “Ding-dong! Okay! What time tomorrow? I have to study, I’m a bit rusty in places.”

Your mouth fell open for the second time in twenty-four hours. “You’re serious?”

“Very! Any pet name preferences?”

You groaned loudly, and the Doctor laughed again. “Shut up!”

“Alright, alright. Guess I’ll have to do my own research.”

There was another moment of silence, and when the Doctor spoke again, it was much softer, much less playful. His voice almost sounded fond. “Goodnight?”

“Goodnight, Doctor,” you said softly, and the call cut off with a series of short beeps.

Was it a surprise that you barely slept at all? You had spent the whole night with your imagination running at full capacity, your mind latching onto every single thought and concept it could come up with. You slipped in and out of sleep, lying still in bed whenever a possibility popped into your head. To say you were nervous was the understatement of the year – but what was a little acting between friends?

If friends was the right word for it.

You waited for the Doctor behind the school, leaning against the concrete wall and watching the TARDIS fade into this plane. Wind blew into your face as the TARDIS groaned and wheezed, eventually materializing in front of you.

“I’m not late, am I?” the Doctor said, sticking his head out of the TARDIS doors. He grinned widely, his hair falling into his face. You grinned back at him and pushed yourself off the wall.

“You’re early, which is a first,” you said. The Doctor frowned at you, stepped carefully out of the TARDIS, and frowned some more. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“I think I’ve earned the right to look at you however I’d like,” the Doctor huffed, adjusting his bowtie. He’d ditched the tweed for the day, it seemed, going with a long green coat that annoyingly complimented his eyes. The frown didn’t last very long, though, because he went right back to grinning brightly at you. He held out his elbow in your direction. “Shall we?”

“Here’s the lucky girl,” Julianne cooed as you walked into the empty canteen. All the tables were pushed aside to make space for all the games you’d be playing – in the corner of your eye, you saw the Doctor light up at the sight of all of the streamers and balloons. “And here’s the lucky boy – oh my god, Denise.”

“What?” Denise popped up from behind a large speaker, then blanched. “Oh, now I’m double jealous.”

The Doctor pulled away from you to lightly kiss both of Julianne’s cheeks in greeting. Julianne looked positively starstruck when he stepped back to stand beside you, quickly waving Denise over. Denise had her mouth hanging open, still clutching a microphone in her hands.

“Hi,” you said, gesturing at the Doctor, “here’s my boyfriend.”

The Doctor raised his hand and smiled. “Hello! I’m John Smith, lovely to meet you both. You’re my girlfriend’s girl friends, I assume?”

“Uh –” Denise blinked owlishly. “Yeah, we are.” Then, quietly and to herself, “Holy moly.”

You couldn’t help but grin at their flabbergasted faces. The Doctor rested his hand on the small of your back, and you leaned into his touch as if it was the most normal thing in the universe. That was enough to make Denise stumble into Julianne, who barely even reacted, as she was still staring wide-eyed at the both of you.

“I think we caught them off guard,” you said. The Doctor chuckled and leaned down to kiss the top of your head.

“You did when we met, sweetheart,” the Doctor said smoothly. Sweetheart echoed in your ears and bounced off the walls of your already racing mind. Your heart stuttered in your chest. That was bad.

“Oh, are we doing charm now?” you asked. “Are you trying to be charming?”

“I did say I would study,” the Doctor said.

“You guys are insufferable,” Denise said, but she was beaming at you. “If you could get your hands off of your travel buddy for just a few minutes, I need help with the mics, the families are gonna be here any minute…”

Her voice trailed off as she walked back to the speaker. You stood on your tiptoes to kiss the Doctor’s cheek, feeling his skin heat up underneath your lips. “See you later.”

“…See you,” the Doctor echoed, and bent down to kiss your cheek too. He turned on his heel and walked towards the decorations, softly muttering, “Ooh, balloons! Love a good balloon…”

You stared at him for longer than you should have, watching him poke and prod at the balloons lying on the tables. He put his face very close to one and smiled at his reflection in the plastic. Affection welled up in your chest, and a tiny smile slipped onto your face.

“Look at you, you’re smiling at him,” Julianne chimed, sidling up to you and nudging your side. “That’s disgusting.”

“Says the girl who said I needed to get a boyfriend,” you shot back.

The Doctor went still for a little bit and turned to face you, smiled and winked, then went right back to inspecting balloons. Julianne made a strangled noise, and you made one too. So he was doing charm, and you hated to admit that it was absolutely working on you.

“I meant to say disgustingly adorable,” Julianne said. “You’re so lucky.”

You gave him another glance as you walked away to help Denise with the mics – “help with the mics” was apparently code for “I’m going to tease you more about your new boyfriend” which wasn’t helped by the fact that every so often, the Doctor would look in your direction and just smile, which was enough to make you stumble over your own words and give Denise more teasing fodder.

The parents and their kids eventually filed into the canteen and you flipped into Teacher Mode. You stood next to your students, pinched their cheeks and then greeted all of the parents and got everyone ready for the program. (You didn’t notice how the Doctor mirrored you, standing a little far away and watching, a dumb smile on his face.)

Julianne and Denise were the emcees for the family day, big smiles on their faces as they rounded up everyone for the games. At the mere mention of games, the Doctor was back at your side at an instant, his eyes glittering with excitement.

“Please don’t destroy the kids,” you pleaded.

“No promises,” he replied, and then proceeded to destroy the kids in most of the games.

The first game had Julianne call out for whoever could bring an item of her choice to the table – the Doctor, with his coat that was surely bigger on the inside, had no trouble pulling out whatever was asked. Even when Julianne started to test the waters and ask for increasingly insane items, the Doctor just kept going. He jumped in joy like a little kid at the win, bounding up to you and pressing a kiss to your cheek. You’d just blushed and smiled, ignoring the butterflies that were multiplying in your stomach.

The Doctor holding your hand wasn’t new. The Doctor being close to you wasn’t new. The Doctor being affectionate with you wasn’t new. But now it was all under the guise of being your boyfriend. Of course it felt different, but to your surprise and growing horror, it didn’t feel bad.

The Doctor shouting your name snapped you out of your thoughts. He was standing on a piece of newspaper as Denise started to get music ready, waving his arms to beckon you over. His coat was gone, thrown onto a nearby table, and even without it he was dashing.

“I need you over here!” he yelled, still jumping excitedly. His hair bounced up and down with the movement. “I need a partner!”

You let your feet carry you to him, trying to ignore the stares pointed your way. The Doctor took your hand in his and pulled you onto the newspaper.

“Stay close,” the Doctor said. “I’ve got this.”

Loud, thumping music filled the air. The Doctor spun you around and you squealed in surprise, moving your feet clumsily to the music. Suddenly, it stopped, and the Doctor pulled you back onto the newspaper. It was a tight fit, and you had to press yourself against his body to even stay standing. The butterflies in your stomach went crazy at the contact, and once again you tried to ignore that, too.

“What did I say?” the Doctor breathed, his breath tickling your ear, his smile wide and manic. “Let’s dance!”

The paper got smaller and smaller, and the two of you got closer and closer. Sweat started to bead on your forehead, and the Doctor had rolled his sleeves up in the middle of all the chaos. In the end, it was just you and another pair of parents, tiptoeing on their own folded pieces of newspaper.

“I’ve got an idea,” the Doctor said, his voice loud over the music. “When the music stops, jump into my arms.”

“Seriously?!” you shouted, and the Doctor nodded enthusiastically. “You’ve got the balance of a drunk giraffe! You’ll drop me!”

“Do you trust me?” the Doctor asked.

There wasn’t any question. “I do!”

“Then jump!”

The music stopped, and in the split second where the Doctor stepped onto the now-tiny folded newspaper, you ran and leapt. For a moment, it seemed like he wouldn’t be able to catch you at all, and in your mind you could already see it – you crashing into him and sending you both tumbling to the floor.

The Doctor’s arms shot out and caught you. Cheers erupted from everyone in the canteen, and behind you your competitors both lost their balance and fell face-first onto the floor. You wrapped your arms around the Doctor’s neck to steady yourself in his arms, feeling him shake slightly as he kept you aloft.

“We won!” you gasped, still basking in all of the cheering. “As expected from my lovely boyfriend.”

The words left your mouth as easily as breathing. You smiled up at the Doctor, breathless from all of the dancing. His skin shone with sweat, his hair was a mess, and his bowtie was askew, but even that was enough to make you throw all caution to the wind – still in his arms, you pulled him down and kissed him.

Cheers erupted from everyone again, but you could care less. The room could be empty and nothing would have changed. As cliché as it sounded, all the mattered was the feeling of the Doctor’s lips against yours. Your hands found their way into his hair and he melted into your touch, pulling you closer to him.

“You know,” the Doctor breathed as he pulled away, “I don’t want this to be just for a day.”

“Good,” you replied. You leaned up to press a chaste kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Because I don’t either.”

#doctor who #doctor who x reader #eleventh doctor x reader #11th doctor x reader #doctor who fanfiction #eleventh doctor fanfiction #oh god i spend too long on the intro for this i'm so sorry

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parachutingkitten · 3 years

Text

“What’d the police station say?” Lloyd asked.

“They said they haven’t heard anything about him, but they’ll keep an ear out.” Cole shrugged, hanging up the phone.

“It’s not like him to just disappear on us like this.” Kai paced across the floor. “Well, maybe it is, but he’ll usually at least tell us first, even if it is at the last possible minute.”

“What if he’s been kidnapped,” Jay suggested. “or got sucked into a time vortex or-”

“Or went for a late night tea run?” Nya suggested. “Wu not being here isn’t the end of the world.”

“What if he’s been turned into a chicken?” Jay considered the possibility seemingly deaf to the rest of the conversation.

“No one’s seen him since this morning,” Kai insisted.

“That does not necessarily mean he wasn’t here,” Zane countered. “I’m sure there’s a logical explanation.”

“It’s so rainy out, what if he just slipped and fell?” Jay offered his first reasonable theory of the night.

“Even if something has happened, Master Wu is perfectly capable of handling himself,” Pixal assured them.

“I’m more worried about what he’s doing if he’s not in trouble.” Kai stopped, crossing his arms.

“And what might that be?” Pixal pressed.

Kai looked up at her, as if accepting a challenge. “Going behind our backs, starting something he can’t finish, keeping secrets. Every time he tries to sneak around us, it always blows up in our face.”

“And yet, he is our master.” Pixal took a step towards him. “And I’d say he’s afforded a day of absence without being subject to our suspicions.”

Just then the door creaked open, a rain draped Sensei Wu standing on the other side.

“Sensei! We thought you’d been eaten by a bear!” Jay came barreling towards him, surrounding him in a hug.

Wu let out a confused chuckle as Jay released his embrace. “No, I’m quite fine.”

“So where were you then?” Nya asked, still on the couch.

“Oh, just…” He thought for a moment before responding. “Picking something up.”

“So, nothing big?” Cole clarified.

“Well,” Wu began. “Things may change a bit around here, but it shouldn’t be anything too difficult for you to manage.”

“Is there a change in our scheduling? Responsibilities?” Zane asked. “Will we need additional defenses for the monastery or-”

Another figure appeared through the rain, quickly finding their way inside. Her hair was drenched, as well as the luggage she dragged in behind her, a small dark blue bag that she struggled to get past the door frame before closing the door. Her presence seemed protected by Wu’s, her eyes strangely watching for the room’s reaction rather than making any of their own.

“Everyone, this is Dawn,” Wu began. “She’ll be staying with us for the next little while.”

Kai’s eyes narrowed. This was just what he was worried about. There was something strange going on here. They never had overnight guests. Who was this girl? A stark silence hung in the room only long enough for it to become uncertain before Jay broke it.

“It’s so nice to meet you!” Jay’s hand shot forward as she quickly shook it, a simile quickly sprouting on her face. Pleasantries were quickly exchanged, and the room seemed to slowly step into motion as a myriad of brief introductions were tossed around- but not Kai’s. He was still stuck on why this mysterious visitor was here to begin with.

“I can take your bag if you like,” Cole offered.

The group started down the hall, meaningless chatter following them as they walked.

“If you need anything, you can always ask me, I pretty much run the place,” Jay boasted.

“Yeah, maybe don’t go to him first,” Nya suggested.

Kai was stuck in place, tracking her, an uneasy feeling refusing to leave him. His stare turned to Sensei, a bit of accusation behind his eyes.

“Who is she?”

“She’s a good friend of mine who’s run into some difficulties, and who I’d like to feel welcome.” Wu answered, quite calmly.

“What sort of difficulties, exactly?” Kai pressed.

“That’s entirely her own business, and I expect she’ll tell you if she’d like to.”

“She seems familiar with Pixal,” Zane noted, also remaining with them in the entryway, watching as she and Pixal exchanged a meaningful glance and a firm nod.

“Perhaps Pixal is simply being friendly,” Wu suggested.

“You know that’s not the case. What’s really going on here?” Kai demanded.

“We’re having a house guest for the next little while,” Wu shrugged. “And a very nice one at that, so I’d prefer you not scare her off.” Wu cautioned before making his way down the hallway to meet the others.

“Somethings not right,” Kai grumbled.

“It does appear he’s intentionality withholding information from us,” Zane concluded. “The question is, what?”

“Whatever it is, I need to find out.” Kai decided, moving to shadow the team now slowly dispersing from the newcomer’s room.

“And breakfast is usually at 7:00.” Lloyd’s voice came as he backed into the hall.

“What is it that has you so concerned?” Zane wondered as they moved closer.

“If he’s hiding something, that means she’s hiding something, and we could have potentially just let a spy infiltrate our headquarters.” Kai’s tone grew more hushed as they grew nearer, now able to peak through the open doorway.

“And if you need, like, literally anything, I am right next door.” Cole gestured as he exited.

“Wu certainly doesn’t suspect her of any malice,” Zane reasoned.

“No, but what if she’s possessed or bugged or some unsuspecting plant?”

“Like some sort of sleeper agent?”

“Exactly.”

“Hey, Kai.”

His head snapped at his name, his mind now processing her voice for the first time since she’d stepped through the door. “You gonna whisper like some weirdo outside my door all night, or come and say hi?”

She sat quite casually on her bed, Pixal next to her, the only one other one left in the room at this point.

“I did get the name right, right? Kai’s the red one?” She jokingly turned to Pixal.

“Yeah, you got it.” Pixal nodded. “You can tell it’s him because he’s the annoying one.” She teased, finally luring him into the room.

Kai rolled his eyes. “I thought we all agreed Jay was the annoying one.”

“That’s right, you’re the stupid one. Sorry, I had you confused for a second,” Pixal smirked.

“It’s okay, everyone knows you’re the slow one,” Kai retorted.

“Still haven’t gotten my hi,” the new voice sighed, again grabbing Kai’s attention.

His eyes quickly shifted, skeptically studying her for a moment. Her clothes were scrappy and functional, but still well coordinated and flattering. Her hands were heavily worked and her hair a dirty blonde mess from the downpour outside. Her skin had certainly seen it’s fair share of days in the sun, but was now kissed with rain, which didn’t much seem to bother her. Her face seemed worn, but not in a tired sense. Her cheeks were flush red with a thick scattering of freckles, and a few stray scars. Her eyes read as fairly open, a strangely rich sort of gray with a long past behind them. They looked back up at him, playful, knowing, untroubled, and waiting for an answer. An answer which he was still reluctant to give.

“...Hi.”

#here's that thing I said I would post #ninjago #oc: dawn #writing #kai smith #kai ninjago

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angelsunflowers-fanfics · 4 years

Text

[Life is Strange] Nathan Prescott x Little Sister!reader (The Vortex Club)

“Hi! I was wondering if you can do something a Lil different like the reader being Nathan Prescott's (from life is strange) Lil sister? Where Nathan's little sister is kinda different in a social sense (like being awkward, very loner type, etc) and he tries to help her somehow? Pronoun being she and the pov being in the reader's perspective. Thanks, I appreciate it a whole lot! “

Genre: Angst-Fluff

Linktree

~~~~

(y/n)'s leg bounced in anxiousness as the bell rang for her chemistry class to be over. The second it was, and the students filed out was the moment when she slowly put her things away and stood up. (Y/n) jumped lightly as a hand softly rested on her shoulder, she turned to see her lab partner, Warren Graham.

Her expression slowly melted into a soft smile.

"You were really out of it today. Is everything going okay?" Warren asked.

She liked how concerned he was, it was sweet. Not many people looked in her direction in general, but Warren truly cared.

"Yeah. Just nervous about tonight. Nate wants me to come to the vortex club party for the experience or to get me out of my shell but…" (y/n) trailed off the rest of her sentence

Warren crossed his arms over his chest in response, knowing how she'd react to that kind of environment. It was no secret that the younger Prescott was nowhere near close in personality to Nathan.

“It’s not your environment?” Warren asked in response.

(y/n) nodded, gesturing for Warren to follow her as they left class for the day, heading to his dorm for their scheduled movie night to relax after classes. It was their thing.

"I know that he's just trying to help but… the mere thought of going to that party makes me sick to my stomach," (y/n) explained.

Warren nodded, having known his friend for about a year, he knew the risks of her going to that party with the vortex club no less.

"You don't have to go. We could just chill here all night," Warren offered.

(Y/n) smiled at the thought of just hanging out with Warren instead of going to an anxiety-inducing party. But she knew that Nathan was trying, and she should make an effort to at least attend. She slowly shook her head, hating that she had to deny a cute inside-date. They were her favorite.

“I should. He’s trying, so I should too,” (y/n) softly rejected.

Warren sighed in disappointment and opened the door to his dorm to drop off his things before he turned to his…- to (y/n).

“Do you want me to walk you there?” Warren asked.

(y/n) smiled at the kind offer, but she knew if Nathan saw Warren with her, he’d flip. It was no secret that Nathan didn’t like Warren.

“It’s probably best if I go on my own. I’ll see you tomorrow?” (y/n) asked.

Warren crossed his arms over his chest again, not entirely happy with the situation as she had to go to a party, which would only make her anxious. He’ was worried. Before taking her leave, she was quick to take the extra step to press a quick kiss to Warren’s lips before she stepped away almost as quickly.

“Bye,” (y/n) whispered.

Before Warren could get a word in, (y/n) left the boys’ dormitory and headed to her own dorm to get ready for the party she didn’t really want to go to. But it was for Nathan, a little sibling bond for the two.

The vortex party didn’t start until late in the evening and by then, Nathan was already at the club, lounging in the VIP area as he waited for his little sister to arrive.

He knew that he and (y/n) were vastly different, but he still wanted to be close to her, even if their father wouldn’t. No matter what they did to try to appease him.

Nathan perked up a touch as he spotted his little sister squeezing her way through the large crowd and slipped inside the VIP section where it was far less crowded, though that didn’t seem to make her anxiety calm down a bit.

“Finally my baby sister arrives!” Nathan exclaimed as he stood to his feet to greet (y/n) properly, taking note of her jittery hands. Maybe a vortex party wasn’t the best idea of a get together with his anxious sister.

Nathan was starting to have second thoughts now.

“H-hey, Nath,” (y/n) anxiously greeted as her leg was bouncing faster than her heart: which was beating erratically in her chest. She didn’t want to be here, but she knew that she wanted some quality time with her brother.

(y/n) didn’t know how much more she could take of being in the setting, but it was only 9:30.

Nathan saw as five more people pile into the vortex room, which caused (y/n) to shuffle closer to him and away from the complete strangers at the party.

But as Nathan locked eyes with his little sister, he saw that they were completely glazed over. Guilt racked through Nathan’s body as he finally realized that she was in the midst of an anxiety attack.

Slowly, Nathan placed a hand in the middle of her back, trying to snap her out of it, but it wasn’t that easy.

“(y/n)?” Nathan asked.

In the span of a few seconds, she snapped out of his grip and turned to face him. Instead of calmly explaining everything as she’d wish, it all came tumbling out.

“I-I’m sorry, Nath. I can’t be here…” (y/n) mumbled.

She felt trembles course through her body as she ran out of the vortex party, leaving Nathan in the middle of it.

She didn’t just want to leave him standing there without much of an explanation on her part, but she couldn’t help what she was feeling.

And, in this exact moment, she instantly regretted it. But what could she do when she was on the verge of an anxiety attack?

Nathan instantly squeezed through the crowd or at least tried to. It wasn’t as easy for him as it was for (y/n). The drunk teenagers kept getting in his way, but he was finally at the exit.

He took in a deep breath of fresh air before he looked around the yard for a minute, spotting his little sister with that nerd from her chemistry class, Warren Graham. His teeth clenched at the sight of his baby sister so comfortable around Warren, but he sucked up his pride and strolled over to the two, wanting to be assured that (y/n) was okay.

“(y/n),” Nathan grabbed her attention.

She glanced at Warren before she gave him a smile, one with a hidden meaning, but it wasn’t Nathan’s place to say anything. Not now at least.

(y/n) took a deep breath before she walked away from Warren and to her older brother who needed to talk with her about what just happened. They definitely couldn’t leave what happened at the vortex party alone. Not when (y/n) literally just had an anxiety attack in the midst of all the chaos.

“Hey, Nathan. Look… I--” Before she could apologize for something that was out of her control, Nathan pulled her into a hug. He let her rest her head on his shoulder he drew shapes into her back, soothing her against him.

Nathan didn’t exactly want to show a soft side to himself in front of anybody else, at least not Warren, but his little sister came first on his priority list.

“You were scared, it’s not your fault. I’d know better than anyone that it’s not your fault,” Nathan said as he pulled away from the short hug, to continue with his apology. Nathan knew what it was like to not be in control because of your emotions. He continued, “I’m sorry for even putting you in that kind of situation. I should have known better.” He pulled away completely, letting her digest everything he said.

"It's okay. You just wanted me to get out of my shell a little. I won't blame you for trying," (y/n) said, accepting his apology.

Nathan could feel a weight being lifted off of his chest, glad that his baby sister wasn’t angry with him in the slightest.

"Let me make it up to you with breakfast tomorrow, on me," Nathan offered as (y/n) glanced back to Warren, she was kind of done with the party scene at the moment, but would Nathan be okay with that? The older Prescott sighed almost dramatically but gave (y/n) a small nod of acceptance. "Go ahead, we can talk in the morning about this. "

(y/n) gave Nathan a grateful smile before she walked toward Warren, grabbing his hand in a way that only significant other's would do with each other and walked in the direction of the dorms, but it wasn’t exactly Nathan’s business.

Nathan watched his sister’s form disappear from his eyesight before he decided to continue with the vortex party.

He could always catch up with her tomorrow at breakfast, and grill Warren about his intentions with his little sister later.

#nathan prescott #nathan prescott x reader #life is strange #life is strange x reader #nathan prescott imagine #life is strange imagine #nathan prescott fanfic #life is strange fanfic #fanfiction #fanfic #self insert #Warren Graham

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teacupfulofstarshine · 4 years

Text

the crossroad of our destinies book three: air

cw: mild angst, cartoon violence, manipulation/betrayal, detailed fight scene including minor character death, blood, injury, weapons, sedatives, and manipulation, swearing, nightmare mention, references to past child abuse, mention of potential genocide

to skip the fight scene, skip the section that starts “There’s no need to be difficult, Roman.”

wordcount: 6926

book one: earth // book two: fire // read it on ao3!

“I’m hardly a master of air bending,” Patton says nervously, fidgeting with his hands.

“You’re the only air bender that we know,” Thomas says, pressing his hands together and bowing his head. “Please, Pat, you have to teach me! Who else will do it?”

“There are plenty of air benders in the temples where we live, Thomas, much more skilled than myself. I still think you’d be better off going there and seeking out one of the monks to train you.” Patton fidgets nervously with his hands. “I’m . . . not exactly a master airbender. I’m just a kid.”

“We’re all just kids,” Thomas argues. “None of us chose to be thrown into this war, but we’re here now. Please, Patton. The sooner I learn air bending, the closer I’ll be to ending this war.”

“And what happens when you do end the war?” Virgil asks.

“What do you mean?”

“We’re all from different nations, different histories, different cultures. We never would have met without this war. What will happen when it ends? Don’t get me wrong, I’m more than ready for peace, but are we just . . . never going to see each other again?”

“That’s stupid,” Roman says. “I’m not going to just stop being friends with you all once the war’s over. If anything, with my bitchass dad dead -”

“Language.”

“- I won’t have to worry about getting murdered for having friends. You’re all my friends, and I fully expect all of you to be at my wedding ceremony when I marry Dolos.”

“Really?” Logan asks softly. “You would want us to come to your wedding?”

“Of course I would,” Roman says. He reaches out and gently touches Logan’s shoulder. Logan smiles, and Virgil feels something tight in his chest begin to uncoil. “Somebody has to walk me down the aisle, after all.”

“I volunteer as tribute!” Patton chirps eagerly. “And - and Thomas, I’m not an air bending teacher, by any stretch of the imagination, but if you’re willing to put up with me, I can try and teach you what I know.”

*~*~*~*~*

“How many times have they done this now?” Roman asks.

“Counting this? Sevent - nope, eighteen,” Virgil says. Thomas tries to copy what Patton is showing him, and he falls flat on his face. “I think the problem is that earth and air are on opposite ends of the bending spectrum, so their movements are the antithesis of each other. Earth bending is all solid movements and grounded footing, and air bending is about being light and detached.”

“So what are you saying? Thomas won’t be able to learn how to do it?”

“No, he’ll be able to learn. Every Avatar before him has mastered all four elements, there’s no reason that he can’t do it too. It’s just gonna be particularly difficult to do this stage.”

Thomas falls for the nineteenth time, screams in frustration, and punches a massive fireball into the sky. “Impressive size, poor technique!” Roman calls.

“I’m not working on fire bending right now, criticism is unwarranted!”

“This isn’t going to work, is it,” Logan says dryly.

“Have some confidence in your brother,” Virgil says. “But no, I don’t think it is. We might need to try a different approach.”

“Such as what? Patton’s the only air bender that we’ve got.”

“Technically, we have Remy, too.”

“What in the fresh hell are you smoking?” Roman says. Virgil ignores him, reaching out to gently pat Remy’s nose. The flying bison huffs out a puff of warm air that nearly knocks Roman over and gently pushes his nose into Virgil’s hand.

“Fire benders learned to bend from the dragons, earth benders learned to bend from the badger moles, water benders learned to bend from the moon, and air benders learned to bend from the flying bison. I’m not saying that Remy has the temperament to be a bending master, mind you, I’m just saying that he could be a teacher.” Remy makes a disgruntled noise and shuffles off to flop down and sleep a few yards away.

“He might have better luck than Patton is currently having,” Logan says. “I am sure he is trying his best, but Thomas is not showing promising results.”

“Yeah, but think about how long it took for him to first make a flame when I was training him,” Roman argues.

“We no longer have that kind of time,” Logan says. “The reports from your brother are getting more dire every day. Your father is speeding up his plans of conquest, and we cannot let him harm any more innocent civilians. We must stop him in his tracks, and that may necessitate accelerating my brother’s training schedule.”

Thomas hits the ground again. Virgil winces at the noise. “We should have a team meeting about this.”

*~*~*~*~*

The team meeting takes several days.

This is mostly because people (namely Logan, Thomas, both of them, and occasionally Patton) get fed up and storm away to blow off steam without taking it out directly on other people. Virgil does his best to maintain a neutral voice-of-reason position, but no one in their group has ever been particularly inclined to neutrality. (Logan claims that he is, but he is also the most prone to losing his temper.)

Eventually, they come to a collective consensus that while Patton is doing his best to teach Thomas the ways of air bending, it may not be enough for the time frame they’re working with. “I’m doing my best,” Patton says, staring firmly into the campfire, “and I know that Thomas is doing his best, too. But I don’t think our bests are moving fast enough, given the timeline of the Fire Nation’s attacks.”

“According to Remus, my father is moving up the attack schedules every day,” Roman comments. “The faster Thomas can master air bending, the better.”

“I agree,” Thomas says. Logan makes a face, rocks trembling at his feet, but Thomas reaches out and squeezes his wrist. “Hey, Lo, stop it. It’s not a personal attack on me. I’m not mad, he’s right.” Logan huffs, but lets himself calm down. “We have to find someone qualified to teach air bending and hope that they can help me.”

“We should see which Air Nomad temple we’re closest to,” Patton says. “I think that’s our best bet. The monks there spend their whole lives training acolytes to bend air, they’ll be able to help you.”

“Are we sure that’s the safest option?” Roman counters. “Remus said that Air Nomad dignitaries were meeting with Father, and if that’s true then -”

“We’re pacifists,” Patton says stubbornly. “We only fight if absolutely necessary. We would never side with a tyrant who’s trying to take over the entire world.” The fire flares a little, and Patton winces and takes a deep breath. “I’m sorry, I - I didn’t mean to insult your dad, Roman. I just -"

“It’s okay,” Roman says. He lets out a long, slow, controlled breath, and Virgil watches as the fire returns to its original size. “It’s okay, you - you’re right. You’re right, Patton, you don’t have to apologize for that. My dad is a tyrant and he is an abusive asshole and he is trying to take over the entire world. You don’t have to apologize.”

“But he’s still your father,” Patton says. “It only makes sense that you would have an emotional attachment to him.”

“I don’t want to have an emotional attachment to him,” Roman pouts. “I barely want to have a genetic attachment to him! He’s a dumbass and he’s useless and - and I don’t need him or his validation!” He pushes to his feet angrily and throws a fireball towards the surrounding trees. Patton swiftly bends a vortex around the fire to suction out its oxygen before it can cause any significant damage.

“We know,” Logan says softly. “You are more than your father’s son, Roman. You have grown to be more than he could ever be.” Roman’s shoulder shake, chest heaving as he turns away. Virgil reaches out and touches his shoulder; Roman flinches, but when Virgil starts to pull his hand away, he whimpers and leans back towards the touch.

“We know you’re not him,” Virgil says quietly. “I know you’re not him.”

“He’s hurt all of you so much,” Roman whispers. “He’s the reason you lost your father, Virgil. He’s the reason Thomas and Logan’s village was razed to the ground, he’s the reason that Dolos had half of his face burnt off, he’s the reason my mother abandoned Remus and me and - and he did so much bad shit and - and I have to fix it, I have to -”

“You don’t have to do anything,” Thomas says. “I’m the Avatar, Roman, and it’s my job to restore balance to the world. I know that you have your own reasons for wanting to dethrone your father, but you are not responsible for what he did.” He grips Roman’s hands and gives what Virgil can only describe as his best “I’m-the-Avatar-and-everything-is-okay-now” smile.

Virgil has trouble pulling comfort from it, but Roman seems to. “Thanks, Thomas.” He squeezes Thomas’s hands back, and he smiles. Virgil is still uneasy about pretty much every aspect of their situation, but he can at least relax in the knowledge that their little group’s uneven edges have settled comfortably against each other again.

*~*~*~*~*

You are in more danger than you realize.

Virgil lifts his head, and suddenly he’s not curled around the campfire sleeping with the rest of his friends. He stands in the middle of a vast expanse of black nothingness. Wisps of smoke curl around his ankles, creeping up towards his knees. He swats them away hurriedly, whirling around and watching a puff of water vapor appear where he’d just breathed out.

“Who are you?! Where am I?!”

You are safe, little water bender. I am a friend, one you have rescued before.

The mist stirs in front of him, forming a small dragon shape coiled in front of him. “You’re . . . the dragon I saved from the Fire Nation temple?”

The very same. Your fire bender friend is right to be suspicious. The Air Nomads are acting strangely. There are disturbances in the Spirit World. Proceed with caution and make sure that you protect those close to you.

“Disturbances? Isn’t it Thomas’s job to balance the natural and spirit worlds as the Avatar? Should I tell him about it?”

This is not a disturbance he can heal, not yet. You must keep him safe until he matures enough to help us. Protect him, little water bender, and keep your eyes peeled. If the Avatar falls, the world is doomed.

The darkness surges up around Virgil, and he wakes up screaming.

*~*~*~*~*

“And you’re sure that you’re okay?” Patton asks, gently touching his shoulder. Virgil rubs his arms, shaking softly. “You were screaming so loudly . . . you were so scared . . .”

“It was just a nightmare,” Virgil says. Patton wraps an arm around Virgil’s shoulders, hesitantly, as though he’s going to push it away. Normally he would, but Virgil is still shaken, and he leans into the soft touch. Patton makes a soft noise and pulls him closer.

“I know it was,” Patton says. “But it’s okay. You’re awake now, and we’re here. It’ll be alright. We’ll be at the Western Air Temple in a couple days, and then we’ll be totally safe.”

Virgil doesn’t know how to tell him that they won’t be safe, that they’d be safer in the Fire Nation’s outlying villages than in the temple, because he’s seen the way Patton gets more excited the closer they get. So he stays silent, pressing close to his friend.

*~*~*~*~*

Remy swishes his tail irritably as they glide closer to the mountains. “Is he okay?” Virgil asks. “He seems kinda . . . upset.”

“He doesn’t like flying close to the mountains,” Patton says. “The winds are a lot stronger, and it takes more effort for him to course correct. He has to do it a lot more frequently, too.”

Remy makes an exasperated huffing noise and veers sharply to the left. “It’s so pretty up here,” Roman wonders, leaning over the side of the saddle. “Isn’t it beautiful, Logan?”

“Beautiful,” Logan deadpans. “There are so many different shades of black to see up here.”

Roman winces, but Logan is smirking, so Virgil pats his shoulder reassuringly and turns his gaze to the mountains. There’s a large, elaborate structure built into the crevasses of the largest mountain, spires and peaks and buildings, some of which blend so seamlessly into the mountain they’re difficult to see. If he squints, he can just barely make out tiny figures flitting around the mountain.

Remy lands at the base, rather than taking them all the way up to the top. “The head monks take turns bending the air currents around the Temple itself, so we can’t approach unannounced. We’re just gonna have to hike up there.”

“Why would we hike when Thomas and I can bend us up the mountain?” Logan says. He hops off of Remy’s saddle and wiggles his toes, happy to be back on the ground. “It will not take long at all.”

“But I don’t just want to leave Remy alone down here . . .”

Logan squares his shoulders and leans into an earthbending stance. Within five minutes, he’s created a cave in the side of the mountain for Remy to settle into. “I promise we’ll come back for you,” Patton says, pressing his forehead against Remy’s nose. The bison huffs, but licks Patton back anyway.

“I don’t like this,” Virgil says. “What if something goes wrong? We’ll be all the way up there, with no quick escape, I . . .”

“Are you expecting something to go wrong?” Patton asks softly. He looks upset, Virgil realizes, like he was expecting pushback.

“Of course not, Pat,” Virgil says, reassuring. “I didn’t mean to say that I don’t trust your people. That’s not what I’m tryin’a say at all. I’m always nervous that something will go wrong. Anxiety, remember? It’s kind of my job to worry about stuff like this.”

“I know,” Patton sighs, reaching over and patting at Virgil’s shoulder. “I appreciate you, Vee. But you know you don’t have to be worried, right? These are my people. They may not be the temple I grew up in, but they’re still my people. They won’t hurt us.”

Virgil smiles, and wishes he believed Patton.

*~*~*~*~*

Even with a master earth bender (not that he’d ever call Logan one to his face) and the Avatar himself, it takes them a good while to get up the mountain. Virgil gets more and more anxious the farther up the mountain they get, and Roman looks pretty antsy himself. He’d ditched his more traditional Fire Nation clothing for some of Thomas’s spares and he’d let Virgil style his hair to obscure his face.

“How much farther?” he asks. Patton is bouncing eagerly on the tips of his toes.

“Not long now!”

When they finally crest over a ridge and into the temple, they’re greeted by a group of school-age children. They all stare at the strangers with expressions ranging from confusion to wariness to outright terror, and then Patton steps forward. He says something in a language Virgil doesn’t speak, but it must be some kind of Air Nomad greeting because all of the children parrot back in unison.

Patton pushes his bangs off his face, showing them the arrow tattooed on his forehead. “My friends and I have come to seek sanctuary,” he says. “We do not mean to cause alarm.”

“What temple are you from?” one of the children asks. The others cluster behind her.

“I am from the Eastern Air Temple,” Patton says. “My friends are not air benders, but we come seeking sanctuary.”

“You have to come with us,” she says. “You have to speak to the Head Monk about that.”

“Of course,” Patton says. “If you would be so kind as to lead the way?”

One of the children tugs on Patton’s flowy skirt. “Why do you have hair, mister? Is that a Eastern Air Temple thing?”

“It’s not an Eastern Air Temple thing, dummy,” the leader says. “All Air Nomads shave their heads. I dunno why he’s weird.” Patton doesn’t flinch at the insinuation, but it’s a very close thing.

“It’s because I have not been in a temple for quite a while, little one,” Patton says instead. “We’ve been traveling for many months, and I haven’t been able to take care of all this.”

“Well, we can cut all your hair off here, mister,” the leader says. “C’mon, the Head Monk is gonna be interested to see you.”

Virgil looks at Roman, who looks exactly as nervous as Virgil feels, and swallows. Logan looks normal, but he’s also pressing closer to Thomas than he normally does (probably unintentionally).

Yeah. Virgil has a bad feeling about this.

*~*~*~*~*

The children take them to a large hallway. A single woman sits inside, eyes closed, meditating. Virgil is about to suggest that they come back later, so as not to bother her, but she speaks without opening her eyes. “Hiroshi. Kanna. What are you doing here?”

The girl, apparently named Kanna, recites a greeting and performs a strange bow. The boy, who must be Hiroshi, copies her quickly; the rest of the children had scattered long before they reached this hall. “Visitors, Head Monk. We brought them to you.”

The woman opens her eyes, standing up and sweeping her robes around her. “I see. Thank you. You are now dismissed.”

“Yes, Head Monk,” the children say, bowing again before scuttling out of the hall. The woman approaches them slowly, letting the anxiety in Virgil’s stomach rise to a rolling boil.

“I am Kya, Head Monk of the Eastern Air Temple. We welcome you, visitors, seekers of sanctuary.” Her words are kind, but her voice disturbs Virgil. It’s too calm, too devoid of emotion. “What brings you here today?”

Patton reveals his tattoo to her as well before performing the same strange bow Kanna and Hiroshi had. “I am Patton, of the Western Air Temple. These are my friends, they -”

Thomas steps forward, brown eyes gleaming slightly. “Head Monk Kya, my name is Thomas, and I am -”

“The Avatar,” she breathes.

“I’ve been trying to teach him air bending,” Patton says, “but -”

“You could not. I am unsurprised. You have clearly fallen out of practice.” There’s something strange in her eyes, and Patton seems to wilt away from her. “Allowing your hair to grow over your tattoos? Shameful. It is any wonder you can connect with the element which breathes life into your body. I am disappointed.” Her voice is like frost, and Patton grows smaller with every piercing word.

“Hey, that’s not fair to Patton,” Virgil says, stepping in front of him. “We’ve undergone a lot of challenging circumstances, it’s not like shaving was a priority compared to staying alive.”

Kya turns her gaze on him, but Virgil doesn’t falter. He’s faced winters colder than her gaze.

“Who are you to tell an air bender what is proper?” she says. “Do you even bend?”

“I do not bend,” Virgil grits.

“Then you have no place speaking here.” Kya turns back to the Avatar. “I am surprised that one of your station would travel with those who are not in touch with the elements, but I suppose I cannot make your choices for you. If you wish to spend the night here, you may, and we will make arrangements for your training to begin in the morning.”

Virgil glances around the hall while Thomas and Kya speak, frowning when he catches sight of someone lurking behind a pillar. “Who’s that?” he says loudly. Kya frowns at him, but she turns to look at the figure.

“No one of your concern,” she says. “You are dismissed. Leave my presence.”

Thomas turns around and walks out. Roman presses close to Patton, who’s clearly trying very hard not to cry, and Logan turns his face in Kya’s direction. If he could see with his eyes, Virgil would suspect he was glaring at her.

As they reach the doors, Virgil lifts one hand up deceptively, as though he’s going to stretch or scratch his face. The knife hidden in his sleeve gleams against his inner wrist as he angles it to spy on what’s going on behind him.

The figure steps out from behind the pillar, dressed in the blazing crimson colors of the Fire Nation, and begins to speak in a low voice to Kya. She nods, face still impassive and stony. Virgil feels his heart drop straight through his stomach and tumble right off the mountain.

*~*~*~*~*

“Are you sure?” Roman asks, for the sixth time in as many minutes.

“I know what I saw!” Virgil snaps. “I travel with a Fire Nation prince, Roman, do you think I don’t know what fucking Fire Nation clothes look like?”

“Kya . . . she sold us out?” Patton says. He’s curled into a ball on one of the beds in the little tower room they’ve been allowed to inhabit. “I - I don’t -”

“Remus said that Father was trying to broker some kind of peace with the Air Nomads,” Roman says, “and this temple is closest to Fire Nation territory. What if . . . what if he wasn’t looking for peace at all?”

“You think he’s colluding with the Air Nomads?”

“We have no proof of that,” Logan says, running his hands along the stone wall. “I’ll tell you this, though. They locked the door behind us, and there’s two guards at the bottom of the stairs.”

“But we don’t have guards! We’re pacifists!”

“They do not read like Air Nomads to me,” Logan says. “They appear to be Fire Nation, judged on their stances and breathing patterns.”

Before anyone can say anything further, Thomas makes an aggressive “shhhhh!” and beckons them over to the window. The moon, newly full, is only a few days into its waning gibbous phase, and the courtyard below them is illuminated enough to see Kya and the Fire Nation man Virgil had seen earlier.

“Can you bend their words to us?” Thomas mouths at Patton. Even though he looks miserable, Patton nods, stepping forward lightly. Kya opens her mouth, and Patton begins to bend.

“Are you sure this is what the Fire Lord requires?” Kya says. “We do not wish to participate in this war, Ruon-Jian. We would ask that he leave us be, in peace.”

“The Fire Lord wishes nothing more than to accommodate the wishes of his most trusted neighbors and trading partners,” Ruon-Jian says. His voice is silky smooth and oily, and Virgil hates him immediately. “He of course understands your cultural traditions, and he had nothing but the utmost respect for you and your people. He admires that you share a goal with him, to protect your people and promote their interests and well-being.”

“However?” Kya says, tiredly.

“However,” Ruon-Jian says, “there have been rumors of a plot to overthrow our most gracious Fire Lord. Conspiracies against him, originating from his own people. The traitorous Prince Roman has, of course, been exiled, as has his betrothed, and the cursed Prince Remus has been sent on a fool’s errand with the disgraced General Emile, but you can never be too careful. You can understand why the Fire Lord might wish to keep tabs on those he suspects may be involved in such . . . foolishness.”

“What do you want from me, Ruon-Jian? What will it take for you to leave us?”

“The Fire Lord requires a sign, Head Monk Kya. A token of goodwill, as it were. In order to spare you and your people, he must know that you are not conspiring against him. You are currently harboring traitors to the crown, including the Fire Lord’s most reviled offspring and the Avatar. These are dangerous insurgents.”

“I can handle them.”

“We do not doubt your capacities, but the Fire Lord would hate to foist the responsibility of punishing and detaining his fugitives onto our most honored neighbors.”

“They are children, Ruon-Jian. How much damage can they possibly do?”

“Enough,” Ruon-Jian says, and his voice drops sharply. “Do not underestimate the Avatar. Do not underestimate the Fire Lord. The terms of the agreement stand before you, Head Monk Kya. Turn over the fugitives to me, and the Fire Lord will spare your temple. Otherwise, you will be engulfed in flames like your Southern brethren. We wouldn’t want that, would -”

Patton drops to the ground as though his legs have given out from under him, tears spilling down his face. “No,” he whispers. “No, they - he - they can’t have - they - the Southern Air Temple? They can’t have -”

“I am so sorry,” Roman says softly. “I know my father, and I know that guy down there. He’s the most ruthless of Father’s generals. He brags about things like that, he wouldn’t lie. He - he probably did, Patton.”

Patton bites back a sob. “They . . .”

“Kya is going to sell us out in order to protect this temple,” Virgil says. “We can’t stay here and get captured, but we can’t let the Fire Nation attack this temple, either. We need a plan.”

“What kind of plan?”

“We’re going to have to draw the Fire Nation away from the temple. If we escape, they won’t blame Kya, especially since there are Fire Nation soldiers guarding us, and they’ll have to give chase.”

“We’ll need a plan,” Logan says. Virgil grins, sharp and wolfish.

*~*~*~*~*

Predictably, things rapidly go downhill.

They make it out of the Temple, but they’re pursued so tightly by Fire Nation soldiers that they can’t immediately circle back to Remy for fear of getting him captured. Instead, they divert into the forest, splitting up to avoid detection.

Virgil ends up pulling Thomas along, gripping the Avatar’s wrist and tearing through the trees. He’s not accustomed to forests, but he’s travelled glaciers and snowdrifts before. Dangerous terrain is no stranger to him. Thomas stumbles along blindly, tripping every few steps, but Virgil just pushes forward.

They stop dead in their tracks when they hear someone scream. It’s high and frantic, and it sounds an awful lot like -

“Logan,” Thomas says. His voice rumbles deep in his chest like an earthquake, and his eyes begin to glow blue.

“No!” Virgil hisses, slapping Thomas to snap him out of the Avatar state. “Sorry, sorry - but you can’t do that, you can’t! You’ll draw attention, and you don’t have control of that state yet! You won’t be able to survive, you’ll get captured and we’ll never get you back!”

“That’s my brother,” Thomas says plaintively. “That’s Logan, I - I have to protect him, I -”

“I know, Thomas. But we have to protect you, too. Come on, come on, I -”

Virgil pulls Thomas after him, tearing through the forest. He stops a good distance away from his best estimate of Logan’s location and instead begins to pull Thomas after him into a tree. “You stay here.”

“Wh -”

Virgil slams his hand over Thomas’s mouth, pointing to the ground. There’s a heavy thudding noise, like booted feet, and Fire Nation soldiers rush past the tree. Once he’s sure they’re gone, Virgil uncovers Thomas’s mouth. “Stay here. If they catch you, it’s all over. I’m gonna go after Lo and the others.”

“And what if they capture you?” Thomas says.

“They killed my father, Thomas. They took the only family I had left. It’s taken me this long to build another one, I’m not going to let them take it away again.” He hugs Thomas tightly, quickly, before he can change his mind. Thomas is surprised, but he squeezes back just as tightly.

“Save them,” Thomas whispers, voice wavering. “Please, Virge.”

“I will. I promise.”

*~*~*~*~*

“There’s no need to be difficult, Roman.”

Roman stands, frozen, staring at a man he thought he left behind. Ruon-Jian has the clearing surrounded with his men; his tone is level and soothing, like he’s speaking to a frightened animal or a rambunctious child, like he’s presenting the only logical option. His face gives him away.

One of his goons stands behind him, holding Logan tightly. His massive arm is like a vice grip around Logan’s fragile torso, and he has a controlled flame-knife pointed at Logan’s throat. He’s holding Logan up so that he can’t touch the earth, and they managed to tie him up somehow. Without his bending, he looks like a blind, scared kid, struggling weakly. Patton is on his back on the ground, a spear point pressed against his throat, arms and legs bound with ropes.

“Come with us, and I promise I will be lenient towards your friends. Why you choose to travel with children is beyond me, quite honestly. Then again, most of your choices are . . . beyond me.”

“How did you find me?” Roman asks. He knows he should be fighting, knows he should be bending right now, but he can’t. The fire inside him has turned to ice as he stares at his captured friends.

“Your brother is not known for his subtlety, Roman. It was no secret that he was sending messages on your hawk. All I had to do was track it, and the stupid bird led me right to you.”

This is all Roman’s fault. He’s gotten his new friends captured, and he’s going to get his brother killed. “What did you do to Remus?”

“Nothing, yet. For all his lunacy, he’s popular with the crew. But once I bring you and your friend the Avatar back as proof of his treachery, I will have enough support to stage a mutiny. Your brother will die at sea in a tragic accident, and I will be the Fire Lord’s right-hand general.”

“Never,” Roman croaks, but it’s a weak protest and Ruon-Jian knows it.

“You are no threat to me, princeling. I will end you and your brother, and your father does not care enough to stop it.” Roman knows that it’s true. He knows he has to get them out of this situation before they all get killed, but there’s nothing he can do. He makes eye contact with Patton, trying to convey his apologies through his eyes alone.

Patton shakes his head, mouths It’s okay before the soldier holding a spear to his throat kicks him, and Roman hates himself just a little more. Ruon-Jian holds up a rope, and Roman starts to lift his hands to be tied up, and then -

Creak.

There’s a rustling noise around them, too pronounced to be normal forest noises, and Ruon-Jian frowns. “Did you capture the Avatar and the Water Tribe brat yet?”

Two soldiers stumble into the clearing, carrying a third between them. Both of the standing soldiers have a knife sticking out of them somewhere, and the sagging soldier looks barely conscious.

“What happened?” Ruon-Jian snaps.

“It - out of nowhere, the trees -” one of them pants.

“Before we knew what hit us, there were knives, and - and they attacked Shoji with some kinda weird punches and he couldn’t bend anymore! He collapsed, we’re lucky we got outta there alive!”

“There’s no such thing!” Ruon-Jian protests. “You can’t take away someone’s bending!”

There’s a sharp whistling noise, and one of the Fire Nation soldiers cries out in alarm. A slender blade sticks out of his arm, and his eyes roll up in his head as he collapses. “Poison?!” Ruon-Jian hisses. More sharp whistles, and four more Fire Nation soldiers fall. Ruon-Jian snarls and thrusts his fist forward, vaporizing the blade that hurtles towards him.

“Show yourself!” he roars. “Do not hide in the trees like a coward!”

“Who are you calling a coward?” a voice snarks back; familiar, but also lower than Roman is accustomed to. “After all, I’m not the one who felt the need to attack children in the woods. You have, what, a teenager and a pre-teen tied up like prisoners of war? Did you really think you couldn’t handle them? God, you’re pathetic.”

“Come down here and fight me like a man, then!” Ruon-Jian challenges.

“If I can defeat your minions so easily, what makes me think you’re any more of a challenge?” the voice taunts. “You’re not so bad.”

“Prove it!”

The trees all rustle at once. If Roman strains, he can faintly hear the lightest of footsteps and grunts as something leaps from tree to tree. Knives appear out of nowhere, and a soldier screams as one pierces clean through his hand. There’s a gleaming ribbon attached to the hilt, and it gets yanked back before anyone can process what’s happened.

“No match for me,” the voice lilts. “Too bad, so sad.”

Ruon-Jian screams and thrusts his arms out, creating a fireball that he hurls at the nearest tree. He keeps screaming as he burns all the trees surrounding the clearing, and Roman cowers down to avoid a serious burn.

“Where are you now, without your precious tree shelter to protect you?!” Ruon-Jian shrieks. “You’re nothing!”

“Oh, I wouldn’t say that,” the voice says. A shadow steps forward from the wreck of the forest, knife glinting in the moonlight as they hold it between two fingers.

Virgil steps into the clearing, and Roman gasps a little. He can’t help himself. Ruon-Jian stares at him, and then he laughs.

“Another child? Pathetic.”

“I’ve taken down too many soldiers for you to call me that,” Virgil says coolly. “Also, destroying the forest? Not cool, asshat. The spirits are gonna beat your ass.”

“Spirits?!” Ruon-Jian snarls. “What can a spirit do to me?”

“Count yourself lucky that you won’t find out tonight,” Virgil says, “because I’m dishing out justice on their behalf tonight.”

“Where is the Avatar?”

“Safe from people like you,” Virgil says. “I disabled your soldier’s bending, and you think I’m not the biggest threat in this clearing?”

“You are a child!”

“So are the benders you have tied like dogs,” Virgil says. He looks angrier than Roman has ever seen him. “Let them go, and let Roman go too. Don’t think I won’t fuck you up.”

“What can you possibly do to me?”

Virgil spins a cord rapidly, and the knife on the end gleams. “You sound scared. Fine by me. Send your minions to fight me if you’re so scared. I’ll take them down and then I’ll come for your pansy ass.”

Ruon-Jian snaps his fingers and three Fire Nation soldiers step in front of him. He retreats to the edge of the clearing with the soldiers holding Logan and Patton, and Roman steps back as well. Virgil’s eyes gleam as he steps forward.

Roman sees the cord wrapped tightly around Virgil’s wrist as he throws one of the knives. It sticks in the shoulder of a soldier, who cries out in pain. Another soldier throws a burst of fire at the cord while it’s still stretched out across the clearing, and Roman winces, sure that Virgil is about to lose a weapon.

Instead, he smirks, yanking the cord and pulling the knife free. “What, did you think that I was going to fight a crew of Fire Nation soldiers and not use my fireproof weapons? Morons.”

Roman quickly realizes that Virgil has far more of an upper hand than he thought. He has a knife-on-a-string in each hand, and he wields them with terrifying efficacy. He spins the knives and uses them to keep the soldiers a good distance from his body. They retaliate with fire, but Virgil just evades them almost effortlessly with an impressive display of gymnastics.

“Stop playing around and kill him!” Ruon-Jian shrieks, presumably to his own men. Virgil rolls his shoulders back and grins.

“Great idea, idiot. I should stop playing, shouldn’t I?”

His knives disappear into his clothes and he runs straight towards the nearest soldier. They shout in surprise, and Virgil shifts to a stance that’s strangely similar to earth bending. He narrows his eyes and tilts his head slightly to the left and lays out a series of jabs, one-two-three-four-five, quick and staccato like Roman’s terrified heartbeat. The soldier wheezes in shock and collapses to the ground in front of Virgil.

“Use your fire bending! Set him ablaze!”

“I - I can’t,” the soldier says, “My bending - something happened, I can’t - I - it’s gone!”

Virgil grins, cracks his knuckles, and bares his teeth.

“Who’s next, motherfuckers?”

*~*~*~*~*

It’s short work after that, disposing of the soldiers.

The leader, that slimy Ruon-Jian, gets away, but Virgil does manage to disarm the rest of his men. He does his best to only use non-lethal combat tactics, but when he gets to the men that had tied up and hurt Logan and Patton . . .

Well, it’s not his fault if a knife ends up in their exposed throats.

It’s short work to slice through Patton’s binds, and he hugs Virgil fiercely the second he’s free. “That was so scary,” Patton breathes. “I thought they were gonna kill us - I thought they were gonna kill you -”

“Am I forgiven for swearing?” Virgil teases. Something wet seeps into his shoulder.

“Yeah, Virge, you’re forgiven.”

Logan is practically mummified in ropes on the ground, but he hasn’t made a single move to free himself. He just lays there, catatonic, and for a moment Virgil worries he’s been injured. “Lo?” Logan flinches, tears spilling down his face. “Hey, buddy, it’s me. It’s Virgil. Can I cut you free?”

Logan nods. “T - Thomas?” he rasps.

“I hid him before I came,” Virgil says. “We’ll go back and get him, Lo, I promise. Let me get you out of these . . .”

Logan stands up once he’s been cut free, stumbling forward one, two, three steps before collapsing. Virgil catches him, quickly sweeping him up into his arms. “Whoa! Are your legs sore from the ropes?”

“Y . . . yes.”

“Okay. I gotcha. Come on, I got you, you’re safe. I’ll take you to Thomas, okay?”

Logan tucks his head into Virgil’s shoulder, breathing shakily. Virgil presses his face into Logan’s hair reassuringly and politely ignores the way his shirt becomes damp.

*~*~*~*~*

Thomas throws himself out of the tree the minute he hears Virgil call to him. “Where’s my brother?! Logan, what happened?!”

Logan has been still and silent since Virgil cut him free, but now he shifts and reaches for Thomas, hands opening and closing rapidly in a childish gesture he would normally never use. Thomas pulls him into a tight hug, and Logan’s breath hitches as he sobs into Thomas’s neck. Patton presses his face against Thomas’s shoulder, and Virgil smiles.

“I’m sorry,” Roman murmurs. Virgil turns, confused.

“What? Why?”

“I froze. If I’d fought back, if I’d done - something, maybe - maybe this wouldn’t have happened. Ruon-Jian was right. I am a coward. I couldn’t stand up to my father for Dee and Remus, I couldn’t stand up to Ruon-Jian to save Logan and Patton, I . . .”

“You are not a coward,” Virgil says firmly. “You’re a victim of shitty circumstances and a shitty upbringing. Doesn’t make you any less of a person. It’s not your fault you were conditioned into this.”

“That would have been me,” Roman says. “If Father hadn’t threatened Remus and Dee . . . It would have been me.”

“But it wasn’t,” Virgil says. “And I refuse to believe that you would have stepped onto a battlefield full of innocents and decided to kill them. You’ve got a conscience, Princey, and you’ve got a good heart. You’ll be okay.”

Roman smiles, just a little, and touches Virgil’s shoulder. “Thanks, Vee.”

“No problem, Roman. What are friends for?”

“Are you finally admitting we’re friends?” Roman probably meant to be teasing, but his voice quivers. Virgil smiles softly, leaning forward and bumping his head against Roman’s cheek.

“Yeah, Ro. We’re friends.”

*~*~*~*~*

They make it back to Remy, waiting in his cave with Dragon. Roman writes a quick letter filling Remus and Dolos in on what happened, telling them not to reply and begging them to take care of Dragon, before sending the hawk off. Patton climbs onto Remy’s head, and they fly away.

Logan is huddled up against Thomas’s side, face blank. “Lo,” Thomas coos, “are you okay?”

Logan doesn’t speak, tucking himself more closely against Thomas. “Go to sleep, okay? I’ll keep you safe.” Eventually, Logan’s eyes slide shut, and Thomas exhales heavily.

“Has he ever done that before?”

“Once. After we escaped our home village, when it was on fire. He just . . . shut down. He’s never been good at dealing with emotions, so he doesn’t deal with them at all.”

“Not healthy,” Patton says from Remy’s head.

“You’re telling me. But I can’t force him to talk about his feelings. He deserves to work through things at his own pace.”

“I can respect that,” Virgil interjects, “but that kinda implies that he’s dealing with his feelings, doesn’t it?”

Thomas pulls Logan into his lap and shifts so his brother is cuddled against his chest. Logan exhales softly, mouth open in a little “O” as he breathes. He’s never looked younger than he does right now, except for maybe when he’d been tied up by Fire Nation soldiers.

“I have to take care of him. It’s my job. He’s the only family I have left.”

“The only blood you have left,” Virgil says. “Don’t think for a second that he’s your only family.”

“Who else do we have?” Thomas whispers.

“Me, obviously. And Ro, and Pat. You have us now.”

“He’s tellin’ th’tr’th,” Logan mumbles sleepily. “Don’eed bendin’ f’r that.” Thomas smiles at Virgil, watery and honest, and Virgil smiles back. It might be ragtag, but it’s his family, and anyone who threatens it has him to answer to.

#starshinewrites #avatar!au #thomas sanders #virgil sanders #roman sanders #logan sanders #patton sanders

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thestanceyg · 3 years

Text

Darcyland Drabble Race the Second

So here’s my contribution to another drabble race. Again under the cut because there’s a LOT.

Quantum 1 “Oh my god,” Jane said, flopping down on to the couch next to her. “I had forgotten this show was even a thing.”

“It’s my stay home from school sick comfort show,” Darcy said as she pulled her blanket tighter around her. The chills she was experiencing were no joke.

“Man, I wonder how the creators of Quantum Leap feel now? Like…that tech kinda actually exists, even if it’s classified.”

“I don’t think they know about it Jane,” Darcy said with a fond roll of her eyes. “You know, on account of it being classified and all.”

2 “The fuck does this word mean?” her dumbass lab partner asked.

“Which word?” she asked with a put upon sigh.

“Quantum,” he said, pointing to literally the first question.

“Thor wept,” she muttered under her breath before turning to him more fully. “Here,” she said, pointing back to the textbook. “Definition’s right here. I’ll even read it to you. A discrete quantity of energy proportional in magnitude to the frequency of the radiation it represents.”

“No need to be a bitch about it.”

She idly wondered if killing him was a possibility. “Sure sure,” she said, sugary sweet. “Since I’m such a bitch, don’t worry about me helping again.”

3 “I don’t think the quantum physics work that way,” Fitz said with a tilt of his head as he looked at the projection.

“I mean, I didn’t either,” Darcy agreed, joining him, “but I also don’t doubt our modeling software. Something’s happening here that’s unexpected, and that means either we have something wrong, or there’s something we have yet to figure out that’s acting on everything.”

“You know what that means?” he said with a smile.

“More research dates,” she said before kissing the tip of his nose.

“Can’t wait,” he said before claiming her lips.

4 “Quantum Laser Tag is the best!” she yelled, highly offended. “I can’t believe you just besmirched it’s good name!”

“Err, all I said was that laser tag was kinda lame.”

“It is not!” she practically whined. “Okay, dude, maybe you’ve not had good laser tag experiences, but I have to say that does not mean you get to shit on literally the greatest arena in at least the tristate area.”

“You’re…really passionate about this,” he said giving her a look she couldn’t decipher.

“So is this your way of bowing out of our first date?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Hell no,” he said, smiling.

5 “I’m just saying, that the names at this bar are not scientifically accurate,” she complained.

“Jane. Literally none of us give a shit. We are here to get shitfaced and giggle over our jobs being somehow alcohol themed,” Darcy reprimanded her.

“I’m definitely having a Quantum Blast,” Helen said, sidling up to the bar.

“Really?” Darcy said giving her a disgusted look. “I mean…there’s something about adding the word ‘blast’ to it that turns me off from it.”

“Fair,” Helen agreed. “But it has triple sec in it and I’m in the mood.”

Darcy tilted her head in acknowledgment of the wisdom.

6 “I promise to never play with the quantum field again if we can just get out of this alive,” Darcy said more to herself than anyone else.

“What?” Scott asked.

“Just promising myself to try and stick to my field in the future should I survive whatever this is.” She gestured to the everything around them that really defied understanding.

Scott nodded. “I wish I could make a similar vow, but it’s kinda my field now. Though this,” he looked around a bit, “is indeed disconcerting. I could, err, try to make it up to you when we get out of here.”

“Are you asking me on a date?”

“Yes?”

7 “Nope. Not happening. I will not be teaching quantum physics as my teaching assignment next semester. It’s not my field. I would have to do my own research just to feel like I was giving the students an adequate course,” she said as soon as the department head had offered her the schedule.

“Well you don’t have a lot of options here. You’re still a candidate and not a post doc so you don’t get to argue with me really.”

“This is some serious bullshit,” Darcy groaned. “But seriously, Johnson would be way better at this. He even has done research in this field.”

“Yes well…”

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Darcy groaned. “You’re doing him a favor and I’m the one that has to deal with the consequences?”

Nebula 1 “And if you look here,” the professor droned on as he used his laser pointer, “you can see a nebula that is starting to die.”

“Kinda like me in this class,” she muttered under her breath. The guy next to her laughed, but covered it with a cough. She looked at him and winked, and he honest to Thor blushed. Well damn if that wasn’t the cutest thing that she’d ever seen.

She grabbed a scrap of paper and wrote her name on it and slid it over to him.

He read it and smiled a bit and wrote back.

Fitz. Nice name. She couldn’t wait to be screaming it later.

2 Nebula was very murderous and Darcy kinda loved her for it. It seemed like there was a lot of deep seated anger that the woman was ready and willing to take out on anyone and everyone. You had to love her unapologetic rage. Darcy couldn’t help but admire how she didn’t give a shit if someone thought it made her less attractive because anyone dumb enough to voice that sentiment would probably end up with a knife in them. Was it wrong that she was a little turned on?

That thought made her come up short.

Shit. She didn’t have time for a crush.

3 The fabric technically had nebulas all over it, though the fabric name had the word galaxy. In the grand scheme of things it really didn’t matter, but it annoyed her for some reason. It seemed that all sorts of little things were bothering her lately, and she couldn’t find the reason. Why should she care that she had “galaxy fabric” that was actually nebula fabric? She would make the damn pillow covers and then she could tell her friends it was nebula print. Giving up caffeine had been a bad idea. It made her crabby. She should probably reconsider her idea to stop drinking coffee.

4 Nebula Swirl was possibly the best flavor of ice cream she had ever eaten, and it was looking like she would only be able to eat it for one more month if something drastic didn’t happen. She took her cone and snapped a picture and posted it to Instagram with the tag SaveGalacticCones. Maybe someone would see it and drop some cash their way. It wasn’t their fault that the freak storm had damaged the property and left them paying off heavy repair bills. They deserved to thrive, if for no other reason than it was the ice cream of her youth and she had so little to remember her childhood by.

5 “I don’t research in the Horseshoe Nebula,” she said with a frustrated sigh. “In fact, I don’t even look within a million light years of there. So please explain to me in very small words why you think your project should get any of my grant money.”

“Because I need to fund my research Dr. Witherow said. “It’s as simple as that. I need more funding and you just won a lot of money. There’s no way you’ll need all of it, so umbrella my study under your project and we’ll both win.”

“No, dude, we won’t ‘both win.’ That grant is actually just one of three for my project because it doesn’t cover everything.” Thor save her from entitled scientists.

6 “It looks kind a like a nebula” Jane said as she looked at the giant bruise on Darcy’s hip.

“I guess that’s fitting because the pain is out of this world,” Darcy tried to joke. It didn’t quite come off as carefree as she had hoped, but that was possibly because she was an hour out from her next pain pill and the current one seemed to have mostly worn off.

“Darce,” Jane said with a bit of warning in her voice. “You’re going to let me coddle you because that’s what I need. I think you do too.”

Darcy sighed. “I know.”

7 A burst of nebula like light flashed before her eyes as the hit landed.

She didn’t pass out, but it was a near thing.

“You will do what we want, Dr. Lewis!” the man spit at her.

“No. I won’t,” she argued. “And you hit like a little kid.”

The man’s face turned a red she didn’t realize was possible before he backhanded her, hitting the already blooming bruise from the earlier punch. “I think you will change your mind.”

“I’d rather die.”

“That can be arranged,” he sneered.

“I doubt it,” she countered. “You need me too much. And if you keep hitting my head, it’ll be that much longer before I’m even capable of doing what you ask.”

Vortex 1 Of course it was a solar vortex. Or, at least that’s what she was calling this abomination in her mind. She wasn’t sure what else to call what appeared to be a tornado of sunlight that was leaving a path of fire and destruction behind it. Why couldn’t normal things happen to her?

She would have to blame Jane. Shit like this never happened to her before New Mexico.

Of course, it could also be that this kind of madness would still happen to her even if she had never been an intern, but blaming Jane felt familiar. That woman definitely owed her ice cream for changing her life like this.

2 “It’s not a vortex” Dr. Strange said, the pinched look on his face clearly telling him what he thought of Darcy and her inability to call it whatever name he had given his portal thingy. She knew it wasn’t a vortex. It was just fun to razz him and see him get annoyed.

He was kinda cute when he was annoyed.

Well, he was kinda cute regardless, but his cuteness was focused on her whenever he was annoyed because 99% of the time it was her fault.

It wasn’t healthy, but it was working so she’d deal with the mental health implications later.

3 “I promise you that’s not a tornado,” she said to her storm chasing boyfriend. “I know it looks like one, but, very unfortunately for the entire town of Lawton, it’s actually an anomaly called a temporal vortex.”

“What does that mean, Darcy?” he yelled over the roar of the storm.

“It means that if we don’t get out of the path of that thing we’ll end up in an alternate reality that may or may not include a breathable atmosphere.”

“Right,” he said, his hands tightening on the steering wheel. “I’d like to live to have another date so one storm evasion coming up.”

4 “It’s called The Vortex,” Helen said reverently as she placed what Darcy thought was a fishbowl on the table. It had six straws sticking out of it.

“Why?” Pepper asked, looking at the drink cautiously.

Helen shrugged. “Does it matter? What matters is it tastes like sunshine and amaretto and goes down easy and will get you shitfaced if that’s what you want.”

Jane grabbed a straw and took a long slurp. “I need to get shitfaced and Helen isn’t wrong. I don’t care what’s in the Vortex. It can be made of baby souls and I will keep drinking it. It’s a fucking delight in my mouth.”

5 “I am sick of the Polar Vortex and it’s technically only been here for three hours,” Darcy said as she cuddled more into the blankets and tried to burrow even further into the warmth of her boyfriend.

“I’m not exactly excited about it either,” he agreed, “but at least it means we have guaranteed time together. That’s been a rare occurrence lately.”

Darcy nodded and debated it it was worth getting her arm out of the blanket to grab her hot chocolate.

“Darce?” he asked.

She turned to look at him. His eyes were soft. “I love you.”

Her breath stopped. He hadn’t said that before. Maybe the Polar Vortex wasn’t that bad.

6 “Sedona is weird,” Spencer said with a frown.

“Are you talking about the vortices?” she asked.

“I am,” he said, studying the map they had been given at the little tourism station. “I just. I can’t believe people believe in this stuff.”

“Ehh,” she said. “There’s a lot of shit I wouldn’t have believed in before it happened to me. You know, like Asgardians and such.”

“Maybe,” he agreed with pursed lips.

She pointed to a spot on the map. “Look, that one’s on a trail. We said we were going to do some hiking, so we’ll go there and treat it scientifically.”

He perked up just like she knew he would. “Sounds like a plan,” he said with a kiss to her cheek.

7 “I am a vortex of emotion,” she said before throwing herself on the couch.

Pepper handed her a glass of white wine. “What happened today?”

“He’s just so cute,” she practically whined. “And he has no idea that literally every time I’m talking to him I’m trying to flirt. I swear I used to be good at it.”

“Perhaps Bruce is ignoring it?”

Darcy shook her head. “I don’t think so, but I also hate that idea. Please don’t ever say that again. How can I live if he doesn’t like me back?”

“Do I just attract drama queens, or is there something special about you and Tony?”

Darcy gasped. “How dare you think I’m not special. You take that back!”

Supernova 1 “Why are you listening to Oasis on repeat?” Jane asked as she walked into Darcy’s apartment.

“Not Oasis,” Helen corrected, “Champagne Supernova.”

“Oh, Darcy. No hon.” Jane threw her purse on a chair and went to the kitchen and started going through the freezer. “Okay, here’s the plan,” she said as she came back into the living room. “I am going to make us some very alcoholic fruit slushies, you are going to move on from Oasis to some 90s Alanis, and then you are going to tell us what happened.”

Jane disappeared back into the kitchen and Helen looked at Darcy.

“And then we plot revenge,” she added.

2 “I promise you there was never a Gusher flavor called Supernova Blast. That wasn’t a thing. You need to stop trying to convince me it was. I might be dumb, but I am not that gullible.”

“Aww, babe! Who said you were dumb! I’ll be happy to knock some sense into them.

“Darce, that’s not the point,” Peter said with a whine. “The point is you cannot make me believe it.”

Darcy turned her laptop to show him the Google Image search with Supernova Blast gushers.

“Your reality is so flippin’ weird,” he said as he stared at the screen.

3 “It’s, like, more than a nova. It’s a SUPER nova.”

Darcy just stared at the man in front of her. This was the last time she allowed Clint to set her up on a blind date.

“Riiight,” she said. “Ummm, I’m sorry, but I need to go to the bathroom. Be right back,” she said as she grabbed her purse and praised the heavens that she hadn’t brought a coat too.

She grabbed a waitress as soon as she was out of his line of sight. “Hi, I need to escape a bad date and I will pay you $40 to let me out a back door.”

The waitress grabbed the money. “Done.”

4 “And next up is Supernova!” the announcer roared. Darce waved to the crowd as her name was called. She hadn’t expected to love roller derby as much as she did, but it truly was a life saver. The team was amazing, it allowed for stress relief, and it was something that was just hers. No being in Jane’s academic shadow. No being in her brother’s professional musician shadow. No shadows. Just Darcy.

As they set up for the first jam she looked up to the crowd and saw some signs with her name on them. She had never felt more alive.

5 “Excuse me?” the man at the counter said, “Are you really telling me that you’ve never heard of the Supernovas?”

Darcy gritted her teeth. “Honestly, dude, it doesn’t matter if I have or not. What I asked was whether or not you had any Aquabats.”

“But I can’t let you listen to that when you could be listening to the Supernovas.”

“I think you are missing what exactly your role is here. I came here looking specifically for a present for my brother, and I came to you to help me with it. In exchange, you should be telling me whether or not you have it, not making me want to leave because you won’t stop forcing your terrible bands on me.”

He stared at her in annoyance.

6 She imagined that this was what it must feel like at the center of a supernova. She had never felt so warm and alive and bursting. His simple confession wasn’t something she had ever expected, but it knocked the ice off her heart and had made her realize that she loved him too. She loved him in a consuming way that she hoped would eventually burn down to warm contentment and not eat them alive, but she couldn’t deny that his love had changed her and she could never go back to not knowing how this felt.

7 “You can’t use the supernova attack in this setting!” Steve said.

“I don't’ see why,” Darcy argued. “What’s stopping me?”

“Because that’s not how it’s supposed to be used.”

Darcy made a tsking noise at him. “Stevey, you can’t say that you want to follow the spirit of things here. You knew I was the type of person to always argue I was technically inside of the rules to do crazy shit when you asked me to join your game. So you either let me cast this or you kill me so I can go play with people that enjoy my unorthodox approach.”

“Fine,” he sighed. “Roll please.”

#darcylanddrabblerace #revengers

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ice-bjorn · 4 years

Text

The Wounds We Share

Based off a speculative post I made a little while back: x

Upheaval, it seemed, was becoming a natural state in Arendelle.

As with the Great Thaw three years previous, it took a few weeks for things in the kingdom to settle once more- though this time there were no princes bent on regicide to deal with, or foreign dignitaries to pacify (or sever ties with). There was however, much in the way of paperwork and scheduling and announcements that needed to be made- while one queen stepped back for the moment, and another stepped forward to lead in her place.

And, just as it was with the winter storm that swept through the middle of summer on the queen’s coronation, the citizens quickly took to naming this narrowly avoided supernatural catastrophe. Elsa overheard everything from: ‘The Great Flood that Wasn’t’ to ‘The Breaking of The Dam’ and even- ‘That Time The Queen Unwittingly Set Off Another Magical Event’.

The last one made her cringe, but she certainly couldn’t deny it was true. Frankly it was a miracle that Arendelle was as populated as it was, considering the amount of otherworldly disturbances that had occurred in such a short time.

At least no one could say it was boring to live in their little kingdom.

However, unlike the aftermath of the Great Thaw, Elsa found a thread of her attention diverted elsewhere. Before, when she could focus all of herself on Anna and their reunion after so many agonizing years apart, now there was something else needling her thoughts, beckoning her scrutiny.

As preparations were hastily being made for Anna to assume her role as reigning queen, Elsa found herself ducking out in spare moments, summoning the Nokk to ride out across the waves, cherishing peaceful moments in the bracingly crisp sea-salt air. Sometimes, without realizing it, Elsa discovered that she (or perhaps the Nokk) had steered them towards the lonely glacier- that cold, austere beacon in the Dark Sea.

She came to understand that the spirits, and by extension Ahtohallan (though the will of the glacier was still difficult to parse), desired that Elsa should spend more time in the North, learning and communing with the unique forces that inhabited the land. Land that was strange, yet felt as though it ought to be familiar, as part of their mother’s heritage.

Anna was…hesitant at first, when Elsa mentioned spending more time away from Arendelle, away from her. Elsa herself had misgivings, after all- was there really a need for her to live in the North when she was already a short (water horse) ride away? Surely the spirits didn’t need her to function- they seemed perfectly capable and self sufficient without her interference. But, Elsa reasoned- this was also the chance to experience something different, to learn new things, and- if nothing else, she had a voracious appetite for knowledge. It was an opportunity to meet new people and experience their mother’s birthplace.

It was an opportunity, Elsa told herself, not a vocation which required her permanent relocation; ultimately her will was her own, spirits or no.

So, as they neared the third week after the events at the dam, Elsa began spending a day or two at a time in the North. Yelena was gracious enough to offer her a place in their camp among the Northuldra- somewhere to rest her head after days spent wandering the great expanse.

The primary focus of her curiosity and thirst for insight was Ahtohallan. What exactly were the limits of that primordial place, and what would it be willing to show her? Was there anything she could not ask of it?

She began by testing the glacier with requests for simple memories- Anna’s first birthday, the last Christmas they’d had all together, their mother reading them a bedtime story. Little things that were happy, if bittersweet; nothing that would sting too sharply to revisit.

When all these things were provided for her, Elsa moved on to more recent events. There was one in particular that had been lurking in the back of her mind- one that, if she were being honest with herself, should really be a conversation with another participant, not part of some voyeuristic exercise. Elsa knew that she and Anna still had things to talk about, heavy, important things, but in all the recent commotion, there hadn’t seemed an appropriate moment to broach everything that needed saying.

It wasn’t that they weren’t going to talk- of course they would. But, in the mean time…

Surely she could spare Anna the burden of recounting everything, she thought, crowding out the sliver of guilt that told her she wasn’t being as altruistic as she’d like to make herself believe. She let curiosity drown out the small voice that said maybe she shouldn’t ask to see this, that maybe, it wasn’t so harmless a request.

Elsa stood in the center of the ancient crystalline cavern and let her eyes drift closed, conjuring her question- and the desire for answers in her mind. She pictured the last glimpse of light before her world went dark, her last thought -Anna- before there were no more. And then after, when she’d regained consciousness for a moment during the fall- hitting the water below and knocking all the breath from her body- darkness eclipsing her vision once more as the sea claimed her.

Elsa shook her head, pulling back from that moment, focusing on the void between.

What had happened while she was frozen?

With the command firmly in her mind, her eyes flashed open.

“Show me,” she called out.

Slowly particles of snow and magic rose from the floor, swirling in a vortex of powder, higher and higher in an enormous cloud - until with a burst it dissipated, and shapes of sculpted snow gradually revealed themselves. Elsa stepped closer, cautiously skirting the edge of the scene until she was face to face with-

“Anna,” she breathed.

Suddenly, the recreation of Olaf began to speak- both figures coming slowly to life, gaining momentum as Elsa observed them.

“I see a way out,” he said, pointing up into the distance.

Elsa watched the bleached image of her sister and Olaf wander through outcroppings of rock, following behind as they rounded a corner- catching herself as she nearly bumped into the snowman.

She listened as they spoke to one another- speculating about Elsa and how she was fairing on her journey- and her heart began to sink in overwhelming dread.

“Anna, I’m sorry. You’re gonna have to do this next part on your own, okay?”

Elsa pressed a trembling hand hard over her mouth, stifling a choked gasp as her eyes stung with sudden tears.

She knew of course that Olaf had disintegrated once she’d been completely frozen- she’d felt what was left of him and the lingering essence of her magic after she had thawed. But this...

Watching as he flaked away piece by piece in front of Anna.

Oh Olaf.

Oh,

Anna.

Elsa’s vision blurred as Anna gathered their snowman into her arms, tears spilling silently as her sister whispered, “I love you.”

She sobbed and her legs buckled; Elsa sank to her knees, joining the ghost of Anna on the floor as she grasped the ordinary pieces that were left of Olaf, putting them carefully into her satchel with shaking hands and breathless tears.

She followed Anna as she curled against the rocky wall, hugging the bag to her chest desperately as she wept. Elsa sat, tucking her legs under her, mirroring the grief that stained the snowy cheeks of her sister’s image. She leaned against the wall of hard packed snow, reaching out an unsteady hand, unable to resist offering comfort -even to a memory long past. Elsa brushed the back of her fingers across a cold cheek- though the face before her did not register the touch, she couldn’t stop herself trying.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I’m so sorry.”

She stayed there with Anna, for what could have been hours, yet felt like a single endless moment of sorrow, in which she struggled to breathe around the weight of her heart, heavy as a stone in her chest.

When Anna at last began to stumble to her feet, Elsa exhaled raggedly, expelling a sliver of the pressure from around her ribs.

“Enough,” she commanded with a wave of her hand, her voice thick and rough. The image of Anna flurried away, leaving Elsa alone in the cavern once more.

She pushed herself up on shaking legs, weighed down by her sister’s grief. Wiping a hand under her eyes, she cleared the last of the dampness from her face, sagging against the wall behind her. Elsa shut her eyes, gathering herself with a few deep, steadying breaths. She pursed her lips and whistled, calling on the bond she had with the water spirit, summoning the Nokk from the depths of the Dark Sea.

After a moment an echoing whinny sounded from the tunnels beyond, and the guardian trotted out to her. The spirit bent its watery head, nudging Elsa’s face gently. She lifted a hand to the Nokk’s muzzle, stroking a hand along its cheek, letting her magic frost the great horse over.

The Nokk nickered softly at her and Elsa smiled. “Thank you my friend,” she looked up into opaque, glowing eyes.

“Take me home.”

“Anna?” Elsa called softly through the door, just barely rapping her knuckles against the wood.

After a moment of silence she eased the door open, slipping inside and shutting it soundlessly behind her.

“Elsa?”

She turned as Anna propped herself up groggily, rubbing at an eye with her fist. Her sister reached over and adjusted the oil lamp on the bedside table; the small flame climbed higher, illuminating tousled hair and a confused smile as she squinted at Elsa.

Elsa blinked; the stark contrast between her very real, vibrant sister before her- and the snowy vision she had just spent the better part of the night with jarring her off center. She was suddenly very aware of the fact that she’d been crying for hours and had now barged in on Anna after racing across the sea in the dead of night.

She plucked at her fingers, wringing her hands.

“I...um, I’m sorry I know it’s late- early- I just... I -missed you,” she finished clumsily, uncharacteristically tongue tied. She couldn’t just blindside Anna with what she had seen in Ahtohallan after waking her like this.

Anna stared back at her owlishly and Elsa floundered, at a loss.

“Sorry, I should go- you should sleep, I’ll come back-“ Elsa motioned behind her at the door, already backing up and feeling quite embarrassed.

“Elsa,” Anna interrupted her, shaking off some of her groggy haze and throwing back the covers. “Get in here.”

Elsa smiled, relieved and grateful to have been spared her awkward exit. She made her way to the bed, slipping under the covers and curling into her sister’s sleepy warmth, leaning her head on Anna’s shoulder. Anna grabbed her hand, interweaving their fingers. She stifled a yawn, only just.

“You know you can see me whenever you want Elsa, you don’t need an invitation.”

“I know- I’m just, sorry about the time, I wasn’t thinking.”

Anna wiggled herself deeper into the bed, sinking back against her pillow. “S’okay. As long as you don’t mind if I happen to doze off for a bit?”

Elsa breathed a laugh into her sister’s shoulder. “Go ahead.”

She found herself selfishly relieved to have a few peaceful moments by Anna’s side, their inevitable conversation put off just a little bit longer.

Elsa felt Anna drift off- her head falling against hers with a quiet snore. She smiled to herself, brushing a thumb over Anna’s knuckles.

After another hour or so Anna began to fidget beside her, inhaling deeply as she stretched herself awake.

“Hey sleeping beauty.”

Anna wiped the sleep from her eyes and grinned at Elsa. “Hey.”

Her voice was still charmingly rough from slumber. Elsa straightened a few wayward copper locks- the ones that always seemed to escape wildly while Anna slept- and swept her fingers through her bangs.

Anna pushed herself up, fluffing the pillows behind her for support before leaning back with a yawn. She let herself fall slightly into Elsa’s shoulder, giving their clasped hands a little double squeeze.

They sat there in comfortable silence, enjoying each other’s presence in the predawn gloom, cozy in the heat and diffused light from the crackling fire.

Anna cleared her throat quietly.

“You know,” she fussed with Elsa’s fingers, doing her best to sound casual, “you don’t have to stay there in the North, you can come back, if you want to. You will always be a queen in Arendelle.”

“I know,” Elsa brought her free hand up to lift Anna’s chin. “But first... first I want Arendelle- and the world, to see how incredible you are as queen. I want them all to see how well you lead, how brightly you shine,” she slid her fingers along the top of Anna’s cheekbone, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “The way I do.”

Anna blushed and ducked her chin, pleased.

Elsa cocked her head, catching her sister’s eye, “It’s not forever.”

Anna looked back at her, nodding silently after a moment.

“Besides, there are still some things I have to learn from the spirits, and Ahtohallan. I’d like to spend some time with the Northuldra- learn more about them and mother’s family. You could join me sometime?” she offered.

“I’d like that.”

Anna rested her head on Elsa’s shoulder with a sigh.

Elsa focused her attention on their hands, brushing her thumb over Anna’s knuckles anxiously, knowing she needed to start the conversation she was really here for.

“You know... no matter where I am- where we are- Olaf was right… my love will always remain with you.”

Anna went ridged beside her. There was a moment of unbearable stillness, then-

“Elsa... how do you... know about that?”

She swallowed.

“I was… in Ahtohallan, and I thought I would ask it to show me a memory. I’ve been practicing, trying to understand the limits of that place and how it all works. There’s been a gap in my memory- everything that happened when you were saving Arendelle, saving me. I…I asked to see it.”

“…why didn’t you just ask me?”

Her brow drew inward, more guilt creeping in, hearing the hurt in Anna’s voice.

“There’s been so much going on and I was going to ask you- going to talk about this- but I didn’t think…,” she trailed off. Elsa wasn’t sure what she would’ve done if she'd known exactly how painful, how devastating it would be before she had asked for the memory. Would she have come straight to Anna- or would she have forced herself to watch anyway? Either way- that little voice in the back of her mind reproached her- she should’ve known better, and she should have given Anna the chance to tell her. “I didn’t think, I’m sorry.”

They sat, tense beside each other in the pregnant silence, avoidant gazes fixed on the bedspread.

“Elsa... you didn’t even, you didn’t even say goodbye. You promised me,” Anna gripped her hand, a little too hard, though Elsa didn’t protest. “And then you sent us away. Even Olaf...Olaf was angry Elsa.”

Elsa sat upright, turning back to look at her.

“Olaf? He was...angry?” she asked in a small voice.

Anna pressed her lips together, clenching her teeth against the memory of that moment.

“Yes. So was I,” she said, her eyes trained on her lap.

Elsa hung her head.

“Anna I’m so sorry,” she whispered thickly. Elsa swallowed, looking out the window, unable to meet her eyes.

She licked her lips.

“Mother and father,” she trailed off, brow furrowing deeply. “They died because of me. I don’t mean-“ she raised a hand before Anna could interrupt her, “that it was my... fault.”

It almost sounded convincing, though Anna knew it would be a long time yet before Elsa believed in her heart of hearts that it wasn’t.

“But they did leave to find answers about my powers, why I am the way I am. They couldn’t cross the dark sea; they... didn’t have magic.

I know how strong you are, how brave and determined, and resilient, but...I don’t think the spirits would have let anyone else near Ahtohallan. It was difficult enough for me, even with my powers...,” Elsa’s gaze grew distant, remembering the way the Nokk had tossed her through the dark sea, wrenching her around brutally like a rag doll, nearly drowning her.

She thought of Anna in her place- the water spirit pushing her into the deep... trapped at the bottom of the dark ocean under its hooves, no magic she could call upon to save her. Elsa’s heart spasmed painfully and she shook her head, clearing the ghastly image away.

“To let you walk by my side into that, when we had just seen mama and papa’s last moments in that awful sea, I just couldn’t,” Elsa’s eyes spilled over with tears. “You have every right to be angry with me, for as long as you want, but I couldn’t lose you a third time because of me, because of my magic.”

Elsa stared down at their hands while her sister remained silent. Anna’s fingers shifted, flexing, and for a terrifying moment Elsa thought she might let go, but she only readjusted her grip and took a deep breath.

“Whether it was right in the end or not, you took that choice from us Elsa. I know... I know that’s how you’ve always done things- you push me away to protect me. It’s second nature, I get that. But you don’t know how it feels being on the other side of it. Having the person you love most push you away,” Anna paused, swallowing roughly. “And then running, by herself, straight into the danger that killed our parents.”

Her jaw worked as she fought her rising emotions.

“And then Olaf was gone, you were gone... I was all alone,” her voice broke. She looked at Elsa as her eyes welled. The word unspoken hung in the silence between them like a hammer waiting to fall:

Again.

Elsa bowed low over their clasped hands, her body curling as if from a physical blow. Silver blonde hair fell in a curtain around her, like a shroud; her forehead pressed into the back of Anna’s hand.

Anna felt her sister’s tears against her skin, anointing their hands with her remorse. Each drop that fell another sharp nick that cut at her heart. Slender, pale shoulders began to shake; Anna held Elsa’s hand tight, fighting the desperate urge to pull her into her arms.

They shared the same pain. They would always share the same pain. But as much as it killed her to see Elsa suffer, knowing how prone her sister was to self recrimination, she needed her to see the damage her choice had wrought.

That her actions had opened Anna up to the darkness she had never before felt so viscerally. That even for the briefest of moments her life had stretched out interminably before her without Elsa in it. That she had been forced to imagine somehow going on with her heart missing.

Now they both knew and would carry their matching wounds, and eventually, scars. The intimate knowledge of loss shadowing their hearts, dormant but always lurking, like the sudden flair of an old injury long healed.

“I didn’t even know what had happened to you. All I knew was you were out there alone somewhere, and you were- that you had-”

Anna stuttered as the grief finally overwhelmed her, heavy and unstoppable, searing her throat as she tried in vain to hold it back.

“Elsa I thought you were dead,” she sobbed, crumpling under its weight now that it was spoken.

Elsa surged forward, wrapping her arms around Anna, drawing her tightly against her. They sunk back into the bed, Anna’s face pressed to the crook of her sister’s neck, clawing at Elsa’s back for purchase like a drowning woman grappling a life preserver.

She felt the void creep near again- that life without Elsa in it- the poisonous fear reaching infectious tendrils out to wrap around her heart. Anna crushed her closer, as if she might fuse them together, Elsa’s physical presence and their connection warding off the awful future that could have been but wasn’t, yet loomed over Anna for all that it had been briefly real.

She wept soundlessly, drawing breath in great shuddering gasps. Elsa hung on, her own tears slipping down silently into Anna’s hair.

They held each other as the anguish slowly subsided, battered hearts wrung through with exhaustion; sharing the same breath, existing in the stillness after the storm.

Elsa rested her chin atop Anna’s head, skating her nails lightly across her shoulder.

“What happened when I was... gone…,” she started quietly, breaking the heavy silence. Anna’s hands fisted in the fabric at the small of her back.

“I know what it felt like, that day. I know what you felt when you...on the fjord...”

“What do you mean?” Anna mumbled into her shoulder. Her eyes felt raw and puffy, her head full of wool. She was so tired.

“You were right, about Ahtohallan; I went too far. Mother wasn’t quite right though- I didn’t drown, I... froze.”

“Wait, what?” Anna murmured, pulling back to look at her sister incredulously. “You...but how?”

“I’m not sure. I suppose... because Ahtohallan is the source of my magic?” Elsa shrugged, shaking her head. “I don’t know. Unfortunately getting answers there isn’t always a straight forward experience,” Elsa’s gaze grew distant as the memory flashed through her body. “But now I know what’s it’s like to feel... cold.”

Elsa’s voice was haunted; Anna rubbed her hands up and down her sister’s back, as if she could chase away the memory of that terminal chill. How awful, Anna thought, for Elsa to be on the receiving end of her magic, to have it turned against her that way. She knew how dark and empty it was, how painfully the ice burned.

“I’m sorry you had to experience that.”

Elsa looked at her, gaze sorrowful and piercing with regret, and Anna knew she wasn’t thinking about her own death.

I’m sorry you experienced that, because of me.

Anna shook her head, dismissing her sister’s long absolved guilt. It wasn’t necessary to revisit that, certainly not now.

“Just... don’t you dare say we’re even now,” Anna sniffled, her voice wobbling.

Elsa shook her head and held Anna closer.

The sun had finally begun its morning ascent, and Anna’s now over sensitive eyes squinted against the light filtering in. Elsa extricated herself and slipped off the bed, crossing to the window to shut the curtains.

Anna pushed herself up sluggishly, swinging her legs over the bed, watching her.

Elsa turned, a hand still gripping the curtain. She observed Anna silently.

Stepping back towards the bed, the full, translucent panels of her dress fluttered around her as she knelt at Anna’s feet. Elsa took Anna’s hands in hers, contemplating them for a moment before she spoke.

“I have been an irresponsible steward of the love you’ve given me.”

She brushed her thumbs back and forth over Anna’s knuckles.

“I thought that because I have powers I could put myself in harms way to keep you safe. That as long as you lived, it didn’t matter what happened to me... you’ve always mattered more to me than my own life Anna,” she squeezed her sister’s hands when they twitched. “It’s true. I don’t think that will ever change,” she smiled ruefully.

“But, living that way, making the choices I have- that’s only ever hurt us both. I can’t promise I’ll be perfect, or that I still won’t make mistakes but... I realize now; that has to change.”

Elsa looked up at Anna. “I’m so sorry for what I’ve put you through in my ignorance,” she whispered.

Anna drew in a shuddering breath, tugging at Elsa’s hands until she was on her feet. Wrapping arms around her waist, she leaned her cheek against Elsa’s breast, sighing at the steady thump beneath her ear. A moment later she felt a cool hand on the back of her neck and another softly combing through her hair.

“Well, you know,” she said weakly, “I’m not exactly perfect either.”

“I’m not so sure,” Elsa murmured, placing a kiss to the crown of her head.

Anna snorted quietly, shaking her head against her sister’s chest. She gave Elsa’s waist a squeeze.

“I love you.”

Elsa brushed her thumb softly over Anna’s cheek.

“I love you too.”

She gently guided Anna’s face back so she could look at her. “But as much as I love you, I think now I desperately need sleep. What do you think?”

“Oh god, yes please.”

Elsa chuckled.

While Anna settled back beneath the covers, she placed another log on the fire, now blazing warmly in the hearth near the bed. Winter was upon them, and while the natural cold still did not affect her, Elsa was now more acutely aware than ever of the little ways the weather could impact those around her.

She slipped into bed, opening her arms as Anna sought her out, curling against her.

“Comfortable?”

Anna mumbled something affirmative into her shoulder.

“Warm enough?”

Again, she received a muffled hum.

Elsa fought a smile, and before she could resist, she lowered the temperature of her feet, nudging them against Anna’s bare ankles.

Anna yelped, kicking her feet away, tangling her legs in the sheets as she tried to avoid suddenly icy skin. Elsa bit her lip, trying not to laugh as she banished the cold and her body regained its natural heat. Anna tapped her foot against her sister’s skittishly, making sure they weren’t freezing. She eyed her suspiciously before scootching back in with a huff. Elsa grinned sheepishly.

“Just making sure you were paying attention.”

Anna gave her a sleepy glare, spoiling the effect with an adorable pout.

“Don’t get cheeky, I’ll order you to the stocks.”

“We don’t have stocks Anna.”

“Well then I’ll have some made,” she grumbled, burrowing her face into Elsa’s clavicle. “I’m the queen, I can do what I want.”

Elsa dropped a kiss to the top of Anna’s head. “Of course, your majesty.”

“That’s more like it,” Anna smirked, snuggling into Elsa’s warmth. “Now as your queen I command you to stop stalling and go back to sleep.”

She felt Elsa’s quiet laughter, her ribs shaking beneath Anna’s arms.

“Careful you don’t let all that power go to your head. You might have an uprising on your hands, ordering people about like that.”

“Hah! I happen to know powerful magic people who would crush any uprising should the need arise.”

Elsa propped herself up on her elbow, observing her sister- eyes closed with haughty expression on her face.

“Is that so?”

“Mhmm. It is so.”

Elsa smirked and raised an eyebrow. “And what if I choose not to help you oppress the poor people of Arendelle?”

“Who says I meant you? Maybe I was talking about the trolls.”

After a beat of silence she cracked an eye open to look at Elsa.

“Don’t make me use this,” Elsa held up her pinky threateningly. Anna went cross eyed as the digit inched closer to her nose, then batted it away with a giggle.

“Stop that. Seriously, we should rest- there’s still a full day waiting, as you well know.”

Elsa hummed thoughtfully. “True. But I also know that a queen has the ability to rearrange her schedule- within reason,” she added, seeing the mischievous look on Anna’s face. “I may have already let Kai know you’d probably have a late start and to shift anything pressing to this afternoon- or tomorrow if at all possible. I’ll help you with any paperwork you need to make up,” Elsa paused, grimacing a little. “Sorry, I hope that was alright- I should have asked.”

Anna beamed and squeezed her tight, until Elsa let out a soft wheeze.

“Have I ever told you you’re the best?”

Elsa looked down at her fondly, tracing the line of Anna’s nose with a finger.

“I’ve had an excellent teacher.”

#frozen 2 #snow sisters #elsanna #elsa #anna #my fic #we all know they need to Talk #perhaps it would have played out something like this #who knows #these girls need so much therapy #poor things #pssst #vuelie #i finally finished it #lol hopefully you like how it turned out

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lettersinscarlet · 5 years

Text

Overnight Gone Wrong (Colby Brock Imagine)

Okay, so I’d been toying with this idea for awhile and I finally just caved and decided to do it. I’m trying to be more active this break and get some stuff done for you guys! Sorry my schedule is *ahem* nonexistent but thank you for sticking with me! Anyway, my requests are still open for Sam, Colby, and Jake so you can send them in! Hope you guy enjoy!

——————————————————————————

“Whats up guys? It’s Colby and today, I’m doing something dangerous,” he announced with a spooky voice. “From my earlier video, I stayed in Sam’s apartment without him knowing, and it was a success, except for me getting out. THIS time, I have an escape route and all my supplies I need, except for snacks. I really have no good food in my house,” Colby remarked with a sigh. “Oh, and if you didn’t know, I’m going to be staying in my girlfriend’s apartment. I’m going to store my stuff in the closet and I’m going to start getting ready.”

Colby turned off the camera and then he loaded his stuff into his car and started the drive to your place. He had a key to get in and he was able to stash his stuff in your closet. He checked his phone and saw that it was close to the time that you would be getting home. He quickly threw himself in the closet and shut the door, moments before you opened the front door. He knew that you didn’t have too many plans tonight because he had checked in advance.

You walked in and you set your stuff down near the door. You liked your job, but you were really tired and wanted to go home. You went first to your room to change into some comfy clothes and then you came back down to the kitchen. You checked the time and it was 5:45, so you decided that you were going to start dinner. You could’ve ordered food in, but you decided to be spontaneous and cook.

It took everything Colby had in him to night chuckle when you started humming your “cooking song.” Sometimes, when you cooked, you would start to hum this random tune and it always made Colby smile.

While you were cooking, you decided that you would FaceTime your best friend, Kat. She didn’t have anything going on that night and you wanted someone to talk to. You would’ve called Colby, but he said that he was going to be doing something with Jake tonight and you didn’t want to bother him and interrupt his “bro time.”

Kat answered after two rings.

“Wassup, girlfriend!” Kat shouted when the call connected.

“Wassup,” you chuckled back. “On today’s episode of (Y/N)’s Kitchen, we are making pasta!” you announced to her. She laughed and then you guys talked about your days.

“Where’s Colby?” Kat asked when you guys had a quiet moment.

“He’s out with Jake,” you sighed. Kat snickered and you looked at her and waited for her to explain.

“You guys are just so cute and you missing him is adorable,” she answered. A slight blush rose to your cheeks as you started thinking about your boyfriend.

“He’s just so sweet,” you started, and Kat hummed as she waited for more details. “Like just the other day, he bought me flowers for no reason. Just said that he was thinking about me. He writes me little notes on the mirror while I’m taking a shower about how he loves me or that he finds me beautiful. When he takes me out, he always makes me feel so special. He just makes me feel so...” you trailed off, trying to find the word, “whole.”

Colby wanted to jump out of the closet and hug you right there. He wanted to wrap his arms around you and kiss you all over. But he forced himself to stay in the closet. He wanted to finish what he started.

Your timer went off and you saw that your food was done. You showed Kat and then you said your goodbyes before you hung up. You got your food and you tried to make it look super fancy. When it looked somewhat satisfactory, you took a picture and you started eating. You sent the picture to Colby.

“Missing you! Maybe I’ll save some for you when you come over tomorrow, considering you’ll probably be eating something you found on the side of the road for dinner...”

Colby opened his phone and smirked. Luckily, he had turned his ringer off before hand.

“I miss you too. And that looks delicious,” he replied.

You chuckled to yourself and then sighed.

“See you tomorrow. Be safe and I love you!” you sent. Colby smiled at your message.

“I love you too.”

You closed your phone and then started to eat your pasta and to be honest, it was pretty good. If only you had thought to make garlic bread to go with it.

When you finished, you packed up your leftovers, putting a sticky note saying “For Colby” before you put it in the fridge. You then grabbed your speaker and decided to jam out.

Colby couldn’t help but chuckle while he was hiding out. Typically, he thought your singing was actually pretty good, no matter how much you insisted it was bad. But this was a different type of singing. This was your I-don’t-care-who’s-listening type of singing and it made him smile. He could just picture you doing your dance moves while you rocked out to your music.

After you listened to your music, you decided to shower. When you got out, you went to your living room and you surfed through Netflix, trying to find something to watch. You finally found something that looked interesting to you, so you snuggled up in a blanket and clicked play.

Colby, luckily, had prepared for this situation so he found his earbuds and started watching Netflix on his phone. He wasn’t too worried about battery percentage, considering he had a portable charger.

Somehow, you had drifted away into the timeless vortex of binge watching, so when you checked your phone for the time, it was around 12:30. You had gotten up earlier than usual for work that day and you were pretty tired. You gathered your things and went to your room. After you were ready to go to sleep, you texted Colby to stay safe and that you were heading to bed with tons of hearts and kisses. He had grinned when he received it and sent you a goodnight text as well with almost double the amount of hearts and kisses. You had a warm smile on your face when you plugged up your phone and closed your eyes to sleep.

Colby waited about 15 minutes before he stood up in the closet and stretched. He was preparing himself to go out. Almonds really were terrible snacks and that food you had been cooking earlier smelled absolutely delicious.

Carefully, Colby cracked opened the door and listened for any sounds of movement. Sometimes, it took you awhile to settle down to sleep. Colby confirmed that there were no sounds and quietly, he stepped out into the hall. He walked and cringed at the sounds of his feet on the hard wood. He didn’t think that you would hear it, so he proceeded with caution into the kitchen, camera in hand.

When he arrived at his destination, he set the camera down on the counter and gripped the handle on the refrigerator. He made faces at the camera as he pulled open the door and it made some noise. He found the leftovers he was looking for and set them on the counter near the camera. The bag opened with a small popping noise and he looked around and listened for footsteps. Nothing happened, so he dished out the food, closed the bag, and as gently as possible, closed the refrigerator door. Colby opened the microwave and cursed at the loud noise it made when he closed it. The number buttons beeped terribly loud and Colby froze. Still, you were asleep. He turned it on and the microwave whirred to life, heating up the food.

It was the buzzing of the microwave that woke you up. The rhythmic hum was enough to stir you out of your sleep. With wide eyes, you sat up in your bed and looked around. Quietly, you got up and walked out your door and down the stairs. Someone was there, in the dark, with their back turned to you. You crept close to the counter and grabbed the first thing you could find, which happened to be a rolling pin. This surprised you, because you had no clue that you even owned a rolling pin.

You tiptoed closer to the figure and just when you got close enough, they started to turn around. As they turned, you rated back and swung as hard as you could and hit the person in the side with your pin.

“OW!” the person screamed. You went to swing again but you paused. You knew that scream.

“Colby?” you asked incredulously. You went over to your wall and flipped the switch. Colby was standing near the microwave, clutching his side. Your hands flew to your face as you rushed over to your boyfriend. “Oh my gosh I’m so sorry are you okay?”

Colby started laughing and then wincing when it hurt.

“What’s so funny?” you asked as you examined his side.

“You attacked me with a rolling pin,” he started laughing.

“Why were you even here?”

“Remember that thing I did to Sam when I stayed in his apartment without him knowing?” You nodded and he continued. “I was trying to do it to you. I don’t know how you didn’t wake up earlier because I was being so loud.”

“You really are an idiot, Brock,” you said and kissed his cheek.

“Now that you’ve injured me, can I maybe sleep in your room instead of the hall closet?” he asked and looked at the floor.

“Of course you can. Now I’ve got to cuddle my baby back to health,” you said with a smile. You grabbed his hand and tugged him up to your room. Before you got to it, you stopped and ran back to the kitchen, grabbing the rolling pin. When you got back, Colby quirked an eyebrow at you.

“What? It’s a good weapon against criminals that break in to microwave leftover pasta,” you said with a smirk. Colby just shook his head at you before crawling in the bed and opening his arms for you. You crawled in next to him and snuggled in close to him. He kissed the top of your head before whispering something to you.

“Just so you know, I heard what you told Kat earlier, and I love you so much and I just wanted to remind you how amazing you are.”

You smiled against him before getting even closer to him.

“You’re even more amazing but thank you for the reminders they are greatly appreciated.”

“I love you,” he whispered.

“I love you, too,” you responded before you closed your eyes and drifted off to sleep.

———

Taglist:

@sp00kybrock @yikes-xander @daddydobrock @trapbrock-local @thenameisbabe @far-to-many-bands @lyssaholic @wacky-webber-458 @colbysbaby @katiaw2 @brocks-girl @chesterbenningtonaremylife

#colby x reader #colby brock x reader #colby brock fanfiction #colby brock fanfic #colby brock imagine #colby brock #colby fanfic #colby imagine #colby #colby fanfiction #imagine #x reader #fanfic #fanfiction

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thedeevirus · 4 years

Note

Sugar daddy AU, except the opposite of what people normally do. Edward is the rich, older man and Oswald is the young boyfriend.

Professor Ed Nygma is set up with a ‘sugar baby’ by his Gotham U colleague Professor Kristen Kringle but things don’t go according to plan…

Added to Nygmobblepot Ficlets on AO3

Hope you enjoy! But no prizes for knowing which song they’re playing on the piano LOL

***

‘Eddie?’

‘Huh?’

Ed flicked the whistling kettle off and Kristen obligingly repeated what he had missed.

‘I said, “I’m really sorry the date with Isabella didn’t work out”’.

Ed shrugged offhandedly as he sat beside Kristen on his couch. The weekly ritual of ‘Tuesday Tea Time’ after work at his apartment was somehow cleansing after the uncomfortable atmosphere of the previous evening. It had been the latest in a long line of blind dates Kristen had arranged for him. One of the only aspects of cold comfort was that it had been far from the worst one. Another was that his attempts at romance had, so far, stayed out of the vortex of campus gossip.

‘Me too’, Ed said, offering her a cookie, ‘It was just too weird’.

Kristen dunked the cookie in her tea, shaking her head.

‘Yeah, maybe not the best week for my darling sister to experiment with red hair dye or forget her contact lenses’. She held up the gingerbread man,nodded in approval at the creamy afro she had given it and bit its head off. ‘Unless she did it on purpose to mess with you. Wouldn’t be the first time come to think of it’.

‘Funny, she never mentioned that’.

‘Does she really wear it better? Be honest’.

‘Wait, you’re not a natural redhead?’ Ed said, hand held to his chest, aghast, ‘What other dark secrets are you hiding from me Professor Kringle?’

‘Very funny Professor Nygma’, Kristen said, chomping down hard on the cookie’s disembodied legs.

‘Anyway’, Ed said, ‘How are you doing on the romance front?’

‘Um, good’, Kristen smiled conspiratorially.

Ed raised an eyebrow and Kristen flashed an ‘ok’ sign with her fingers.

‘Very good actually’, she said with a cheeky wink.

‘Intriguing’, Ed smirked, ‘Anyone I know?’

‘Nope but he did have a friend I thought would be perfect for you’.

‘Really? Right now I’d settle for someone to take an extra concert ticket off my hands’.

‘I’m really sure this time! Can feel it in my gut!’

Ed laughed at Kristen’s sudden fervour.

‘Okay, okay!’ he said, resigning himself to yet another of Kristen’s attempts at matchmaking, ‘What are they like?’

‘You’ll see’.

‘Wait what’s that supposed to m-?’

The sound of the doorbell interrupted his sentence.

‘Oh jeepers look at the time!’ Kristen suddenly cried.

‘Kristen?’ Ed asked, instantly realising the doorbell and Kristen hastily grabbing her bag were connected, ‘What’s going on?’

‘Nothing Eddie! I’m just dandy! Just need to head home and,uh…’

‘Think of an excuse for why you’re suddenly rushing out of my apartment?’ Ed deadpanned.

‘Exactly!’ she said brightly, pulling on her coat, ‘I’ll see you in the cafeteria tomorrow as usual breakfast buddy! Bye!’

She opened the front door and swept into the hallway like a tornado. Ed went to the door and was able to overhear a few seconds of barely audible conversation on the other side before he opened it. A young man dressed in a smart black suit was waiting outside, hand raised as if prepared to knock. To his credit, he recovered well.

‘Hello Mr Nygma’, the young man said, ‘My name is Oswald. I believe you’re expecting me?’

Ed, suddenly confronted with Kristen’s latest machination straight out of the 50’s sitcoms she enjoyed, decided he would also attempt a good recovery.

‘I suppose so’, he smiled and opened the door wide, ‘Please, come in’.

Oswald entered the apartment and Ed closed the door behind him.

‘Can I get you something to drink or…?’ Ed began but trailed off when he turned around.

Oswald was undoing his bow tie and licking his lips.

‘No thank you’, he said breathlessly, ‘B-but I would love something to…eat’.

As Oswald approached, hips swaying suggestively, Ed backed up against the door. Not out of fear but utter disbelief. When his supposedly massive intellect failed to provide him with a counter strategy to Oswald advancing on his position, he simply went to the source.

‘What are you doing?’ he asked.

Oswald halted, brow furrowed. Ed relaxed, about to proceed with followup enquiries but Oswald’s confusion did not last long.

‘Oh?’ Oswald said, lustful expression slipping effortlessly back onto his face, ‘Would you prefer things this way?’

He took hold of Ed’s limp hands and fixed them to his shirt. He abruptly pulled his arms apart, causing the shirt to tear open. Ed was begrudgingly impressed that not a single button popped off.

‘Heck yes I would’, Ed bluffed, moving his hands to Oswald’s shoulders.

Oswald’s eyes darted to Ed’s hands and now Ed was sure. Oswald’s demeanour was a front. He didn’t want to be here any more than Ed had been expecting him. But then why was he here by Kristen’s invitation?

‘Then…give it to me. R-right now!’

Ed bit back a laugh. What Oswald had intended as an order had come out sounding more like a child throwing a tantrum. It was oddly endearing how hard he was trying to be someone he wasn’t. Ed could sympathise with the smokescreen.

‘Give it to you?’ Ed asked, ‘Is that what you want? Really?’

‘It’s all I want’, Oswald begged, half-hooded eyelids fluttering, ‘Please, please, give it to me. Please. Please’.

Ed held up a hand to silence the increasingly frantic litany of ‘pleases’. It was time to put them both out of their collective misery.

‘You’re not gonna blink are you?’ Ed sighed.

‘Y-you mean close my eyes?’

‘No. Come on, let’s have some tea. And button your shirt’.

‘I am so embarrassed right now’.

Oswald’s head rose from where it had been resting in his hands to nod gratefully for the mug of tea Ed was offering.

‘Nothing to be embarrassed about’, Ed said reassuringly, pouring milk into his own cup, ‘I really was tempted for a minute. It’s, uh, been a while. I just didn’t realise Kristen knew that. Humbling’.

He cleared his throat as he sat down at the kitchen table, across from Oswald.

‘So what stopped you?’ Oswald asked.

‘How uncomfortable you were’.

Oswald rubbed the back of his head, discomfited. Ed offered him one of the gingerbread cookies as consolation. Oswald took it and dunked it head first. Ed wondered if Kirsten chose all of his prospective romantic partners by comparing how they dunked their cookies compared to her.

‘I’m really sorry for wasting your time’, Oswald sighed.

‘Don’t worry, you’re not. We may as well use the time Kristen paid you for. She saw your ad in the library?’

‘The agency’s got them up all over Gotham U’s campus. Prime recruitment ground’.

‘I never noticed’.

‘Think we’ve established you weren’t looking’.

‘Do you always come on that strong to clients?’

‘Actually, it’s, uh, my first day. I work as a waiter and a friend told me being a sugar baby was a good way to make extra cash’.

‘A what?’

‘You heard the first time’, Oswald sighed, eyes closing resignedly.

‘Like a-’ Ed halted for a second until he found an appropriately polite turn of phrase. ’-‘companion’ for hire?’

‘People hire them…us for all kinds of things’, Oswald shrugged, ‘Your friend Ms Kringle called and said to make you ‘feel special’ so I tried my best’.

‘Not into men?’

Oswald’s fingers drummed on the sides of his cup.

‘Not into anything actually. I thought it would be an advantage. That it would make the ‘hard core’ stuff easier but it didn’t. Not that you’re not aesthetically pleasing!’

‘Thanks’, Ed chuckled, waving a hand to show he was not offended.

‘No, thank you’, Oswald said sincerely, ‘I’ll refund this session when I get home. I don’t think I’m cut out for this line of work’.

‘Why?’ Ed said gently, ‘I’m getting exactly what I needed’.

‘But…we’re just talking’.

‘Kirsten’s an excellent lecturer in Library Sciences, an even better friend (albeit an overconfident matchmaker) but she’s always so busy and we don’t have the same hobbies. That’s great, don’t get me wrong, it’s good that people are different but sometimes I would just like to share my more intimate interests with someone’.

‘I thought this was going too well’, Oswald said with mock apprehension, ‘This is when you show me your sex dungeon, isn’t it?’

Ed burst out laughing. Oswald was proving to be full of surprises.

‘Much more mundane than that’, Ed said, ‘Not that you’ll be disappointed at the lack of one. Do you play video games?’

‘Not many’, Oswald admitted, ‘They’re an expensive habit’.

Ed indicated the piano against the far wall and asked, ‘What about music?’

Oswald sat down and pressed a key with one long finger.

‘My mother taught me but I’m a bit out of practice’.

Ed sat beside him, positioned both hands over the keys and began to play one of the tunes scheduled for the concert that weekend. After only a few notes, Oswald nodded in recognition.

‘I actually know this one’.

‘Jump in whenever you like’, Ed invited.

Oswald obliged immediately and Ed’s jaw dropped at the nimble harmony joining his own. He had never played with anyone before and as Oswald began to softly sing along, he thought he could get used to doing it more often.

‘It’s hard to let it go…’

Oswald trailed off as their fingers brushed against each other. Ed swallowed at the way Oswald’s pale cheeks coloured beneath his glass green eyes. Ed slowly stopped playing, letting the song come to an organic end as Oswald clasped both hands in his lap thoughtfully. It was strange. Oswald was a little older than his university students but sometimes he could seem so vulnerable.

‘You’re not that much out of practice’, Ed said.

‘You teach music?’ Oswald asked.

‘Forensic science. Very different ivories’.

He swelled with pride when the joke got a genuine laugh from Oswald. All it usually got was bemused confusion or ‘dadjoke’ groans from his students. It was so nice to see him relaxed. Ed’s eyes drifted to the tickets resting on top of the piano and, emboldened by how well things were going on this ‘not date’, he made the offer.

‘Do you feel like taking in a concert this weekend?’ Ed asked, ‘It’s the Gotham Symphony. On the clock of course’.

‘You mean it?’

‘I insist on it. Meet me here at six and I’ll include dinner before we head out, sound good?’

Oswald sniffed hard.

‘Dinner and a show sounds great Mr Nygma’, he replied.

‘Please, call me Ed’.

‘The customer’s always right, Ed’.

#nygmobblepot #nygmobblepot ficlet #edward nygma #Oswald Cobblepot #sugar daddy au

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