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drawlfoy · 4 years

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Wonders of Ohio - P.7

masterlist (catch up with the series here!)

request guidelines (yes i am taking them!)

pairing: draco x reader

request: no! this is my original idea

summary: american high school senior is in for a surprise when her family takes on a foreign exchange student with a mysterious past.

warnings: teen drinking, mentions of an armed robbery, language, a brief hospital visit, and descriptions of illness

a/n: hey. so. this is definitely where stuff starts to go down. thanks so much for waiting...i have so many more things planned for this series and i’m thrilled to see it come together the way that it is right now. thank you very much for reading and thank you for your patience!

taglist: @gruffle1 @missmulti @cleopatera @hahaboop @accio-rogers @geeksareunique @eltanin-malfoy @war-sword @cams-lynn @itsivyberry @ayo-cowbelly @nerd-domland @yesnerdsblog @shizarianathania @evanstanfanatic @strawberriesonsummer @hariosborn @night-ving @straightzoinked @imintoodeeptostop @icintliviinyiniilsiji @erisdogwood @loveissupernatural

word count: 6k

song recs:

murders - miracle musical

pink in the night - mitski

always, forever - cults

ice dance - ashton gleckman

enjoy!

Y/N should’ve felt cold when she awoke on the wet pavement. Despite a figure looming over her and blocking out most of the rain, the back of her neck and body was drenched in the cool water from the puddle to her right. It was easily in the mid 40s at this point in the evening, something that would ordinarily make her toes curl and her figure tremble, but it felt...different.

She felt like her insides had been scorched, like she’d downed an entire pitcher of boiling hot water. Every movement she made hurt--right down to wiggling her fingertips and her eyes. Her body was exhausted. If she hadn’t known any better, she would’ve thought that she’d just finished running a marathon in hell.

“Can you hear me?” A posh British voice cut through her musings as the figure above her came into focus.

Draco.

“Yeah. Was there a fire?” Her words left her throat painfully, scratching their way up her vocal chords.

“Er...what do you remember?”

She squeezed her eyes shut. The memories of the night slowly began trickling back--she’d done Draco’s tie, told him to watch his drink, argued with Chad about how funny he was, and walked to...Oh, yeah. The antique store. The box. The stars inside of her.

She flinched. “I fainted. I’m sorry. That was really stupid of me.”

“What?” Draco shifted back, the light from the front of the antique store catching his face. There were lines in his forehead that she’d never seen before. “Why?”

“I didn’t eat enough today,” said Y/N. Speaking was starting to feel less and less like lighting her trachea on fire. “I was really nervous and I lost my appetite. I’m an easy fainter.”

He cleared his throat. “Er, okay. Yeah. That was it. Anyways, we have to get home. You need to, uh, eat.”

“Okay.”

Y/N allowed herself to be hauled up onto her feet, swaying slightly once her full weight was on her feet. Her sense of gravity felt like it had been loosened. With every step, she felt pulled to the ground from a different part of her core.

“Steady. Don’t fall.” By some miracle, once Draco’s hands were gently guiding her shoulders, she was able to make her way to the backseat of Heather’s car before she collapsed.

“Where are we going?” asked Y/N. Despite no longer feeling like she was near death, her head was still cloudy.

“Home,” was all Draco said as he slid in on the other side of the car.

She didn’t bother putting on her seatbelt--she still felt like she was about to keel over--and rested her head on the car window. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Draco open the passenger car door for a moment, pause, shut it, and instead tug open the door across from her and slide in.

“How are you feeling?” he asked.

“My insides feel like they’re on fire.” Y/N winced as she tried to shift and get the weight off of her neck. “I think I’m sick.”

“No shit, Sherlock,” said Heather from the front, her eyes catching Y/N’s from the mirror. “You were just laying down in the middle of a rainstorm. Go home and take some Zi-cam or something, jesus.”

Y/N tried to chuckle in response, but it came out as a sorry squeak instead. No one made a move to further comment on the evening’s events as Heather pulled onto the freeway and began to gain speed. The sudden lurches and changes of speed in the car set Y/N’s stomach into a churning frenzy, her head growing light again.

“Draco.”

Her voice was so soft it was hardly audible--the syllables jumbled together on her lips in a quiet mess--but he immediately snapped to attention.

“What is it?”

She took a deep breath. “I think I’m going to be sick.”

“For the love of god, at least try and hold it until we get off the freeway.”

“Shut up, Heather,” said Draco. Y/N couldn’t help but feel the slightest twinge of satisfaction as he rolled his eyes and turned his attention back on her. “Is it the motion? Are you sick from that?”

“I don’t know,” she managed.

He sighed. “Helpful.”

“Dick.”

Draco frowned at her, but she could see the slightest twinkle of amusement in his eye. “Can you move into the middle seat for me? Do you need help?”

Once Y/N had scooted over from her side, he leaned away from her and pointed up to the sunroof above them. “Go ahead and count all the lights that you can see in the sky. I promise it’ll make you feel better. Just keep your head pointed up.”

She tilted her head back. The night sky was largely gloomy, but the flickering lights of the planes that dove in and out of clouds provided some glowing dots. As she counted, Heather hit the fog strips and nearly threw her back into her original seat. She felt a warm hand wrap around her wrist and gently grip, the long fingers completely encircling it.

Y/N blinked. The nausea was gone. “What are you, a sorcerer or something?” she joked, not expecting to see Draco so frozen at the comment. “Kidding. I just feel better already. Thank you.”

He nodded and turned away to look out the window. His soft grip on her hand was long gone, and Y/N took Heather’s slightly uncoordinated driving as a cue to slide back into her seat and buckle up.

“If you really need to puke,” said Heather, “I have a Target bag back somewhere under the passenger seat. Please avoid the seats. They’re authentic vegan leather.”

“I don’t think that’s a thing.”

“Just don’t throw up, okay?”

Y/N was in Art History when it happened. The chills began, so intense and teeth-chattering that her teacher took one look at her and sent her immediately to the nurse. Sylvia offered to walk her, but she was only allowed to under the condition that she avoid all physical contact with her and sanitized each surface that Y/N touched. It was a wonder she made it to the first floor office--each step felt heavier than the last, and from the beginning she felt moments from simply passing out.

A temperature check revealed that she had a mild fever--100.3 F, to be exact--and a call home resulted in her mother’s full voicemail box and the remembrance that her parents were out for the week.

“Can someone else drive you?” Nurse Hazelwood asked as she stepped away to douse her hands in hand sanitizer. “I don’t think you should get yourself home in this state.”

After some deliberation, it was decided that Sylvia would take her home and call someone for a ride back. It was a bit overkill--but she didn’t know what else to do.

“And can you make sure Draco has a ride home today?” Y/N asked as they pulled into the driveway of the Y/L/N home.

“Stop stressing so much, dude.” Sylvia took the keys out of the ignition to give her an expectant look. “You’re sick. Go inside and make some soup or something. I’m sure your boyfriend will figure it out.”

“Now I really am gonna be sick,” said Y/N as she rolled her eyes.

The rest of her afternoon was a blur. Y/N tried to force down some chicken soup, but it took all her might to keep it from coming right back up. It was safe to say her appetite was gone.

After a failed attempt at walking up the stairs to crawl into bed, she collapsed onto the couch. The last thing she remembered was the sound of footsteps outside the front door.

Y/N hadn’t been to the hospital since she had to get stitches in middle school. Then, all she did was lie back in the chair and try to shut her eyes as the needle wove in and out of her torn thigh (bad bike accident, in case anyone was curious). But now was different.

Her eyes hurt to open, like someone had thrown soap in them and the very line where her two lids met were lined with knives. Everything inside of her was on fire--a manic, all-consuming fire that made it impossible for her to keep anything down.

The nurses and doctors were no help--not like Y/N actually had her eyes long enough to see any of them--but their voices were enough to let her know what was going on.

“Fever of 104--”

“Can’t keep anything down--”

“Severely dehydrated--”

“Tested negative for everything we tried--”

“Never seen anything like this before--”

“No viruses were detected--”

“Not mono--”

As she wove in and out of consciousness, one fact stuck in her mind: I think I might die here. Something is very wrong.

When she did dream, images of the box she picked up plagued her mind. The symbol, etched lightly into the black top, glowed menacingly in her hands. Open it, open it something around her urged, but no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t.

It was during one of these dreams that her world suddenly shifted back to her hospital room. She was suspended above her body, looking down at the tangle of IVs and various other wires that imprisoned her...but she wasn’t alone.

The dim lighting and darkness outside confirmed her suspicion that it was indeed late at night. A figure, tall and slim, was sitting to her left. It was whispering something unintelligible as it gently took her hand and squeezed.

If Y/N could scream, she would’ve. The sudden pull back to her body was so strong that she was yanked across the room so she just barely hovered over her corporeal form. She could feel a grip, steady and firm, wrapped around her hand as a rush of cool ran through her. Each breath, each pulse, each heartbeat pulled her back to herself. It felt like a bucket of water had been poured over--into--her, extinguishing the flames that were eating away the inside of her.

The figure’s whispering finally came to an end as she settled back into her physical body. Before she drifted off to a peaceful slumber, a familiar voice rose above the quiet whispers.

“I’m sorry.”

“Y/N!”

Her eyes shot open to see her mother, heavy eye bags and all, standing over her bed. “Hi Mo-”

“You scared me half to death!” Mrs. Y/L/N interrupted, placing her hand on her forehead. “No fever. Thank god. You know, when you were a baby, you were horribly ill with…”

Y/N sat and pretended she was listening as she relinquished in the fact that she was awake, she was here. The fire inside of her was long gone, replaced with the familiar...whatever was there before. Nothing? Maybe. Nothing was good, or at least better than the painful fire. It struck her with a sudden urgency that she had no idea what day it was, much less time. What about her homework? What about her UChicago application? Her counselor was supposed to submit her letter of rec a week ago...or a week ago from whenever she was brought to the hospital.

“Honey, are you even listening?”

“Uh, yeah,” she said.

“That’s what I thought. The food here is horrendous--of course you’re excited to go home.” Mrs. Y/L/N took her glasses off to wipe at the lens in a gesture that seemed more habitual and less effective. “You poor thing. Your father is still in New York--John simply couldn’t have him leave--but he’ll be back as soon as he can. Let’s get you out of here.”

The next few hours were a strange blur of paperwork, changes of clothes, and a bag of medication. The nurses and doctors were bewildered at her miraculous recovery and expressed this at every chance they had on her way out, reminding her to immediately seek attention if she feels anything similar again.

“What day is it?” Y/N finally asked once they were on the way home.

“Wow, you really were out of it.” Mrs. Y/L/N flicked her blinker on as she merged onto the freeway. “Sunday. You were there almost a whole week.”

“Huh? What about school? Do my teachers know? How did Draco get to school? Is he ok?”

“Of course your teachers know, hun. They’re all being very forgiving with their late work policies. As long as you’re putting effort into learning the material you missed, they have no problem letting you skip out on the homework. As for Draco...I think he’s fine. Sylvia’s family took him under their wing for the week. He’s still alive.”

And such a statement was proven when Y/N walked through the front door. Draco shot up from his seat at the living room couch the moment they locked eyes, his hands wringing back and forth.

“You’re okay.”

“You’re okay too,” she responded airily. “When I wasn’t dying I was worrying myself about how you’d do without me. I see my fears of you walking into moving traffic didn’t come true, thank God.”

His lips, tight, offered her the slightest upturn.

“Y/N, dearie, no need to harass the boy,” her mother said. “Up to your room. I’ll bring you some soup in a moment. You need to rest, young lady.”

She sent one last teasing grin at Draco before she was ushered up the steps, her mother fussing over her the entire way.

“So,” Sylvia said, crossing her legs over the other and giving Y/N a wicked look, “Consider this your last formal invitation to my Halloween party. It’s this Friday. It’s not even the night before the ED deadline. You should go.”

“I don’t know, Vy,” said Y/N. Her art history notes lay untouched in front of her as the teacher droned on about something related to how mannerism as an art style came to fame during the...Reformation? She didn’t know. “I’m kind of tired. I feel bad about leaving Draco alone, too.”

“Dude.”

“What?”

Sylvia rolled her eyes. “Will you just do us all a favor and admit that you like him? It’s getting exhausting. Just ask him to come with you.”

“You’re absolutely off your rocker if you think I’m gonna do that,” Y/N said.

“I’m just saying, you’ve done weirder things. Like almost dying from...literally nothing.”

“Hey, hey, don’t be rude. I’ll think about it but no guarantees. I don’t really think Draco is the partying type, though.”

“I’d be careful about making such a wild assumption. You never know what goes on in those posh private British schools for rich kids or wherever he went.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

Her friend laughed. “No. Just an optimist.”

Y/N swung the sleeve of her cardigan at her, whacking her pretty good on the bicep. If Sylvia was bothered by it, she didn’t show it. “Fine. I’ll ask him as a friend.”

“Pansy.”

Y/N was never the type to enjoy background noise as she worked, but there was something nostalgic about hearing the identical voices of her local news anchors in the room over as she sat at the kitchen table and worked on a last minute Physics review set.

“Hey loser,” she called out as she saw a head of blond hair pass by her to get to the kettle. “Care to join me?”

Draco turned, his mouth open and ready to issue a retort before he appeared to change his mind. He’d been oddly distant lately, avoiding her in the common spaces they often saw each other and choosing to get breakfast and his evening tea at times that he knew she wouldn’t be down in the kitchen for. Perhaps that was the reason why she was sitting at the kitchen table at present, but of course she’d never admit that. Not even to herself.

“Can’t. I’m a bit busy with work.”

“Draco,” she chided. “What work is it? I can help you, you know.”

He paused for a few seconds, taking in the scatter of papers on the table and the nearly complete review sheet. “The Physics review is taking me a bit of time,” he said, his tone forced and resigned.

“Go grab it!” She grinned as his scowl deepened. “If you’re nice I’ll let you copy.”

She lost track of time as they went over his work, his pencil marks filling the page with symbols that were unfamiliar to her.

“Your handwriting is really nice,” she noted. “Like, so nice that I feel like you could really make it as a study youtuber or a study blogger or whatever. You have that potential if you want to tap into it, dude.”

“I have no idea what that is,” he said neatly as he punched an equation into her calculator.

“Fair.”

She sat still for a few more moments, watching as her study partner’s chest rose and fell with each breath he took. Sylvia’s Halloween party was just a few days away, and she needed to ask him at some point. Every time she mustered up the courage to open her mouth and hitch her breath, the words would die on her tongue.

The silence weighed heavy in the air as the words of the news anchors floated over…”multiple reports of an armed robbery….suburbs surrounding Cincinnati...cautioned to lock doors...potential link to the missing persons case…”

“Draco,” she said finally. He jolted up from his work to gaze at her. His eyes were probably the prettiest things she’d ever seen--all pale and metallic and silvery. “Uh, I’m going to this Halloween party this Friday. You should come with me, it sounds like it’ll be fun. I think that Heather will be there.”

Y/N mentally groaned at her admission to Heather’s attendance but didn’t know what else to say. She wanted him to come--even if it was so he could spend the whole time being woo-ed over by her.

“Er,” he began, twirling his pencil around his fingers. “I don’t think that’s such a good idea. Homework, you know.”

“Just finish it before--That’s what I’m doing.”

“I think I’m go--”

The slam of the front door made both of them jump, scattering Y/N’s long forgotten work and threatening to knock Draco’s mug over.

“Hi kids,” Mrs. Y/L/N greeted as she entered the kitchen, an armful of grocery bags in tow. “Studying?”

“Yeah,” Y/N answered. “By the way, Mom, Sylvia invited me over to her house on Friday for a sort of Halloween get together. Can I go?”

Her mother was silent for a few moments as she methodically unpacked the paper bags on the counter.

“I don’t see why not. Is Draco coming too?”

“No,” he replied before Y/N even had the chance to open her mouth.

“I don’t think you should be home alone at night, my dear,” said her mother. “Have you seen the news? There’s someone on the loose. I’d feel much better if you were with Y/N--Robert and I are going to an auction that night. We won’t be around.”

“I’ll be fi--”

“If Y/N is going, you’re going,” Mrs. Y/L/N said as she finished unloading and brushed her hands off on her thighs. Her no nonsense demeanor rarely showed itself, but when it did, she was difficult to argue with.

Y/N shrunk down in her seat as Draco sent her a sour look.

Sorry she mouthed. If he noticed, he didn’t show it.

“Remind me again why we’re walking?”

Draco’s snotty tone carried through the crisp fall air as they neared the street that Sylvia lived on.

“Because,” said Y/N, “Quite frankly, I don’t think I can get through being in an enclosed space with Heather for an entire night without being at least a little buzzed. And I’m not gonna have you drive us home.”

“Hmph.” His dress shoes, odd pointed tips and all, kicked at the fall leaves below them. His costume was literally nothing different than what he wore when he arrived--a crisp white dress shirt, an oddly cut blazer, and a weird looking green and silver pin attached to his lapel.

“If anyone asks,” she had told him from the hallway as they were getting ready to go that afternoon, “Just say you’re a corporate rat or something.”

He’d snorted at her choice of clothing--a completely dark brown set up with a picture of a shoe taped to her chest.

“I’m the shoe that that Iraqi reporter threw at Bush,” she had explained.

He just stared.

“If you aren’t having fun, please just let me know,” Y/N said as they turned one of the last corners. “We can tell her our fish died or something. Sylvia would totally understand.”

“We don’t have a fish.”

“I know, genius,” she teased, giving him a little punch. Instead of balking, he just crinkled his nose. “But she doesn’t.”

“I think she does.”

“You’re missing the point. You’ll tell me if you want to go back home, promise?”

“I want to go home.”

“You’re going to be the death of me.”

He grinned as they waited for Sylvia to open the door.

The next few hours were a bit of a blur. Y/N didn’t drink much at first--maybe the equivalent of 2 or 3 shots, spaced out in between a couple of sips of water--but the energy in Sylvia’s home definitely had her more buzzed than usual. There was something about her home that always felt twice as spooky, a type of underlying energy that pulsed at the seams.

To her surprise, Draco actually took a cup of whatever Sylvia offered him and downed it. She laughed when she saw him finally lower the cup as he furrowed his brow at her.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

His features looked softer in the dim lighting of Sylvia’s living room--all the tension that he carried in his shoulders and face seemed to be gone. When he smiled at her, it was all she could do to keep herself from disintegrating into the couch.

As the night wore on, Y/N felt herself getting progressively more tipsy, and, in her haze, she could see that Draco was going down a similar path. He was touchier than she would have expected--hanging onto her elbow or sleeve whenever Sylvia or Y/N said anything funny, not moving his leg when her thigh was pressed against his, stretching his arm out behind her and resting it on the back of the couch--and she found herself wishing she was sober enough for it to feel real. Maybe she was so drunk that she was imagining it all. Maybe she was actually asleep next to her toilet at home after throwing it all up and was just dreaming.

“Fuck!” Someone exclaimed, prompting her to look up. Abby, a girl she kind of knew from her grade, had spilled the entirety of her drink on the coffee table.

“Y/N,” Sylvia whined, “I’m too tired to get the paper towels. Will you and Draco go?”

Despite the half-hearted protests from Draco, she managed to haul him up by his arm as she pushed back the pleasure that Sylvia saw them as a sort of team, a sort of unit.

“I think she keeps the extra paper towels in her pantry,” she told him as they made their way over to the quiet part of the house. The light hanging over the kitchen island was on, but the rest of the room was bathed in darkness.

“Right he--”

Y/N froze as she saw it--or, as she would come to discover, them.

Heather and Chad stared back at them, looking much more disheveled than one is permitted simply sitting on the kitchen counter. It was hard to make it out clearly, but Heather’s cheeks looked flushed. Chad’s matched.

“In a fucking kitchen? Chad, I thought you were better than this,” Y/N said, turning and grabbing the paper towels from the cabinet behind them. “Get a room, you weirdos.”

Chad laughed, a short lived and awkward sound.

Once they were back out in the living room, Y/N tossed the paper towels to Sylvia. “I think we’re gonna head back. We have to walk, you know.”

Sylvia dramatically threw herself back onto the couch. “I suppose. Thanks for coming guys, it was nice to see you outside of class again.”

“Likewise!” Y/N called over her shoulder as she walked out of the door with Draco by her side.

The walk home was silent for the first few moments. Despite the fact that it was late October, the night was pleasantly crisp and not too cold. The only sources of illumination were the scattered street lights, casting a soft orange hue on the two.

As they turn the corner onto the main street, Y/N’s shoe caught on a crack in the pavement in a movement that would’ve sent her sprawling face-first into the cold concrete if it hadn’t been for Draco’s hand grabbing her own and yanking her back up.

“Thanks,” she said. His hands were warmer than usual despite the coolness of the air.

He just sent her a small smile as he untangled their fingers and placed his hand back into his pants pockets.

“Weird to see Chad and Heather, right?” Y/N nudged him with her shoulder. To her surprise, he nudged back.

“I guess. I thought it was obvious, though.”

“What?! No way.”

“Are you blind? Heather’s been all over Chad,” he said.

“Are you? I thought she was obsessed with you!”

“No, definitely not.”

“Are you sure about that?” she asked, turning to look at him. The dim glow of the streetlights made his hair look almost like a halo. “She wouldn’t leave you alone.”

“Dunno.” Draco shrugged. It was then that Y/N remembered how much he’d had that night.

“I’m sorry. I know you’re probably not in the right mindset to be analyzing other people right now,” said Y/N.

His lips twitched upwards. “No, no, it’s ok. I’m fine. I just couldn’t be bothered over the whole ordeal. Entirely uninspiring, I think.”

“You’re such a nerd, even when you’re drunk,” teased Y/N. “It’s honestly a wonder that you spent the first month near failing physics.”

“Sod off.” He nudged her again, hard enough to make her sway. “You’re the one who’s still an insufferable smartass. I figured drinking would make you more tolerable.”

“Don’t be a dick,” she muttered as she shoved him back. “You know you love me.”

He froze in the middle of his retaliatory shove, his hand rested on her forearm.

“Sarcasm, king,” said Y/N. “I don’t mean it. I wouldn’t blame you if I were right, though. I’m not sure if you’ve noticed, but I’m quite the commodity.”

“Oh, yes, most certainly.” His tone was dripping in faux genuity as he gave her a gentle push.

As he was doing this, Y/N grabbed the offending arm and took him down with her, landing in the soft garden bush in poor Ms. McCoyle’s front yard.

“Gotcha!” she cheered as he frowned from his spot on top of her. It took all her might to ignore the fact that his face was inches away. “It’s just my smart physics brain at work.”

“Your neighbor is gonna kill us.”

“She can try.”

Draco sat up, grabbing her hand and hauling her to her feet. She took the opportunity to hang onto the sleeve of his coat as a sneaking suspicion overtook her that things wouldn’t be like this again without the clever excuse of intoxication.

“What’s that?”

“What’s what?”

Y/N let go of his sleeve to look up at his face in confusion. She followed his eyes, suddenly hardened with an emotion she couldn’t quite place, to their house at the end of the street.

“You shut the door behind us, right?” Draco asked.

“And locked it.”

Their front door, hanging wide open and swinging in the breeze, told a different story.

Sobering up was easy once the police sirens showed up and searched their house. Y/N could tell the responding sheriff knew they’d been drinking, but since they weren’t driving and were speaking clearly, he didn’t mention anything.

“We’ve searched the house,” he told them as they sat together outside on the curb. “It looks like it fits the profile of the other armed burglaries in the area, but nothing was taken this time. The bedroom that looks out into the garden is completely trashed--it seems like the suspect was looking through your things for something. The bedroom across the hall was displaced a bit, but nothing compared to the first.” He took another look at his notes, adjusting the thick rimmed glasses that were perched on his nose. “You kids are lucky. Whoever this is means business. There’s unfortunately not much we can do except set up a patrol to watch over the street for now. Please give us a call if you see anything or hear anything.”

They nodded. Y/N had placed a call to their parents while they waited a safe distance from the home for the police to arrive. She’d been shaking as she pressed their number into her phone, and Draco, to his credit, rested his hand on her thigh.

“We’ll be fine,” he’d said before retracting it. “Don’t worry.”

Draco seemed considerably calm for someone experiencing a home break in in a foreign country as they made their way into the house. The first responders had left the lights on, and the wash of LED bulbs did nothing to hide the disturbance of her bedroom. Everything of hers was thrown into the middle of the room from her drawers, closet, and dresser. Her laptop, open and plugged in, was left completely untouched.

“Draco,” she said, “Can I ask you something?”

“Depends, what is it?”

Y/N noted that he was getting considerably paler as they stood in her doorway. “I don’t think I can sleep here. Knowing what happened. Especially when it’s still a disaster.”

“Understandable.”

His features looked hardened again, like he’d gone through a filter of seriousness. She decided that this was probably her last chance to ask for any act of intimacy before the effects of alcohol dissipated in his system. “And I don’t want to sleep alone.”

“Er...Oh.” He stared at her. “What?”

“I know that this is really awkward, but can I, like, sleep on your floor or something? Just for tonight.” When she swallowed her throat felt painfully dry. “I don’t snore or anything. It’ll be like I’m not even there.”

Draco sucked in a long breath, casting his eyes up to the ceiling. Y/N wished she knew what he was thinking about. “Yeah. That’s fine.”

“Thank you thank you thank you,” she sang, darting into her room to grab a blanket and a pillow as he watched wordlessly by the doorframe.

The walk to his room was dead silent except for their sounds of shock when they saw the broken glass in the middle of the floor.

“I think that was from the picture frame,” Y/N said as she carefully walked into the middle of the room. Sure enough, a framed photo of her and their late dog that had been left on the wall was face down on the carpet.

“Is this when you ask me to sleep in my bed, too?” quipped Draco as he sidestepped the wreckage and sat on the opposite side of the queen mattress.

“Um...we can make a pillow barrier so we don’t touch.”

He rolled his eyes and tossed his blazer over his chair as he took off his shoes and buttonup, leaving nothing but his undershirt and dress pants. “I’m going to get changed. If you’re asleep before I get back, this is me saying goodnight.”

With that, he grabbed something from his dresser and walked into his bathroom, Y/N ripped off the picture of the shoe and placed her phone on the bedside table. Before she knew it, she was completely passed out.

It was barely dawn when she next woke up. Her head was heavy--no doubt the beginnings of a hangover--but she’d never felt more electrified.

A small huff prompted her to look to her left where Draco was just a few movements away from her. He was very clearly still sleeping, each breath leaving his lips with a whisper. His hand, draped over the covers, was millimeters away from touching her. The pink of the sunrise made his hair, now ruffled and sticking up in the side, glitter in the light. She resisted the urge to reach out and brush it away from his face.

Y/N lay there, admiring the boy sleeping next to her, until the urgency of her situation struck her. She was absolutely parched, and if she wanted to mitigate the damage she’d already done, it was in her best interest to drink a glass of water and take 4 Ibuprofen.

With a sigh, she quietly slid out from under Draco’s covers and made her way to her room, careful to avoid the glass scattered all about. She knew she had a packet of Ibuprofen somewhere in one of her dresser drawers.

The pile in her room was bigger than she remembered. She began by just throwing her clothes that had been on the ground onto her bed, sorting through everything in rough categories. When this proved unhelpful, she turned to the mini pile by her door which, to her surprise, had a few sweatshirts that definitely weren’t hers.

Draco she thought absentmindedly as she combed through the pile. Aha. A small green pouch, just like the one she kept her over the counter medications in.

Her hands struggled to undo the tie--Did she normally knot it like that?--as she admired the lining. She never noticed that the edges had silver thread stitched in.

Once she finally opened it up, she grabbed her water bottle and prepared to be faced with a variety of pill bottles as she tipped it over; however, what came out was very different.

A collection of letters. Namely, Draco’s. She knew it was wrong, but he was sleeping, and every letter looked official, stamped with a seal and etched with some sort of crest. They couldn’t have been that personal.

After a bit of bargaining, she decided to open one. If it was personal, she made the deal with herself to put it away and never speak of it again.

The parchment was heavy and clearly expensive. Her hands were shaking as she unfolded the first one, feeling guilty the whole way.

Foreign words flooded her vision. It wasn’t like the letter was written in a foreign language--but there were so many terms she didn’t understand.

Death eater...Voldemort...Crimes against the ministry...Conspiracy against Dumbledore...Hogwarts-sanctioned punishment...

She read on until a word popped out that made sense--Magic. And there it was again--Magic. Wizard. Magic.

Swallowing hard, she shoved the letter back into the envelope and opened one more. This one was much more coherent.

“Dear Mr. Draco Lucius Malfoy of Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy:

It has been made apparent to us that, while serving the punishment of your accused crimes, you have unlawfully used magic (namely, a Glamour spell) in front of a muggle. Consider this to be your first strong warning. One more slip up and the Ministry will be forced to reconsider your dropped sentence of Azkaban.

Sincerely and warmly,

The Ministry of Magic -- Justice Sector”

What. What the fuck. What the fuck.

Her racing mind was put to a screeching halt at the sound of someone clearing their throat behind her.

#draco x reader #draco malfoy x reader #draco imagine #draco malfoy imagine #draco x oc #draco x y/n #draco malfoy x oc #draco malfoy x y/n #draco malfoy #draco lucius malfoy

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bre-meister · 4 years

Note

I need some pre married/family angst

this is early relationship so pre-family and pre-married Cleon. I hope it’s angsty enough I kind of got distracted while writing to fight a huge ass hornet in my room ( I was super terrified ngl). This was such a journey for me to write that I don’t even have an official title for it like I normally try to do lol. This has also taught me that I need to work on angst that is not “person A and Person B fight”. Sorry for the rant here's the actual work:

Claire was mad. No, Claire was beyond mad. Claire Redfield was absolutely furious. Her rage was so blinding that she couldn’t even be bothered to apologize to the nice looking doorman as she barreled through the lobby of the apartment building of the object of said anger. She was sorry - felt the apology in her bones as soon as the smaller man began to cringe and cower slightly in her presence - but again, her anger prevented it from passing her lips.

Secretly, she did take a little pride in the fact that, as she entered the elevator, a young-looking couple decided to “wait for the next one” instead of sharing with her. It gave her a little more time to stew in her anger - pulling from the depths of her soul, every time that she had said it was okay even when it wasn’t - before she came face to face with him.

“What the hell Leon!”

The door to his apartment opened with such force that if circumstances had been different, she would have been worried about possibly putting a hole in the wall. Alas, her attention was not on the wall, but instead on the man lying on the couch in front of her. Leon was clearly either drunk or hungover. Although considering what she’d heard from both her brother - half the reason she was here in the first place - there was a distinct possibility it could be both. Claire wasn’t sure that could actually happen, but if anyone could make it a thing it would most definitely be Leon S. Kennedy.

All that came out of his mouth was unintelligible garble mixed in with a few pained groans. Claire took pleasure in that for a moment and allowed it to further stoke the flames inside of her. She wasn’t exactly sure what she was about to do. She’d kind of just gone on autopilot after getting. Chris’s concerned texts. Apparently, Leon had been ghosting everyone over the last week. So, there she stood, upset and silent until Leon made the mistake of finally speaking real words.

“Red,”

Claire didn’t let him finish. She exploded,

“No! You don’t get to do that, you hear me? You don’t!”

Claire moved towards the couch and yanked off the blanket covering Leon with more force than was probably necessary. The blanket had apparently been completely wrapped around him and, in his current state, that was enough to cause him to tumble to the floor. He let out another grunt of pain as he landed but Claire didn’t care.

“Get your ass up.” Her voice had calmed, steadied to an even tone. Her anger no longer manifested itself in yelling, but instead as a low growl behind her words.

When he didn’t make any effort to move, she said it again,

“I’m not asking Leon. Get up.”

He finally did as told. Standing he slowly moved to the small kitchen behind the couch. There he found a glass that looked somewhat cleaned and began to fill it with water.

This wasn’t the first time that Claire had been there to pick up the pieces whenever Leon fell apart. Safe to say, those instances had never quite played out like this one and Leon was a little jarred and, admittedly, a little afraid of what the red-headed woman might do.

They stared at each other as Claire gave Leon a moment to swallow the little bit of water that was left in his glass. When he sat it in the sink and she remained silent he let his impaired brain convince him that meant he should speak.

“What’s your problem? Chris piss in your Wheaties this morning?”

The look on her face caused concern. The laugh that followed chilled him to the core. Leon S. Kennedy had faced down and won so many B.O.Ws that he had lost count but at that moment as he looked across the room at a laughing Claire Redfield, he knew that he had quite possibly signed his death warrant. He also knew that if this truly were how he died, several people would help her cover it up, and frankly, he couldn’t blame them.

“My problem?” she continued to laugh, “What’s my problem?”

Leon was getting a little nervous. In yet another mistake, he even let out a few nerve filled chuckles himself.

“No, you don’t get to laugh! This isn’t funny,” and yet she was still laughing.

Leon was not.

“Do you know why this isn’t funny? Because I don’t think you do.”

He couldn’t have answered even if he wanted to - Claire cut him off as soon as he opened his mouth to fumble through some bullshit excuse.

“You don’t. I know you don’t because if you did you would have had your ass at the restaurant last week, Leon!”

Leon felt his stomach drop. Oh no. He really had fucked up this time.

“Sherry’s birthday.” He felt more than heard the mumbled words slip past his lips.

“Ya, Sherry’s birthday,” Claire turned around to finally close the door and Leon took the opportunity to sit down in one of the few chairs at his tiny kitchen table.

“You know, I was okay with this when it was only me you were fucking over. I know I shouldn’t have been, but I was. I told myself over and over that it was fine, you needed this time, you needed me and I was more than happy to give it to you - everything. I give you everything! But it was okay because you were always there for me too. Most of the time at least. And I get it, Leon, hell I get it more than probably anyone else. What we went through was hell, no one should have to go through that once let alone as many times as you do. But I was there too, I have to deal with that shit too. Sherry has to deal with that shit. She was Twelve Leon.”

“I know -”

“Then where the fuck were you? This was all she wanted! All she asked for for her birthday was for all three of us to be there, together and you couldn’t even get your shit together enough to give that to her. No call, no text, not even a half-assed excuse just nothing. The hurt and disappointment on her face - I’ll never forget that Leon. And to top it off, I had to cover for you and as much as I love you,” she saw that way his whole body seized up at her words, “I’m tired. I refuse to do that anymore.”

“I’m sorry, Claire.”

Claire pulled at her hair which, for once, wasn’t in its usual ponytail.

“Stop! It’s always sorry with you. For once could you just stop!”

“Stop what? Tell me what I have to do to fix this.” He was desperate. He didn’t want to lose her or Sherry. The idea of that - of finally being completely and utterly alone - was almost too much to bear.

“For starters stop making promises if you know you can’t keep them. Stop overcommitting yourself. Stop overworking yourself because that’s always how you get this way in the first place. And stop looking like that.”

“Like what?” he was a little puzzled. He may have also been on the verge of tears but, if anyone asked later he would deny it vehemently.

“Like...like I just killed your puppy or - or like I’m taking away everything from you - it’s making it really hard to stay mad!”

In any other situation, he might have laughed at that but he had sobered up enough between when Claire had burst through his door and now. Now, he really did feel that Claire leaving here like this, Sherry being disappointed with him - that truly was as if everything were being taken away from him.

“I’m sorry. I - I don’t know how to make you believe that I am, but I truly am sorry. I would never hurt you, Claire. I would never hurt Sherry.” He was pleading at his point. He didn’t know what else to do.

“But you did. You hurt us Leon, and I’m not saying that I won’t forgive you, but it’s going to take some time. You fucked up and your usual ‘sorry’ isn’t going to fix it when we always end up in the same cycle again.” She sighed and as the air left her body she could feel all of her anger leaving as well only to be replaced with immense sadness and disappointment.

Claire turned and walked towards the door. A small clang echoed through the silent room and, although Leon couldn’t see from his spot in the kitchen, he knew that Claire had dropped her spare key on the table next to the door.

“Wait! Claire, please, don’t.”

“Don’t what Leon?” She didn’t turn around, she knew she wouldn’t be able to leave if she did. So, head down she gathered her strength and continued,

“Don’t leave? Give me a reason to stay then.”

“ I love you.” It came out in a soft whisper.

Those three simple words - the first time he had ever said them to her in a non-platonic way. They made her heart soar and ache, both at the same time. She’d imagined this moment a lot but never like this. Never at the end of a fight that had been building for a long time. Never with her back to him, preparing to leave. Never with him sitting in his kitchen, a mess, crying in a way she’d never seen from him. Never like this. And, as much as she wanted to stay…

“ I love you too Leon. But that’s not what this is about. Call Sherry, she deserves to hear from you why you couldn’t do this one thing for her.”

With that, she left. With her, Leon felt a part of him leave as well.

The tears turned to outright sobs as he collapsed on his kitchen floor - dirty. The floor was dirty. He was dirty. He hadn’t cleaned or showered in a while but it was kind of fitting. His apartment was dirty, his clothes were dirty, his body was dirty but he was dirty in a way that was deeper than just the physical sense.

He’d let them down. The only two people in this world that he still gave a damn about. The only two people he would try for.

Then why hadn’t he? Why hadn’t he pushed himself harder? In the same sense, why hadn’t he taken a break when he had pushed too hard. Why hadn’t he tried harder to stop her? Why hadn’t he?

There were too many questions. If he left himself to ponder them for too long he’d never get up from this dirty kitchen floor and he couldn’t afford to stay here forever. He had business to attend to, phone calls to make.

First, to his job. Claire was right, he needed to stop overworking himself and he’s acquired more than enough hours to take some time off. Then, to Sherry, because he owed her an apology in more than just words. He only hoped she would allow him to make it up to her.

He wanted to call Claire - show her he was trying, that she was right and he would do better. However, he knew that would probably only make things worse. She always gave him the time he needed, now it was time for him to do the same.

But before anything, he had to get up off the floor. The floor was dirty. He was dirty. Leon was tired of the blood and grime that seemed to fill almost all of his waking hours as D.S.O Agent Kennedy. He decided he wouldn’t let it follow him home anymore. So, Leon got up.

On his way to the bathroom he passed by the bowl he kept on his front table by the door. It was a housewarming gift from Claire who knew he was always misplacing his keys and yet never making an effort to get more organized. Always looking out for him, his Claire.

Leon wouldn’t even let himself question if there even was a ‘his Claire’. Not that he owned her, no one could ever own Claire Redfield. But, looking at the two keys laying together in the bowl, Leon couldn’t help but think they were the same - a matching set. One complementing the other in a way that, while they were separate, they were still part of the same.

Yes, Leon Kennedy got up and as he looked at his dirty face in the mirror, he turned the faucet on because he was tired of being dirty. He was ready to get clean.

#Cleon #Cleon fic #Leon Kennedy #Claire Redfield #claire x leon #Claire/Leon #angst #resident evil #i wanna make my angst better so please hang with me until i do #sry for the long wait #sry again for the long ass rant at the beginning im super tired and it's kinda late but I wanted to post anyway #lol i'm doing it again

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hitchell-mope · 3 years

Text

(Third film. Kronk’s Tavern. Facillier’s just sat down at the bar next to Hades (Eva Green) who’s nursing a large flagon of beer)

Facillier: so you’ve heard

Hades: heard? Of course I’ve fucking heard. Your daughter and my son are dead

Facillier: legally. Legally dead there may still yet be hope

Hades: he has no magic. And she’s not powerful enough to keep the both of them alive. So either they’re both dead or there’s going to be a rampaging homicidal heartbroken teenager laying waste to the island any day now

Facillier: you don’t know that.

Kronk (genuinely trying to help): well anything’s possible isn’t it? Both could be dead or one had to eat the other. Phytoplankton only goes so far you know

Facillier: Kronk! There’s a call for you downstairs.

Kronk (not getting the sarcasm): OH BOY

(He launches headfirst into the floor knocking himself out cold)

Facillier: tch. Sideskicks. Now that’s been taken care of. How are you doing?

Hades: my second son is presumed dead. So is your first daughter. What do you think?

Facillier: not very good

Hades: nope!

(She takes another massive swig of beer)

Facillier: where’s Hadie right now?

Hades: with Antony at the butchers. Why?

Facillier: let’s get out of here. You can come back to mine. And we can

Hades: oh ho ho. The offers greatly appreciated. You don’t know how much. But I have a wife

Facillier: I know. She dumped you the morning after the wedding night the moment she realised she was pregnant with Mal.

Hades: oh, no. No. I mean my first wife. Persephone. After all this trouble I think it’s time I put our arrangement aside and focus on her and my five, sorry, four, four children.

Facillier: be that as it may. You’re in no state to be alone tonight. At least let me escort you back to your lair

Hades: nope. Nope. Too risky. I don’t trust myself

(This is when “honey I’m good” happens. After the song she collapses into Facillier’s arms completely drunk)

Facillier: yeah....I’m taking you back to my place. You can’t be alone tonight

Hades (mumbling): ifyoumustyoumust

Facillier: heh?

(Hades mumbles again. This time even more unintelligibly. Then pushes herself away from him)

Hades: fine then. Walk me home.

Facillier: start going. I’ll catch up.

Hades: oooh no no no. You’re walking me back to your place.

Facillier: someone has to pay for the booze

Hades (incredulously): it’s KRONK!

Facillier:....fair point

(They leave the tavern and make their way back to the arcade. This is when “walk me home” happens. After the song they walk through the door of Facillier’s arcade, Hades (having switched to his Sebastian Stan form) being half carried-half dragged inside by Facillier)

Anastasia: so he’s heard?

Facillier: and then some. And kronk was absolutely no help whatsoever

Anastasia: Well you know what we sidekicks are like

Facillier: yes I do. I was one.

Anastasia: oh yeah....I forgot about that

Facillier: everyone does. Help me get him to the sofa

Hades (grumpily pushing himself off from Facillier): no-ohhhh!!!! Imma go drinkie-poo some more

Anastasia: drinkie-poo?

Facillier: cut him some slack alright? He’s grieving his son. I doubt you’d be coping well if Anthony were dead

Anastasia: first off. No one should ever mourn a pirate. Secondly. Assumed dead is very different than ACTUALLY dead. Thirdly. Uma’s in the same situation and you’re not falling apart.

Facillier: I can’t afford to.

Hades (over at the bar): STOP TALKING!!!! I’M WALLOWING HERE!!!!

Anastasia: yeah, we know. And you need to stop

Hades: why the he>hic<ell should I?

Anastasia: because it’s not healthy?

Hades (hair bursting into flames): I AM A GOD!!!!

Facillier: yeah, yeah, we heard you the first 98 million times. Now! We need to sober you up

Hades: wahverfor?

Anastasia: it’s unseemly for a being of your calibre to behave in this manner

Hades: oh fuck off Human!

(Facillier pulls Anastasia off to the side)

Facillier: I think it’s time to try a different approach

Anastasia: ya think?

Facillier: the question is; what do we do?

Anastasia: if we can make this slag heap partially liveable we can kick a deity out of his funk.

Facillier: yeah but how?

Anastasia: to music of course.

Facillier: now why didn’t I think of that?

Anastasia (cupping his face in her hands and looking fondly at him): because you can be a right old idiot sometimes

Facillier: thank you Ana, thank you for the help

Anastasia: it’s what I’m here for Antoine. HADES!!!! What happened to you. We made this island what it is. We built everything from the arcade to the docks. Admittedly it only took 12 hours but we did it. So why are you so down in the dumps?

Hades: I grew up. I have four-three-one. I have 1 child on this island and now he’s all grown up. I’m superfluous.

Anastasia: but people used to run at the mere mention of your name. What happened?

Hades: I’m dead inside

Anastasia: then reignite. Antoine!

(Facillier turns the stereo on. This is when “we built this city” happens. After the song they collapse on the sofa)

Anastasia: feel a bit better?

Hades (chuckling slightly): a bit

Anastasia: gonna stop the hard drinking?

Hades: yup

Anastasia: alright then. In that case. I’m gonna go back to my place. The meat ain’t gonna cut itself you know

Facillier: you could just ask us to help you with magic

Anastasia: nah, I like doing it myself. Keeps me busy. See ya tomorrow

Facillier and Hades: see ya

Hades (immediately after the door closes): I lied

(He launches himself at the bar intent on getting more beer)

Facillier: oh no you don’t!

(He clicks his fingers and Hades ends up suspended in mid air. This is when “I do not hook up” happens. After the song the focus momentarily shifts back to Uma and Celia witnessing the flashbacks)

Uma: wow. They were cut up

Celia: yeah....

Uma (breaking into laughter): THIS IS AMAZING!!!!

Celia: what

Uma: don’t you see? This means someone actually cares about me. I always thought-

(Suddenly they get pulled out of the arcade and into another building filled with exercise equipment, a boxing ring and musical devices)

Celia: where are we

Uma: Morgana’s Speakeasy

Celia: there’s a speakeasy on the island?

Uma: sort of. She told me it’s fun to say. And more inviting then mere bare knuckle boxing. Why would the incense bring us here though?

Celia: of course. Look.

(Uma turns to see the action behind her. Morgana looks shellshocked as Anastasia fetches her a drink)

Morgana: she’s gone. Dead. Dead and gone

Anastasia: assumed dear and gone. There’s still a chance she’s alive

Morgana: if he tries to worm his way back here he’s in for a nasty dose of reality. I can tell you that nothing

Anastasia: Morgan, you’ve got to stop doing this. Not everything has to be traced back your psycho sister and Antoine.

Morgana: tell that to them then.

Anastasia: that’s....a lot of T’s in one sentence. You know what you need? Visualisation Therapy.

Morgana: and that would be?

Anastasia: I don’t know. I read it in a book. And I’m spouting it to what I made Hades do just now. I see no reason why it can’t work on you as well.

Morgana: what do we do?

Anastasia: you’ve got second hand karaoke right?

Morgana: at the bar

Anastasia: perfect. (She walks over to the bar). Now let’s see. Hmmmm. Ooh! Perfect.

(She switches on the machine. After a few stutters and a tiny, easily squashed fire the music starts)

Morgana: oh Christ not this one. It doesn’t even make sense

Anastasia: who cares? Just sing it!

Morgana: ugh. Fine

(This is when “big girls don’t cry” starts. After the song the Speakeasy melts away and the two sisters get pulled upwards)

Uma: what was that?

Doug: ten minutes are up. Come on

(He leads them back into the kitchen where Carlos is glowing with white light and viciously beating Harry up as everyone but Hades, Elsa, Hadie and the Hook sisters cheer him on)

Uma: what the hell’s going on?

Doug: Harry ran his mouth. Carlos got so pissed off he unlocked his latent demon magic. And is now currently in the process of beating the shit out of Harry

Uma: and the king allowed this?

Doug: he’s Carlos’s father. Of course he did.

Uma: DE VIL. STOP THIS RIGHT NOW

Carlos (with the “I’m far too cute for you to get mad at me” look on his face): Sono sempre così terribilmente dispiaciuto capitano. ma non ho la più pallida idea di cosa stai insinuando

Uma: what?

Carlos: means “no”. I can speak Italian now

Jay: I like Italian Carlos

Uma: aren’t you English or something

Carlos: my biological fathers the coachman from pleasure island. Who else do you think would willingly reproduce with Cruella De Vil?

Uma:....good point. But you’re what? 16? How have you only just unlocked your magic?

Carlos: never been quite so pissed off before. Thank you Hook

(Harry wheezes and coughs up blood in response)

Doug: anyway....hades, Mal. I believe you two were going to tell them something.

Hades: yes! Right. Sorry. Uh. Where to start?

Doug: want me to help?

Mal: please?

Doug: fine. When I was under the sleeping curse Maleficent appeared to me and tried to get me to betray you all and join her. I stabbed her with a material dark fae are allergic to and she teleported away. But before they she said something that got me thinking. Some crap about being naive and on your own. But I wanted to know more. So I asked Hades. And then told him to tell Mal cause you know it’s her family history even if she doesn’t see herself as Maleficent’s daughter anymore. Now your turn. Your eminence

Hades: Maleficent isn’t french. She’s Persian. In the year three hundred she decided she wanted rule her kind. Only. They weren’t hierarchical. So she got mad. And killed them. Every last man, woman and child. Until she was the last one left. Then made her way to france. She made a name for herself. Became the Mistress Of All Evil. In 1300 Aurora was born. And, well, you know the rest.

Uma (incredulous): what?

Mal: and the really funny thing is. I don’t know how to speak Persian. But apparently. I can understand it. Take it away dad

Hades: امروز برای صبحانه چی خوردی؟

Mal: bakers dozen egg yolk omelette deep fried in chunky chocolate peanut butter. SEE!?!?

Uma: I-I-I I can’t

Evie: neither can I Uma. But let’s face my sister is inordinately and insanely unfairly lucky

Carlos: are you seriously still on this?

Evie: I just don’t think it’s fair that Mal is willing to forgive him after what he did and yet I’m not allowed to be rightfully mad he abandoned me for sixteen years

Mal: we’ve been over this E. You know why he did what he did

(The two sisters continue to argue as Carlos approaches Jay)

Carlos: I think it’s time for that spell again

Jay: good. Because I really like what happens when we use it. By your leave C

Carlos: thank you. To get rid of these ants in their pants/I command thee all to get up and dance.

(This is when “we are” happens. After the song. Evie now looks more annoyed than ever)

Evie: stop doing that!

Carlos: why? I think it’s hilarious.

Ben: yeah it is actually kinda growing on me

Evie: well I don’t like it. So stop doing it. Ok?

Carlos: when did you become such a drag?

Evie: hmmmmm let’s see. Probably right around the time I found out I’m related to two of the people I hate most in this world.

Carlos: hmmmmm. Nah. You were a drag before today

Mal (sensing danger): ok that’s it!

(She clicks her fingers and the whole house melts away along with everyone else leaving her and Evie in a beige coloured void)

Evie: what did you do that for?

Mal: because you snapped at Carlos.

Evie: of course. Of course you defend the precious prince(.)

Mal: what is your problem? Huh? I’m mean you weren’t exactly sugary sweet before. But today you’ve been downright freaky. Ever since I connected the dots you’ve been indulging in this pity party act that just isn’t like you. And sometimes you’re fine. And then you go ballistic for no good reason-oh my god. Is it your uh....?

Evie: what? No. That’s next week.

Mal: ohhhh. Then what is it? Cause frankly. You’re being a nightmare. And you really need to-

Evie: I don’t know ok! And even if I did know. I wouldn’t tell you. Cause there’s no way in His realm you would ever understand

Mal: and just what is that supposed to mean?

Evie: I don’t ugh I just. (Irritable sigh). It’s just that.

Mal: tell me

Evie: no

Mal: why not? Maybe I could help

Evie: you couldn’t. I doubt even Doug or Dizzy could help.

Mal: why?!

Evie: BECAUSE IT’S NOT HAPPENING TO YOU!

Mal: what!

Evie: you just don’t get it. Everything was fine. I escaped my mother. I have Doug. I have Dizzy. I gave our house. And then this happens. And you are oh so smug about it.

Mal: I’m afraid I’m not following.

Evie: of course you’re not. Allow me put this in terms you might understand

(This is when “better than I” happens. After the song. Evie snaps her fingers and takes them back to the kitchen)

Evie: so do you?

Mal: do I what?

Evie: know better than I do? Know why it’s so difficult for me to accept this?

Mal: no

Evie: then keep out of it then

(She stalks out of the kitchen)

Uma: whoo. I do believe you’ve touched a nerve

Carlos: shut up Uma

Uma: or what?

Carlos: or I’ll make you

Uma: you wouldn’t dare

Carlos: I almost killed you back in the mirror. And that was without magic. Imagine what I can do now that I have it

Uma: you don’t scare me De Vil

Carlos: of course not. Because you don’t want to face the fact that the “weak little human bitch” that you loved siccing Harry on. Can now REPEATEDLY hand you your multi legged ass on a platinum platter

Uma: you wouldn’t dare.

Carlos: oooh let’s see now

(He summons Uma’s nautilus necklace to his hand and freezes her in place)

Carlos: how’d she do this again? Oh yeah

(The nautilus begins glowing white hot and he starts singing)

Carlos: 🎶If you want to cross the bridge, you bitch/You've got the pay the toll/Take a gulp and take a breath/And please try not to be a troll/mom and dad you know I've got her, guys/The prince is on a roll/This poor unfortunate soul🎶 What was next? Oh right. 🎶Beluga sevruga. Come winds of the Caspian Sea/Larengix glaucitis/Et max laryngitis/La voce to me🎶 Now, sing!

Carlos (with an insanely sadistic smile on his face): Keep singing!

(White smoke pours out of the nautilus, forms into hands and makes their way to Uma’s throat. Which is itself glowing. Just like Ariel’s did all those years ago.)

Uma (utterly pants shittingly terrified): Aah...

(The smokey hands had just about reached into Uma’s mouth when Doug snatches the nautilus out of Carlos’s hand and throws it back to Uma who falls to her knees and starts sobbing brokenly)

Carlos: hey dude, not cool.

Doug: now is really not the time C. Alright?

Carlos: urgh. Fine

(Doug follows Evie upstairs. Carlos looks around in mild surprise)

Carlos: hey. Where’d my folks go?

(Out in the backyard Ben and Mal are surveying the completely totalled gazebo)

Mal: so whadya say? Can it be salvaged?

Ben: possibly sold to a salvagers. OOOH! I know! If we clean the wood up and fix any missing chunks I can take it to the island and give it out as free firewood. Wait. Does winter exist on the isle?

Mal: there’s no snow. But it’ll get very cold very fast at the end of August.

Ben: that should be enough time to clean and multiply the wreckage.

Mal: sounds like a plan.

Ben: whatcha thinking of?

Mal: sisters getting on my nerves

Ben: again

Mal: well at least I’m trying. Which is a damn sight more than she’s doing.

Ben: perhaps she doesn’t want you to try? Like how you never let us go to therapy with you?

Mal (realising what he means): oh. Never thought about it like that before

Ben: eh that’s alright. There’s a lot that’s been going on today. S’understandable. And besides. Even if you don’t patch it up today. You’ve got until the sun expands to talk it over. And then some. But just remember you’ve got me as well.

(He waggles his eyebrows and smiles that “who said I can’t be an incorrigible little shit just because I’m the king” smile that always makes Mal laugh)

Mal (through her laughter): oh how positively awful

(This is when “1000 years” happens. After the song. Bal hug each other. Then Mal sees something in the kitchen)

Mal: I’m so sorry. You give very, very good advice. But I’m afraid I have to go and make a scene.

(She heads back inside)

Ben (chuckling to himself): I wouldn’t have it any other way

(In the kitchen. Evie’s behind the counter. She’s put her hair up in a messy bun, taken all her makeup off and is forest green pyjamas monogrammed with the initials “D.N.S.G”)

Mal: what’re you doing? This isn’t like you. Getting ready for bed when you have guest. What’re you playing at?

Evie: I’m tired, Mal. It’s been a long. I’ve been put through hell. So excuse me but im going to bed

Mal: at 9:40 in the evening?

Evie: you all know where your rooms are. Celia can bunk with Dizzy. Hades, Hadie and Elsa can camp out in the living room. The pirates can fuck off outsude for all I care. I’m. Going. To bed

Gil: this really does seem unlike you E. Party isn’t over yet. And, plus, we’ve still got to come up plan to stop Chad, Maleficent and Adam.

Evie: but we can’t do that right now. You know that right? If we make up a plan right now and go in guns blazing we’re toast. You understand that right? I mean what the hell are we compared to them? Huh? (Pointing to Mal). A dragon in therapy.(Pointing to Ben). The one scaly to rule them all. (Pointing to Carlos). A teenager who’s four steps away from being a marvel villain. (Pointing to Jay). Civilised Tarzan. (Pointing to Uma). Kleines Fräulein tunnel vision. (Pointing to Harry then Hadie). My brothers slut one and slut two. (Pointing to Harriet). Scottish Bellatrix. (Pointing to Hades). My abandoner of a father. (Pointing to Elsa). An ice queen with social anxiety. (Pointing to CJ). A Liddellite. (Pointing to Celia). Lyra fucking Silvertongue. (Pointing to Lonnie). The general. (Pointing to Jane). A powder keg full of marshmallows. (Pointing to Gil). Blonde Hercules. (She gets kinder now as she points to Dizzy). My beyond intelligent daughter. (Pointing upstairs which is where Doug still is). My talented amazing brilliant extremely handy boyfriend. (Pointing to herself). And me. The only one in this place with any brains. So you see Gilly. We can’t beat them like this. So I’m going to bed. And we can reconvene in the morning. Good night and leave me alone

(She turns to leave but Carlos stops her)

Evie (whining): whahahat? What now?

Carlos: rooms?

Evie: what? Oh yeah. Let’s see now. Most of you know where your rooms are anyway. Uhhhh. Celia. You can share with Dizzy. Elsa and Hades can sleep on the fold out couches in the lounge. The pirates can sleep outside. It’s supposed to rain tonight. Hopefully they’ll melt. Once again. Goodnight!

(She leaves again. She’s halfway up the stairs when Squeaky starts whimpering in pain in his sleep. Squirmy soon joins him. And then they both start crying)

Evie (inhaling sharply through her nose): this is just not my day is it? (Calling up the stairs) Doug. Could you come down. (Bitterly). The shit’s hitting the fan.

(After Doug comes back down. The twins are still screaming and crying in their sleep. And he pirates are looking progressively more terrified)

Uma: WHAT THE HELL IS HAPPENING?!?!

Mal (frantically flipping through the spell book): I don’t know! I don’t know!

Hades: and what time is it now?

Hades (thinking intensely): twelve hours. DOUGLAS! What time was it when my ex wife and that class traitor attacked the house?

Doug: uhhhh. 10am. Why?

Hades: and what’s time now?

Matty (who’s just arrived and been witnessing the past events amusedly with a very frightened Dude in his arms): 9:50pm

Carlos: GIVE ME BACK MY DOG!!!! (Matty does so). Thank you. Now. What the hell are you doing here you little freak?

Matty: temper temper Mr De Vil. I suggest you treat me a mite more kindly because right now I am your only hope of keeping those two awake past sunrise.

(At this point the screen cuts to Ursula’s restaurant on the isle. The time stamp on the screen says “several hours ago”. Hook’s at the piano, all limbs and mental faculties restored and he’s giving a little performance to all the villains who are meeting there. This is when “little drop of poison” happens.)

#disney descendants #zendaya!mal

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lovehugsandcandy · 5 years

Text

First Snow (Colt x MC)

A/N: Thanks for hosting the @choicesdecemberchallenge, @choicesbyjade and @cora-nova! This is for day 8 and the prompt is presents. (@client-327 inspired this with this piece of art. Also, thanks @client-327 and @brightpinkpeppercorn for the analysis of RoD coffee orders. Very verrry helpful, thank you so so much.)

Pairing: Colt x MC, RoD

Length: ~3900 words

Rating: PG-13 (Swearing. Kissing.)

Summary: Ellie has always wanted to see the snow. She just didn’t know she had to live through so much snark to get there.

“You look like a Muppet.”

“Excuse me?” Ellie looked down at her vest and snarled, more bark than bite. “This is very in right now, I will have you know. And just because LA is hot doesn’t mean I can’t try for some Christmas spirit.”

Colt stood from where he had been crouched next to his bike. “And that means you need to don some giant bright monstrosity that makes it look like you scalped a Wookie and dyed it green?”

“Well…you wear red pants.”

“I don’t shed.”

She groaned and looked down. She was leaving a conspicuous trail of forest green fuzz across the concrete floor.

“It’s also LA,” Colt continued. “I don’t think you need a vest.”

“It’s December. That means it’s almost Christmas! I love Christmas.” Ellie had always adored the holiday, though the sunshine and endless beaches of her hometown made the Christmas spirit seem contrived.

“Wow. You are all about the holidays, aren’t you?”

Ellie crossed her arms over her chest, but her defensive stance soon faded as a dreamy look crossed her face. “Yeah? My mom used to love it. She let out a wistful smile and looked down. “I’ve never seen the snow. We always dreamed of taking a winter holiday, playing in the snow or something, but...”

“…Sorry.” He ducked his head, eyes softening. Colt may be prickly about almost everything, but he understood family.

“Every year, I tell myself I am gonna see the snow and it never happens.”

“It’s 70 degrees right now.”

“I know but not everywhere. It snowed two feet in Tahoe yesterday!” She sighed. “Next year. I’ll see it next year. At Langston. I can just picture me gazing out at the snow while studying.“ Ellie chuckled without warmth as she lost herself in the daydream. “I’d have a mug full of hot cocoa and a full set of highlighters and-”

“Highlighters?”

“Are you seriously interrupting my fantasy right now?”

His smirk was wicked. “That’s your fantasy?” He stepped closer, sliding into her space. “I can think of some better fantasies than that.”

She rolled her eyes but she felt herself being drawn in, butterflies in her stomach, electric pulses across her skin, inches away from Colt and his eyes crinkling at the corners and his lips right there. “Seriously?” Her eyes darted to the curve of his smirk.

“I have much better fantasies, I can promise you.” He moved to close the distance when a shout from behind made her jump.

“Ellie!” Logan walked through the door and Colt stepped back; if they hadn’t been so infinitesimally close, Ellie never would have heard the soft groan of a curse from deep in his throat. “There you are. Did you need a ride home?”

She flushed, sneaking a quick peek at Colt before nodding.

She had just turned away when she felt a hand circle her wrist. The touch should have been innocent, just a light touch of his fingertips, but the way his thumb stroked her pulse point made heat flash up her veins. “Hey, Ellie?”

“Yeah?”

“Tragic holiday backstory aside...” He looked serious, contemplating her.

“Yeah?”

“You still look like a Muppet.”

She couldn’t stop the snort that escaped her and it looked like he couldn’t stop the grin spreading across his face either.

~~~~~

"What are you doing?!?" She stopped short as she walked through the front door. Usually, the desk was empty and customers would just duck their head in and scream until someone helped them. Occasionally, Kaneko would sit at the front, giving her a short nod as she slipped by to head into the garage. And she had seen Toby there a couple times, devouring comic books and bobbing to the music blaring from the tinny computer speakers.

But she had never seen this.

"What do you think I'm doing?"

"You look like you're working the front desk."

"Wow. You are every bit as smart as everyone says. I'm really glad the California Educational System is truly equipping the minds of our youth with such fantastic observational skills," Colt deadpanned and turned back to the monitor in front of him.

"But..."

"Yes, I'm working the front desk, Ellie. Jesus."

"Why?"

"A job?"

"But..." She looked around and dropped her voice. "You're a car thief. Why in the world...?"

"My dad said ‘front desk only, Colt’." He mocked and rolled his eyes. "Until I can prove myself, I'm on lame ass front desk duty."

“But...you never used to work the front desk. You just used to bum around and make snide comments!”

“Oh, I’ll still do that, don’t worry. But now I can get paid.”

"What do you need to get paid for?"

"I dunno. Maybe Christmas presents, Ellie,” he scoffed. “Duh. You're the one who likes the holidays. Shouldn't it be obvious?"

“But…”

“But?”

“But your dad,” she dropped her voice before continuing. “Your dad legit steals million dollar cars. Why do you need a job for money?”

He shook his head. “Just because he gets paid doesn’t mean I do.”

"Ok. But...but...since when do you listen to your dad?"

"Since he's my boss?"

As if on cue, Kaneko walked out, clutching a paper and sliding it across the desk before pulling a wrinkled list and credit card from his pocket. "Coffee, please."

Colt raised his eyebrows and crossed his arms over his chest. “I will not be the coffee bitch.”

Kaneko seemed nonplussed, small smile gracing his lips. "Do you work here or not?" He was obviously having fun with this.

“I work the front desk, I’m not your fucking errand-”

“I’ll go.” Ellie shrugged, swiping the credit card and coffee order. “It’d be nice to take a walk for a few.”

Kaneko just shook his head at his son and turned his back, walking back into the depths of the shop. She was about to head out but froze when Colt hopped out of the desk chair.

“I’ll go with you.”

“What?” She blinked, staring at him. “I thought you didn’t want to be coffee bit-”

“Shut up. Are we going or what?” He knocked his shoulder into hers to interrupt her tease.

She smiled, a soft secret one designed to be seen by him and him alone. “Ok. Let’s go.”

She was amazed when they made it three blocks, an eternity of LA pavement, where her eyes kept finding their way to his no matter how hard she tried to focus on the sidewalk. But right when they pulled the left on Manchester, strong arms pushed her against the brick wall of a pawn shop and, finally, insistent lips found hers. She melted into the kiss, pulling him close by the lapels of his jacket, cool leather a direct contrast to the heat flaming her cheeks, her lips, licking down her spine.

"Ah." She was being held up by the wall behind her and his hands on her hips. Absent those, she was certain she would collapse into a boneless puddle, a stain on the concrete where a girl had been kissed and kissed well. "Is this the reason you wanted to come? It wasn't to help me carry all the coffee?"

"You got me," he huffed low into her ear. "Ulterior motives. I'm actually not helping you at all; I'll just wait here until you pick up the order and then, when you come back, I'll kiss you again."

"Greedy. "

"Hey, I've been trying to get you to myself all week."

She bit her lip and looked up, all coy eyes and sneaky smile. "Well, you definitely don't want to waste this time now, do you?"

And when they finally continued on their way, after two pedestrians made snooty references to getting a room, well, Ellie felt very well-kissed when she got to the counter of the Starbucks.

"Ok. We have a big order, sorry." Ellie peered at the crumpled list, struggling with the variety of unintelligible handwriting. "Toby wants a venti iced frappuccino with a double shot-"

"What? No!" Colt ripped the paper from her hand. "Toby cannot have caffeine."

"Ok…"

"No. I don't think you understand." He grabbed her shoulders so he could look her dead in the eyes. "Toby cannot have caffeine. He once tried an espresso and then decided he wanted to try jogging; Pop had to pick him up in Pasadena when he got tired. Another time, he only had one cup but still was up for 36 hours straight convinced that he was destined to be a world-famous DJ; I had to kick him out when he was trying to make his own dubstep remix on the shop speakers. And then, another time, after having a fucking tea, he tried to redecorate the loft and I had to repaint the entire thing because he designed some half-assed mural of Big Bird eating tacos."

“Big Bird?”

Colt shrugged.

“Ok, ok, jeez.” She grimaced and turned back to the counter. "Can you make it decaf? And just maybe...not write decaf on the cup so he doesn't know?"

The girl behind the counter did not look amused but still nodded, tapping in the order.

"Ok.” Ellie sighed. “What else do we need?"

Colt peered at the paper in his hand. "A cappuccino with turmeric and honey."

"For Ximena?"

"You got it. Mona wants a venti dark roast, black like her soul."

"Colt, come on..."

"What? That is literally what it says."

She shook her head. "Did Logan want a latte or a mocha?"

"Latte. A vanilla latte." He focused on the sheet in his hand, scrunching his nose. "And my old man wants tea. Black tea. Black. No soul."

"Did he write that as well?"

"No, that was all me."

"Urgh. Ok, what do you want?"

"Flat white." He inclined his head at Ellie. "And I bet you want a hot chocolate.”

She looked at him in surprise.

“What? That's what you want, right?”

She blinked at him.

“What?” He was looking at her like she was insane. “You always get that.”

"You know what I get?"

He rolled his eyes. "Oh my God, don't make a big deal of it." She beamed at him. "Stop it. Or I'll make you carry it all back by yourself."

"Ok, fine."

She couldn’t have carried it all back anyways. It was seven drinks, two trays, four hands full with beverages; however, even laden with drinks, Colt still took every opportunity to lean in and capture her lips, ending with an especially long kiss hidden to the side of the bay doors. She had to blink away the sparks from her eyes as she walked in. But, even as she gave out drinks to outstretched hands, the butterflies still remained.

She was savoring the first taste of hot cocoa, sweet and smooth and still warm on her tongue, when Logan took a sip from his cup and shuddered, lips pursing into a grimace. "Hey. I wanted a mocha! What is this?"

Ellie turned to glare at Colt but he was already walking back to the front desk, shoulders shaking in silent laughter and an extra bounce in his step.

~~~~~

"You're on front desk duty, again?"

Colt smirked at her, thumbing through an old magazine. “I’m starting to feel like you’re my boss.”

“Ha. If I were your boss, then you would definitely be disciplined for insubordination.”

He looked at her through eyes half-mast and she immediately realized her mistake. “I don’t know where I should start with that. The idea of you bossing me around or the idea of you punishing me.” He laughed as she flushed scarlet.

“How do you always make everything so inappropriate?”

“It’s a talent.” He looked past her at the sound of footsteps on concrete and scowled.

She turned and grinned, fully aware of the different reactions Logan inspired. “Hey, you!”

“Hey, Troublemaker.” He slid next to her at the counter, copying her lean so their shoulders brushed, nudging her gently before turning to Colt. “You still on desk duty?”

Colt glowered at him before turning a page so hard she could hear the magazine tear. “Better than pain in the ass duty.”

Ellie rolled her eyes as Logan turned to her, ignoring the jab. “So, Troublemaker, I heard you were quite the fan of the holidays?”

She grinned, barely noticing Colt’s head shoot up in her periphery. “Maybe...why?”

“Well, what do you want for a present?” Logan’s smile was hopeful, disarming as always.

“Oh, stop, nothing.”

“I’m still gonna get you something.” He winked and Ellie could hear paper crinkling in clenched fists.

“You don’t have to, really.” She tilted her head at him.

“What, my presence is present enough?”

She smirked as Colt gagged behind the desk. “Exactly. That, and you let me drive your car.”

“Free driver’s ed?” Logan put his hand over his heart. “Is that all I am to you?”

“You caught me. It’s like driving school and the opportunity to jump through the window of a sports car, all in one.”

“You wound me.” He rubbed her shoulder. “Ok, I gotta get back to work. Ride home later?”

“Definitely!”

“What do you want for Christmas, Ellie?” Colt’s sing-song mocked Logan, precisely, an eerily good rendition that made her narrow her eyes at him. At least he had waited until they were alone, until it was only Ellie there to hear him at full brat.

“I want you to be touched by the magic of Christmas, Colt, and stop being such a-"

"If I were you, I'd think of a backup gift."

"Fine." She crossed her arms over her chest. "You know what I want? Snow.”

“You want someone to buy the weather?” Colt leaned back in his chair, throwing his feet up onto the conspicuously bare front desk.

She rolled her eyes at him and leaned over the desk. "You asked what I wanted. I told you. Snow."

"Good luck with that one. It's 75 degrees today."

“Well, you asked…”

“I don’t have snow but…” He fished around in the pockets of his jacket, grinning triumphantly as he opened his clenched fist. “There you go. Twenty-seven cents, a receipt from Kelso’s, and some dirt.”

“Why in the world do you even have coins?”

“To give to you, obviously.” He dropped them with a flourish on the counter. “Merry Christmas.”

~~~~~

"What? Why are you staring at me like that?"

"This is the third time you've been at the desk this week.” She leaned over the desk. “What in the world are you saving up for?"

“I told you. Christmas presents."

"For who?"

"Maybe you, Ellie." The glint in his eye was back, the one that reminded her that poking fun of her was Colt’s favorite pastime.

"Yeah, right. You know what I'm gonna get you?"

"I feel like you're about to tell me."

"Coal."

"Hmm..." he leaned closer. "Is that 'cuz I've been naughty?"

Ellie choked.

He only edged closer and kept going. "I have been bad but I'd be so fucking good for you, El-." He bit his lip and Ellie couldn’t pull her eyes from the way a blindingly white tooth made indents in the tender skin. "I'd do good things for you, do good things to you."

"Jesus." The flush traveled through her body like lightning, heat everywhere. He was so close. She slid a touch closer, just enough to brush her lips against his, but then-

"Colt!" The voice calling his name commanded attention, by tone alone.

She pulled away with a frown and she watched a similar frown grace Colt's face as he replied, "Yeah, Pop?"

“Do you have that paperwork on the Martinez car?”

She was close enough to hear him drop his voice as he opened up a desk drawer. “It’s up your ass.”

“Colt!”

“What?” He flashed her a guilty smile, pulling the papers out of a folder and holding them up. “Here you go, boss.”

~~~~~

Ellie furrowed her brow, confused. She had been looking for Colt but he wasn’t milling around the shop, wasn’t sulking at the front desk, wasn’t anywhere. She bit her lips, nervously. It was Christmas Eve, for chrissake- she wanted to give him her present.

Finally, when she had almost given up, her laps around the shop not going unnoticed by the others, he emerged from downstairs. She made a beeline over but wasn’t able to say a word before she saw his eyes narrow as he looked at the present adorning her neck.

“The hell’s that?”

She toyed with the delicate chain around her neck. “My new necklace. Logan got it. He said that he wanted to get something nicer than a spark plug for me.”

“Pssht.” He rolled his eyes and muttered to himself, “Run a few jobs and all of a sudden you think you’re the Monopoly guy.”

“What was that?”

“I said...it looks nice on you.”

“Liar.” She took a deep breath and reached into her pocket, tightly squeezing the metal ring into the palm of her fist. “I got something for you.” He watched her curiously as she pulled it out and handing it over. “I didn’t wrap it, sorry.”

“What is it?”

“A keychain. It’s for your keys.”

“No shit, Sherlock. But what is...:”

“Oh, that.” She grinned brightly. “Coal. That’s coal on the end. Seemed appropriate.”

He smirked and opened his mouth before shaking his head and closing it again, obviously thinking better of whatever snide suggestive remark had been on the tip of his tongue. “Thanks, Ellie. Come here.” She followed him to the front desk, where he ducked down into a drawer to emerge with a box, a wrapped present, white ribbon stark around red paper. “Here. This is for you.”

“Wow.” She flushed and took it, gingerly, paper crinkling underneath her fingers. “You wrapped it and everything, this is so nice!”

“Ximena did it for me.” He rocked back on his heels and shoved his hands in his pockets. “You gonna open it?”

She hadn’t been expecting anything from him; other than stolen kisses that made her heart race, they had never really talked about presents or labels or whether he felt any of the same pull she did when their eyes met. She grinned at him beneath slow lashes and slid her index finger under the tape, slowly opening one seal and then, all at once, ripping the paper apart. “Oh my God, you got me hot cocoa!” She clutched the cardboard to her chest. “Dork. Thank you!”

“Yeah, it’s-” he stopped, biting his lip, suddenly shy. “It’s...you should-”

“Hey, Trouble? You ready to go home?” She turned as Logan walked in from the break room, tossing his keys from one hand to the other. “I’ll let you drive if you want!”

“Ok, yeah.” She looked at Colt, who was standing stock-still in front of her, odd look on his face. However, when she raised her eyebrows at him to silently communicate her confusion, he only shrugged. “I’ll see you later?”

“Yeah.” He shot one last, dark look at Logan before walking away, throwing a quick “Merry Christmas” over her shoulder.

As she took the keys from Logan and adjusted the seat, she couldn’t help but wonder. What was that all about? And, while she totally appreciated the present, what had Colt been saving up for?

~~~~~

She still couldn’t figure it out sitting on her bed, idly playing with her new necklace, sliding the diamond up and down her fingers. Why in the world had Colt been working the desk?

She got up with a frown, grabbing the box of hot cocoa and heading downstairs. At least it was a very sweet gesture. Her house was quiet, dark, her dad out on night shift and, with school on break, there was nothing and no one to distract her.

She pulled a mug off a shelf and paused, looking down. The box was open. She didn’t…

Carefully, she slid her thumb underneath the cardboard tab and pulled, peering inside. There was cocoa in here, two packets. But there was also a parcel, wrapped in tissue paper. She opened it up and laughed. Highlighters. Of course. Asshole.

And some papers, wedged inside. It wasn’t a card, just a piece of white printer paper folded to house a few more sheets of paper. She smoothed them out on the counter and gasped. Two tickets to Tahoe. A hotel reservation. And, in Colt’s careful scrawl: to see the snow.

She blinked. Gasped. And blinked again.

Her hands were shaking as she threw everything back in the box, a trick of packaging if she ever saw one. She ran upstairs to get her phone, her wallet, moving so fast she tripped on the way up and had to peel herself off the carpet. She ordered the Dryve while rushing downstairs, almost falling again, and waited by the front door, toe tapping an anxious song on the hardwood as she clutched the cocoa box.

The car came quick, the ride was quick, but she was impatient. Thankfully, when she opened the back door to the shop, it was still, quiet. No one was there to stop her as she ran downstairs, making her way to the door of Colt’s makeshift room.

She could hear him moving around, the slamming of a drawer and subsequent muttered curse, so she knocked. Loudly. And waited.

His eyes widened when he opened the door and saw her standing there. His eyes narrowed in understanding when he spotted the box in her hand.

“Hi.” Her fingers dug into the box, denting the cardboard. “I opened your present.”

“Good.”

“You didn’t need to-”

“I know.”

She took a breath. “No, you really didn’t need to do-”

“I know.” He shrugged. “But you wanted the snow for Christmas.”

“And it’s my trip.”

“Yeah.”

“Are you coming with me?”

He shook his head, laughing. “You can go with whoever you want, the ticket’s transferable. Right now they’re both in your name.”

“I know.”

“You can take Logan and then the both of you will be outta my hair. Might be nice to get some peace and quiet around here.”

She crossed her arms over her chest. “Do you really want that? Logan and I going together on this trip you got me?”

He opened his mouth and closed it again.

“Who should I go with, Colt?” She waited, staring expectantly, eyeing him for so long she had to consciously stop the nervous twitch in her thighs.

Finally, finally, finally, after so long she started to reconsider all her life choices, finally he rocked back on his heels and spoke. “Me. I wanna go with you.”

She smiled and launched into his arms, laughing against his lips. And when she came up for air, he was actually beaming, too.

~~~~~

"You are not wearing that vest."

"Oh, I am. There's finally snow, I hafta wear it!"

"I swear to God, I don't know why I'm here."

"Cuz you like me."

"I like the snow."

"Lie. You hate the snow. You'd rather sit inside and glower at the fireplace."

"..."

"You like me."

"I don't like anyone."

"No, you like me."

"Fine. I like you."

"See, Colt? Was that so hard? And it's not so cold if we cuddle up, right? ….hey. Hey, wait a minute. What are you…? Don't you dare-"

"Haha."

"Did you just put snow down my vest?!?"

"...Whoops."

"You are a dead man!"

"Bring it, muppet."

"Dead, Kaneko. Dead!"

And as she tackled him to the ground, she realized the snow was everything she had ever dreamed it was. And then some.

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Colt

@deimosensblog @alegria1580 @choicesarehard @thefarrari @moonlit-girl-wonder @going-down-downtown@soniadotalves@jolietmaraud @flowerpowell@poeticscolt @zaira-oh-zaira @umiumichan @akrenich @sibella-plays-choices @maxwellsquidsuit @liamzigmichael4ever @octobereighth @i-only-signed-up-for-fanfiction

#playchoices fanfic #colt kaneko #colt x mc #choicesdecemberchallenge #amy writes

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dobrikdeadass · 5 years

Text

unsafe

word count: 1485

description: fans coming to the house late at night leaves addie scared and david feeling helpless in his own house.

February 2020

“You sure you don’t wanna come out with us, baby?” David hoped Addie might change her mind and come party with them, but he knew it was basically a lost cause.

“I’m already so tired from work today, I’d just come home early anyway. Go get your footage and I’ll go out with you guys tomorrow.” He gave her a kiss and thought about staying. She looked so cuddly wrapped up in a blanket on the couch. Maybe a Friday night in wasn’t a bad idea…

Addie could read him easily, though, and knew he was considering staying home with her when he needed to be filming. “Don’t even think about it, I’m just gonna watch a movie and go to sleep. Go work, we can cuddle when you get back.”

He sighed and kissed her one more time. She was right. He had nothing for the vlog. “Be back soon.” As David left the house and locked the door Addie pressed play on the new rom-com Netflix had been pushing on her for weeks.

She woke up a few hours later to a waiting screen from Netflix. She was drowsy and ready to actually go to bed. As comfortable as the couch was, she could never stay asleep on it for more than three hours. As she started to get up and move towards the bedroom, she saw lights flashing in the backyard. She checked the time on her phone—12:54 AM. David shouldn’t be back yet. She looked around the house. No one's things were strewn about. She called him, her hands starting to shake from the possibility that the noise and the lights weren’t her friends trying out a new bit.

“Hey baby, why are you awake still?” Addie could hear the pounding beat from the music playing in whatever club David had stumbled into.

“Is everyone with you?”

“Yeah, we’re about to head back. Why?”

Addie ran to their room and locked herself in the bathroom. When she saw the big window she panicked and ran into the shower, sitting on the floor in a ball. “Someone’s here.”

David knew the pounding in his ears wasn’t from the too-loud music. He was worried. “Hang up, call the police. I’ll be home in fifteen minutes.”

Addie was afraid but dialed 9-1-1 and spoke to the operator. “We’re sending a unit out now.”

“Ok, I’m just… hiding in my shower. Oh! And my boyfriend is coming home soon. I don’t know if that affects anything, but—”

“Alright ma’am, I’ll inform the responding officers. Stay on the line with me. When they get there, they’re going to do a sweep of the perimeter. After they determine everything is safe they’ll be at your door to talk with you and get a statement.”

Addie waited and waited. The operator was silent and Addie couldn’t bring herself to speak.

“Addie?” David’s voice carried through the house.

“My boyfriend’s home,” she spoke, not sure if the operator could hear her as her voice was barely more than a whisper.

“The officers are at your location. If you’d like to hang up and go speak with them, you can.”

“Okay. Thank you.”

Addie pulled herself up and stepped out into the bathroom. Her legs were shaking and she knew she couldn’t get far. “Addie?” David yelled again.

She collapsed onto their bed. “In here,” her voice cracked and she thought her words were unintelligible, but it was enough for David to find her and come into the room. He fell onto the bed and wrapped her in his arms. She was shaking. Now that David was here, all the stress she had been holding left her body but the adrenaline was still coursing through her veins.

“I talked to the police outside. They found some guys looking for a way in. Guess they saw I was at a bar on my Instagram stories and thought no one was home. They just wanted to take a picture inside the house, got one inside the Ferrari. The police put them in their car. We need to go down to the station tomorrow to give your statement.”

Addie was silent for a moment, taking it all in. “I was so scared.”

“I know, baby.” David pulled Addie closer into his chest. He’d been absolutely terrified on the drive home, thinking about what might’ve happened to her. “Me too.”

They fell asleep like that, Addie first. David watched her for hours, running his hands through her hair because he’d been worried the entire drive home he’d never be able to again. As he fell asleep, he hoped everything might look better in the morning. He woke up remarkably early considering how late he’d been awake. He watched Addie sleep for a few minutes before kissing her forehead and gently waking her. “G’morning, baby. Can I get you anything?”

“Tea?” she asked. Addie’s voice was quiet and gravely. David wasn’t sure if it was from having just woken up or leftover from last night. He pulled away from her and stood, padding out of the room and into their kitchen. Addie pulled on one of David’s sweatshirts that was hanging off the desk chair and followed, sitting on the couch and watching him move around the kitchen.

He handed her the mug and sat next to her, pulling her legs into his lap and running his thumb up and down her thigh. “How’re you doing?”

She looked into her tea for a few seconds. “Just don’t know how to feel, I guess. Never thought I’d have to deal with something like this.”

“I’m so sorry, Addie.”

“S’not your fault.”

“But it is. I’m the one who showed people where I lived and I’m the one who posted so people knew we were out of the house.”

Addie looked up and met David’s eyes. She saw the pain in them. She knew he’d been worried about her last night but she didn’t realize he felt responsible for the whole mess. “Baby, you couldn’t have known. We just need to figure something out—a way to be safer. I’m fine, we’ll be fine.”

David nodded and they sat together on the couch for the few hours they had until Addie needed to give her statement, watching TV and getting stuck in their own heads.

Their time at the police station was remarkably quick, and the officers gave them some tips on how to increase security. When they returned to their house Addie felt better. She’d been thinking about what they could do and had come up with a few ideas. “Dave, I was thinking, it might help if we—”

“Let’s move.”

Addie turned quickly to look at David. He was sitting on his knees on the couch, innocent and unaware that what he’d just said was something she’d never even thought to consider. “What?”

“Let’s move.” Addie walked to where he was, standing behind the back of the couch but keeping space between them.

“Baby, I just moved in here. This is our house. What’re you talking about?”

“It’s not safe here, and it’s my house when you think about it. You didn’t help design it or pick it out or anything. Let’s move. Somewhere safer, somewhere that’s ours.”

Addie was shocked and silent. She lived with David already—she had been living with him for six months. So why did this feel like another huge step? Their own place, together. Would they buy it together? This was a big step, wasn’t it? “Baby, I don’t—I don’t know what to say.”

“What’s wrong?” he grabbed her hand and pulled her closer to him, resting his hands on her hips.

“This just, this feels like something bigger than moving in.”

“Getting a house together?” Addie nodded. “I mean, I guess. But so what? I’d rather you be safe. We don’t have to buy it together if that makes you feel better. Please baby, just think about it.”

Addie nodded, and that was it for the conversation that day. They spent the rest of that weekend home with their friends. Everyone was quiet on social media and fans were going wild on twitter, thinking about what could be happening that would make the entire group stop posting. Addie’s favorites were the tweets saying she was pregnant and that all the content from this weekend would come out in a few weeks with a pregnancy announcement. That theory made everyone laugh.

A few weeks later, Addie was laying in bed, head in David’s lap as he worked on his laptop. Addie wasn’t sure if it was a video edit or if David was going back and forth with Natalie about new merch designs, but when she heard the clicking of the keys quiet she said, “Okay.”

“Okay, what?” he asked as he moved his laptop so he could look at her.

She sat up. “Let’s get a house together.”

#david dobrik #david dobrik imagine

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elisaphoenix13 · 5 years

Text

Trigger The Light (Ch.3)

"Quill."

The outlaw startles out of sleep when Tony smacks him with one of his extra pillows, and he groans tiredly. He looks up from his pillow and the death hug he's giving it and glares at the engineer when he pulls the blankets off.

"Dude…"

"You have no idea how glad I am you don't sleep in your birthday suit because I did not think that through." Tony admits.

"What the...what time is it?" Quill asks and fumbles for his phone on the nightstand.

He blinks away the spots the glare of the phone's light gives him when he checks the time, and groans again when the time of a little past three in the morning stares at him. He was going to kill Tony.

"Somebody better be dying." Quill grouses.

"The opposite actually. Sort of. I figured out time travel." Tony tosses Quill's pillow back onto the bed and turns to the bedroom door. "Meet me in the garage. I'm gonna go wake up Thumbelina."

"This can literally wait until a few hours from now when normal people are awake!"

Quill throws the previously discarded pillow at Tony and sighs heavily when the engineer steps just out of the way as he leaves the room, and it lands with a fwump on the ground by the door. He scrubs at his eyes in an attempt to wake up and crawls out of bed, not bothering to pull on a shirt as he leaves his bedroom. He didn't see the point. Quill was just going to let Tony prattle on about his discovery, not process a single word, and then go back to bed. He wasn't above asking Tony to explain everything again at a more reasonable hour.

When he finds himself in the garage, he immediately makes his way over to the couch that Tony stuck in the room and used a little too often and collapses back onto it. The moment he was laid out, he dozed off until another pillow is thrown at his face and disturbs his sleep once again. Quill grumbles and tosses it back at Tony, successfully hitting the engineer this time, and sits up.

"As exciting as this is...couldn't this have waited a few more hours?" Scott asks sleepily, and Quill was barely lucid enough to notice his choice of sleepwear.

A t-shirt and boxers. Weirdly endearing...and common. Quill had seen Tony wear something similar and didn't care, so why was it different with Scott? It must be because of his...crush. The pirate winces at the word. He was feeling more and more like a high schooler.

Quill sets his elbow on the arm of the couch as Tony starts explaining about the theories of time travel, and lays his head in his hand. He could pretend to listen. Even if he tried, he would probably fall asleep because explaining everything at three in the morning was too much to ask.

"Porcupine! Did you hear a single thing I said?" Tony demands and Quill blinks.

"Every word."

"What's the last thing I said?"

"Something about a paradox."

"Tony, it's the middle of the night. You need sleep. We can talk about it on the way to the compound after we call someone to watch Cassie and Dia." Scott reasons.

Scott to the rescue, Quill thought. Even better, Tony agreed to the younger's terms and shuffled off to bed as the pirate seriously considered passing out on the couch he was on. Just thinking about walking back up to bed was tiring, but before he could follow through with conking out where he was, Scott walked over to him and held his hand out.

"Come on big guy. I promise your bed will be a lot more comfortable."

By some miracle, Quill was able to use his brain to mouth filter. So instead of asking if the thief was implying something, he just grunts out something unintelligible and accepts the offered hand. Scott helps him to his feet and pushes him toward the door, and Quill tiredly makes his way back to his room, mumbles a good night, and falls back into bed. He didn't even bother closing the door and Scott didn't seem to notice. He was probably just as tired as he was.

Thankfully, he wasn't woken up again until around eight, and that was only because Diana took his open door as an invitation to come in. When the little girl jumps onto his bed and crawls onto his back, Quill groans into his pillow when she bounces on him, announcing that Cassie made breakfast. The man reaches behind him to grab her and pull her onto the bed next to him, and Diana squirms in his firm hold as he tries to go back to sleep.

"Nooooo! Get up Uncle Quill!"

"First your dad, now you...you're so rude."

"Your door was open!" Diana manages to squirm out of Quill's hold and crawls back onto his back and bounces up and down again. "Come on! Come on! Daddy said you and Uncle Scott are going to the com...compound with him!"

Quill stuffs his face into his pillow. "Forget it."

"Cassie!" Diana yells.

A few moments later, Quill hears Diana giggle and then sighs with relief when the little girl finally ceases her bouncing and crawls off of his back. The relief was short lived though, because something much heavierpractically body slams him, and he groans at the weight difference. The new body sits on him comfortably, and Quill cracks a single eye open to look at the new burden and finds Cassie smirking down at him.

"Get off." The man grumbles.

"I slaved away to make you guys breakfast and this is how you thank me?" Cassie gasps dramatically.

"Please, you love cooking."

"Only when people eat and enjoy the food I cook."

"I'll be up in a minute."

Quill closes his eye and relaxes when Cassie gets off of his back, thinking that maybe the girls took his word for it and were heading back to the kitchen. Wrong again. His blankets were thrown off and hands were at his side, and before he knew it, he was pushed off the bed (with some struggle because he wasn't exactly light) and Quill landed on the floor with a loud thud.

"This is abuse."

"Now come eat." Cassie demands, and both of the girls finally leave Quill's room.

The man heaves himself up to his feet and stretches with his arms over his head before making his way over to his dresser and pulling on a shirt. He was going to need a serious amount of coffee with the little amount of sleep he got, and that was one of the reasons that got him to leave his room. The other being that Cassie made breakfast and she was a better cook than Tony (who was decent to begin with) and much better than Quill. He wasn't allowed to touch the oven or the stove. Sometimes he could touch the microwave though so he wasn't a total loss.

Quill yawns and rubs the back of his neck as he leaves his room, but he wasn't very aware of his surroundings and ran right smack into Scott who had been passing by his room. The thief loses his balance, and completely by instinct, Quill reacts by reaching out as Scott falls backwards. As he loses his balance trying to help Scott, the pirate immediately pulls the younger man close and turns in the middle of the fall so that he's the one that painfully meets the floor with a groan. Scott lands safely on top of him as Quill blinks the stars out of his eyes, and when he can eventually see what mess he got himself into, his thoughts freeze and then derail. One of his hands still had Scott's head firmly pressed to his shoulder, but that wasn't the problem...it was where his other hand was placed.

Directly on Scott's ass.

Quill's hands immediately fly off of the body on top of him and laid out to the sides. "Sorry! I wasn't paying attention!"

Either Scott didn't notice where the pirate's hand had been or pretended not to because he snickered. "I wasn't either. I'm pretty sure I'm about as awake as you are. Thanks for taking the hit though."

Scott rolls off of Quill and back to his feet, and Quill carefully gets up and winces as he rubs his lower back.

"I'm gonna feel that for the next week."

Scott laughs again and Quill shoves him in warning as they make their way downstairs and into the kitchen. They all enjoy a breakfast of pancakes and an assortment of sides, go back up to their respective rooms, and the men get dressed and pack an overnight bag. Tony had already called Steve and Natasha and got them caught up on his breakthrough, and now he was calling Pepper and Happy so they could take turns keeping an eye on Cassie and Diana while they attempted this time heist as Scott liked to call it. When Happy arrived, the other three men said their goodbyes to the girls, who got through it rather well and with very few tears, and just told them to be careful and get home soon. Cassie was aware of what they were trying to attempt, but Tony didn't want Diana to know because he didn't want her to get her hopes up in case it didn't work. Quill made sure he was wearing the necklaces the girls made him before they packed up the car and left, and he and Scott dozed on the ride to the compound.

Quill was pretty sure that Tony was running on a lot of coffee right now, so he didn't fall asleep completely in case he needed to react. They made it to the Avengers compound safely though, and the next thing he knew, Quill was with Steve, Natasha, and Bruce at some controls, and Scott was standing in front of what they called a Quantum Tunnel in a weird suit. He hasn't really been paying attention, but they said something about a test drive, and Tony was elsewhere in the property doing who knows what.

"Ready Scott?" Bruce asks.

"As I'll ever be." The thief responds a little anxiously.

"Alright. Going quantum in three...two...one…"

And then Scott was gone and Quill blinked. He wasn't paying attention before but he definitely was now. Especially when a kid came back in Scott's place.

"Is that Scott?" Natasha asks.

"Yes it's Scott!" The kid says heatedly before getting sucked back into the tunnel.

Then an old man replaced the kid. Quill's mouth opened as he tried to process what was happening, but then the old man disappeared. Everyone stared when a baby took the old man's place.

"It's a baby." Steve states.

"It's Scott." Bruce says.

Oh hell no.

"Get him back!" Quill orders the scientist.

"What? He'll grow!"

"Bring Scott back now!" The pirate nearly growls and Bruce flips a few switches after baby Scott gets sucked back into the tunnel.

"Nat, kill the power when I say!" Bruce shouts, and the assassin rushes over to the lever as he flips a few more switches. "Now!"

Natasha pulls the lever down and to everyone's relief, Scott comes back at his normal age, looking a little frazzled and uncomfortable.

"Somebody peed my pants. I...I don't know if it was baby-me or old-me." Then a blush adorns the thief's cheeks at his next admission. "Or just me-me."

Quill bursts into laughter as Bruce announces their test being time travel, and Tony approaches the group as the pirate attempts to pull himself together after Scott gives him a dirty look.

"Did you guys seriously do a test run without the model I built?" The engineer asks with exasperation and Quill starts laughing again.

"Shut up Spaceman." Scott grumbles.

"Thumbelina, get into some clean clothes and burn that suit." Tony says.

"With pleasure."

Quill calms from his laughter again and follows Scott to their shared room and the younger asks him to get him some clothes from his bag while he takes a quick shower. Some of the rooms had been converted to storage and whatnot so most of them had to share a room, and Quill was positive that Tony stuck him and Scott together on purpose. Maybe he was hoping it would start something between the two thieves, but Quill wasn't holding his breath. It was distracting though. He knew he wouldn't be sleeping well tonight just for the fact that Scott would be sleeping in the other bed ten feet away.

He really hoped his brain didn't give him dirty dreams. Quill wouldn't be able to live with himself if he got one and got vocal. He already had a dream about a certain thief a few days ago and he couldn't look at Scott for the entire day. He knew Scott couldn't have known, but there was always that underlying fear.

"Quill!" Said man jolts out of his thoughts and looks toward the bathroom door to find Scott standing in the doorway with only a towel wrapped around his waist. "My clothes?"

Quill tears his gaze away from a drop of water making its way down the younger man's hip and clears his throat as he throws the man's clothes at him. "Yeah. Here."

The celestial nearly combusted on the spot when Scott didn't bother closing the bathroom door all the way. It's not like Quill could see anything, but the knowledge that a very unlikely gust of wind could open the door as Scott was getting dressed didn't help his imagination. Obviously. Like a gust of wind was going to suddenly flow into their room and open the door so Quill could get a strip show.

"Oh my god, I need a drink." He whispers as the bathroom door is opened again by Scott, fully dressed and scrubbing at his hair with the towel.

"You say something?"

"Just thinking out loud." Quill looks over at Scott and grins. "So how's your back?"

Scott turns and glares at the older man before smacking the back of his head.

#avengers endgame #tony stark #ironstrange #avengers #antlord #peter quill #scott lang

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nightowlfandom · 6 years

Text

Requested: Jungkook-Office Rivals.

HIYA! My request list is RIGHT HERE! (ALSO DO YOU LOVE SLASHER FAN FICS?! MY GOOD FRIEND MADE A TUMBLR FOR IT AND TELL HER THAT ASH FROM NIGHTOWLFANDOM SENT YOU! @slasher-fanatic LOVE YOU BOO!)

3-"Damnit, do you have any idea how amazing you are? Stop being so damn insecure!"

29-"Where the hell did you learn that?!"

34-"Don't pretend that wasn't on purpose, come here."

45-Go to sleep, I promise I'll wake you up"

54- .How stupid so you think I am?!"

(I HAD TO TYPE THIS STUPID POST FIVE TIMES OVER. I'm sorry if this is the complete opposite of what you wanted but I couldn't write this a sixth time without going into panic. Pleaseee forgive me for that.)

...

"Did you really think a trick like that would work?!" you stormed onto Jungkook's office, seething with rage. "You stole my client!"

"I wouldn't say stole, Y/N. More like convinced him that I was the better candidate. As I always am." he smirked. Jeon Jungkook was the type of man that thought just because the name CEO was attached to his title, that he could walk over who he pleased and it really made you mad. You were just as important as he was.

"Did you bribe him or something?" you crossed your arms. "You seem like the type!"

"That would be your department Ms. L/N (last name). Lucky for me I don't need high heels and a low cut blouse to be convincing." he shrugged. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have a deal to settle." he sad down and began typing at his phone. "Good day Ms. L/N."

You whipped around, shutting his door behind you. The nerve of him! He stole your client and then commented on your attire?!

"Hey, how'd it go?" you were joined by Rose. (Okay if it wasn't obvious from my last post, I love Blackpink) "Did he admit it?"

"Yes! He stole my client because he thought he was 'the better candidate' " you rolled your eyes, crossing your arms. "Who does he think he is?!" you snapped. "I'm just as important as he is."

"Of course you are. You know how Mr. Jeon is." she shook her head. "What can you do other than- don't even think about murder." she cut you off just as you opened your mouth.

"I gotta go, I have a report to type." you walked ahead of your friend who shook her head.

"I know that face." Taehyung, another worker had appeared. "You have a plan don't you?"

Rose smirked, nodding her head. "Yes, but I'm gonna need your friends' help. Can you do that?"

"Anything to get those two together." Taehyung laughed. "What do I need to do?"

...

"What do you mean the reports need to be typed again!?!" you and Jungkook yelled at a eerily calm Yoongi. Six reports within the week, gone like that!

"They just disappeared out of nowhere." he shrugged. He looked like he was trying to hide something. What about this was so amusing!? "Taehyung said he couldn't find them, Rose said the same thing. Even Changmin."

" I spent days on those reports, where the hell could they have gone?!" you began pacing.

"Forget it, we'll have to type them again." he waved your rant off.

"That'll take all night." you sighed. "The amount of detail put into them, even if I start now I won't be done until, I don't even know. 4:00 AM."

"I never said you'd be on your own Ms. L/N." Jungkook made you stare at him in confusion. He wasn't really going to try and help you was he?

"What?" you asked stupidly.

"If I help you, then you won't be stuck typing until four." he looked at you like you had a sign that said ' I'm a Dumbass' around your neck. "How stupid do you think I am to the point where I can't type a simple staus report?"

"Don't ever recall insulting your intelligence but okay." you sighed.

....

Damn Jungkook and damn his nice house. Damn the fact that you agreed to come over instead of staying behind by yourself. You seethed as your furiously typed on your laptop you tried to wrap your mind around your current situation as you glanced over at your notes.

Jungkook was in his stupidly nice kitchen. Don't get it wrong, you had a very nice place too, you just hated the fact that today of all days was when your car was in the shop, meaning Jungkook had to drive you to his place so you could both work.

"Here you are." a glass was set down in front of you. You didn't look at it right away but you mumbled a quick "thanks".

"Listen, I know you're less than thrilled about working with me, but you could we try to be cordial. Ot at least a bit chill?"

"I am chill." you clenched your teeth as you typed. You noticed Jungkook staring at your notes, trying to type what he saw on his own laptop.

"Can I ask you a question?" Jungkook asked as he looked up from his computer.

"Sure."you were too focused to make a snide comment like along the lines of 'I don't know, can you?'

"Why do you hate me so much?" he asked. You stopped everything you were doing and turned to face him. He did not jus-. Did he just ask why you hated him?

"You don't remember the day we met? You spilled coffee on me, then mistaked me for a delivery girl. Then when your ex-assistant told you that I was your second in command you laughed, looked me up and down then said AND I QUOTE ,'Her? No way in hell. She probably can't even use a stapler correctly.' " you snapped, shutting your laptop for dramatic effect (good thing your laptop autosaves after long pauses). "You basically embarassed me at the staff introductory meeting telling everyone not to be surpised if I stand at the copy machine for too long because all the colorful buttons would confuse me." you stood up. You were now ranting. "The very next day when I talked to a client from Hungary, you told him that I wasn't anyone important! Thus embarrassing me again!"

"Y/N!" Jungkook slowly stood up.

"Don't Y/N me, because I'm not done! You'd ridicule my work every chance you got, how dare you call me reports 'simple'! Insinuating that I use my body to convince clients. My shirts are NOT low cut for the record!"

"Y/N." Jungkook sighed. You began pointing a finger at his chest.

"What?!" you crossed your arms. "There's loads more I have to say about what you've said to me."

"Well, don't. Because they aren't true. I didn't mean any of it." he sighed.

"What?!" you raised a brow. "Hold on, did you just say that-"

"I didn't mean any of it." he shook his head. "Everyone instantly liked you and I saw your resume and I felt challenged."

"Challenged, with the way you treat me, you might as well win every battle. Did you really expect me to think that was really going through your mind was 'Damnit do you have any idea how amazing you are, stop being so insecure.' " you faked (and failed) a deep voice. "Since day one you've been treating me like I'm some kind of dumb broad! I tried being nice to you and you blatantly disregard my work ethic or my skill in general. So don't you sit there and ask me wh- woah!"

You suddenly tripped over your own shoe, crashing into Jungkook's broad chest. Just like that you two were sent crashing to the floor. Good thing there was a nice carpet. You landed on Jungkook who landed on his back, causing the both of you to groan in pain.

"Oh my gosh, I am so sorry." you tried to scramble up, only to lose balance and land in a straddling position on Jungkook.

"Geez, could you be any more clumsy." he sighed. Propping himself up on his elbows, you finally got a good look of his face. Without his hair slicked and styled like the guys in those dramas you and your mom loved to make fun of. His face was actually relaxed.

Jungkook studied your face, your hair was a little bit of a mess, without that seemingly angry look you wore around him, he could see why everyone you met said you seemed friendly. You rushed to your feet, fixing your clothes.

You sat back down, opened your laptop and began working again, obviously bent of just finishing and going home to enjoy what little sleep you'd get until the next day.

"Y/N." Jungkook asked. Just as you turned your head, Jungkook wasted no time in kissing you. You nearly lost balance so to stay afloat you clung to his arm.

"Don't pretend that wasn't on purpose." Jungkook said in a low voice. "Come here." his words confused you to no end. In all actuality you could blame this incident on faulty high heels you were getting ready take off to throw at him. Unless he was talking about you clinging to his arm, then that was all you. In an instant you were pulled into Jungkook's lap, your hands making an eyen bigger mess of his hair. His hands traveled up your skirt allowing gusts of cold air to brush up against your skin.

Whatever was building up inside you needed to get out, so to relieve the tension coiling up inside you, you slowly moved your clothed core against, Jungkook's thigh, just to relieve yourself, even a little. Your legs shook as he guided you against his leg.

Jungkook held the back of your head, his hands tangled in strands of your hair. You weren't sure how to make out the feelings that coursed through your brain. Yes you hated Jungkook, but did you? Or were you just working off of what he showed you of himself and not what your other coworkers said about him apparently bragging that you were the best. You couldn't really hear yourself think over the harsh breathing leaving your body as your tongues crashed and prodded one another.

Whether you magically landed on the bed out of nowhere or whether Jungkook put your there wasn't important what was important was that he needed you. Since that day you walked in he couldn't fathom the threat of someone who worked harder than him. And beautiful too?! Might as well make him your assistant and call you the CEO. Not to mention him just plain out being a jerk for no reason, he kept it up because you'd think he was a dirty liar if he actually tried to apologize and makeup for his actions.

Jungkook furiously unbuttoned his shirt. Thoughts of you with your legs wrapped around his torso that have been haunting him since you told him off your third month at the company were too strong. They blinded his work ethic. Yes, reports needed to be done, but feeling you against him was twice as important. No, way more important.

He'd have time to enjoy your body, kiss every part of you later, now he needed you.

You had no time to worry about reports. Damn your sexual frustration and your messy hair. Your clothes discarded who knew where, you were too ready for him to care. (I hate myself but I'm not changing the scentence.)

Even thought he couldn't wait, he still wanted to care for you, he gently pinned your arms above your head as he slowly lowered himself into you. The sound of water sounded strange in your ears as the noises got faster and louder, gradually of course. Almost gracefully, your name escaped his lips, followed by a grunt of appreciation.

"Fuck!" Jungkook grunted. "Fuck I'm gonna-" he groaned. His thrusts grew slower and less calculated. His jaw went slack as more unintelligible sounds spilled from his mouth.

You nearly screamed his name but was muffled by Jungkook's mouth colliding with yours. An effective, yet seemingly messy way of shutting you up. You shook furiously under him, tightening around his length. Screams echoed through the room, yours and his.

You yawned tiredly collapsing onto the plush surface, your eyes grew very heavy as Jungkook laid next to you.

"I'm sorry. If I wasn't such an asshole to you when we first met." he sighed. "We would have gotten to this place a lot quicker." he laughed dryly.

"That's not funny." you whined, burying your head into the pillow next to your head. "Watch the hair next time, you probably made a tangle I won't be able to get out." you sighed, trying to fix your hair.

"Go to sleep, I promise I'll wake you up. We can ride to work tomorrow." Jungkook chuckled traced soothing lines on your hip, making you smile. "After we have breakfast together."

"Okay." you yawned, drafting off. "I like (insert favorite breakfast food.)" you hinted. You suddenly realized something "Jungkook?"

"Yes beautiful?"

" I always send copies or reports to everyone else in the office, including your personal email. There would be no way those reports were lost unless someone moved them to a different folder...."

"Wait a minute." Jungkook mumbled. "You don't think anyone at the office had anything to do with this, do you?"

"Too sleepy to care, but most definitely." you yawned. "We'll deal with it later." you yawned. "Sleeeepp" you whined, poking Jungkook's nose. You didn't have time to hear him chuckle at your mannerisms as you drifted off.

#bts smut #hoseok smut #jimin smut #jungkook smut #kpop imagines #namjoon smut #seokjin smut #taehyung smut #yoongi smut #bts imagines #bts scenarios #kpop scenarios #kpop smut #imagines #smut #kpop imagine #jungkook imagine #jeon jungkook

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hermioneshandbag · 6 years

Text

Just Another Day, Part 2*

Sirius woke up to the morning light peeking in between the curtains in his bedroom on Grimmauld Place. It was Christmas, his third since he had escaped from Azkaban, and while it was sure to be more festive than the last two, what with Harry, Hermione and the Weasleys about, he was missing rather the most important part of himself.

He had basically forced you to go. You hadn’t wanted to, had fought him on the subject, said your place was at his side. You were to be married, you’d said. You belonged together. But he had told you it was for the best, that you couldn’t present your escaped prisoner fiance to the family and then say, ‘Pass the pudding!’

So there was no warm, sleeping woman in his bed, hand on his heart and legs tangled with his, on the verge of waking up and telling him you loved him. No darling, amazing woman to tempt him into lovemaking, possibly annoying Molly by forgetting the Silencing charm. No love of his life to make being back in this godforsaken hellhole remotely tolerable.

You had been gone less than a week and he was already a wreck, drinking too much and spending all his time attempting to forget how much he missed you.

He supposed his loneliness was his own fault, as were most of the worst things that had occurred in his life. Yet, as much as he missed you, he couldn’t help but feel that this one time, he got it right. It was what was best for you. His own pain mattered little next to that.

So Sirius crawled out of bed, had a shower, got dressed and put on his happy face. Harry and the others had enough tragedy with what had happened to Arthur, they didn’t need a mopey mongrel on their hands as well.

He helped Molly with Christmas luncheon as much as she would allow, he played host, he laughed at the twins’ jokes and pretended to be enjoying the holiday, but inside he was dying. Bloody hell, he missed you. Love was fucking fantastic when you were with him, but when you left and took his heart it was bleeding awful.

But Sirius went through the motions of holiday cheer for the benefit of his guests. He knew that they would all leave him alone soon enough when they went to visit Arthur, so he held it together for another hour or so.

But then he retreated to his bedroom and a bottle.

You should be here with him. The more he drank, the more he regretted sending you away. The more he regretted it, the more he drank. And so he decided he had better put you out of his mind and hunt down Kreacher.

He found the nasty little bugger in the attic, probably rolling in some cache of his family’s cast-offs as if they were the most valuable treasures. He set him to work cleaning up after luncheon and went back to his bedroom.

He heard a noise in the hallway and bellowed, “Kreacher, you’re meant to be in the kitchen!”

Footsteps stopped right outside his door and suddenly Sirius realized that it wasn’t Kreacher. It was far too soon for Harry to have returned, so who could it be? Sirius drew his wand and tiptoed over to the door and flung it open, ready for a fight.

You shrieked when Sirius had thrown open the door, wand in hand and ready to attack. Your hands had been full of bags and a couple boxes, a combination of excitement and laziness making you attempt to carry everything up the stairs to your room in one trip.

“Y/N, what are you doing here?” Sirius slurred.

“Hello to you, too, Sirius. You seem like you’re doing well without me.”

“I’ve been drinking,” he whispered confidentially.

“I figured that out on my own,” you whispered back, and then you dropped everything and threw yourself into his arms and kissed the breath out of him.

“You’re not supposed to be back until after the new year, what are you doing home?” Sirius asked you happily.

“I missed you, and I realized that I needed to be with you on Christmas. They’re my family, but you’re my life. I never want to be apart again, Sirius. Don’t you dare send me off to visit again until you can come with me,” you said sternly, then softened the words with another kiss.

Sirius picked you up and backed into the room, kicking the door shut. Your bags could wait til later, he needed to touch you now.

“You have no idea how much I’ve missed you,” he groaned, laying you in the unmade bed and kissing you passionately as he lay beside you.

You ran your hand down his chest and over the bulge in his trousers. “I have a feeling I do, actually,” you said as you gently squeezed his hardening length.

Sirius groaned and kissed you, his tongue assaulting your mouth in his frenzy. You may have been gone for less than a week, but for Sirius, the center of his universe had gone from him. There had been no life, no joy – at times he felt there had been no air for him to breathe while you were gone. He needed to be one with you again to come back to life.

You frantically tore at each other’s clothes; at times literally when you heard the rending of fabric. “Need you, Sirius, missed you so much,” you moaned as his lips and hands roamed over your skin as if to assure himself you were really with him again.

You rolled him over and straddled him, not in the mood for his teasing, but maybe you could stand to do a little teasing of your own. “Are you sorry you sent me away, you naughty boy?” you crooned as you ran your fingernails down his chest lightly.

Sirius’ hips snapped up, desperate to be inside you. “So sorry, love. Never happen again,” he groaned, gripping your hips and attempting to guide you to ride him.

You resisted his efforts, saying, “Hmm, I think you need to show me how sorry you are.”

“Trying to, love,” he grumbled.

“I think you need to be punished,” you said, tapping your chin with one finger.

“I definitely have suffered enough, darling, I missed you so much,” he said, pulling your hips forward now. “But maybe I can make it up to you.”

As you slid nearer, he kissed your thighs, his scruffy beard scraping deliciously against that sensitive skin. He then proceeded to tease and twirl his tongue between your folds and across your clit until you came undone.

As you collapsed against him in ecstasy, Sirius rolled you over onto your back and crawled up to kiss you. “Am I forgiven?”

“I dunno, was that a punishment for you?” you asked.

“Merlin, no. That was a reward.”

“Hmmmm then I’m not sure… let’s see what you can do to make it up to me with this,” you said, reaching between your bodies to gently squeeze his dripping cock.

Sirius dropped his head onto your shoulder and groaned, trying to calm his body. When you did things like that he felt like an inexperienced boy, about to come before he was even inside you.

When he took a deep breath and regained control, he bit your neck in the spot that drove you crazy, marking you as his. “Mine,” he growled.

“As if I would ever let anyone else touch me,” you scoffed, then growled back, “and you better damn well not let anyone touch you, either.”

“The idea is repulsive, I assure you.”

You bit his earlobe and whispered, “Then fuck me, Sirius, now.”

He slid into you in one harsh thrust, both of you groaning at the tight heat. He was not entirely in control and knew he wasn’t going to last long. You felt too good and he had missed you too much, to the point he hadn’t even scratched his own itch, he had simply been too miserable.

“Merlin, I fucking missed you so much, Y/N, love you so much,” he practically shouted.

“Baby, yes, Sirius harder YES YES!” you screamed, completely enraptured with the feelings your joining created.

“Love, fuck, so close,” he said loudly, reaching between you to rub and pinch your clit, hips a blur as you both reached your highs together. “Fuck, Y/N, love you so much!”

“Sirius, yes oh fucking hell yes!!”

You both screamed some unintelligible gratitude when you came, then panted and kissed your way through the aftershocks.

“Missed you so much, my love,” he whispered as he kissed you reverently.

“Darling, I was miserable without you. My family were happy to see the back of me. And they want to meet you as soon as it’s safe.”

“You told them about me?” he gasped, actively horrified.

“I am proud that I will be your wife, and I only told Mum and Dad. You are my world, Sirius Black, and I will be damned if I am going to deny you to my parents,” you said stubbornly.

Sirius was floored by your devotion. “I love you. I am ever grateful that you have blessed my life with yours.”

“I love you, too, my darling. You are the absolute best man I know.”

“I have no idea why you believe that, but I shan’t question my good fortune,” he said, kissing you gently.

“Let’s grab a shower, you’ve made me all sweaty, you naughty monkey.”

“Let’s get a bit sweatier first. Might as well make the shower worth our while,” he said with a wink and a leer.

“What a wonderful idea,” you purred. “This time I’ll saddle you up a bit lower.”

You got cleaned up and dressed and went downstairs together, going into the kitchen for a snack when you were met with several snickering teens, Fred and George who jumped up and congratulated Sirius, saying they hoped to be as spry when they were as old as he, an amused Remus and an irritated, red-faced Molly.

“I expect you two have had a happy Christmas,” she said in a bit of a miffed tone.

Your eyes grew big and Sirius started laughing.

“Silencing charms, you two, really,” Remus said in a half-scolding, half-amused tone of voice.

“Merry Christmas?” you said, red-faced but happy to be back where you belonged.

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the-lupine-sojourner · 6 years

Text

Takara’s Hero Academia, Season 1 Finale [Eijiro Kirishima/OC] [Female!Aizawa/Hizashi]

wOwIe!! We’re already at the Season 1 finale!?!? Geez, it feels like yesterday I got up the courage to post the bio for Takara and wrap up proof-reading the prologue! I want to give a huge thank you to everyone that’s been here with me on this journey and I hope you all will stick around for the other two seasons (and as long as the anime goes, honestly. I love it so much! :) )

Okay! Now, for the taglist: @elite-guard-hardygal, @dailyojiromashirao/@souskena, and @fandoms-fandoms-everywhere99. Love you all and hope you guys like this update! I can’t wait to share the next seasons with you all!

Before we get to the story, here’s the Masterlist for this story.

God Bless and Good Day!

~The Lupine Sojourner

(I know this isn’t an MHA GiF, but I think of Takara as looking similar to this girl, and...yeah. Sad baby girl warning! T^T)

“Your Class Rep has returned! And I brought reinforcements!” Tenya’s voice calls out next. I smile a bit. Go, Tenya!

“Shota!” I hear Dad scream in outrage, terror, and shock. “No, no, no! Shota!” Eijiro then grits his teeth and apologizes as he rushes up the last section of stairs and I can’t help screaming in pain as he finally gets to the top and collapses, panting heavily.

“She needs help!” Eijiro screams, and I finally notice that the reason his voice sounded so thick was because he was fighting tears. He’d lost the fight now and held me, sobbing. Dad, teary-eyed, immediately rushes over from where he’d been surveying Mom’s many injuries.

“Tik-Tak!” He sobs, and I give him a weak smile. “Not you, too...no...” I feel a painful pang in my heart at Dad’s voice.

“D-don’t worry.” I mumble. “You should see the other guy.” I joke, but he just starts crying, hands on my shoulders, hair tickling my nose as he ducks his head. “Dad...I’ll be okay. Recovery Girl will fix us, don’t- -Dad!” I cry, but Dad doesn’t listen, standing and walking with a troubling sudden calm toward the edge of the stairs.

“Cover Takara’s ears.” He instructs and Eijiro moves to do so, but I shake my head, covering my own ears as Eijiro covers his.

Dad then unleashes a scream that makes the building tremble as much as it had during All Might and Nomu’s fight. I can hear the pain and devastation in his voice and tears stream down my face.

Dad...this wasn’t your fault. I promise!

After the villains had been subjected to Dad’s scream of pain and rage, the teacher began to filter away to find the other students of 1-A. 13 asks to be helped up as Snipe fires on the two leaders to keep them from running, but it didn’t appear to be working. “We need someone who can capture from a distance!” He growls. 13 slowly hobbles over.

“Leave it to me.” She replies, opening her gloves and activating her Quirk.

“Is it working?” I ask no one in particular. Ochaco shakes her head moments later.

“No. It was too far a distance and the villain’s warp Quirk is too quick.” I grit my teeth angrily.

“Crap.” I’d hoped we could capture the villains’ leaders, but at least Kurogiri was smart enough to run. Tomura, though...he was something else. I didn’t understand him at all.

“Our priority is making sure all our students are safe.” Nezu instructs and the teachers nod, moving to round up the villains and I try to move and- -I’m not sure what I’d do, but I was through just laying around like a useless doll!

“Hey, save your strength.” Dad says, suddenly by my side again, gently pressing on my shoulders to make me stay still. “Tik-Tak, we need to get you to an ambulance. It’s the fastest way back to the hospital. Recovery Girl is meeting you and Shota there.” I nod, dreading the vibrating and the jostling already, not to mention the actual treatment of my broken bones, but I had no other choice.

“Okay.” I reply. He cups my cheek and kisses my forehead.

“I’ll see you as soon as we’re done here, okay?” I nod again.

“Sounds good. I love you.” He smiles sadly at me and kissing my temple.

“I love you, too, Takara.” He replies, then stands and puts a hand on Eijiro’s shoulder. “Take care of her, okay?” He asks, voice serious. He hardly ever uses my first name…

“I will.” Eijiro promises and Dad then races off. I bite my lip. He was mad at himself and the villains, I can tell, but we’d have to talk later. Eijiro gently stands up, tears still in his eyes. “Don’t worry.” He whimpers, trying to sound brave and confident. I smile at him.

“I won’t.” I assure him as Eijiro lifts me and Shoji lifts Mom and we all make our way outside to the ambulance. Hounddog’s gruff, unintelligible speech almost makes me laugh as he offers to carry me (Eijiro declines), then he leaves. Eijiro sits beside me and Mom is loaded into a different ambulance with Mezo laying her on the gurney and then closing the door after her.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t be there to help.” Eijiro mumbles, voice thick and tears leaking out again as the ambulance begins to drive, the paramedic beginning to treat my leg and other wounds, remaining silent.

“Don’t be sorry. We all had villains to deal with.” I reply, voice trembling with the pain of having my leg bones set so they could splint it until they got to the hospital. Eijiro sighs.

“Still. I had you in my arms when that guy started warping us away! If I’d just held on- -”

“Eijiro, you’re not to blame.” I interrupt. “Seriously. The only ones to blame are the villains. They‘re the ones that attacked. What happened happened and we can’t change it.” I add thickly, swallowing. “We all did what we could.” Why do I still feel so guilty, then? Why do I still feel like there was so much more I could’ve done?! I growl inwardly, frustrated beyond belief.

“Sorry to interrupt, but I have to sit you up now, okay?” The paramedic, an African-American with dreadlocks asks, looking a little sheepish at having to interrupt our conversation. I grimace, but nod. Eijiro then helps the man sit me up as smooth and gentle as possible. I still hiss in agony, then the man pales the more he has to mess with my ribs. “Dear God! Kid, yo-your ribs...the ribcage is almost collapsed! What happened?!” I bite my lip, trying not to cry or scream as he begins setting my ribs.

“One of the villains was - - was super strong and I couldn’t dodge him. He- -” I hiss as I feel my ribs being adjusted back to their proper place, “he smashed me into the ground then threw me against a fountain.” My voice and breath comes in fits and bursts until the paramedic is done.

“Holy shit, kiddo. You are one tough girl.” The paramedic (Rinjor, the nametag read) muses with a whistle as he continues treating my ribs. Only now do I realize I’d been squeezing Eijiro’s hand. I blush and let go. “There. All done. I’m sorry. You did a great job.” We soon arrive at the hospital and I carted inside and happen to see the other ambulance with Mom being taken out of it. She’s covered in bandages, her arms completely encased in casts.

Eijiro came in with us, but as he had no relation to me, he was told to wait in the waiting room.

Mom and I end up in the same room, probably because she’s my legal guardian. I bite my lip and try not to cry as the doctors and nurses finish Rinjor’s work. As often as I can, I am watching Mom being treated. It’s probably masochistic, but I can’t help it. She looks so frail and broken, laying there…

Finally, I’m alone with Mom, the beeping of our vital sign monitors and our breathing the only sounds.

Finally, I let my tears out. It hurt to sob, it hurt to breathe, everything hurt and I couldn’t keep it in any more. We’d survived, but I’d heard a doctor telling someone on the phone (Dad? Someone at the school? The police?) that Mom’s arms were splintered, with facial fracturing to boot. But that wasn’t the worst of it.

No, the worst part was that the orbital floors in her eyes were severely damaged.

She...she could be blind! I lay there, waiting for the painkiller in my IV to kick in, tears still leaking out. I felt horrible, and not just my body.

Dad’s reaction hadn’t been something I wanted to witness, but I suppose it was bound to happen eventually. He’d been so devastated. His words rang in my head on repeat and I felt guilty all over again.

“Lemme guess; I should see the other guy.” A voice muses wryly from the doorway, snapping me from my thoughts. I look over and see Shinso standing there. I give him a small smirk.

“You know it.” He comes further into the room.

“In all seriousness, Takara; what happened?”

“Rescue training ended up as a villain attack.” I surmise, sighing. “One of the guys was this really...really strong guy - -thing- -the leader called Nomu that was supposed to be able to defeat All Might.”

“I take it this Nomu thing did this to you?” I grimace, the memory of that instant playing. It all happened so fast…

I swallow and fiddle with a corner of my sheets. “...Yeah. I couldn’t get Mom and I out of his range fast enough, ended up smashed against the ground.” Shinso grimaces.

“Ouch.”

“Yeah. Then thrown into a fountain.” He winches.

“...Well, at least you’re stable.” I then blink.

“Wait...how are you here? Dad bring you?” Shinso nods.

“He told me you were in the hospital and that there’d been a villain attack. I agreed to ride with him. He’s...not as excitable as I thought he’d be.” I bite my lip. That wasn’t like Dad.

“...” Before I can reply, I see Dad slowly inch into the room. He refused to look up from the floor. “Hey, Dad!” I greet, hoping sounding fairly cheerful might help. He glances at me and his lips try for a smile, it doesn’t work, then I notice his eyes; teary, unfocused...listless. It was obvious he’d been crying. A lot.

“H-hey, Tik-Tak.” He mumbles, lip trembling as he speaks. He glances at Mom’s bed. “Shota’s still out?” It was probably a rhetorical question, but I answer anyway.

“Yeah, but the doctors are hopeful she’ll be awake soon. They got her on the same painkillers they have me on, so she’ll feel better in no time.” Dad sighs heavily, sitting in the chair in front of my bed, head bowed.

“Takara, I should have been here.” It was practically a sob, and I blink several times. How could he blame himself for this?

“Dad, stop it. You’re a teacher, too. You have your own class- -”

“That’s just it. I was in between classes, grading damn papers when they told me what happened at the USJ. I told Shota I could stop by, but your mom said I should focus on getting the grading done. If I had stopped by, anyway…”

“Dad, please. This is pointless.” I reply gently, swallowing a lump in my throat. “We’re going to be okay. As soon as Recovery Girl gets here, she’ll fix us right up and it’ll be okay. Please don’t beat yourself up.” It seems that was the wrong thing to say, because next second, Dad’s sobbing uncontrollably. Absently, I note Shinso walking toward the door. I don’t really blame him, so I don’t bring attention to his departure.

“Sh-she could be blind, Takara!” He exclaims, finally looking at me. “My wife might be blind and I can’t do anything and we don’t know and I hate this! I hate this waiting!” He was verging on hysterical, standing and gesturing wildly as he spoke, running frenzied hands through his hair. “And to make it worse, my kid’s beat to hell! Your ribcage was almost collapsed, Takara!” I’d never seen him like this. The closest had been that one day I freaked out after breaking a glass. I bite my lip.

“Might.” I emphasize. “Mom might be blind. My ribcage was almost collapsed. We know my ribs will heal, and there’s no way to know the condition of Mom’s eyes for sure til she wakes up, so let’s not stress out, okay?” It was probably something Mom would say, and I knew what I was saying was true. There were a lot of unknowns right now. Dad looks at me mid-gesture, freezing in place. For several seconds, there was silence.

Shinso’s voice breaks the silence. “She’s right. Mr. Yamada, we can’t know Mrs. Yamada’s condition fully til she wakes up, so please. Just sit, drink this, and calm down.” He had a cup of what smelled like chamomile tea. Dad takes it and sits, sipping it gratefully. I then notice Eijiro entering the room, as well. I smile.

“Hey. Finally let you come back here, huh?” He nods.

“Yeah. How you doing?” I sigh.

“Better now I’ve had some painkillers, but it still hurts to move. The bones in my leg were badly damaged, the doctor said, and my ribcage almost collapsed, apparently. But as long as I get some rest and healing from Recovery Girl, I’ll be okay.” Eijiro looks away.

“You’re so brave, Takara.” I blush and blink several times. He thought I was brave?

“What?” He turns his head and I see a sheepish smile on his face.

“Well, yeah. You fought off those villains, and you fought through the pain, still trying to help. That takes a lot of guts.” He puts his hand on my shoulder. “I’m just sorry I couldn’t help you sooner.”

“Don’t be. You got me out of the way. I couldn’t walk with my legs and ribs.” Dad winces, sipping the tea before speaking.

“I was told you were involved in the fight Shota was in with the villains. That true?” I nod.

“Yessir. One of the villains, a guy with a warping Quirk named Kurogiri, decided to scatter all of us around the building. I think he knew I was a Yamada, and sent me to Mom as a way to unbalance her.”

“Can you tell me more about that?” Comes a new female voice. I look over to see a police officer standing in the doorway. “Hate to interrupt, but I’m Officer Haragan, and I need to get this young woman’s statement, and I was hoping Eraserhead would be able to give one, as well, but I see I’ll have to wait.” Her eyes flick to Mom’s bed, a wince almost hidden by her wild half-buzzed brown hair as she walks over.

“Okay, Officer Haragan.” I reply. Dad offers the officer the seat and she took it, drawing out a recording device.

“Is it okay if I record this conversation?”

“Yeah, that’s okay.” Officer Haragan nods, clearing her throat.

“Officer Haragan, recording Takara Yamada’s statement regarding the attack in the Unforeseen Simulation Joint today at UA High School.” She begins, leaning a little toward me. “So, if you please, Ms. Yamada, can you start at the point the villains arrived?” I nod.

“Of course. We were just about to start the rescue training we were supposed to be doing, despite All Might not being able to be there as planned, but as soon as we did, we noticed the lights going out, then I happened to look down at the fountain in the middle of the different rescue simulation areas. I saw it flickering on and off before a swirling mass of purple smoke I later knew was a warpgate appeared. I warned Mom- -I mean, Eraserhead, who was teaching the class with 13- -” The officer smiles and motions for me to continue, “and she turned as several villains came out of the widening warpgate. Mom instructed us to stay with 13 and got ready to fight, and then after my friend, Izuku Midoriya, protested, Mom went to fight the group.” I swallow, taking a breath to collect myself as I continue. This was kinda hard to describe so soon after it happened. As I got to the moment Nomu slammed me into the ground, I had to stop and try to steady my heart rate, which had spiked as the memory flashed in my head on repeat. Dad gently grabbed my hand and I squeeze it gratefully. I continue my descriptions and keep myself relatively composed, looking squarely at my sheets, unable to watch everyone’s reactions. Dad’s hand grew tighter around mine, and I hear gasps and shifting as I get to the more intense parts. Once I’m done, I realize there are tears in Dad’s eyes again, and that Eijiro and Shinso are staring at me, expressions unreadable. Officer Haragan blinks a few times, then clears her throat again.

“That’ll be all, Ms. Yamada, unless there’s something else you want to add to your statement?” I shake my head.

“No, there’s nothing else I need to add. I hope my statement helps the investigation.” I reply. Officer Haragan ends the recording and stands, smiling at me.

“I’m sure it will. You’re a very, very brave girl, Takara. Get some rest now, okay?” I smile back and nod.

“I will. Thank you.” Once we’re alone, Shinso moves closer.

“I had no idea it was that bad, Takara. You could’ve died.” He whispers, and I swear there are tears in his eyes. I sigh.

“It was pretty scary, but all I wanted was to protect Mom...and I couldn’t do that. I couldn’t get us out of the way, and then I got too hurt to fight back when Mom was attacked by Nomu.” I whimper, tears surfacing again. I sniffle, but then Dad’s arms are around me and it’s thanks to the painkillers that I don’t flinch or feel much of anything in my ribs.

“Sweetheart...you did amazing! You held your own against all those villains and used your Quirk very well. There wasn’t anything else at all you could have done, and don’t let anyone or yourself tell you otherwise, got it?” he’d pulled back to lift my chin up so we were looking each other in the eyes and I could see how serious he was. I sniffle and nod, tears leaking down my face.

“I just...watching Mom get hurt...it hurt more than my ribs or my leg.” I sob.

“I could say the same about my face and my arms.” Comes a very weak, muffled version of my mom’s voice. Instantly, everyone turns to look at her. I can’t tell if her eyes are open through the bandages, but she has her head turned to us. “Takara, please do not beat yourself up for how you handled that battle. You were amazing. The only one to blame is Nomu and that disintegrating villain.” I squirm, picking at my sheets guiltily. I didn’t deserve what everyone said about how I fought...I was useless!

“But, Mom...I was trying to protect you, and I couldn’t, and you got hurt and- -”

“Kara, stop. There’s no point arguing with me. You couldn’t have fought harder and my condition is not your fault.” I wipe my eyes.

“Thanks, Mom.” I mumble, hiccuping, which hurt a lot.

“Now, stop crying and call the doctor. I need to get these bandages off my eyes.” Dad stands and we exchange a worried glance.

“Shota...there was a lot of damage to your orbital floors. Recovery Girl is on her way. Please, let’s wait til she gets here and heals you to test your vision.” I hear Mom hum in thought.

“...You’re right. We should tell the doctor I’m awake, though.” I nod.

“The police might want to take your statement, too.” I muse. “An officer stopped by and I gave my statement.”

“I see. That’s good. As a pro hero and teacher, they might want me to give my statement, as well.” I take a breath.

This was okay. We’d been hurt, but we were healing, we were together, and that’s what matters.

#Fanfiction #OC Insertion Series #MHA #BNHA #OC #Original Character #Original Female Character #Takara Yamada (OC)#Eijiro Kirishima #Eijiro Kirishima X OC #Eijiro Kirishima/Takara Yamada

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sickdaysofficial · 6 years

Text

Cracks in the surface

A story by xxx-cat-xxx.

Submitted for 12th of August, Bodily Fluids

Fandom: Marvel

Characters: Tony Stark, Peter Parker, Natasha Romanoff

Summary: Tony is badly injured on a mission with only Peter there to take care of him.

Tags/Warnings: Injury, blood, vomiting, a bit of PTSD and anxiety.

———-

When Peter had wished for an adventurous weekend, he definitely hadn´t meant it in a way that included a building collapsing on him.

Everything happened awfully fast. One minute he and Tony were duelling a pair of rather stupid criminals in a broken-down office building at the edge of the city, which was fun, all considered. Nat was somewhere outside chasing a third guy that had managed to escape. The next moment one of the suspects fired a blast at Tony that was deflected by his armour and instead hit the ceiling, and then everything dissolved into noisiness and rubble.

When the dust had settled, the first thing Peter noticed was that his ear-piece was missing. Then he realized that he was buried chest-deep in a heap of rubble.

“Mr Stark?” he shouted as loud as he could, the dusty air making him cough. “Mr Stark, are you there?”

The response came late and somewhat slurred, but Peter attributed this to the blood still rushing in his ears.

"What happened, kid? You injured?“

"No, I´m okay, just pretty sore….” Peter was already making his way out of the mess, looking around for his mentor.

"So, Parker, to continue with our afternoon lesson of fight strategies,” Tony´s voice said from the far corner of the room, “this is a perfect example of what you should try to avoid. Don´t let a building drop on you…just don´t…” He broke off coughing.

"Mr Stark, are you alright?“ Peter asked, walking towards him as fast as he could, aware of the deep cracks in the floor that were growing with each of his steps.

"Don´t worry kid, just a scratch. Might´a hit my head, though. Believe it or not, I´m actually glad that I took you out for a Kindergarden trip today. I´m kinda stuck here, to be honest. Looks like Friday decided to break up with me today of all days. I´m completely out of charge. You don´t happen to have a working communication device, do you?”

“No, it got lost in the crash….”

Peter frowned as the Iron Man armour came into view, most of it buried under what looked like at least half of a story. He started to remove the pieces of debris and worriedly bit his cheek when he saw what was lying below. The suit had taken heavy hits. The faceplate was bent beyond repair, and when Tony tried to remove it while Peter was shifting the last pieces of rubble, he couldn´t help but realize that the older man´s fingers were trembling. When he had finally managed to get rid of the plate, Tony´s face came into view, heavily bruised and definitely a few shades paler than usually.

"Mr Stark, what happened? You really don´t look fine.“

Instead of a reply, Tony yanked the helmet from his sweaty curls with a curse, ripped something out of it and started to chew on it.

“You - you are eating your tech?” Peter asks incredulously. Was this a sign of concussion?

“Sure kid. You know, I’m about to turn into a cyborg so that we can contact the mothership to beam us up,” Tony said between trying to crash whatever was in his mouth with his teeth. Peter just stared at him.

“No, genius, I am trying to access the communicator to get us help.“

Something in his mouth gave and audible crack and he smiled, though it quickly turned into a grimace.

“Ah, here we have the little baby,” he said, spitting out a mess of wires and metal. He connected the pieces to some cables sticking from his suit, causing a few sparks to singe the hairs on his forearm.

“I knew you had some reserves stored somewhere, old friend…”, he said while absent-mindedly patting the armour.

It took only a few minutes and an admiring glance by Peter till the device came alive with static.

“-you can… me…Tony? Pet…“

It was extremely distorted, but it was Nat´s voice.

“Hey, Romanov, you good?”

“Stark? God, what took you so long?”

“Ya, got a little tech problem here. Where are the suspects?”

“Mine is straight on his way to jail. Can´t locate the others right now, but since they were in the building when it collapsed, I doubt they made it far.”

“One thing less to worry about… Listen, I´m running on some pretty volatile current right now, and I don´t know how much longer this thing´s gonna work. We’re trapped in the eighth floor, West side, the office with the largest window front – “

“Figured that, genius, I saw the building coming down on you. The problem is, it will take a butterfly coughing and the whole thing´s going to collapse for good. I’m not joking here. Just try to literally not move from your position or you might bring everything down. Nobody´s allowed to enter right now, but we’ll figure out a way to get you outta there. Just give us some time.” Then, after some more static: “The kid’s alright?”

“I’m good,” Peter cut in, “but Mr Stark is-“

“Okay dokey, we’ll make ourselved comfortable,” Tony cut him off “See you in a-“

“Hello? Stark, you there? Shit, I think I lost you-”

There was a loud crackle of static, and then no noise at all.

———-

“I´m never going to eat canned seafood ever again. What an awful feeling to be peeled out of a metal box.” Tony complained while trying in vain to remove the shoulder piece of his armour. He had been talking even more than usual, and Peter had been wondering what he was trying to distract him from. He kneeled down to help Tony with the armour when he noticed something wet soaking the fabric of his jeans. He looked down and nearly jumped at what he saw. There was blood on the ground, lots of it. He traced it back to its origin and discovered a metal shard, at least as long as his forearm, halfway concealed by the rubble, that had pierced deeply into Tony´s body just at the height of his hips. It must have come down with an incredible force, considering that it had managed to penetrate the armour.

“Mr Stark, there’s a hole in your side!” he gasped.

Tony tried and failed to act surprised. “Oh fuck, did it cut my armour? It’s gonna take a week to fix the circuits, dammit.” His voice was shaking, sweat beading his brow despite the coldness of the air.

“This is what you’re worried about right now? Your suit?”

“Can we at least pretend that my distraction tactics work on you?”

Peter just looked at him.

“No? Fine.” Tony sighed, clenching his jaw. “Then get this piece of metal out of here before it turns rusty.”

Peter bent closer to inspect the way the shard was pierced into Tony, but all he could see was blood, way too much of it. He could feel panic rising in his throat, the reality of it all crushing down on him. He had wanted real missions, adventures, but not this. He wanted to be an Avenger, and he did know that this involved seeing people get hurt. But it wasn´t supposed to be the people on his side, and definitely not the one person whose guidance he relied most on. He wasn´t made for this, for pulling a metal shard out of the man who had always seemed invulnerably to him - it was Mr Stark, after all, and he just couldn´t bleed out here in front of him -

“Pete, breathe. Just breathe, come on. You can do that, it´s not so hard, I promise.”

He tried, but he felt like the oxygen wasn´t reaching his brain. Black spots were appearing at the edge of his vision.

“Spiderman! Look at me!”

The sharpness of the voice pulled him out of it. He glanced at Tony´s brown eyes that were radiating confidence, but he couldn´t help to notice the pain set in the wrinkles around them. He realized that both of them were shaking. Iron Man needed help, what was he doing sitting here and panicking?

“I- I´m so sorry, I-“

"It´s alright kid. Happens to the best of us, believe me. Just calm down and then give me a hand here, will ya? I kinda think I really shouldn´t lose any more blood, or we´ll start attracting vampires….” he trailed off, face rigid from the pain he was trying not to let show.

“Okay.” Peter breathed. “Okay, what exactly should I do?”

“Just remove that damn thing. Try to do it in one go, if you can. If I pass out-“

"You´re gonna pass out?” his voice was an octave higher than usually.

“Of course I won´t do it intentionally, idiot. But if I do, just stem the blood flow, I don´t wanna end up like a god-damn Jack the Ripper victim…

Peter took a deep breathe. He tried to steady his hands, and then gripped the shard and pulled. The metal piece came out with a wet and ugly noise that nearly made Peter gag. Tony was desperately trying to keep blank expression on, but then his face screwed up in agony and he let out a whimper that turned into a gasp when the pain hit fully. The amount of blood flowing from the wound increased rapidly, and his eyes rolled back into his head.

“No, no, no,” Peter whispered frantically, “Stay here, Mr Stark, please.”

“Don’ worry,” Tony mumbled, his eyelids fluttering, “You´re not getting rid of me that easily.”

———-

“Mr Stark?”

There was no reply. Tony was lying on the ground where Peter had tried to make him comfortable, his arm cradling the injured side that was now covered with a makeshift bandage from the button-down he´d been wearing above his T-shirt.

He looked like a wreck, and not only because he was drenched in blood and dust. Everything about him was radiating a deep-bone exhaustion, and he suddenly looked years older than usually, vulnerable and tired in a way Peter had never seen before. The dark shadows under his eyes were definitely not just a result of today´s unfortunate episode, but suggested that the last time Tony had gotten a full night´s sleep lay a long time back.

And Peter could understand why. Eyes shut tight against the pain, Tony´s pupils were moving frantically behind his eyelids, his lips forming unintelligible words that could only belong to a nightmare. Peter had tried to cover him with parts of the room´s original carpet, but Tony was still shivering hard, the blood loss taking its toll. He shifted a little and moaned quietly, something he would never allow himself in front of Peter in a less-delirious non-concussed state. Peter had been debating whether or not to wake him up, but he knew that Tony definitely wouldn´t want him to witness one of his PTSD dreams.

“Mr Stark?” He prompted again. Tony stirred.

“Yinsen? No, don’t…” His eyes were darting across the rooms, his whole body tense and ready to fight.

“No, it´s – it´s Peter. Who on earth is Yinsen?”

“Huh?” Tony´s confused gaze found the boy, settled on him. “Where…?”

“We’re trapped in a building, Mr Stark, part of it fell on top of you. You got hurt and I think you have a concussion, you’re pretty out of it.”

“Well, that explains why I feel like puking all the time…” His eyes drifted close.

“No, please, I´m not supposed to let you sleep!”

Tony glanced at Peter again, seeming a little more lucid this time.

“Who told you that?”

“You, last time I got hit by that guy in the bee costume.”

“Well, that was valid for you, boy, not for me.” Peter was happy to have him talking, even if it was nonsense.

“And why is that?”

“Because I say so.” Tony sighed. He started to inspect himself, pushing the makeshift-blanket aside and frowning at what he discovered beneath.

“You know you aren’t making sense, right?”

“You know that you are a smart-ass?”

Tony coughed, and a few spots of blood appeared on the bandage. Peter swallowed nervously. If help didn´t come soon…Then they heard a faint rumbling from the heap of debris piled up where the windows were supposed to be. Peter desperately wished for it to be someone who had come to rescue them, not a sign of the house going down for good.

He looked at Tony, who was now pulling himself up on the wall, apparently trying to stand. Once he had reached a sitting position, his face paled even further, and he sagged against the wall.

“Give me some privacy, kid”, he groaned, before suddenly turning to the side with a wince and heaving remainders of his breakfast onto the broken floor.

“God,” he gasped and wiped his mouth, but more came up, and he seemed about to lose his balance. Peter was there in an instant, supporting him while the man was retching miserably, one hand pressed to the injured side and his face grimacing from the pain.

“This… sucks…,” he managed when he was finally done, and Peter could only agree. Tony was shivering hard under his hands.

“Let´s get you lying down?”, he suggested, unsure of how to help.

“Just…give me a moment, kid.” Tony panted, leaning his head against the wall and closing his eyes. He was still trying to get his nausea under control when the pile of debris at the other side of the room burst with a loud explosion that made both of them jump.

“What a glorious sight!” Nat shouted at them from the open door of a helicopter that was hovering outside what had once been a window. The afternoon sun that gleamed behind her gave her an otherworldly appearance. There was a cut on her cheek and her hair looked like she had just fallen out of her bed, but else she seemed unharmed.

“You definitely know how to make an entrance, Widow” Tony grinned weakly. “But we really need to work on your timing. What took you so long?”

“Told you, the building´s unstable as fuck. Took us ages to figure out how to blow a hole into it without everything collapsing immediately. Ok, no time for small-talk. I´m gonna throw these harnesses over to your side, they are meant to secure you in case you fall. You wear them and then you slowly walk over here, one by one. Is that clear?”

“Don´t you think you´re exaggerating?” Peter intermitted, scared at the thought of Tony having to walk unsupported. “I mean, there´s a few cracks in the floor, but it should be fine, right?”

“Pete, the ground you are standing on is literally being held by a single glass window front one floor below. Trust me if I tell you that you don’t want to try your luck.”

“Which luck is she talking about?” Tony mumbled, then looked at Peter who was already wearing the harness and had started to pull Tony upright.

The mere act of wearing the thing left Tony breathless and dizzy, Peter could tell from the way he was swaying lightly and clinging to him for support. He bit his lip in worry.

“Go slowly, ok?”, he told him, “Just try not to faint.”

Tony ignored him. “You go first, kid.”

“No, Mr Stark! You´re injured, you – “ Tony cut him off with a glance that managed to be intimidating despite the fact that he could barely keep himself upright.

“Peter, this is non-debatable. You can argue about this as long as you want, I´m not gonna change my mind. But time is kind of a critical factor right now, so please, just get moving.”

Peter gave the slumped figure a last concerned look, then proceeded to cross the room as fast as he could, willing his weight to actually equal that of a spider for once. He made it to the helicopter unharmed, but some of the cracks in the floor had started to spread, and he could practically feel the structure shaking.

“Mr Stark, your turn!”, he called as soon as Nat had pulled him into the vehicle. Tony didn´t acknowledge him, but started to drag himself into their direction, heavily leaning onto the wall for support.

“What´s wrong with him?” Nat asked when Tony stopped after a few steps and hunched over, gagging into the dirt.

Peter replied without turning his eyes away even for a second.

“He got hit by, like, half a floor or something. A metal shard cut open his whole side, and I think he´s got a concussion.” he informed her, trying not to let his voice shake.

“Oh.” Nat said, carefully taking in the man who was now upright again, moving towards them with painfully slow steps, and then “Looks pretty bad.”

Peter agreed silently. Tony had nearly made it, but he was swaying dangerously now, blood trickling down from his side and marking his walk over the ever-growing cracks in the floor. The way he was desperately trying to remain upright was agonizing to watch, and Peter didn´t even want to imagine how it must be feeling.

“Come on, Mr Stark, just a few more steps, you are nearly there!”

Tony looked at him for a second, panic written all over his face, and Peter´s spidey senses went into overload when a part of the floor broke away under his legs, causing him to collapse into a heap. It was enough to break the delicate balance of the building, and the whole thing seemed to give a moan when it started to crash down.

Peter saw it happening in as if in slow motion, and he had a split second to take a decision. Webbing himself to the ceiling of the helicopter, he swung out of its open door, Nat´s protest lost in the noise of the blood pounding in his ears. He caught Tony just when the rest of the floor under him carved in, grabbed him tight and maneuvered them back to the vehicle. Not a second too early, the whole building was coming down for good now. He landed hard, prompting a whimper from Tony, and just sat there for a few seconds while the helicopter gained speed, waiting for his adrenaline rush to die down.

“Dramatic last-second rescue,” Natasha smirked and pulled Peter up, “kind of reminds me of someone else… What did you teach him, Iron Man?” she teased while supporting Tony towards one of the helicopter´s seats.

But Tony was so out of it that he couldn´t even muster a grin, apparently having used up all his strength during the past few minutes. When she deposited him into a seat, he gagged weakly, not even bothering to lean forward, and brought up a slim stream of vomit that mixed with the blood on his shirt. His head rolled limply to the side, sweaty curls sticking to his forehead.

“Hold tight, Stark, it´s less than ten minutes to the hospital. Just don´t pass out on us yet”. Nat urged, already fiddling with a first-aid box she had taken from under the seat.

But Peter knew that wasn´t what was happening. He recognized the fear and fogginess in the older man´s eyes just before he shut them close, and he could feel that his breathing speed had doubled. He rested a hand on Tony´s shoulder, who flinched away.

“Mr Stark, it´s me, Peter. We´re save, we´re in a helicopter, it´s all good now.”

Peter´s fingers found Tony´s, squeezed them tight to make him understand that this was reality. He knew that in any situation other than this, it would be a clear overstepping of boundaries, but right now he didn´t care. Tony needed to know that he wasn´t alone in this world full of agony. Whatever the noise of the rotor blades and the movement of the helicopter were leading him to believe was happening, Peter was determined not to let him go through on his own.

He pressed his hand, and Tony didn´t pull it back. Instead, after a minute, his breathing slowed down, and he opened his eyes a tiny bit, taking in Peter, acknowledging his presence. And when he whispered, “Good job, Spiderman”, beneath all the panic and exhaustion and pain, Peter could glimpse a spark of gratefulness in the eyes of his mentor.

#injury tw #blood tw #building collapse #vomit tw #passing out #12 august 2018 #submission

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xxmgdreamsxx · 7 years

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Lurk Much?

Hey guys this is my 1st imagine on tumblr. The reader is a batfam sis and dating Jason. Y/N is your name.

It was about 10 at the manor and things were going pretty slow. You felt like being a hermit and had spent the last few hours holed up in your room and catching up on Archer while eating a variety of diabetes inducing junk food. You were stroking your food baby with one hand while the other reached out to grab the last Milano cookie. Fuck. The bag’s empty. “UUGGGHHHHH”, you groaned over-exaggerating the situation. Whining, you got up from your bed and trekked to the kitchen to grab more food necessities. After stuffing your face with the last slice of Alfred’s quiche you grabbed a new bag of milanos and started walking back to your room. That is, until you saw your boyfriend Jason in the hallway- looking through a slightly opened door with an amused look on his face. You rolled your eyes and called out to him as you walked towards him, “Lurk much, Todd?”. Jason’s head snapped up to meet your face and he proceeded to immediately shush you “SHHHH!” You rolled your eyes again- “Ok Stalker McStalker what’s so interesting?” “SHHHH!!” he glared at you and wrapped his hand around your mouth while bringing you to face the crack in the door. “Ok dear god Jason I’ll be quiet” you whispered “what is i-” You said as you peered inside the room “Holy Shizzz!!” you excitedly whispered screamed as you saw what was happening. On the far side of the room was Bruce talking to, well flirting, with a woman, while pouring them both drinks. “Oh my god! I didn’t even know she was over! I haven’t seen Bruce do something about his love life in so long! The closest thing I’ve seen to him being on a date was when he awkwardly invited Selina to brunch after she nearly killed him, and that was five months ago!!” you gushed. Jason’s snickered at your immature excitedness and went back to watching the history that was being made in the room. You strained to hear what they were saying. “So Mr. Wayn-” “Oh just Bruce, please” “Mhmm Bruce, such a lovely name. Although not as lovely as the time i’m spending with you”. You and Jason were both losing it at this point. “OMG this is gooold, we need to be filming this” you told Jason. “Babe yess” Jason responded “fuck i don't have my phone- UUGHHH where’s Tim when you need him. I bet he has a freaking professional camera set and everything.” “What do I have?” Tim asked as he walked up to the two of you. “AAHH” you and Jason gasped and turned around. “Well speak of the nerdy devil” Jason retorted. “Hey!” Tim cried. “SHHHHHH!!!!!” you scolded them. “What’s going on?” Tim asked “What are you guys looking at?”. You and Jason both looked at each and nodded before grabbing Tim’s arms and pulling him close to you. “Tim if you look, you’ll never be able to go back.” you said dramatically. Jason leaned in really close and whispered in a super serious tone “All of thou’s innocence shall crumble and thou shall become a MAN.” “ok guys what hell, your actually creeping me out here- Tim said. “Look.” you exclaimed and shoved Tim’s face through the door crack. “O my god.” Tim deadpanned. “I know right?!!” you giggled. Jason wrapped his arm around Tim’s shoulder “ See little bro? You should take some notes here and maybe you can actually talk to a girl for more than 2 minutes without fainting in the future”. “Hey!” “Yeah Jason that’s not nice, he talked to Steph for a good FIVE minutes before collapsing.” “In my defense I was severely dehydrated” Tim added. “Ok everyone shut up and watch” you scolded. You could see Bruce and his mystery date standing up near the fireplace and things were getting pretty heavy. “So Bruce what shall we do now?” “Well we could- You could see Bruce responding and trying to look all manly and seductive while reaching his arm back to rest on the table, but.. he missed. His hand missed the table by an inch and he slipped. It was too much and you lost it. You shrieked “OH MAN HAHAHA”. You quickly realized what you had done but it was too late. Bruce’s head snapped up and his gaze met yours and the rest of his spying children. ‘shit!” Jason groaned. “oh my god” you fumbled “guys we gotta run” You screamed “RUN!!” The three of you took off and fucking sprinted as fast as you could. You could feel the energy coursing through you as you madly giggled and ran. As y’all were running you rambled“Oh my god guys maybe he didn’t see exactly who it was like i don't know hah guys i can't i just can't oh mY GOD FUCKING RUN! RUN!!” “Y/n”! Jason yelled at you through heavy pants “If Bruce couldn’t tell who it was he knows now because of yoUR SCREAMING!” “OH SHIT THAT’S RIGHT” you cried out. Still running, you continued “IM SORRY GUYS I JUST HAVE SO MUCH ADRENALINE RIGHT NOW LIKE I HAVEN’T FELT THIS ALIVE SINCE I ACCIDENTALLY DRANK TIM’S 5 HOUR ENERGY ESPRESSO SMOOTHIE!! AND I- that was the last thing you unintelligibly yelled, as you tripped and face planted on the floor. Jason and Tim hadn’t even noticed you fell behind until you cried out in your best old english accent “ My good lord help me! I have fallen!” Jason whipped his head back dramatically and ran towards you” My good lady, fear not! I am here to rescue thou!” He grabbed you bridal style and continued “Where to, fair maiden?” You put on a serious look “Hhmm, OOH I KNOW, TO THE KITCHEN GOOD SIR. WE MUST GATHER PROVISIONS TO LAST US A FORTNIGHT IF WE MUST HAVE TO HIDE FROM THE FEARSOME BAT.” By now you and Jason had caught up to the still running Tim and you yelled as you passed him “FAIR KNIGHT, WE MUST AWAY TO THE KITCHEN” Tim just followed y’all while muttering under his breath “these people have problems”. When you got there, the three of you grabbed all the food you could then barricaded yourselves in to the game room. “Ok” you said “We’ve locked the door so Bruce shouldn’t be able to get in even if he finds us”. “And I've found The Seed of Chucky” Jason said while holding up a dvd case “or well at least one of the Chucky movies. Dear lord knows which one it is. At this point they've made so many- like for fucks sake guys one sequel’s enough. “ OK Spielberg we get it. You hate sequels. Now shush and play the movie” you commanded. So there you guys were an hour later. Tim had turned off all the lights and you all had preceded to built a pillow fort that you were now snuggling in . All three of you were in a sugar coma induced state and were staring wide-eyed at the movie. “Bitch don’t go in” you told the person in the movie as they walked towards a door. The music was getting super suspenseful and you, Jason, and Tim were clinging on to each other not taking your eyes off from the screen. “she gonna die she's gonna die” Tim whispered meekly” The door was slowly being opened. The music was intense. Jason was clinging so tightly to your arm you thought it was gonna fall off. You could hear your heartbeat. The door creaked open. “Oh hey guys there you are!” “AAAAAAAHHHHHHH” you, Jason, and Tim screamed all at once. It. was. Dick. “ Sorry I scared you guys” Dick apologized. “ For the love of god man you gave me a heart attack” Jason glared at him “Also how the hell did you get in? I thought we locked the door?” “Well yeah that one but there’s another door right here” Dick said pointing behind him. “Oh my god were fucking idiots” you said staring at the door. “So anyway guys, Bruce is looking for you. I’m not sure why.” “ Nope. Nopeity Nope Noooope” you said. “Guys seriously I’m sure whatever is going on he won’t be that mad” Dick remarked. “ HEY BRUCE THEYRE IN HE- Jason quickly spoke in a spookily calm tone “Grayson if you tell him were here , I swear on my already dead soul I will tell everyone about the bikini incident.” Dick’s eyes just went really wide and he gasped “You wouldn’t dare” “try me.” Jason retorted as he kept his glare focused on Dick. Dick just stared at him back for a second before slowly walking out the door and closing it behind him. “Oh yeah Bruce they're not in there” you could here Dick say in the hallway ten seconds later and then the footsteps retreated and all three of you let out a collective sigh of relief. Sleep took over you pretty soon and you all fell asleep cradled in each others arms. Of course you didn't escape the day of judgment, as early the next morning you eventually had to see Bruce and he gave you a long talk about spying on other people and that privacy is to be respected. The entire time Tim was just blushing like crazy and staring at his feet while you were focusing in on a very interesting spot on the wall. Jason of course was unfazed, and only opened his mouth to ask Bruce if he “got laid”.

#jason todd #jason todd x reader #jason todd x oc #batfam imagine #batfamily #tim drake #batfam sister #bruce wayne #batfam x reader #tim drake x reader #dc comics #dc #gotham

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rpchive · 6 years

Text

118th Encounter-- Slowly and Surely

progress!

Cautiously, Clair approaches the training room, unsure of how to approach coming near the door. Stepping to the side of it instead, she gently knocks, waiting to see if the storm inside calms before she tries to enter. A loud but unintelligible conversation continues inside, unaffected by Clair's attempt to get attention. Clair presses her head up against the wall in an attempt to listen in. Daedalus: -care about this fucking place anyway? The more they try to do, the closer this whole things gets to crumbling to the ground! What does it matter what I do if everyone else is just gonna slam themselves into a brick wall until they finally give out?

Voltarus: Things are not as bleak as they seem, nor are they as self-destructive as you imagine. You need to focus. I know what your condition is doing to you; you need to try and see past your delusions-

Daedalus: I am not delusional! It's everyone else that's gone off their fucking rocker! Have you seen what these idiots are doing to themselves?

Voltarus: The situation is difficult, I'll give you that. The others are struggling with a new type of foe and how to deal with it. What matters is what you do now to deal with the problem before it truly does pass the point of no return. Taking a deep breath, Clair nods decisively before carefully attempting to open the door. The door opens with no resistance, but an intense wave of heat blasts out from inside as she makes her way in. Voltarus and Daedalus appear to be pacing in a circle facing each other in the center of the room. Flames drip down from Daedalus' arms like napalm and continue to burn for some time on the floor, forming a misshapen ring of fire around the pair. Voltarus' attention is drawn to Clair as she steps inside, causing Daedalus to turn and look in the same direction. His furious scowl deepens slightly as he sees her.

Daedalus: Oh good, another one. Here to chime in with sunshine over here? Flinching from a mix of the comment and the heat, Clair forces herself to steady her gaze as she closes the door behind herself. "...What else could I do? Nobody else can talk to you right now...or maybe they don't know what to say...but somebody has to do something..." Daedalus: That's the fucking problem!

Daedalus brings his fists up and then swings them down in a sharp motion that sends two massive plumes of fire out to his sides. "Everyone always feels like they have to stick their nose in every little problem they come across, and it means nothing in the grand fucking scheme of it all! There's nothing to be gained from this and everything to lose! Why should I bother helping a group of people that just want to drive themselves off a goddamn cliff?" Clair: And what else should we do? Maybe we can't fix everything; I mean, there's always a problem that's bigger than us somewhere; but if we stopped doing anything at all? Kleivenn are being hunted to extinction by their own kind due to the aftermath of a war; without us, they'd all be weaponized or dead. If nobody had sealed whatever ate the Earth from Silky and XL's universe, it would've kept eating planets until it was the only thing left. Paprika and Maya would've died; Jay and Demo would've kept being used as tools; and you? Maybe we can't fix everything, but we're doing something, and it matters!! Daedalus: Like hell it does! Entropy gets everything in the end, we're just delaying the inevitable! You wanna see me do something? I'll show you what I can fucking do-

Daedalus turns and strides toward Clair, only to be grabbed from behind by Voltarus, pinning his arms to his sides. A sudden draft pulls Daedalus' flames behind the pair and away from Clair. Voltarus looks at Clair from over Daedalus' shoulder.

Voltarus: Talking doesn't seem to be much good for him this time. I think you need to use a more direct method to calm him down! There is a moment where Clair seems to want to object, though she quickly decides to take Voltarus up on their offer. Taking Daedalus' head in her hands, she places her head against his, only really asking for him to calm down. Daedalus struggles to break himself away from both Clair and Voltarus for several seconds, but eventually Clair's influence pushes through. Fire stops seeping out from his body, and the residual flames on the floor around the room begin to die down. Daedalus' frantic breathing finally begins to slow down, and Clair feels his weight lean into her as his eyes close. Voltarus carefully releases him from his grip, allowing Daedalus to put his hands on Clair's shoulders as he sinks into her for support. Letting go of Daedalus to hold him on the off chance that he collapses, Clair speaks softly. "...I'm sorry. I'm sorry this is hurting you...I'm sorry everyone's getting hurt...I'm sorry we can't do more..." Daedalus is quiet for several seconds before he finally responds. "I... I'm the one that should be sorry. I was starting to lose track of myself, and all I could think about was how angry I was about everything. This stupid brainwashing shit Lobotomy did is... really annoying. Please don't take what I say to heart if I start getting like this. I'm upset, but..." Clair: ...It's okay. Will you be alright...? Daedalus: ... I don't know. I don't think I'll feel better until everything's back to normal again. I just...

He pushes Clair away, gently but firmly, and takes a few steps away from Clair and Voltarus as he runs his hands down his face.

"Fucking hell, between everything that's happened recently I just don't see how I'm actually doing anything here. Demo's still not really herself because I couldn't stop that poker playing fuck-stick from biting her soul in half, and... I still think about that fight with Azreldeh's sister back in the mirror. You don't remember this, but I would've failed to get you back from her if that huge fucking demon king hadn't stepped in and stopped the fight. I've failed both of you in pretty short fucking order, and I just... don't know what I'm doing anymore." Clair: ...I don't think you failed. You didn't know what that devil was gonna do to Demo; and, well, I don't know enough about the mirror incident to put my two cents in there, but, I mean, if you were trying your hardest, then there's nothing to blame... Daedalus: If my best isn't cutting it, then what's the point of me even going out there?

Voltarus: The problem isn't that your best isn't enough; it's that you haven't even reached your potential yet.

Daedalus: ... The hell is that supposed to mean?

Voltarus: We purposefully avoided interfering directly in your adventures up until now to see how you've been handling things before we were properly awoken. Perhaps the blame partly lies with us for waiting so long to intervene, and for that we apologize. That being said, your ability to control our power has been... rudimentary. You've grasped the basics of channeling my power specifically, there is much more for you to learn, should you choose to.

Daedalus: And you're just now deciding to share that little tidbit of information? Voltarus: Better now than even later, eh? Truthfully, your ability to see your own limits is a good sign. We firmly believe you can rise to meet the task ahead of you, but smiting a devil will be no easy task. Clair: So...are you gonna help him? Voltarus: Of course! If he chooses to take us on the offer, that is.

Daedalus: If it means getting closer to piledriving that bastard into the dirt for good, I'm all in.

Voltarus: Excellent! We begin immediately! Our first task then should be ridding you of that desire for revenge.

Daedalus: ... Wait hang on what?

listen I know this was a chill log but that line still scared the shit out of me because after Law I literally do not know what to expect from your guys anymore

Voltarus: Your single-minded desire to destroy whatever problem you're facing robs you of the broad range of our powers. If you truly wish to grow into your power, then you must grow as an individual first. A selfish desire for revenge does not a hero make.

Daedalus: ... I can't believe this. We're starting with self-help talks? You got five easy steps to have a happier attitude while you're at it?

Voltarus: Indeed! Although that's not part of your training for now.

Daedalus: Oh for- Alright, look, if it means learning more tricks than fire hammers, then I'll humor you. Clair, you don't have to stick around for this. It's only a matter of time before he lights a campfire and starts trying to get us to sing "Kumbaya" or some crap like that. Clair: Well, maybe not, but if something else weird happens, someone else should stick around in case you need help, right? Daedalus: I... can't argue with that. Falling back into my old mindset is really annoying, and it's gonna be hard to remember anything if I have another weird memory gap happen. Clair: Then I'll stay here unless I have to leave. Voltarus: Then it's settled! Now, let's begin!

Daedalus grumbles something as he turns back and follows the pair as Voltarus begins setting up an area to sit.

[Meanwhile...]

Azreldeh quickly flees Firefly's Botania room as Firefly swears after her, hastily hurrying out as well. "...The flowers don't need magic, they make it! And...what gave you the idea that your magic would be good for anything?!"

Azreldeh: L-look, I said I was sorry--...!!

Firefly: Sorry won't make all those sprites go away, and it won't stop more from showing up!! You made this mess!! You make every mess!! Collin stops making his way down the hallway as the pair spill out of Firefly's door, one hand still pressed against the wall to help balance himself. He glances between the two for a second before speaking up. "Uh, is everything okay?" Firefly: Of course not!! Azreldeh made a huge mess!!

Azreldeh: D-don't come this way, they're gonna start pouring out into the hall soon...!!

Firefly: Ugh, whatever! Even if they do; sprites are harmless until provoked; so just...don't touch anything...! Collin: Well, it can't be that bad if they're harmless, right? How many are there? Azreldeh: Right now? Dozens. But uhh...more are showing up...

Firefly: They're all spilling out because you tried to feed one of my flowers your infernal magic!! They're going to chase you because you're a demon!! Get out!!

Azreldeh: Hey, I can't just step out of the ship...! ...What am I supposed to do...?

Firefly: I don't care, just...go somewhere else!! Collin: I'd offer to help, but I'm out of commission for a bit. Maybe you can get the pantheon to help? In the meantime, uh... Azreldeh, why don't we go somewhere that isn't here? Azreldeh: ...Right! Where to...? Your room...? Collin: Uh, sure? That's where I was headed anyway. Just bear with me, I'm a little slow right now. Nodding, Azreldeh heads in Collin's direction, keeping close in case he needs her support. "...Let me know if you need help; I can carry you if I have to." Collin: It's not that bad. I've just been spoiled by how well my prosthetic mimics normal movement normally. Remind me to thank Barbell the next time we see him. Azreldeh: Hopefully sooner than later...I'm sorry you guys got dragged into this... Collin: It happens. I just wish I hadn't made things even worse... I've turned this into a real mess. Azreldeh: ...You? No, you haven't done anything... Collin: I mean, I pulled in devil magic so now he can just do whatever with me. That doesn't sound like nothing to me... Azreldeh: But that hasn't made the situation worse! Jay's still safe, and so are we...! ...For the most part. This sprite thing was kind of a mistake on my part, ahah... Collin: What was the deal with that, anyway? I didn't think you were a green thumb sort of person. Azreldeh: Well, I just figured I could actually try to do something helpful around here for once, but I guess my magic's just inherently harmful to its surroundings... Collin: I don't think that's true. You just haven't found the right gap to fill, that's all. Azreldeh: ...Maybe so. Well, whatever, as long as nobody else gets messed up, I don't care. Collin: I'll try my best not to cause any other problems, then. Not that I can... really guarantee that. Azreldeh: L-look, the only problem we're gonna have in a minute is all those sprites coming to find me, and you're still pretty close... Collin: If my room's too close, we can go somewhere further back. I thought they were harmless though? Azreldeh: Maybe they are, but Firefly said they wouldn't like me... Collin: Well, let's just get somewhere where you won't get swarmed by a bunch of angry pixies then. Azreldeh: I...really don't think there's a place like that on this ship right now...

Azreldeh glancing behind herself has grown significantly more apparent. Collin: Oh, uh...? What should we do, then? Azreldeh: I, uhh...!! You can't run, so, uhh...!! ...I...messed this up already!!

Turning around, Azreldeh faces the ocean of sprites that are rapidly drifting towards the pair down the hallway. "...Brace yourself!! Even if they're harmless to most people, you've still been cursed by a devil...!!"

As the sprites close in on the pair, a muffled crackling sound fills the air. Shielding herself with her wings, Azreldeh braces herself for retaliation only to find the sprites are prioritizing Collin instead. Stunned, she starts yanking them out of the air and shouting at them to try and get their attention to no avail.

The magical current within a single sprite seems to do no harm to Azreldeh, but with hundreds upon thousands of them up close, the current seems to have amplified for each sprite surrounding another. Unifying their efforts, the wall of pink sprites attempts to fire a massive bolt of magic at Collin, only for it to curve moments before impact, firing into the crowd and incinerating the vast majority of the sprites. Azreldeh, however, seems unharmed by the attack.

Fearing the force that turned their magics against them, the remainder of the sprites disperse, leaving Collin and Azreldeh alone in the hall. From the depths, Collin hears Bandit's voice call out to him.

{...You're welcome.}

Collin: ... I... I've never been more conflicted about being saved in my life.

can you even imagine having your life threatened by what’s essentially a wall of pink, glittery cotton balls with wings

Bandit: {What, don't like it? I could put you back in danger if you wanna do it yourself...oh, wait, you can't now, can you? Hahaha!} Collin: Ugh, look, do you need something or are you just here to gloat? Saving me from a pixie swarm doesn't make up for everything else. Bandit: {I'm just making sure the two of you are alright. Because I can't see the state of your kleivenn without you.} Collin: Well he's not ready for you to try making him destroy an entire universe again yet, I'll tell you that much. Bandit: {As if I care if he's ready or not. I need to know if he's /able/; and he isn't yet...but I'm sure he'll get there sooner rather than later. I'm pretty patient when it comes to investments anyway, so I can hold this out as long as I need to. Can you?} Collin: It's gonna take a lot more than this to crack me, don't you worry about that. Bandit: {Suit yourself. I'll keep watching as long as it takes. Just know you won't be rid of me any time soon.} Collin: We'll see about that... Bandit retreats to his usual distance from the situation at hand, and Azreldeh finally turns her attention to Collin.

"...Are you okay? Those things didn't hit you, huh...?" Collin: No, Bandit bounced the attack back at them. Not exactly happy he can still do magic when I can't, but at least I'm not fried... Are you okay? Azreldeh: Me? Yeah, I'm fine. They tickled a little when I grabbed em, but nothing hurt...I'm just glad you're okay. Collin: Likewise. At least that deals with the pixie problem? Hopefully? Azreldeh: It looked like the last few disappeared. Guess they went back to wherever they came from... Collin: Here's hoping. Anyway, I... guess I'll get back to my room, finally. You're still free to hang around if you want. Better to have you sticking around than the other guy... Azreldeh: Y-yeah...! Uh, also, I guess nobody told you yet, but you shouldn't say the devil's name. They can hear everything around you when you say it... Collin: ... That would've been good to know earlier. Although given my situation, they might be able to hear everything around me anyway... Azreldeh: I'm not so sure about that...I think they're only gonna make contact when something interests them, unless you call their name. That's the one thing demons and devils have in common; we always answer those who call us. Collin: Duly noted, I guess. So the same thing happens with you? Azreldeh: W-well, I guess so...! Collin: You... don't know? I've probably said your name a bunch of times since you've been here. Azreldeh: Yeah, but not to get my attention...! Collin: I guess that's fair. Anything else I should know about all of this while we're at it? Azreldeh: ...Not that I can think of. Just don't say their name unless you want them to know what you're doing. Collin: Got it. So uh, to my room? Azreldeh: ...Wow, I wasn't expecting you to invite me for once! Collin: Well yeah, it's not like I hate you or something. I... still owe you a date, after all. Just don't read too deeply into the invitation... Azreldeh: Heheh, yeah, I know. Alright, let's get you where you're going... Collin finally reaches the door to his room and opens it for Azreldeh before stepping inside himself.

I really do like the little moments between these two

uhh, I forgot how many baby logs we had between Bandit and the fight, jesus. idk when we’re gonna kick his ass now

#[S4]

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flutteringphalanges · 7 years

Text

A Heart of Razor Wire

Summary: An alternate universe in which the X-Men infiltrate the mutant research center, Transigen, and rescue the children within. It is there that Logan is introduced to an infant identified only as X-23. This story follows the plot idea of how life would unfold if Logan raised Laura from infancy and the events that would follow suit. FFN and Ao3

Chapter Two

Logan's mutation allows him many beneficial advantages that most mutants lack. Among, of course, his Adamantium claws, his ability to heal has proved itself to be of great worth. Gun shots. Diseases. Hell, he not only survived the detonation itself, but the extreme radiation of the atomic bomb dropped on Nagasaki, Japan. His body's recovery rate has always been up to par.

Yet, with all of that success in mind, his powers were now suddenly faced with a new enemy. Something that they really hadn't dealt with all that much before. A beast that had Logan stumbling around the hallways of the mansion with bloodshot eyes and a weary expression. Had him mumbling unintelligible words of what one might assume is an attempt at soothing at the small, but very vocal, and very unhappy baby in his arms. A monster with a definite, distasteful name. Sleep deprivation.

"C'mon, kid, for the love of Christ go to sleep," Logan almost begs, shifting the wailing infant in his arms. "It's fucking three in the morning. How the hell haven't you tired yourself out?! If you have another mutation that keeps you from sleeping…"

He's too exhausted to even finish his train of thought, resorting instead to rocking his daughter despite how sore his arms feel from this repeated action. The baby had only been at the mansion for a day or so now. And, because he was just that lucky, had been able to get four, maybe five hours of restless sleep at most. But the infant mutant's relentlessness was wearing him down and making him remember why exactly he had never wanted kids in the first place. But here he was, more lifeless than a zombie, trying to hush a child he had only just learned was his.

"Still no success?"

Logan nearly jumps at the unexpected question, miraculously not drawing his claws, for the baby's sake, as he whips around to face none other than Jean Grey herself. She stands before him, sporting a blue robe that falls just passed her knees and a pair of fuzzy, white slippers. Her deep, red hair draping too perfectly over her shoulders for someone who has been sleeping in bed. Not that it mattered. Hell, she could've been swimming in sewage and he'd still find her absolutely breathtaking.

"Logan?"

He immediately snaps back into reality, hoping that the heat that traveled up to his face did not create an evident blush for her to see. Jean merely continues to smile at him, arms crossed over her chest as her gaze flickers down to the baby. While her crying had finally ceased, the infant's small noises maintained the uncertainty of whether or not the wails would restart. Letting out a long, overdue exhale, Logan's gaze meets the telepathic woman giving her a small, tired smirk.

"Shouldn't you be cuddled in bed with Scott, or have you finally had enough of his big boy goggles poking you while you try to sleep?"

Jean's smile doesn't falter as she rolls her eyes. "Clearly you need sleep, usually your jabs are more creative than that." She shakes her head as Logan snorts. "You know, you still haven't picked out a name for her. It's been a few days and she can't be referred to as baby or infant forever. And certainly not X-23."

"Can't decide between Banshee or Tornado Siren," he snorts when Jean gives him a look. "What? I'm not good at these things. I wasn't expecting to be thrown into the role of Mr. Mom. And besides," he looks down at the baby. "Knowing me, I'd probably pick out something stupid and she'll be teased for the rest of her life. Or hate me and kill me. Maybe both."

"Well, I am sure something will come," the telepath says with some assurance. "I know it's so sudden and it's not like knowing you are going to become a parent several months before it happens, but you adjust well to anything better than anyone else I know." She pauses, seemingly thinking for a moment. "...Depending on what said thing is. Okay, you eventually manage to make things work."

He huffs, shrugging his shoulders that feel much heavier than they should. The threat of unconsciousness looms over his head, sleepiness clouding over his thought process. Hell, even the floor was starting to look like an incredibly comfortable place to nap. Jean, now appearing to notice the other mutant's fatigue, gives him a sympathetic look. She holds out her hands and it takes Logan a minute to realize she wants the baby.

"Give me the baby and go get some sleep," she says, continuing before Logan has a chance to rebut. "I'm not asking, I'm telling. And if you try to give me an argument, I'll be forced to use my powers to make you think otherwise."

A moment of silence falls between the two, Jean's stare not leaving Logan's as she waits for a reply. Finally, sighing deeply in defeat, he carefully hands his daughter over to the woman. The telepath smiles, shushing the infant when she starts to fuss. Logan blinks tiredly, seeming to struggle to figure out what to do next.

"Go," Jean says gently, resting a hand on his shoulder. "Before you collapse."

"Wake me up if you need me to take her," he mumbles, words slurring. "Or if you just wanna come hang out in my room. I won't tell Scott if you don't."

Jean gives a snort, shaking her head before nudging him. "Go," she repeats. "I'll take good care of her."

Logan mumbles something, but it's too quiet and slurred for Jean to comprehend. She watches as he shuffles down the hallway, slightly concerned that at any moment he might collapse and remain unconscious there in the hallway. Something that she knew would be absolutely terrifying for the students of the school to discover when they left their rooms in the morning for breakfast. When Jean feels confident enough that the man made it successfully back to bed, she lets out a small sigh, peering down at the baby cradled in her arms.

"You're in for a wild ride here," she whispers, staring down at the baby. "There is never a dull moment when you're at Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters. But that's what makes us unique and fun. And in the case of your father...well...that will definitely be something." Jean's mouth curves into a gentle smile as she notices the infant looking up at her, almost as if she could understand her words. "Welcome to your new home, little one."

"I'm sure as hell not wearing that!"

The expression of pure disgust on Logan's face as he glares at the bright pink, floral patterned baby carrier Storm holds up is almost too comical for both her and Jean to bear. Somehow both women had managed to convince their male counterpart to go baby shopping with them. Perhaps it worked because he was too exhausted to argue. Or maybe he was actually beginning to take this seriously. Whatever the case, they were now standing together in one of the many stores they would explore that day inside of the large mall.

"Why not?" Jean presses, clearly enjoying his overreaction to something so trivial. "I think it compliments you nicely. It gives you more of an...approachable look."

"I'd rather have Magneto yank my Adamantium claws out of my ass than go around looking like some pansy," he growls, folding his arms over his chest. "There's a reason car seats and strollers were invented." Logan's eyes flicker over to the infant who stares in return from her new seat. "Sorry, kid, but I'm not wearing a baby backpack."

"Well, it's going into the cart nonetheless," the telepath replies, tossing it into the basket. "Who knows, it might be of use at some point."

Ignoring Logan's frown, Jean began to push the cart, Storm keeping up with her pace as Logan trails behind. He didn't know why the two women couldn't have done this by themselves. It's not like he knows anything about shopping, much less when it comes to kids. But he had let them drag him out under the belief it wouldn't take long. Which, he now realizes, is far from that case.

"It never hit me how many cute outfits were out there for babies," Storm says with a smile, holding up a collection of onesies. "I'm starting to feel baby crazy and I'm not even her mother." She plops them into the cart, her attention drawing to another section. "Look at their nursery section! The bedding options, wall art, decorations…"

"I'm not turning my room into a nursery," Logan interjected. "She can deal with just a crib, it's not like she has an opinion either way."

But some of the items found their way to the shopping cart anyway and Logan, too fed up at this point to argue, just allows it to happen. It's their money that's being wasted. And they couldn't blame him when he went about throwing them away later. He had given them multiple warnings after all. So he lets them do what they want, hoping that perhaps it would make this whole trip end faster.

When Storm and Jean go off to look at something that Logan is sure he mostly likely will not give a damn about, he decides to stay back with the cart, remaining with the baby. He exhales, rubbing the side of his face tiredly. The phrase, "sleeping like a baby" was full of absolute shit. There had been so far no sleep on either his or X-23's part. And yet, while the thought of curling up in one of the nearby cribs somehow sounded appealing, the one who should be wanting the bed for sleeping is watching him intently instead.

"You know, there's this great thing called sleep," he says, eyeing his daughter. "And if you try it for more than several minutes, it's actually really cool." The infant merely blinks and Logan lets out a long sigh. "Christ, I'm talking to a baby, this insomnia thing is messing with my head."

"What a cutie," comes a feminine voice from behind. "Is she yours?"

Turning, Logan sees a woman standing before him. His eyes scan over her, making a mental note of the weird sling she sports that is somehow supporting an infant much larger than his inside. She gives him a friendly smile, taking a step forward to seemingly admire his daughter. A strange feeling of discomfort comes over the mutant as he watches the woman ogling his child. It's a ridiculous feeling he knows, and yet he almost wants to reach forward and yank the cart away from her prying eyes.

"Yeah," the words sounding much harsher than he intended. "She is."

The woman, not appearing to have picked up his tone, continues to smile as she glances down at her own baby before returning her gaze to Logan.

"How many months is she," she asks, her tone sickeningly friendly to the mutant whose lack of sleep left him with an immense feeling of irritation.

"Don't know," he says truthfully.

"Oh," her smile falls slightly, a look of uncertainty crossing her features. "Well," she exclaims, almost seeming to struggle with keeping a pleasant voice. "What's her name? It must be beautiful seeing as she is such a doll!"

"Doesn't have one yet," he answers dryly. "Any other questions?"

The woman places a hand on her infant as if attempting to protect him from Logan. Pressing her lips together, she nods at him without another word, pulling her cart behind her at a rather quick pace. At that moment, Jean and Storm finally return, both carrying god knows what in their arms. Catching a glance at the retreating woman, Storm gives Logan a look of curiosity?

"What was that about?" She asks, Jean also taking notice of the woman before she disappeared. "...Did something happen?"

"Just someone who needed to mind her own damn business," he shrugs, taking note of everything in both of the women's arms. "Are we done or do we have to call Charles and ask to loan money in order to buy this whole place?"

The baby's sleeping, much to her father's relief, when they finally arrive back at the mansion. After Jean turns off the engine, Logan is the first to get out. Quietly, he opens the car door and, surprising for a man of his size and strength, manages to remove the infant seat without any sound whatsoever. He glances down at his daughter, secretly finding the pouty face she's making in her sleep pretty damn adorable.

"Take her inside," Storm whispers, pulling Logan from his train of thought. "Jean and I can start bringing stuff in. We can get Scott or some of the other adults and older students to help if need be."

"You sure?" He asks, looking at both of the women before turning his attention to the many bags that sat in the back. "I can get her inside and then come out to help."

Jean merely shook her head, "We can handle it," she assures him. "Go get her situated before she wakes up."

Logan nods, mumbling a word of thanks as he carefully walks, keeping in mind not to jostle her, up the steps and into the school. He flinches when the sounds of overly excited students meets his ears. It's then he remembers that it's Saturday, Charles always having classes dismissed over the weekend before resuming once more on Mondays.

Cursing to himself, he tries to hurry as best he can to his room before one of the students manages to rouse the baby. Luck thankfully on his side, he makes it into the bedroom and closes the door with a soft click.

Sighing, Logan moves over to his bed and, once more with the utmost care, sets the car seat down on the mattress. Briefly the infant begins to stir causing the older mutant to fall completely still. Once he's sure she isn't going to wake up, he slowly lowers himself beside her, take a much needed sitting break. Momentarily, he closes his eyes, the feeling of complete exhaustion rushing over him relentlessly. To him, taking a nap sounds spectacular. Hell, if he could, he'd even consider going into hibernation like actual wolverines in a heartbeat. Well, perhaps not that far, but his body was craving sleep far more than any other needs.

"You're seriously wearing me out, kid," he murmurs, eyeing the baby as her chest rises and falls with each breath. "Not about to let me catch a break, are you?"

He snorts to himself shaking his head. He was doing it again, talking to the infant as if she could actually understand each word. It's a silly concept, he realizes that, and yet, somewhere in the back of his mind, he actually enjoys speaking to her. She couldn't, and certainly wouldn't be able to comprehend his words for quite awhile, but it's still nice thought. Then there's the added bonus that she can't talk back. But, he wouldn't mind the least bit when she's finally able to.

"To be honest with you, it's been years since I've felt this drained," he continues, looking to his child. "Now that I really think about it, maybe it's been as far back as when I was a kid." He pauses, trying to recall the old memories from centuries before. "Back in Canada where I grew up, my brother-your uncle I guess, Victor, and I would go to our grandparents during the summer. They lived on a cattle ranch and every morning, my grandfather, his name was Joseph, would wake us up bright and early to help out with the livestock and herding the cows from pasture to pasture."

Logan pauses, watching the infant carefully before he's completely sure she's still fast asleep and not rudely awakened by his recollections.

"It was tiresome, especially when Victor didn't do his part. But I couldn't really complain about it, my grandfather would whip us both regardless of who was to blame about the chores not being finished," he exhales, lips forming into a small smile. "But no matter what, even when we were in trouble with our grandfather, my grandmother, Laura, always gave us complete affection. I can't even remember if she even got the slightest displeased with us."

Like a light bulb clicking the instant someone pulls its chain, a thought sparks in Logan's mind. He looks at his daughter, seemingly studying her over like an art student would do when being faced with a historical masterpiece. He smirks, a rather pleased expression coming across his features.

"Laura," he says, playing with the name as if to see if it felt right. "Laura Howlett." He nods to himself, his smile widening as his attention returns to his daughter. "What do you think? Does Laura sound good?"

As if in response, Laura's lips part in such a way that it looks like she's smiling.

"So it's settled," he grins. "Laura Howlett it is."

And just like that, the label of X-23 was completely stripped away, and in its place a strong, well deserved name forever locked into place.

Laura.

Wow...I seriously wasn't expecting this to be so long. But it needed to be of a good length to really get the story started. And for those who are wondering, not for quite awhile, but events from the Logan movie will eventually take place-changed of course seeing as this story changes the course of what have you. It would mean so much if you could take a moment to leave a review/comment, a kudos, heck following, favorite-ing, and bookmarks are very much loved. It seriously gives me the motivation to continue knowing that people are actually, in fact, reading this. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed! Until next time! -Jen

#Logan #Wolverine #X-Men #Laura Kinney #X-23 #A Heart of Razor Wire

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redscrud-blog · 7 years

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For a wish

Prologue: The Gatekeeper

A rabbit exited the maze, her hood shielding her from the rain. She stood in front of her final destination – the Tower. A black obelisk piercing the sky, its peak unseen. Asha gritted her teeth and charged towards the gate, slamming it with full force. The gate did not open. Frantically she looked for a handle or a crack, anything to get it open. She pounded the gate, expecting it to budge, or at the least for someone to open it. She couldn’t have come this far, just to be denied her entrance. Asha fell to her knees. This was her end.

“My, my, what an eager little bunny.”

Asha jumped, unsheathing the sword hidden under her cloak. She was confronted by a dog, dressed in jester’s attire. He slowly circled Asha, positioning himself between the rabbit and the gate.

“Here to conquer the Tower, are we?”

Asha did not respond. The jester paid her no mind and took out a scroll from behind his back. He unrolled it and, with closed eyes, began to mockingly recite it.

“Great adventurer, you have battled your way through the labyrinth of the four lords and you stand before the Tower. If you successfully conquer all of its twenty floors, you will be rewarded with one wish, no matter what it may be. Good luck and Godspeed.”

He rolled up the scroll, a grin stretching across his face. Asha did not respond. The jester frowned.

“Could I ask what your wish might be?”

There was a moment of silence.

“Immortality.”

The dog let out a booming laugh. Her grip on the hilt tightened.

“I’m sorry, it’s just that… you are risking your life so you won’t die. I find it pretty stupid.”

She raised her sword, pointing it at the adversary’s throat.

“Let me through.”

The jester was amused, he waved his hand and the gate opened. Asha sheathed her sword and walked past him.

“Good luck, great adventurer.” He mocked her, his back turned.

Part 1: Alchemy and Lunacy

Asha stepped into a library. The gate behind her was no more and she pressed forward, her sword raised. The library was well lit, with dozens upon dozens of bookshelves, each brimming with tomes of all times and subjects. With every step she took the library seemed to grow, revealing corridors unnoticed before, each no different than the one she was in.

After passing a few detours, she heard a shriek of pain from one of the hallways. Gripping her sword, she ran forward, navigating through the books and shelves, following the cry. With each step, the books on the shelves became fewer and fewer and, when she finally reached the source, she stumbled upon an area almost like a room unto itself.

There were no shelves, only tables with glass equipment, diagrams and dissected creatures. In the center of the room lay a tall figure – a crow, wearing a yellow robe, adorned with symbols of unknown origin.

The crow thrashed on the ground, gripping his hand, which was covered in simmering boils.

“Curses! Wrong ingredients, wrong circle, wrong diagram! The king will not be happy, no, not at all.” He mumbled to himself, rolling on the ground, not noticing Asha.

He stood up, still clutching his hand, took a quick glance towards the rabbit and turned back towards his diagrams.

“Aha!” he yelled out, raising a piece of paper. He read through it, murmuring, and his injured hand healed itself. He flexed his newly formed appendage and continued on with his work.

“You are late!” he yelled out in a harsh tone. “The instructions are on the wall to your right. You better get a move on, or the king will have both of our heads.”

Asha looked at the wall. A parchment stood pinned, covered with mad, unreadable scribbles instead of words. She stepped towards the crow.

“How do I gain access to the next floor?” she asked, still gripping her sword.

“What are you yammering on about child? We have work to do! We have to build the tower for the king! Get started on the list or I’ll turn you into a living blob!” the crow threatened, unmoving from his work.

“There is nothing written on the list! Tell me how to climb up the tower or I’ll have your head!”

The crow let out a deep sigh.

“Such arrogance in today’s youth.”

He turned around and waved his hand.

The floor beneath Asha started to gelatinize. Slowly sinking, she took steps towards one of the tables, grabbing it for support.

“You see child? You cannot simply defy your superiors. Punishments are needed. They help you grow. I was once punished by the king, and now I am his royal alchemist. I am sure that after today, you will go on to do great things!”

Asha could barely hold on to the table. The strength with which she was dragged down outmatched her own. She scanned the table, spotting a few vials of different colours. She grabbed them all and, with her final strength, threw them at the alchemist. Upon impact they broke, setting his entire body on fire. He stood there silent.

“The king will not be happy.”

He toppled over, his body still burning. The floor beneath Asha returned to normal, spewing her back out.

The crow finished burning and a wall parted, revealing a hidden path. The rabbit sheathed her sword and pressed forward.

Part 2: Rhetoric

Asha stepped into a garden, a cobblestone path leading to its center – a circle formed by marble columns. There was no ceiling, only the stars and moon shining down. In the center, on one of the benches, lay a parrot wearing a sheer blue dress, more akin to a veil than actual clothing. Asha followed the path to meet her next challenge.

“Brave warrior, do you wish to climb to the top?” the parrot spoke, without facing Asha.

“I do”, replied the rabbit, unflinching.

The parrot giggled and turned.

“I am the daughter of the king, lady of the second floor.”

She extended a hand towards Asha and was met with a cold stare. The lady scoffed.

“The greater the ignorance, the greater the arrogance.” She turned back, gazing at the sea below.

“I am the wisest in all the land.” The lady spoke, as if to herself. “I’ve been taught by the greatest tutors. I know everything there is to know in all the sciences and arts. That is why I was put here. Why do you climb the tower? What is it you desire?”

“Immortality.”

Asha’s answer forced a slight chuckle from the lady.

“Such base interests. Do you fear the inevitable to such an extent that you risk forcing it upon yourself?”

“I fear no such thing.”

The lady turned her head slightly.

“You contradict yourself, brave warrior. People wish to avert what they fear. There is no other reason.”

The cold wind blew Asha’s cape open. She did not speak.

“It gets awfully lonely in my garden. If you are willing to stay, I just might teach you all there is to know. I have been craving a companion to talk to.”

“I am not.”

The lady arose. She turned again, staring down the rabbit.

“You dare turn down the greatest gift from me? I should have your head on a platter!”

Asha did not respond. She unsheathed her sword and pointed at the parrot. The lady’s eye, not losing an ounce of anger, twitched for the slightest second.

“Typical brute. You cannot solve your problems with words, so you chose violence. You bore me. Be gone!”

She flicked her hand to the other side of the garden, towards a newly formed door. Asha continued along the cobblestone path and exited the garden.

Part 3: Gluttony

Asha entered a brightly lit room. The walls were adorned with crested flags and torches. In the far end of the room there was a feast, but only one ate – a mouse dressed in an enormous dress and a huge headpiece, most likely made with the intent of resembling a crown. Behind her throne there was a wooden door, fitted with gold hinges and rings for knobs. The mouse was surrounded by six guards, barely standing and emaciated.

The moment Asha stepped into the room, the mouse yelled something, rendered unintelligible from the food in her mouth. One of the guards sluggishly crossed the room, his halberd dragging along the floor. Asha readied her sword. When the guard reached striking distance, he collapsed on the ground.

“Idiots! Idiots all of you!”, the mouse screamed. “I should have you executed!”

None of the guards reacted. Asha cautiously strode forward, not lowering her sword. She stood on the other side of the table. The mouse did not look impressed.

“What would possibly possess you to enter the chamber of the duchess of these lands? During a noble feast, no less!”

“I’m here to traverse the tower.”

“Oh, another one.”

The duchess took a gulp from a goblet of wine and wiped her muzzle with one arm.

“None have reached the top. You should turn back now.”

Asha took a look at the guards.

“I don’t think so.”

The duchess was unamused.

“Be it as you wish! I will drink my wine from your skull! Guards! Exe…”

Asha slashed the mouse’s throat. Blood spewed across the white table cloth. The duchess fell.

The rabbit turned towards the guards, all of whom took a step back. She jumped over the table and opened the door.

Part 4: Patience and Trickery

Asha walked through a long corridor. At some point the sound of her footsteps changed from clacking against stone to creaking wood. When she reached the end, she entered a small room. In the center of it sat a ram behind a desk, surrounded by dozens of parchments, scribbling away by flickering candle light. He glanced over his glasses towards the rabbit, then turned his gaze back to his work.

“Sit.” The ram’s voice was stern and yet unconcerned.

Asha looked around and noticed three chairs next to the wall. They were wooden, moldy and one was tied up with strings so as not to break apart.

The rabbit stormed towards the desk. She pointed her sword towards the ram. For a second he looked up, let out a small chuckle and continued writing.

“Number…” he quickly went through some papers.”...11154. Do you know who I am?”

“Another obstacle that needs to be dealt with.”

“Cute.” For a moment his permanent frown turned into a light smile “No. I am the executive tasked with overseeing everything that happens in this tower and the maze.”

“So you fill out paperwork.”

“Yes, I do. So, if you want to pass, number 11154, you should wait until I am finished.”

He lowered his head and continued writing.

“What if I just cut you down?”

“Then you wouldn’t have anyone to open the door for you.”

He motioned towards a beat up door behind him.

She tightened the grip on the hilt.

“Will this take long?”

“Hmm...hard to say. Ever since I was assigned here, I haven’t stopped filling out paperwork.”

She took a quick glance towards to door again.

“Is this really necessary?”

“Absolutely. I suggest you sit down and get yourself comfortable. I will call you when it’s your turn to fill out the forms after which I can send a request for the key.”

Asha took a seat in the chair that looked most intact. Of all the things she was expecting to come across in the tower, this was not one of them. It seemed strange how undeterred the executive was when his life was threatened. Could he have gone mad like the alchemist? Or maybe he wasn’t the fighting type and he was bluffing, now thinking of a way to dispose of Asha. She didn’t let her guard down and stared at the ram. He didn’t deviate from his routine. Comparing papers and writing away. Judging by the amount of papers around him, it would take at least a week until Asha made any progress.

Asha stood up and walked towards the door. The ram didn’t turn. She examined it up close. It was covered in a brown fabric, nails piercing it at key spots to keep it in place and looking presentable, but it was ripped in places. The handle was a simple rusted ring, under which was a keyhole. By the look of things, she could easily break the door down. She grasped the handle and gently pulled it. To her surprise the door opened. She turned towards the ram. He didn’t notice her. She opened the door a bit more, just enough so she could slide in, after which she closed it shut.

Part 5: Solitude

Asha walked into a corridor. On the other side was an open door. She stepped forward and noticed that to her right there was a barred room. Peeking in she saw a wolf chained to the wall. He lifted his head and spoke in an exhausted voice.

“Hey, hey you! Set me free!”

The wolf was practically skin and bone and only a small piece of cloth kept him decent.

Asha ignored him and pressed on.

“Please don’t go! At the very least stay a while and speak to me! It’s been so long. Why won’t you answer?”

The thought of opening the cell crossed her mind, but it meant that she’d only deviate from her path and prolong her journey. Asha entered the door.

Part 6: The purple prince

Asha stepped into a room. Sunlight shone through clear, wide windows. The room itself was big, the walls decorated with shields, banners and weapons. There were a few weapon racks, each one with either blunt, sharp or ranged weapons. A few training dummies were positioned in the corners of the room. In the middle, in an empty circular area decorated with a crest depicting the sun, stood a swan. Dressed in an elegant, aristocratic fashion, he practiced a clunky fighting routine. He was so enthralled in his practice, that he only noticed Asha when she stepped inside the circle.

The swan, initially surprised, greeted Asha with a smile.

“Welcome, welcome!” He spoke in a sophisticated manner and with utmost sincerity, “I take it you are here to climb up the tower?”

“I am.”

“Wonderful! I am the prince of these lands. You see, to get to the next floor, you have to defeat me in a duel. No bloodshed required. Just a standard sparring match.”

Asha didn’t need to hear any more. She took out her sword and assumed a fighting stance. The prince raised one finger.

“Before we begin, I have just one condition.”

Asha did not answer and waited for him to continue.

“You see, the weapons here…they are inadequate. I have developed a very specific fighting technique. Any sword here would just impede me. I need a real weapon. One used in battle numerous times. A sword that can taste blood. My condition is for me to use your sword. You can pick any weapon you want.”

Asha did not answer. She handed the sword to the prince and stepped outside the circle. She examined the weapons and settled on a scimitar. She waved it around, getting a feel for its balance. It was obvious it was never used in a real fight. No scratches on the blade, the handle was in top condition. It was almost as if it was an ornament rather than a weapon. Asha turned to the sight of the prince once again practicing his routine, this time with her blade.

When she stepped inside the circle, the prince stopped and smiled. He was ready to duel.

He raised his hand to strike and in that moment Asha dashed and jabbed him with her hilt, knocking his air out. He stumbled back and the rabbit waited for him to regain his composure. He assumed the same stance. This time he attacked from the side. Asha parried his strike, grabbed him by the wrist and threw him to the ground.

The prince quickly got up. “Right. That was a good warm-up. Shall we continue with the real duel?”

Asha tightened her grip and awaited his next attack. He did a few quick hits, which Asha seamlessly blocked and when he showed an opening, she slashed, cutting his ascot in half. He was visibly worried and with haste tried to plunge her sword at her. She ducked, dashed forward and pressed the blade of the scimitar against his neck. For a few seconds he didn’t move, after which he dropped the sword.

Asha picked up and sheathed her weapon, leaving the scimitar on the ground. She passed the prince and entered through the door.

“Your sword wasn’t good enough.”

The words faded as she walked forward.

Part 7: Seeing red

Asha entered a coliseum. The walls were breaking down and the field was covered in sand and bone. In the center of it sat a bull, hugging a claymore. When he noticed Asha, he stabbed the weapon into the ground and got up, using the hilt as support. He pulled it out and pointed it towards Asha.

“I am the berserker! Defeat me in battle and you may pass forward! If you value your life, turn back now!”

Asha pulled out her sword and waited for her opponent.

“So be it…” the bull murmured and charged forward. He ran the distance in seconds and slashed at the rabbit. His height and the length of his weapon allowed him to attack from a bit further than what Asha was used to. She rolled underneath the weapon and plunged forward to strike her opponent but instead was met with a kick, powerful enough to pin her to the wall. Her sword flew from her hand. The berserker was already mid-strike when Asha regained her senses. At the very last moment, she jumped out of the attack and fled towards the center of the battleground. The bull was quickly catching up to her.

As she ran, a shot of burning pain slashed across her back. The sensation and force made her lose balance and she fell face first. Asha scrambled forward and turned over to face her opponent, ready for his final attack. At a moment's notice, the rabbit grabbed a handful of sand and threw it into the bull’s face. Blinded, he reached at his face, diverging his attack. Asha used the momentary distraction to grab a broken bone and strike back. The bone pierced the berserker’s stomach. He let out a roar of pain. She didn’t spare a second, grabbed another bone and struck again. Her opponent started violently slashing back and forth.

The rabbit used this opportunity to run back to her sword. She picked up her weapon and faced her opponent. His eyes, although bloodshot and watering, were now open and filled with relentless fury. He grabbed his hilt with both hands, as if the bones sticking out of his stomach weren’t affecting him at all. Asha gritted her teeth and charged towards him.

The moment the berserker got in range, he slashed forward. Asha ducked underneath the claymore, passing between his legs. Her sword slid through his Achilles heel.

The berserker screamed in pain and collapsed on the ground, his weight plunging the bones deeper into his body. Asha shuffled over her opponent and buried her blade into his back, finishing him off.

Asha took a deep breath and sat on the ground. She looked towards the sky. It was midday. She closed her eyes for a quick rest. The wind blew the sands, ever so slightly reforming the battlefield. At regular intervals the ambience was broken by Asha’s breathing.

A few minutes later she got up and took a few steps forward, before a sharp sting reminded her that she was wounded. She took off her cape, cut a piece from the lower half and tied it over her shoulder, covering the cut on her back. She put her cowl back on and walked over to the door of the next floor.

Part 8: The choice of strength

Asha took a step into a forest, her legs crushing dried up leaves. Trees towered above her, for what seemed like miles. A light fog, combined with the lack of sunlight, impaired her long-distance vision. She took a few steps, cautiously exploring her surroundings.

There was a crack. In just a few seconds the entire forest was on fire. Asha started running, looking for the way out. Suddenly manic laughter came from nearby. She stopped in her steps and changed her course, following the sound, knowing that the source was her way out. She grabbed her hood and pulled it around her neck to cover her mouth.

Asha stopped at the foot of at the largest tree. Through the smoke and leaves, she could barely make out a silhouette with antlers. It almost seemed like it was looking at her as well.

“I am the forest god! What are you doing in my domain?” the figure yelled out from atop of the tree.

“I am traversing the tower!”

“We should hurry then! The fire is spreading quickly!”

The figure jumped from the tree and landed in front of Asha. A tall, nude deer, wielding a spear.

“Battle me in my flames.”

He raised his weapon.

“Why did you set your kingdom on fire?”

The deer laughed.

“I was forced to guard this tower. It’s not something I chose. But I can choose what to do with what is mine. This is my final act of defiance.”

Asha took out her sword. Her eyes were watering from the smoke. Even at such close range, her opponent looked blurry. She was at a disadvantage, but she knew one sure way to defeat him.

“Denying yourself is not a real choice.”

The deer let out another laugh, this one more powerful than the last. He opened his mouth to speak, when Asha sliced his throat. He collapsed on the ground.

Asha looked around. The fire had already surrounded her. She sheathed her sword and jumped over the deer’s body to get to the tree. She had the intention of climbing it, but she felt a cold wind blowing from the ground. She looked down and saw a hole between the roots. Without any hesitation, she leapt into the hole, which lead her through a small tunnel. At its end was a round, wooden door. She opened it and crawled through.

Part 9: Hillside view

Asha kept on crawling through the tunnel for what seemed like hours. She had lost almost all her strength, when she saw a feint light. With her last breath she clawed her way out. The rabbit found herself at the base of a dead tree, perched near a cliff.

“Going somewhere?”

Asha turned around, her weapon at the ready. In front of her, on a rock, sat a raccoon, dressed in a blue cloak.

“You can relax. I’m not much of a fighter.”

The raccoon’s voice was calm and sounded elderly. Asha didn’t let go of her sword.

The raccoon got up from his place and walked towards the cliff.

“You are climbing the tower, aren’t you?”

“I am.”

“Not really any other reason why you’d be here.”

He chuckled underneath his nose. He bent over and picked a pebble off the ground

“The way to the next floor is through that chasm.”

He threw the pebble over the cliff. There was no sound. Asha inched towards the edge. It was too foggy to see the bottom.

“You are lying, aren’t you?”

Asha’s voice was stern in contrast to the raccoon’s calm, almost cheerful, speech.

“If you want, look around. If you find a way out, be my guest and use it.”

The rabbit frowned. She took another look over the cliff.

“Why would you show me the way so easily?”

The raccoon smiled.

“I’ve found that most can be a hindrance to themselves. I don’t need a sword to swing, or to weave lies, when I can just point you in the right direction and you can torment yourself to death.”

Asha let go of her sword. She took a pebble and threw it, mirroring the raccoon, almost as if she expected different results. Again there was no sound.

“If I jump, will I die?”

“I doubt it.”

“You doubt it?”

The raccoon shrugged.

“No one has ever jumped before. Not to my recollection.”

Asha paced nervously back and forth between the tree and the rock, the raccoon following her every step.

“Why do you climb the tower?”

Asha halted in her steps, the question coming as a bit of a surprise, despite it not being her first time hearing it.

“I seek immortality.”

“Is there a reason?”

“Yes.”

Asha continued her pacing. Half a minute later, the raccoon spoke again.

“Would you care to share that reason?”

Asha froze up. She looked at the sky. It was filled with stars.

“I’m not afraid of death, if that’s what you are asking.”

The raccoon scratched his chin.

“Are you, by any chance, afraid of life?”

Asha’s eye twitched. She didn’t answer. She turned around, took a deep breath, closed her eyes and ran. She opened them just when she reached the edge of the hill and jumped into the chasm, arms spread and her cape billowing behind her.

The raccoon smiled and sat on his rock.

Part 10: Pastsight

Asha’s landing felt more like jumping over a few stairs than jumping off a cliff. She found herself in a rather small space, compared to the earlier floors. Looking around, she saw all manner of knick-knacks hanging from the ceiling, shelves filled to the brim with what might be charms and talismans.

“Ah, Asha, you’ve finally arrived.”

The voice came from behind her. Asha turned around, where behind a circular table sat a black cat. With a coy smile, the cat waved a hand in front of herself, motioning for the rabbit to sit in the opposing chair. Asha stepped forward, but did not sit.

“You know my name.”

“You’ve been in the tower for quite some time now. Sooner or later, someone had to learn it.”

The cat continued their conversation with a dramatic, yet self-ironizing tone of voice, all the while shuffling a deck of cards.

“I am the keeper of the tenth floor – the fortuneteller. The way to the next floor is just behind me. All you have to do to reach your goal is humor me.”

She fanned out with the cards, covering the bottom part of her face.

“Let me read your fortune.”

Asha scoffed.

“I don’t believe in fortunetelling.”

“Oh, I knew that. I am a fortuneteller after all. That’s why I asked you to humor me.”

Asha crossed her arms and furrowed her brow.

“I knew a stargazer once…” the cat continued, still shuffling her deck, “…who assured me that there are more ways to stack a standard deck of cards then stars he has counted. A deck of tarot cards is seventy two cards.”

She laid the cards on the table.

“I like to believe that each reading I do directly corresponds to only one person, on the virtue of so many combinations. We’ll use a stripped down deck, just to make it easier.”

The cat arranged ten cards, Asha all the while deciding to let the fortuneteller play out her shtick.

“You may not believe it, but I can tell a lot about you with these cards.” She turned over the first card. “The fool shows me that your highest ideals are somewhat simple in nature, while the next card, the chariot, shows that you have a creative, but rather physical, way of dealing with some of your problems.”

She took a quick glance towards Asha, an innocent smile adorning her face. The rabbit did not react to it. The fortuneteller continued.

“The high priestess shows that you do have to work on your wisdom a bit and you aren’t exactly virtuous, as seen by the hierophant, although you are very goal driven. The magician showed me that you are ready to deal with anything that stands in your way. While the empress says you might be altruistic exteriorly, however, on the inside you really just care for yourself.”

The cat slid her finger on top of the next card before flipping it over.

“Your soulmate could as well be your sword, signified by the lovers. And the emperor says you do manage to learn from experience. My favorite card here, the wheel of fortune, tells me that you have already adjusted quite well to the cycle of defeating, or stalling out, the keepers of each floor and progressing to the next one. Strength shows that you exert a lot of control and thought in a fight and finally - the hermit. You believe you have achieved all the spiritual depth you need to embark on your journey and wish for immortality, thinking that it’s the only way to achieve peace of mind.”

The cat flipped the card between her fingers, losing herself.

“Are we done?”

Asha’s voice leveled, but had a slight tone of annoyance. The fortuneteller jumped a bit.

“Oh, absolutely. You may go.”

Asha walked towards the door behind the cat. Before she pressed any further, she spoke up.

“I’m pretty sure those weren’t the meanings of the cards.”

The fortuneteller took out another card from the deck and smiled to herself.

“And I am sure you knew I wasn’t talking about the cards.”

Asha hesitated for a moment, but did not bother to answer. She opened the door and walked through.

Part 11: Whisperer

Asha walked through a dark corridor. The barely present ambient light made it seem like it stretched for miles. On both sides of the pathway pillars stood tall, as if holding up the sky. From time to time skittering sounds could be heard. She took slow and measured steps, not letting down her guard.

With time the skittering became more and more frequent. Asha had taken out her sword, but continued with the same pace. She knew she was being watched. It was only a matter of time before the stalker revealed themselves.

“What are you looking for, little rabbit?”

She did not answer. The voice echoed through the hallway and Asha could not pinpoint its origin.

“Playing tough, are we?”

There came a cackle. Asha paid it no mind. She was done repeating herself for ten floors and pressed on through the dark.

“You really are a rascal, aren’t you? Not wishing to play along? Fine. I can tell you why you are here. You are here to kill me.”

Although echoing from all directions, it seemed like the voice was nearer this time.

“Kill me, get to the next floor. Kill the next guardian, get to the next floor, ad infinitum. Sometimes you’ll talk to the floor keeper, with no need for bloodshed, and then get back to killing.”

Her enemy was getting closer. “You are here because you conquered the previous floors. You’ll be there because you will conquer the next floors. That’s the gist of it anyway. I personally think you won’t get your wish. Eight more of us, excluding myself. You are bound to fail at some point. Some point soon…”

The voice came from a few feet away. She held her sword tight.

“There’s no need to go on. So many have failed. You would have heard by now if someone got their wish. There should have been at least one global emperor, right?”

It was right behind her.

“Turn back now, if you value your life.”

She turned around, swinging her sword, cutting off the head of a fox. She looked at the carcass. He wore a green cloak and held a dagger in his hand. She bent down and wiped her blade in his clothes.

Asha continued through the hallway until she reached the next door.

Part 12: Forked path

Asha entered an abandoned clock tower. Gears turned, crackling and clanking, pushing leavers back and forth. Although every single piece of equipment moved, the hands on the clock itself did not budge and were perpetually stuck at six o’clock. The entire room was illuminated by the moon peering in through the dial. Asha stepped forward onto a walkway, positioned over an endless, dark abyss. The path itself lead to a door, right underneath the dial.

She stepped lightly over the cold, stone floor. It was wide enough for two to pass each other, but she didn’t want to risk it. Although it hadn’t bothered her before, she had a feeling her back injury might prove troublesome in a duel here.

When she reached the middle of the walkway, she noticed a shadowy figure stepping onto it from the other side. She wasted no time and unsheathed her sword. The figure did not change its pace and continued on with a calm and steady step. Although cloaked, Asha could determine her opponent was just slightly taller than her. It wasn’t visible if they were armed, but even if they were, it wouldn’t be a long-reaching weapon, so the battle would be intimate.

When her opponent was about three meters away from her, he took down his cowl, revealing himself to be a rabbit. Asha readied her weapon, but he did not attack.

“Tell me, traveler, for how long have you been climbing the tower?”

Asha did not answer him. He turned towards the dial.

“I’ve been here for so long and I’ve yet to fix that thing. I’m just curious how much time it takes for an adventurer to get here.”

He turned back towards Asha with an innocent smile on his face. She was not amused. He sighed.

“I am the clock-keeper. I came here because I enjoy the solitude the tower provides for those who wish it.”

He walked slowly towards Asha, continuing his monologue.

“I enjoy examining things – how they work and function. I have the mechanisms of the clock mapped out and I know every single part of it. But most importantly…”

His hand started moving from beneath the robes. Asha stood ready for an attack, but he pulled out a simple deck of cards.

“…I enjoy games.”

Again he smiled and, again, Asha did not answer.

“Even though it’s nice to stare at the cog wheels, overthink the existential condition and play solitaire, it can get a little dull. So would you mind if you played a few games with me?”

He sat down and spread four cards face down.

“If you do, you can go on to the next floor.”

Asha sheathed her sword and crossed her arms. The clock-keeper smiled.

“You have to pick two cards and they have to be the same colour.”

Asha bent down and picked two cards. The clock-keeper flipped them over.

“Spades and hearts. You lose.”

Asha got up and walked towards the door. She pulled the handle, but it was locked. She turned back towards the other rabbit. He was dangling a key on his finger.

“I played a game. Open the door.”

“One isn’t enough. I insist you stay a bit more.”

Asha took out her sword and went towards the clock-keeper. He extended his arm over the abyss, the key still dangling.

“Don’t make any mistakes you might regret.”

Asha stopped in her tracks. Her opponent spun the key, coiling it around his finger. He closed the distance between them while shuffling the deck of cards.

“Did you know there are more ways to stack a deck of cards than there are stars in the sky?”

“Yes. I heard that recently.”

There was mild look of disappointment on the keeper’s face.

“Oh…the cat told you, didn’t she?”

Asha breathed slowly. When the keeper got close enough, she was going to pounce on him and take the key. She wasn’t planning on wasting any more time than she had to. But to her surprise, when he was close enough, the rabbit just threw the key towards her.

“You can go if you want. I don’t plan on interrupting your journey.”

She turned around and headed straight to the door.

“But I can provide for you.”

She slowed down.

“If you want you can stay here for as much time as you like. I doubt climbing ten floors was easy. You can rest here. No tricks, no battles. Just a moment of peace.”

As he said that, Asha felt her wound sting. She had completely forgotten about it since she got it. Only now did it act up.

She turned back. The keeper was in front of her. Asha sighed, sat and then laid sideways on the stone floor.

“What do you want to play?”

The keeper smiled. He sat down and pulled out a bag from underneath his cloak and rummaged in it.

“I personally believe that games show a person in their truest light. And no game does that better than go.”

From the bag he pulled out a small board, divided in squares, and a box. Asha examined the equipment as he laid it down. The box was filled with small black and white pebbles, all of them polished.

“I don’t know that one.”

“Don’t worry. It’s easy to get.”

He took out a white pebble and placed it in one of the squares.

“You see, backgammon is game where you play against luck and have to rely on forces beyond your control. Chess on the other hand is a more naturalistic game, where you play strictly against your opponent – mind versus mind, while in go, you play against yourself.”

Asha scratched her ear.

“So you won’t be playing with me?”

The keeper giggled.

“No, no, it’s a metaphor. The game is more about self control and betterment. A game can end whenever we want it to end, and so you can determine when you’ve bettered yourself and begin anew. The cat uses her cards more as a form of meditation rather than real fortune telling. I consider games in the same matter. It’s more what you perceive and think, rather than what you do.”

Asha frowned a bit. She scratched her nose and sat up straight. The clock-keeper took that as a sign that she was ready to take the game seriously. He smiled and explained the rules to her.

Part 13: Converse

Asha walked through stone hallways, sarcophagi filling the walls. The air was cold and dusty, making her cough each time she inhaled too deeply. Every time she thought she reached an end of the path, the hallways would fork, leading her deeper into the catacombs. Her steps echoed through the labyrinth, at times accompanied by a current of wind. There was no danger to be feared here, yet she still felt uneasy.

Asha paced through the corridors for what seemed like hours when she finally found herself in the center of the maze – a field covered in ash, sand and dust, bones littered or formed mounds both great and small.

The ceiling, a dome with a withered mural, was at least ten stories tall. Asha cautiously stepped onto the field. She took out her sword when she got close to the center, expecting the guardian of the floor to leap out at her from somewhere nearby. Every step she took towards the center was slower. She completely stopped when small pieces of plaster fell on her head from the ceiling. She rubbed it off and looked up. More specs of plaster started cracking from the ceiling. Then she felt it.

Asha fell back when the ground beneath her gave way and from the sand something emerged. Asha crawled backwards trying to gain ground and to better see what was coming up. It was as if the creature had been sleeping underneath the mounds and the footsteps woke it up. It was colossal in size. Asha barely reached its ankle. The giant was covered in rusted, black armor, it wore a helmet, completely covering its face, and had a halberd in one hand that was almost ready to fall on one side. Its pose was unnatural – the joints were bent in weird angles, the spine made unusual turns and the neck looked as though it might be broken.

For the first time in the tower, Asha felt fear. Fear of the size and misshapen stature of the creature before her. Fear that there was a chance her quest might end here.

The giant planted the halberd firmly in ground and used it like a cane, turning from one side to the other. When it noticed Asha, it bent down to examine her closer. Asha raised her sword, but she could not hold it still. She was trembling.

“Are you climbing the tower, little rabbit?”

It’s voice was loud, but calm and collected at the same time.

“I-I am...”

The giant made a low, droning sound in response, indicating that it understood her. Still gripping the pole, it slid down to the ground, resting on the sandy field.

“I don’t wish to fight you. Turn back and let me spare your life.”

“N-no.”

Asha took meek steps forward. Although she was scared, she was not willing to give up on her quest so easily.

The giant let out a low laugh.

“You are a fool. I can easily crush you. I’m giving you the greatest gift there could be – life. No wish can compare to it. Just run along.”

“I won’t back down.”

The giant observed the rabbit - her meager steps were barely visible, and yet the giant found them commendable.

“In my youth I wanted to be a soldier. I trained everyday and before I knew it, I was in the king’s army. After each battle, I would lament on the time I’ve lost preparing for this. I never had a wife or close friends. I never had a real chance to enjoy life. I’ve killed hundreds but there was no pleasure in it. There was no pleasure in my life. And now, in death, I sleep with the bones of my foes. Turn back and do not make the mistake of denying yourself of life.”

Asha listened to the story. There was a note of pain with each word the giant said. But the warnings weren’t enough to make her forfeit.

“You said that you lost out on life because of a mistake. I aim to rid myself of all mistakes.”

The giant turned its head. It was intrigued.

“Mistakes affect us because life is short. With each choice we make, we deny ourselves another. Mistakes are choices that do not fulfill us. I want to wish for immortality. If bad choices deny us of life experiences because of how short life is, then immortality would mean that there are no bad choices, only experiences.”

The giant laughed. At first it was a chuckle but it soon became a powerful, thunderous laugh that shook the catacombs.

“Oh, rabbit, I haven’t had such a laugh in a very long time. You are quite the wordsmith. I enjoy your enthusiasm and vigor, but I doubt you’ll be able to make your wish.”

The last part caught Asha off guard.

“Why is that?”

The giant stood up and started fixing his joints, aligning them in their correct positions.

“Many have tried climbing the tower. Few have succeeded. And yet, there are no kings of the world, nor unkillable warriors, or miracle workers. Think about this when you climb up.”

The giant struck the dome with the halberd, breaking it down. Sunlight illuminated the catacombs. From two slits on the back of the giant’s armor, two dark, almost paperlike wings emerged. It jumped and the wings started to flutter, levitating it off the ground and through the hole on the ceiling.

Asha coughed out all the dust she had swallowed during the display. She rubbed her eyes until she could see better and walked forward, through the field and towards a giant stone gate that had opened with the illumination of the catacombs.

Part 14: Suspension

Asha stepped onto a wooden platform encircling a tree. In front of her stretched a rope around ten meters long, tied to another tree with a hole burrowed into it. In front of the hole stood a macaque twirling a scimitar. He turned towards Asha with a cocky smile.

“I am the treewalker. Get through me and you can get to the next floor. Simple enough.”

Asha took out her sword. The treewalker stretched.

“You’ve got to come to me. No reason to overexert myself.”

The rabbit looked at the rope. It was suspended for what seemed like miles above the ground and it was barely thick enough to walk on.

She put one foot on it and immediately retreated when it started shaking. The macaque laughed.

“You can always just turn around you know.”

Asha ignored the remark. She took off her cape and fastened one end of it to her foot. The other, she tied in a noose to the rope. She took her first steps, barely managing to balance herself. When she reached the halfway point, she raised her sword, ready to fight. The macaque proudly walked on the rope, grabbing it with his feet. The shaking almost caused Asha to lose her balance. When he reached her, the treewalker stood still and let the rabbit regain her composure. As she lifted her sword again, signaling that she was ready to fight, the macaque just hit it. The force was enough for Asha to fall off to the side. Even though it lasted for a second, it felt like she fell for an eternity. The feeling of all her insides hitting the body cavity made her clench every muscle in her body. The sudden stop almost tore her leg out from its socket. For a split second she blacked out. The treewalker laughed and walked back, leaving her behind, dangling.

It took Asha a few moments to completely realize what had happened. When she came to her senses she noticed an intense pain in her hand. She was clutching her sword hard enough to hurt. She couldn’t sheathe it and didn’t want to risk losing it. The rabbit ignored the pain and lifted herself up to grab her makeshift harness with her free hand. She climbed up her cloak and crawled back to her platform.

When she finally managed to sit, her feet dangling off the ledge, she pried open her hand and placed the sword beside her. She spent the next few minutes stretching her fingers until she had complete control of them again.

Asha took a look at the macaque. He was lying on his back, looking at the sky and singing a song to himself. None of this was of any surprise to him.

Asha untied the knots and this time decided to sling the cape underneath the rope and attach two ends to both her feet. She took a few steps on the rope, this time even less sure of her skills and immediately bent down to grab it with her free hand.

The treewalker noticed his opponent trying to crawl back to the battlefield. He sighed, picked up his weapon and again met Asha in the middle. He prepared to swing his sword down at her, but in the nick of time Asha slashed towards his legs. He was quick enough to step back, but all the movement caused Asha to turn upside down. She was still holding the rope with one hand and the treewalker decided this time around to kneel down.

“You know, it would be quicker if you just turn back. No shame in losing to a superior opponent.”

Asha didn’t answer. In a split second she let go of the rope and grabbed it again, this time behind her foe’s feet, after which she slashed it with one swift blow.

In his panicked state, the treewalker dropped his scimitar and grabbed the rope in front of him. Both enemies swung forward and hit their opposing trees. Asha managed to climb up the tree, much slower than the treewalker, but there was no rush. She had already won.

When she reached the top and started undoing her harness, she heard the macaque laughing.

“You’re a tricky one you are. Go on! Get to the next floor! I’m sure that scaly creep in there has been waiting for someone like you for a long time.”

Asha didn’t answer him. She put on her cloak and walked through the burrow.

Part 15: Of flesh and lust

Asha walked down a flight of circular stairs. The only indication that she was making any progress was the sound of music getting louder and louder. There was no door at the end of the stairs, just a thin, purple veil, shadows and figures dancing behind it.

Asha grabbed the veil and pulled it. At that instant, it was as if all the sounds in the chamber had burst forth – loud, almost atonal music, yelling, cries of pain and pleasure. Inside she witnessed all manner of animals, some dressed in the most bizarre and outlandish clothing, while others completely in the nude. None of the residents had formed groups dedicated to one activity. Around every table sat at least five, either drinking heavily or gorging themselves, yelling and laughing, all the while watching other revelers dancing, whipping or fornicating.

Asha stepped through the threshold. She passed through jugglers, minstrels, drunkards, sadists, masochists, sodomites, looking for entrance to the next floor. It didn’t take long for her to be noticed, being the only one wearing actual clothes. Some of the dancers moved with her, urging her to join them. She ignored them for the most part, but their insistence slowly wore on her patience. They started grabbing her and pulling her by the arms and cape and pleading her to dance and she pulled away with force.

“Enough!”

Although she yelled, her voice was drowned out in the cacophony. She was ready to take out her sword when the music stopped and with it - all other noises. Everyone turned towards the end of the room and Asha followed their gaze. A lizard, sitting on a black throne, one hand supporting his head and the other raised towards the direction of a band of musicians.

“Step forward, rabbit.”

Asha walked towards the lizard, everyone straying from her but still keeping a moderate distance. The lizard didn’t move. He examined her from head to toe and he waved his hand.

“You do not need these in here.”

In an instant Asha was stripped naked, all her clothing on the ground and the perpetrators lost in the crowd. She tried covering herself as much as she could but the lizard raised his hand, motioning for her to stop.

“Relax, little rabbit, you are amongst friends here. We all value the beauty of the naked form. Set your hands down and you may state what you are seeking.”

Asha reluctantly dropped her hands, revealing her body in full. She was covered in scars, the largest and freshest one on her back.

“I wish to climb the tower.”

The lizard scratched his chin.

“Climb the tower…climb the tower…you know, many here also wanted to climb the tower, but they preferred to stay. I’ll offer you the same things I offered them.”

Again, the lizard waved his hand. A line of people went by Asha, all of them holding platters with food and drinks.

“You can have the tastiest of meals, the most numbing wine or the most intoxicating substances.”

Even though the line went fast, she could smell every individual thing on those platters. The combinations of aromas made her visibly salivate.

The lizard waved his hand once more. Another line of figures passed her, each of them caressing her body. The smell of sweat and perfume filled her nostrils. Her breaths became heavy.

“You can have any man or woman, or those which can be both. You can be as sensual, as brutal or as submissive as you want to with each and every one of them.”

The lizard rested his hand on his throne.

“You can stay. You don’t need to go.”

Asha closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She wiped the saliva from her mouth, took her clothes from the ground and put them back on.

“I wish to climb the tower.”

The lizard sighed and waved his hand. On his left, the wall split open and he gestured Asha to walk through it. She stepped through the crack and walked into the darkness. She heard the wall behind her close and with it the music started playing anew.

Part 16: The tower

Asha walked through complete darkness. There was no other sound except her footsteps. She held her sword firmly, ready to defend herself, but there was no one to defend from. She changed the course of her path a few times, intending to come to a wall or an obstacle so she could get a better image of the place, but there were no walls. It was as if she was walking in a desert.

The lack of sights and sounds made her uneasy. Surely there had to be a guardian here and not just an endless void. From time to time she could swear she heard whispers, but when she adjusted her hearing, there was nothing.

When it felt like she had been walking for hours, she stopped and sat on the ground. The ground didn’t feel like anything. It was solid, but it didn’t posses any other characteristics. Her sword, now sheathed, rested next to her. There was nothing here. Nothing to fight. Nothing to fear. Nothing to help her.

“Sixteen floors. I beat fifteen floors and the one to beat me was the one with nothing in it.”

She laid down, gazing up at the darkness. She could no longer tell if her eyes were open or closed. The solitude was crushing.

“Maybe the guardian is the darkness itself.”

She tapped the ground a few times. She tried to scratch through it but to no avail. She was ready to turn back, but there was nowhere to turn back to.

“Nothing to fight and nowhere to go. I did enter knowing the possibility of failure. But not like this.”

She was calmer than she would have expected. There was no need to put on a front. She was bested and she was going to die here.

Asha took a deep breath.

“I accept my fate.”

With those words she let go of everything and drifted off to sleep.

She woke, again surrounded by darkness. She sat up and stretched her hands. She was refreshed. For the first time since she began her quest, she wasn’t tired.

While feeling the ground around for her sword, she felt a slight burning in her eye. The more she turned, the worse it was. When she grabbed the hilt, she realized what it was. Right next to her, there was a weak ray of light, as if coming from beneath a door frame. She extended her hand forward and it collided with a wooden surface. Feeling it up, she found a door handle. The rabbit smiled to herself. She opened the door, the light behind it momentarily blinding her. Asha rubbed her eyes and went through.

Part 17: Starbound

The first thing Asha experienced on the other side was the smell of the ocean. The second one was a wave hitting her entire body. She fell down on a wooden deck, her eyes and nasal cavity burning from the salt. It took a few seconds to fully realize where she was.

“You the climber?”

The voice came from behind her. She turned around and saw a white swallow hoisting the sails. Before she could answer another wave hit her, filling her throat with water. She started coughing violently, puking the water she’d swallowed.

“I take it you are. Don’t stand around, take the helm.”

Asha quickly got up on her feet and ran towards the boat’s wheel, which was spinning out of control. She grabbed it, stabilizing it and tuned towards the swallow.

“Will you lead me to the next floor?”

“Forget about the floors for a second, we gotta get through this first.”

Another violent wave hit the boat, knocking it back and forth. Asha held as tightly as she could, but she still slipped on the wet deck.

“Hold tight. The storm won’t last long! Just a few more minutes!”

Asha tried to get up, but another wave rocked the boat, throwing her back down. Her head hit the boards and the darkness engulfed her again.

“Hey, you alright?”

Asha slowly opened her eyes. She was in the cabin. Above her stood the sailor with only a slight degree of concern on his face. The rabbit tried to stand up, but a sudden pain in her head forced her to fall back.

“You hit yourself pretty hard. The ocean ain’t no place for the inexperienced, you know.”

Asha tried standing up again, this time ready for the pain. The swallow helped her get up and let her out on the deck.

“We’ll be stuck here for some time, until the skies clear up.”

Asha looked up. Although the storm had passed, clouds still hid the stars.

“How can I get to the next floor from here?”

The sailor led out a low sigh.

“I don’t know. High chance of it being to where I’m headed, I guess. But we can’t get anywhere with no stars.”

Asha rubbed her head. The pain was still present and it started to get worse. She grabbed the gunwale and slid down to the ground.

“If it makes you feel any better, I’m pretty sure we are close.”

The sailor looked around.

“Mhm. Definitely close.”

Asha slowly stood up, her headache under control and she gazed out into the ocean. There was only darkness.

“Is there any chance we could sail out on instinct?”

The swallow laughed.

“Good luck with that. Just hope the skies clear up soon.”

Asha turned back towards the waters. It was a tad awe-inspiring. Such a bleak vastness. No way to know where you are. Always at the mercy of the elements. The hairs on her neck stood up. She decided it would be best not to dwell on it and turned around. She was met with the same sight. Only this time, something was off.

“Hey, is that a light over there.”

She pointed the sailor towards the horizon. He squinted his eyes.

“Indeed it is.”

He stormed off, untying the ropes of the sail.

“Grab the helm! We are setting course towards that light!”

Asha was soon steering them towards the source of the light. The sailor set the sails and they were off.

“What is that thing?”

“It’s a lighthouse. It shows the path for lost ships.”

The closer they got, the stronger the light became. Asha was sure that in it she could find her way out.

When they got close enough, Asha turned towards the swallow.

“It was a pleasure sailing with you, captain.”

“I ain’t no cap…”

He didn’t finish. Asha had jumped out of the boat and was swimming towards the dock. This act alone was more tiring than any of her other challenges, but she kept on going.

She climbed out of the water, breathing heavily, and ran to the lighthouse. She hurried up the circular stairs and broke through the door at the top.

Part 18: Broken light

Bursting out through the door, Asha found herself inside the lighthouse. She was so used to the drastically changing scenery, that the sight of an ordinary lighthouse interior caught her off guard. She paced slowly around the room, careful not to look directly at the blinding light emitted by some strange contraption. She examined her surroundings as closely as she could, but the simple plainness distracted her by itself. Although big, the room did not have any obvious exits besides the one Asha entered through. There was a light smell of fish, but that was to be expected.

Strutting along the circular path, she stepped on something squishy and slimy. She tripped, but quickly regained her balance. There was a yell. Asha turned around, but she couldn’t see anyone. She looked at her feet. At first glance there was nothing unusual, but upon further inspection, Asha noticed a thin trail of mucus. It was barely visible, but the central contraption shone enough for one to see a nuance on the floor. There was something in here with her.

Asha pulled out her sword and spoke with a loud, firm tone.

“Show yourself now, or it will get worse for you later.”

The ambience of the room slowly changed. A squishy, dragging sound slowly filled the lighthouse. Patches on the walls changed colours, revealing themselves as tentacles, slithering down to the floor. They lead to a strange amorphous, white blob on one side of the room. Asha closed in on the grotesque thing. And then she heard it speak.

“I’m here! I’m here! No need for any of that.”

The tentacles lethargically waved towards the sword. Asha was now within striking distance. She didn’t lower her weapon.

Two big eyes appeared on the blob. It was a squid.

“Please lower your weapon! I’m just a humble light keeper. I’ve got nothing worth stealing.”

The squid could barely move and its shaky voice was evidence enough that it wasn’t a fighter.

“Show me the door for the next floor and I’ll leave you be.”

The squid blinked. One eye after the other.

“I’m sorry, I don’t quite understand.”

Asha raised her sword towards the light keeper and it visibly sunk back.

“Do not play with me. I am climbing the tower. Tell me where the next door is and I won’t slice you up.”

The squid was now visibly shaking.

“I’m sorry, I’m afraid I don’t understand. This is the top of the towe…Oh! You mean THE tower. I’m terribly sorry, but this isn’t it.”

“What?”

“Yes. Did you come with the swallow? Adventurers keeping sailing with him and bursting into my lighthouse, claiming it’s the next part of their journey. You won’t find any adventures here. I think the real path is somewhere outside.”

Asha furrowed her brow and the squid noticed it.

“It’s true! I don’t go out much, so I can’t tell you where it is, but everybody who comes in here claims to have passed through impossible hallways and gardens, forests and arenas. They are always surprised to find a lighthouse on top of the lighthouse.”

Asha lowered her sword. It did make some sense.

“You are saying this isn’t part of the tower?”

“I’m afraid not, no.”

“And it’s most likely outside?”

“Most definitely.”

Asha turned around and walked towards the door.

“I hope you find your way.”

She was a few steps from the door when she noticed one of the tentacles on the wall changing its colour. She stopped. The light keeper could disguise himself. Could the floor itself also be disguised as an ordinary lighthouse?

Asha turned around and walked back to the squid.

“Is something the matter?”

Its voice was sincere.

“Nothing really. Would you mind moving yourself?”

“Oh, I don’t think that would be necessary.”

Asha pulled out her sword. The squid gulped and slithered to one side, revealing that it was standing on top of a door. Asha opened the door. There was a spiral staircase leading towards a black abyss.

The squid chuckled.

“I almost had you, didn’t I?”

“Yes, almost.”

Asha kicked the light keeper and climbed down.

Part 19: Peace of mind

After less than a minute, Asha reached the bottom of the stairs. They lead to a chamber at the base of the lighthouse, strangely well illuminated by the moon shining through cracks in the walls. The staircase itself ended a few meters away from a tunnel. Asha walked towards the tunnel, stepping onto cold mud.

Right before the entrance she looked down and saw, laid out neatly on a piece of cloth, a torch, tinder, a pair of boots and a note. She picked up the note, which read:

“A present for the adventurer to help them on their journey.”

Asha crumpled up the note and threw it away. With suspicion she picked up the boots for inspection. They were made of rubber, exactly her size. She checked inside to see if this might be a trap, but her fear was unfounded. She put the boots on, lit up the torch and pressed onward.

The tunnel was supported by wooden beams, visibly old and quite decrepid. The mud was getting thicker and thicker and the air more and more damp. After some walking, Asha reached a fork in the path – two tunnels with a sign in between them pointing to the left. Asha followed the sign and reached another fork. This time the sign pointed right. Asha followed it again and was met with a third fork. She continued to follow the signs left behind, until she finally saw a light in the distance. She quickened her pace, throwing the torch aside. She reached the source of the light.

Asha entered a room. Unlike the previous one, there was a marble floor, with a carpet rolled out at the entrance. The walls were covered in green wallpaper decorated with paintings. A small fireplace burned, around which chairs were placed, giving the room a homey vibe. Asha took a step into the room and an arm emerged from behind one of the chairs.

“Please take off your boots. You’ll track mud.”

The rabbit proceeded to slowly take off her boots, not taking her eyes off of the chair. Now barefoot, she stepped towards the fireplace, to meet her host.

A dog, dressed in jester attire, was sitting in the chair, reading a book. He bent the edge of the page he was reading, closed the book and left it on a table next to him.

“Glad you could make it. Asha was it?”

Asha furrowed her brow.

“Do I know you?”

The dog grabbed his chin while looking up as if deep in thought.

“Not likely. You’ve probably met my brother. He lets adventurers in, I let them out.”

The dog stood up and extended his arm towards Asha. Unsure what exactly to do, Asha extended hers where he grabbed it and violently started shaking it.

“Congratulations on making it this far. I’m sure it was a long and treacherous journey. I’d offer you something to eat and drink, but experience has taught me that people tend to be too excited to be hungry here.”

“Wait. This is the top of the tower?”

The jester shook his head in a negative response.

“Well…no. You still have one more floor to go. It’s a meeting with the king.”

He walked towards a table and poured himself a cup of tea.

“The king?”

The jester took a sip from his tea. Displeased with the taste, he added a lump of sugar to it and started stirring.

“Mhm. He’s the one who will grant you your wish. If you pass his challenge.”

Asha sighed. She looked around and saw an ordinary wooden door located near the fireplace. She went to open the door when the jester spoke up again.

“Leave you sword.”

The rabbit spun around to glare at him. The jester was looking at her from above his tea cup.

“It’s part of the rules. No weapons on holy ground.”

Asha begrudgingly undid her sheath. She stared at it, not ready to let it go.

“Is it neceserry?”

“Oh, most definitely.”

With a deep relenting sigh, the rabbit lay her sword next to the door. She closed her eyes and opened the door, stepping through the final stairway.

“Good luck, great adventurer.”

Part 20: The king

Asha had been climbing the stairs for hours and yet she felt no exhaustion, no pain, only pure determination. She would finally reach her goal, her wish for immoratlity. She could live any life she wanted, changing them whenever she pleased, without having any regrets for missed opportunities. Only one floor stood between her and all she ever wanted.

At the top of the staircase, she reached a mahogany gate, heavily ornamented with with golden insignias. She put both hands on the gate and pushed it open, entering a small, stone chamber. The air was cold, heavy. Flickering candles lit the room from both sides, revealing a mural in the center, depicting each floor of the tower.

On the other side of the room, opposite to Asha, was a throne. A cloaked figure sat on the throne, its face obscured by darkness. Boney fingers gripped the handles of the throne and on its head, there was a thin, white crown. This was the king.

“Step forward, my child.”

The voice was ghostly, gravely, a mere whisper. It did not seem to have an origin, but felt like it came from the entire room. Asha took a few steps, placing herself in the middle of the cirle.

“You desire immortality, don’t you Asha?”

With a confident, yet respectful voice she answered.

“I do.”

“It is not beyond my abilities, but I would need something from you as well.”

Asha’s ear perked up. Her breath became heavier. This was something she wasn’t expecting.

“It’s a simple request. You have passed through the maze of the four lords and reached the top of my tower. So tell me, child, what have you learned on your journey to my chamber?”

Asha stood still. She closed her eyes, reminiscing on all her encounters. A few minutes passed and she spoke.

“I’ve learned of the horrors of madness and ignorance. That no one can forge your path to victory. I have learned to better think on my feet and to not sway away from my goals. I have learned to appreciate peace and help when given and to reject lies. I have learned to survive and I have learned to appreciate.”

There was a moment of silence.

“To each, their own. I find your answer acceptable. Although it was nothing more than a request, you answered truthfully. Your final challenge awaits. Beyond my throne is the door which will lead you to the top of the tower. Climb up, fulfill its challenge and your wish will be.”

Asha stepped forward, passing the unmoving king and opening her final door.

Epilogue: On top of the world

She could see the entire world. The sun’s morning rays burning brightly. The moon disappearing behind the mountains. The stars more numerous than a deck of cards. The oceans roaring, the forests howling, the winds hissing. The people laughing, crying and cheering. On the tower there was no pain, no sorrow, no guilt, no happiness or sadness. There was no victory nor defeat. Only existence and whatever it held. Asha’s ego broke.

#for a wish #tarot #cards #short strory #adventure #fantasy #furry

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